Game of Queens

by India Edghill

  That is not enough. I did not know the voice that whispered behind my ears. Perhaps it was my grandmother, Ishvari of the Black Horse People. Perhaps it was my own heart. It did not matter. What mattered was that I heeded the warning.

  I gathered up the ivory dagger Hegai had given me long ago and sought him in his own chambers. I walked in and stood gazing at him, trying to pretend I looked upon him for the first time. I could not; I had known Hegai too long and too well. But when he looked up at me, startled that I should come to his rooms, I saw the light in his eyes, and his smile, and I thought that perhaps Esther was right. And even if she were not—I owed too much to Hegai to abandon him now.

  He had never abandoned me.

  “Vashti,” Hegai said, “what are you doing here? Is something wrong?”

  I shook my head. “No. I came to tell you that I am leaving, Hegai. And to ask if you will come with me.”

  My words brought him to his feet. “And you say nothing is wrong? Do not tell me you have quarreled with Queen Esther!”

  “No, I have not. Nor have I yet told her what I tell you now. I am nothing here, Hegai. I must go.”

  “Go and do what?” Hegai scowled at me, as if I were again the little girl new-come into Shushan’s palace. “You are a princess; you are not meant for harsh roads and hard ground. Now listen to me, little queen, and—”

  “Stay here and rot slowly, like overripe fruit that no lips will ever taste?” I shook my head. “No. I am leaving. Come with me.”

  “I? I am Chief of the King of Kings’ Eunuchs. I rule the Women’s Palace.” His eyes darkened; old and sad. “What is there for me beyond these walls and gates?”

  “What is there for me? I will never know if I remain here. Come.”

  Again Hegai shook his head. I drew in a deep breath and lifted my hands to my hair. Slowly, I pulled out the golden pins that had held up the heavy mass. My ivory hair tumbled down my back; it reached my knees.

  From my sash, I pulled the leopard-headed dagger and held it out. “Cut off my hair, Hegai.”

  That shocked him out of grief. “Little queen, you can’t be serious! Your beautiful hair!”

  “I’m not little, I’m not a queen, and I am not my hair, Hegai. Cut it off. It’s too heavy anyway.”

  “No. You’ll be sorry tomorrow. You always are.”

  “Not this time.” I walked forward and laid the dagger in Hegai’s lap. I put my hands on his shoulders and slowly, giving us both time to withdraw, I leaned forward and put my lips to his. The moment our mouths touched, I knew Esther was right. Hegai loved me—and not as a brother did his sister.

  More than that, the caress of his lips awoke something within me that until now had slept.

  Passion.

  Shaken, I pulled back. “You have always loved me better than I deserved, and I was too blind to know that until now. And I love you.” I slid my hands up to his cheeks. “How could I not love you? You have protected me, taught me, guided me safely through the court’s dark shadows.

  “I do not know if I can love you as you love me, but I am willing to try. I am leaving this place. I beg you to come with me.”

  For long moments he said nothing, as I counted my heartbeats and slowly the warm strength that had brought me here ebbed. Then, just as I was about to beg his pardon and walk away, Hegai stood up.

  “How short do you want your hair, my love?” he asked, smiling.

  * * *

  On the thirteenth of Adar, we stood at the palace gate, Hegai and I, with our horses awaiting us and all that we would carry with us loaded upon three pack camels. That was Esther’s doing; I had first thought to ride off and leave all behind. Gently, Esther had pointed out that I would need food and clothing, money and supplies. And she had firmly ensured that I had them.

  She had insisted I take servants, too; strong men to tend the camels and guard us upon the road. “Freedom is strong wine, Vashti, and its taste is new to you. But you cannot simply gallop off with only the clothes on your back and no one to protect you.”

  So: a small caravan. A woman, a man. Servants and pack animals. Waiting to say farewell, and depart as the sun rose to light our path.

