Game of Queens

by India Edghill

  “But you cannot go to the king unsummoned, Esther!”

  “Do you think I do not know that? How odd—you lost your crown for not coming when called by the king, and I shall lose mine for going to him when not called.”

  I looked at Esther standing there, and realized that she had grown into a woman, and a queen. Suddenly I realized that I—I, foolish, brainless Vashti—I had taught her—but it was Esther who had learned. Now she was the one who must think, and choose. I bowed, low, and spoke softly.

  “O queen, live forever.” And then I went and curled up like a cat upon the cushions, waiting. She would know I was hers to command, but that I would not interfere. This was her test, not mine.

  * * *

  Hours flowed past, slow as poured honey. Whenever a servant crept in, I shook my head, sending them away again. Sunlight faded; shadows led into darkness. The last hint of day vanished. I could only see Esther because starlight called answering fire from the jewels in her hair.

  “Vashti?” She sounded as if she woke from deep sleep.

  “Yes, Esther. I am here.”

  “Still? You are a good friend.” A pause. “It’s dark.” She sounded baffled.

  I rose slowly to my feet, stiff from my vigil. “Esther, it’s night.”

  “It is?”

  “You’ve been sitting there still as stone since you told me you must think what to do. Esther…” I almost hesitated to ask, but I knew I must. “Have you—”

  “Thought what I must do?” A sigh; she sounded as weary as if she’d labored hard through the slow hours. “Yes, Vashti, I have.”

  I waited, but she said nothing more. “Well, what? Tell me. We must act swiftly.” I did not know if it would be possible to act at all, but we could not just sit in the Queen’s Palace drinking pomegranate wine while an entire people was slain in the king’s name. I could not even imagine the chaos and terror that would follow such a massacre. Would the empire even survive such an evil deed?

  “I must go to the king and petition him before all the court,” Esther said, and for a breath I thought she had run mad, or I had. Surely I had not heard those deadly words?

  “Esther, you—wait. We need light.” As I padded across the balcony to the room beyond, I thought I heard Esther whisper, “Yes, we do.” But it might have been the night wind.

  I called for lamps and torches to be brought, and food and drink. Esther said nothing until I came back and tried to lead her inside. “You are kind, Vashti, but I know what I must do. And so do you. You just cannot yet admit that this is the only way.”

  “It isn’t,” I said. “You cannot just walk into the king’s throne room.”

  “Why not?”

  Because if Ahasuerus does not hold out the scepter of Death and Life to you, you will die. But Esther knew that already. I said, “Suppose—suppose Amestris learns your plan? She will never let you do this thing.”

  “If she discovers what I plan to do, then you and Hegai must foil whatever plot she comes up with to prevent me. I must see the king. And since he will not come to me, I must go to him. Now there is one more thing we must do.”

  “What?” I stared at her, baffled.

  “What both of us would have done at once, had we not been numbed by shock and horror. Come,” Esther said, and grasped my hand.

  “Where are we going?”

  Esther laced her fingers through mine as she pulled me toward the high doors to her garden. “To see Daniel Dream-Master.”

  I stopped, and Esther swung around to face me. “Of course, Esther! But it’s the middle of the night—”

  “—and this cannot wait for a morning that may never come. Now. And I want Hegai to be there as well. Wake one of your little spies and send her to fetch Hegai to us.”

  ESTHER

  Although it was past midnight, neither Daniel nor Samamat seemed surprised to see Hegai, Vashti, and me at their gate. They welcomed us in as if this were the most commonplace of times for a visit. But they wasted no time on pleasantries. They knew nothing less than disaster would bring us here at this hour.

  It took only a few words to lay out Haman’s plan and hand Daniel a copy of the Adar Law. “Here is the decree, sealed into immutable law. The proclamation is to be posted across the empire tomorrow.”

  Hegai, Vashti, and I waited in silence as Daniel and Samamat swiftly read the law. All color fled Samamat’s face.

  “A decree ordering the destruction of an entire race?” Samamat gasped; the horror in her voice echoed against the blue tile walls. “Are all kings mad?”