  Queen Esther had come to the gate to watch me ride away. Hatach stood beside her, pride in his rank as Chief Eunuch giving him new distinction. “So this is good-bye,” Esther said. “Vashti, you are certain this is what you wish to do? I cannot persuade you to remain?”

  I glanced over at Hegai, who smiled at me. I shook my head.

  I stood there beside Sunrise, feeling the mare’s breath warm against my neck. I looked at Esther, and heard myself say, “Come with me. Ride with me as my sister.”

  For an instant she looked—wistful, I thought later. Then she smiled, and shook her head, and the tiny gems chained into her dark-fire hair glinted like hungry eyes.

  “I can’t. Even if I could bear to leave Ahasuerus, there is—”

  “The child. Yes, I know. You’ll be a good queen.”

  “Perhaps. I can only try. It will be easier once the scandal Haman caused is forgotten. That will not take many moons. This is the court of Persia; memories last only so long as they are convenient.”

  She would make a better queen than I had done. Perhaps all queens should be reared first by horse-traders and then by scholars. Just as I no longer needed the shelter of a palace, the false protection of a crown, she no longer needed either Hegai or me. Sunrise blew upon my neck; a soft warm reminder that she waited.

  “This is farewell, then.” I set my hand upon Sunrise’s muzzle. Soft as velvet. I smoothed my hand down her proudly arched neck. Strong as steel. So would I be; strong and gentle both. And more, I would be free. Free to be hungry, to be tired, to be dead if I could not keep myself alive.

  I can. I can live. And I can die. I can be Vashti. I thought of embracing Esther, of kissing her, but already she seemed to withdraw, shielded by the silk and jewels glowing in the dawn light. So I did neither. I merely said, “O queen, live forever,” and turned and vaulted up onto Sunrise’s waiting back.

  And so we rode out the palace gate, Hegai and I, as the sun rose and the palace turned to burning gold behind us. I looked back, once, but the gate was shut and the Immortals stood before it once more, faceless and silent.

  “Which way, my heart?” Hegai asked, and I laughed.

  “Does it matter?” I reached into my belt and pulled out the pur—the lot—that I had taken from Haman. As Hegai watched, I closed my eyes and flung the small carved bit of bone into the air. I opened my eyes again, looked down into the dust beneath my horse’s feet.

  “That way,” I said. Hegai would have dismounted, to retrieve the pur and set it once more into my hand, but I shook my head. It was morning, and I had no more need of anything from the palace. The pur had told me all I needed to know. Men and women hastened past us through Shushan’s great gates into the city, seeking the center of the world. Hegai and I rode out through those gates, to the west, following the rays of the rising sun.

  HEGAI

  Delighting in Vashti’s joy, I rode after her. I had known my beloved since she was ten years old; I knew her thoughts. Well, she had divulged them to me eagerly enough, between eager kisses. Vashti yearned to be free, to ride beyond the horizon. She craved passion and adventure. She desired to chase the sun into the west.

  And so she will … for a time. I saw no reason Vashti should not indulge these yearnings. I, too, will savor this time of freedom.

  But Vashti had been born a princess of Babylon; she had been wife of the King of Kings. She could not run wild into the world—not forever. She would not be safe, and if I knew nothing else about Vashti, I knew that never again would she consent to be a pawn in the games of power. Never again would she endure being a weapon in someone’s hand. She could not be free and unguarded both.

  My poor queen, you cannot live as the wind’s darling. Oh, she might pretend for a span of time—but soon or late, we must return to our proper place.


  That place was a palace. A palace at the foot of the mountains awaited us, given with goodwill by Ahasuerus. There Vashti’s servants and her pets waited for us. Yes, a palace of our own—and within its walls Vashti would rule my heart.

  But for now—for now, let us follow the lot she has cast. I do not care where we ride, so long as we ride there together. I smiled and touched the flowers I had tucked carefully into my sash. Blooms plucked from the garden I had planted for her, when I thought dreams were all I would ever possess.