  Daniel laid his hand over hers. “I doubt this king had anything to do with drawing up the law. Note how carefully the proclamation was timed. While the king was away, and giving less than a month to find a way out of this disaster.”

  Samamat turned her gaze upon him. “Daniel, you do realize this law means they’ll kill you, too?”

  “Well,” said Daniel, in a tone of the utmost reasonableness, “they’ve been trying to kill me for sixty years. Maybe this time they’ll manage to do it.”

  “I don’t think that’s in the least amusing, Dream-Master.” Even as I said the words, I found myself laughing, and then we all laughed, even Hegai. My laughter turned to tears; Vashti put her arms around me. We looked at Daniel.

  “Daniel,” I said, “I have come to beg your help.”

  “My dear child, I don’t see what help I can be. I’m only an old man.”

  “You’re the wisest man in all the empire. If you cannot help me…” Tears burned my eyes again.

  Samamat asked a question that, oddly enough, gave me time to recover my composure. “O queen, exactly what is it that you need from us?”

  I closed my eyes, commanded myself to be calm. Serene. No good came from panic. “What I need from you and Daniel, my lady Samamat, is advice.”

  Queen or no, I sat at Daniel’s and Samamat’s feet, with Vashti sitting cross-legged beside me and Hegai standing grimly quiet behind us. I told Daniel and Samamat everything that had happened since the moment Haman’s summons had been laid in Vashti’s hand. “So you see,” I finished, “I must ask the king for help. But since his return, he has not sent for me, and I may not go to him unsummoned. Not,” I added, “without breaking the law.”

  “And being cut down by the guards before you can utter a word,” Hegai pointed out.

  “And have you thought of any way to accomplish this?” Samamat asked. Daniel merely watched, and listened.

  “No,” I said. “So I will go to him unsummoned and beg his aid. He is the King of Kings. There must be something he can do.” I stared down at my hands; hands heavy-laded with gold and precious stones. So much treasure; so useless.

  “O queen, I suppose you’re planning on going to the king in his bedchamber?” Samamat asked, and I shook my head.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. This is a matter of imperial law, of the good of the empire, not just of the lives of the Jews.”

  “Although it certainly is that,” Daniel said, and Samamat shot him a sharp look.

  “This cannot be done in darkness, and in secret, as so much in this court is done. This must be seen in the light, so that light may triumph.” I sounded more confident than I felt.

  “For light to triumph, Ahasuerus must forgive your defiance,” Samamat said. “Are you truly willing to trust your life to that?”

  I did not pretend to misunderstand. “I love him.” Words both loving and rueful.

  “Why?” Samamat asked, and I struggled to answer truthfully.

  “Why? Who knows? ‘Why’ is not a word love understands.”

  “Do you think he loves you?”

  “Yes, I think he does—as much as he can. And he will love me more if I teach him to open his heart. He can be a good man.”

  “Just as he can be a good king,” Hegai said, “once he’s no longer under his mother’s paw.”

  “A matter of imperial law … So you need to act”—Samamat shrugged—“imperially, I
suppose.”

  “What do you suggest, Sama?” Daniel asked. “That Queen Esther march into the throne room and confront the King of Kings before the entire court?”

  “Why not?” Samamat asked. “It’s not as if things can get any worse.”

  “My lady Samamat,” I said, “I couldn’t think of anything else either. So yes, I will march into the throne room and confront the King of Kings before the entire court. You’re right—it’s not as if things can get any worse.”

  “Oh, trust me,” said Daniel, “things can always get worse.” He sounded as if he quoted some oracle of wisdom; Samamat glared at him.

  “I must. This is one decision our king must make for himself. No one else can make it for him.” I stared into the lamplight as if it could reveal my future, but saw only dancing flames. “I will go before the king. And if I die—then I die.”

  Slowly, as if speaking with a child, Vashti said, “Esther, he—the king—Ahasuerus—”

  I managed to smile. “You need not speak words you think disloyal, Vashti. I know he is as a brother to you. But he is a husband to me. Do you think I do not know my own husband?”