  I looked back at the palace gate, gleaming panels closed upon the merciless years I had spent behind walls and hate. Hegai dwelt there. I do not.

  The palace of the King of Kings lay behind us. Ahead lay our future. Smiling, I reined in my horse. “Wait, my love,” I called to Vashti. “I have something I wish to tell you at last.” She slowed her mare and turned back to me, smiling. “What is it, Hegai?”

  “My name is Jasper,” I told her, and handed her the nosegay of scarlet poppies.

  ESTHER

  After Vashti and Hegai rode away, I climbed the stairs to the roof of my palace. There I gazed out into the west, as if I could watch their journey into tomorrow. But by the time I reached my post, even the dust of their passing no longer hung in the warming air. I remembered the days when I had ridden with the wind, and for how many years I had longed for nothing more than to reclaim that childhood freedom. Now I am only a queen, and never again will I run where I wish. I sighed; footsteps came up soft behind me. I sensed my beloved’s presence, and reached out to him. Ahasuerus grasped my hand.

  “What troubles your heart, beloved?”

  I owed him too much, loved him too well, to fob him off with Nothing, O great king. Nothing can trouble me while you are with me. He deserves truth, as well as love.

  “I envy Vashti. She is free to ride where she wills now. Truthfully, my love, I did not think you would let her go.” I had even doubted Ahasuerus would permit her to marry Hegai. The King of Kings does not easily open his hand and free what he holds—even if he does not desire what he possesses.

  To my surprise, Ahasuerus laughed. “She’s wild as a falcon, but she rides with Hegai, and he drives a harder bargain than any merchant. Yes, I let her go. I trust Hegai to take care of her—and when he thinks the time is right, he will hood his ivory falcon and teach her the joys of—”

  “Chains?” I asked, and Ahasuerus released his hold on my hand and put his hands on my shoulders, turning me until I faced him.

  “Have I chained you, Esther?”

  I searched his face, seeking truth. Neither anger nor sorrow marred him now. He waited for my answer, waited until I choose to give it. “Of course, my lord.” I reached up and laid my hands against his cheeks. “For I love you, and that is a stronger chain than iron or fear. And Vashti loves Hegai. And because that is so, for him she will be tame—”

  Ahasuerus raised his eyebrows. “Willingly? Vashti?”

  I laughed. “Yes, my king and my love. Vashti.”

  “And you, my queen? Have I tamed you? The danger you fought has passed. If I take my hands from you, and say that you may go free and with all honor if you desire—would you choose to walk away from the palace, Esther? From the crown? From me?”

  I smiled and slid my hands down over his shoulders, his arms, his hands; I wove my fingers through his.

  “From the palace and from the crown, yes, easily. From you? Never. How many times must I tell you that I love you, Ahasuerus?” I lifted his hands and kissed them; looked up smiling. “Let me tell you one thing more.”

  “One thing more?”

  “Yes. My last secret.” I lifted his hands and kissed them; looked up smiling into his cloudless eyes. “My name is Hadassah.”

  To my surprise, he bent over my hands and kissed them as I had his. “Yes, my queen, my last and best and only love. I know.”

  EPILOGUE

  Dreams

  DANIEL

  Sunset; in the small courtyard the day’s heat pooled, a comfort to old bones. Daniel and Samamat sat watching as shadows darkened. In the endless sky above them, the first stars burned. “The brightest stars,” Samamat said. “The strongest stars. They appear first each night.”

  “The brightest and the strongest.” Daniel gazed up at the faraway stars. “Bright and strong. Like our two queens.”

  “The fiery star and the fixed star. What do you suppose she’ll do? Vashti, I mean.” For Samamat, there were no light questions, and so Daniel considered the matter thoroughly before answering.

  “In truth, Samamat, I don’t know. She might do anything or nothing. Perhaps she and Hegai will settle down and farm. Perhaps she’ll lead an army. Who knows?”

  “I hope she’ll be happy. I hope they’ll both be happy. We’ll never know, will we?”