  “And if you are wrong?”

  “To fear death too much is to fear life.” I took her hand, laced her fingers through mine. “And Vashti—I refuse to live in fear.”

  “Well said.” Daniel smiled, but he looked pale and bone-weary. “I don’t know why you needed me—you already knew what must be done, and are brave enough to do it. Now how can we help, Hadassah?”

  The sound of my true name shattered the unnatural stillness that had frozen the air. Yes, I was still Hadassah. Hadassah owned the courage Esther lacked, and Esther possessed the wisdom Hadassah had not learned. This time my smile was not feigned.

  “I have a great favor to ask of you. Daniel, will you and Samamat come to a banquet I shall prepare for Haman and the king? I think we will need your wise counsel at that table.”

  “A banquet? O queen, have you run mad?” For once Hegai’s beautiful, practiced control vanished. “Haman plans to murder an entire people—and you wish to ask this monster to a banquet?”

  “Yes,” I said. I could not explain, for I hardly understood myself. I only knew this was the path I must follow.

  Hegai drew a shuddering sigh. “A banquet fit for a king and a monster. Very well. When?”

  “Tomorrow.” I thrust my hands under my crossed legs to stop their trembling.

  “I think you mean today,” Daniel said. “It will be morning soon—and the Adar Law is being posted even as we speak.”

  * * *

  But the Most High had one more jest to play before I must risk all to save thousands of lives. Even I laughed when I heard the tale, and I had the story from a dozen mouths before I even left my bedchamber. But it was Hatach’s account that made events I had neither seen nor heard spring to life, thus:

  The King of Kings, Ahasuerus, who ruled over all the lands from the Western Sea to the Eastern Mountains, could not sleep …

  Ahasuerus stared at the ceiling. Deep night, and sleep eluded him. The soft snores of his chamber servants grew infinitely annoying. Why should they sleep when the king could not? Irritated by a particularly loud snore, Ahasuerus flung back the violet silk that covered him and got out of bed.

  “I cannot sleep. Read me something.”

  “What would it please the king to hear?”

  “Anything. One of the chronicles of the reign.” That should be dull enough to send him to sleep.

  “Which chronicle would it please the king—”

  “Man, just go and get one. I don’t care which.”

  When the flustered servant returned, Ahasuerus lay back on his bed and bid the man read. And the very first words read to the sleepless king were,

  “On the third day of Tammuz, two eunuchs evilly plotted the death of the King of Kings by means of arcane poison. The two eunuchs were named Bigthan and Teresh. The plot was overturned by the virtue of one Mordecai, a king’s scribe, who discovered the treachery and told of it, and so the honor and life of the King of Kings was saved.”

  Ahasuerus waited, but the servant rolled up that section of the scroll and began a new section, concerning the billeting of the Immortal Ten Thousand.

  Puzzled, Ahasuerus said, “Stop. What honor did I bestow upon the scribe Mordecai for saving my life?”

  The man rolled back the scroll, shook his head. “There is nothing written upon that matter. The record ends with the words ‘the honor and life of the King of Kings was saved.’”

  “The life, but not the honor if I did not reward the man who saved me from poison.” Ahasuerus nodded, and the man continued to read, but Ahasuerus paid no more attention. He was trying to decide how he could have forgotten so important a matter, and how best to now reward a man who should have had honors heaped upon him the very moment the plot was revealed.

  And as the sun rose and the king rose from his bed, in which he had not slept, the Grand Prince Haman strode into the king’s chamber, for he had the right to help the king greet the day. Seeing his great friend, Ahasuerus smiled, and said,

  “Haman, my friend, you’ll know—how best may a king reward a man he particularly wishes to honor? Something very special to show his delight in this man.”

  Now Haman, being proud, and the king’s great friend, and the king’s vizier besides, thought to himself,

  Who can the king mean to honor in such a fashion but me?

  “Hatach,” I said, trying to sound stern, “You cannot possibly know what that evil wretch Haman thought.”