  “Not unless you see them in the stars.”

  “Or you in dreams.”

  They both knew neither the stars nor dreams revealed truth so easily. For a while they sat silent; savored the comfortable, easy quiet of long intimacy. Just the two of them now, where for so many years it had been three.…

  “At least we’re still here to see what happens,” Daniel said, and Samamat smiled.

  “With a new queen and a king who might as well be new, considering the change in his conduct? Yes, that will be amusing to watch. Sometimes, Daniel, I think it’s good to be old. Whatever happens, good or bad, it won’t affect us for long.”

  “You know, I’m not sure that’s actually a lot of comfort, Sama.”

  “It should be. Think about it: suppose we were the young king and queen, waiting to see if Haman’s plot would succeed—it so easily might have. And if it did, imagine how many years we’d have to hear screams and weeping in our dreams.”

  “Samamat, do you remember Susannah?”

  “Of course, Daniel.” Samamat hesitated, took his hand before she went on, “You haven’t mentioned her name in years. Why now?”

  “Do you realize that if I hadn’t saved Susannah’s life, I might never have come to Shushan? And if I hadn’t…” If I had not been here, would Vashti have refused the king’s command? Would Esther have become queen? If I hadn’t been here to advise two queens—

  “If you hadn’t—?” Samamat prompted, and Daniel lifted their clasped hands and kissed her fingertips.

  “If I hadn’t, I’d probably be lying dead now, along with all the other Jews in the empire. Without Vashti and Esther standing in his way, Haman’s plot probably would have succeeded.”

  “Well, Haman’s plot was foiled, and Haman’s dead. One man instead of many. That’s a good come out of evil.” A breeze sighed through the olive leaves. Samamat paused, listening. “Do you know, for a breath there I thought I heard Arioch.”

  “Oh? And what did he say?”

  “That ‘it would have saved everyone a lot of trouble if Grand Prince Haman had accidentally fallen off his horse riding down the Great Staircase and accidentally broken his damn neck. My lord king.’” Samamat mimicked Arioch’s dry, matter-of-fact tone so closely it made Daniel smile.

  “Yes, I can just hear him saying it. If he’d only still been alive…”

  “Haman would have met an unfortunate accident?”

  “I think so. Yes. You know what Arioch was like.”

  “Practical,” she said.

  “Yes,” said Daniel. “Very practical.”

  Samamat sighed and laid her head on Daniel’s shoulder. “Oh, Daniel—I do miss him. You know I love you, but—”

  “You loved him, too. I know. So did I, Sama.”

  “We still love him, Daniel. You don’t stop loving someone just because he’s no longer in this world.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “But I do wonder where he is now, and what he’s doing.”

  Unbidden, dreamless, a vision rose before Daniel: Arioch, garbed in his warrior’s armor, arguing with a dark gatekeeper.…

  “I’m sure that wherever he is, he’s being Arioch. You’re the
astrologer, Sama. What do the stars tell you?”

  “The same thing your dreams tell you, Daniel.” Samamat kissed his cheek, and smiled. “That he’ll be waiting.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  INDIA EDGHILL is a librarian living in the mid Hudson Valley of New York. She is the author of three other novels: Wisdom’s Daughter, which was a Romantic Times Nominee for Best Historical Fiction, Queenmaker, and Delilah. You can sign up for email updates here.

  ALSO BY INDIA EDGHILL

  Delilah

  Wisdom’s Daughter

  Queenmaker

  File M for Murder

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  Prologue: Stars

  Book 1: The Lion’s Den

  Book 2: The Court of Miracles

  Book 3: Queen of Beauty

  Book 4: Star of Wisdom

  Book 5: Palace of Dreams

  Book 6: One Night with the King

  Book 7: For Such a Time as This

  Epilogue: Dreams

  About the Author

  Also by India Edghill

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  GAME OF QUEENS. Copyright © 2015 by India Edghill. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

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