  “O queen live forever, I can. For when the Grand Prince Haman at last went home again, he told the tale to his sow-faced wife the lady Zeresh, and she told it to her handmaiden, who told it to the kitchen slaves, who told it to—”

  “Yes, yes, I understand. Very well, Haman thought Ahasuerus meant to honor him. Haman would think that, wouldn’t he?”

  “As my queen says,” Hatach agreed, prim-mouthed, and continued.

  “Well, my dear Haman?” Ahasuerus asked. “What do you suggest? I know your idea will be good and clever.”

  And proud Haman, convinced the king wished to honor Haman himself, spoke these prideful words:

  “For a man whom the king delights in and wishes to honor, bring a royal robe that the king has worn, and bring a horse the king has ridden. And bring also a crown that has been set upon the king’s head. Give these to a great prince of the empire, who will take them to the man the king delights to honor.

  “And the great prince shall array the man in the king’s robe and the king’s crown, and set him upon the king’s horse, and lead him through the city, calling out, ‘This is how the king delights to honor this man!’”

  Ahasuerus smiled. “Thank you, Haman. You’re the best of friends, and the best of my great princes. Go and do all, exactly as you said it to me, to Mordecai the Jew. He’s one of my scribes, so you should find him working in the King’s Gate.”

  Hatach paused for a much-needed breath as I laughed. I knew nothing had altered: the Adar Law still doomed the Jews. But when I thought of Haman trying to look flattered at the king’s trust in him, when surely all Haman wished to do at that moment was shove the King of Kings into the nearest sewer-pit—

  “And did Haman do as the king commanded him?” I finally was able to ask, and Hatach nodded. Hatach managed to cough, rather than laugh. I admired his tact.

  “Yes, Star of the Palace, the Great Prince Haman obeyed the King of Kings. He took the king’s robe and the king’s crown, and arrayed Mordecai the Jew in them and set him up on the king’s horse and led him through all the streets of the city, calling out, ‘This is how the king delights to honor this man!’ over and over and over.

  “And then,” Hatach went on, and the prim laughter vanished from his voice, “Haman went to his palace, looking black-visaged as Ahriman. And Mordecai the Jew put back on his sackcloth and ashes, and once more sits waiting just outside the King’s Gate.” />
  * * *

  “Esther, your Mordecai has been honored by the king! All must be well. Now you’re safe, you need not defy the law—” Vashti came dashing in to my room; she burned so bright with happiness I hated to quench it.

  I shook my head. “No, Vashti. This is not salvation. This is a jest. A mad, ill-timed jest.”

  Her brightness faded. “A jest. Whose?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps Fate’s. The Greeks worship Fate as a god.”

  “Is Fate stronger than your god?”

  I sighed. “No one is stronger than the Most High. But I confess to you, Vashti, that I can’t see His hand in this. I must be blind.”

  Vashti rushed over and flung her arms around me; hugged me hard. Her extravagant hair fell over us both. “You see more clearly than anyone else I know. Except Daniel Dream-Master, of course. And—”

  “—and I have also learned that Haman has built a gallows so tall it can be seen over the walls of his house, and plans to hang Mordecai upon it,” I said. “So you see, Vashti, nothing has changed. Well, by noon I shall have all my answers. If I do not return, please be kind to my servants.”

  “You mean to go to the king today? Now?”

  “Today. Now. There is no time left, Vashti. Now come and help me dress. I promise not to ask you what I should wear.”

  VASHTI

  I longed with all my heart to accompany Esther to the throne room, but she would not allow it. She argued, rightly, that seeing me would only remind Ahasuerus of what a fool he had been—never a good thing to summon into a man’s mind, as Hegai added. Then it was Hegai’s turn to demand that he should walk with Esther, and his to be refused.

  “No.” Esther’s voice was gentle, but firm. “I and I alone will risk my life in this. And my life is already forfeit to the Adar Law.”

  “Do you think we would let anyone harm you?” I demanded, and Esther answered,

  “I do not think you would have a choice. I do this alone. But thank you. It is good to have such friends.”