Star of Persia: Esther's Story

by Jill Eileen Smith

  “Is there anything else, my queen?” her maid asked, when at last she stood dressed in all her finery and royal jewels. Almost as magnificent as on her wedding day. Almost. She would not dare to wear the garments that Xerxes had considered his alone to see, for she had come before him shielded from the eyes of those who would look on. A bride of the king was not to be seen by the common people or even the nobility on her wedding day. Once she belonged to him, she still remained somewhat secluded, kept in the palace, rarely seen in public.

  But today would be different. Today that rule must be broken, and the feasting men would look upon the beauty of the king’s most favored queen. Xerxes would break all protocol to command such a thing, but if Amestris had her way, he would command it. And Vashti would become common in the eyes of every man in Susa and be shown as the peasant she truly was.

  Vashti looked out over the gardens from her private rooms and sipped her second cup of reddish-brown tea, trying to relax before she was forced to face Atossa, Amestris, and hundreds of staring women. The call to the king’s rooms had been unexpected, but she took courage in his need of her. As long as he needed her, Amestris would be less likely to win him over or usurp her place as queen. And tomorrow she would be free to roam the palace in peace, free of the confines of hostess to the noblewomen.

  She drew in a breath and slowly released it, feeling the tension at last ease from her shoulders. In all their years of marriage, Xerxes had never asked her to host so lengthy a feast. A few days, yes. But she had spent many months avoiding the men he had entertained from around the empire, and now to have to be part of his desire for yet more feasting and the resulting drunkenness caused a sliver of fear to creep up her spine. She couldn’t tell him, of course, but she hated Xerxes’ drinking.

  She was much happier to have him thinking clearly, honestly, and soberly than to have him merry. He paid attention to their son, showed her greater kindness, and didn’t consume himself with the troubles of his kingdom or other kingdoms he seemed insistent on conquering. Wine changed all of that in him, and she hated it. Her people had fallen to destruction when her father, Belshazzar, and his nobles drank from the golden goblets of the Hebrew god, and she feared one day Xerxes would do something just as foolish and end up judged by some god he had offended.

  She set the tea on a side table and took one last look at the gardens. Tonight she would wear her jewels and royal crown. Xerxes would be glad to know she wore the crown, even if she didn’t tell him she’d only done so once. She knew he would have wanted her to wear it every night of the feast to show the others the way he favored her. What he didn’t know was fine with her. Though she had no doubt his mother or Amestris would report her every move to him.

  She must watch Amestris more carefully. Omid would help her do so, as he always did. Perhaps she would send him to check on the woman before the banquet began—see what she did with her time. If he could do so inconspicuously. Yes, that’s what she should do. Better to know her rival’s actions than to be blindsided by them.

  CHAPTER

  Seven

  What do you expect Amestris to do, my queen? I have had little success in the past in securing information about her. Her servants are loyal. And if I follow her too closely, she will suspect you of spying on her.” Omid clasped his hands in front of him. “Though if you ask it of me, I will do my best to be discreet.”

  “I do not want you to put yourself in danger, Omid. I simply want to make sure Amestris is not somehow speaking with the king when she belongs with the women. I know I sound fearfully ridiculous, but there has been something in her manner these past few days that has concerned me. I would like to relieve my fears.” Vashti touched one of her earrings to make certain it was straight, though she knew it was placed perfectly.

  “I will see what I can do, Majesty.” Omid bowed and left her presence.

  She walked to the banquet hall, escorted by her eunuchs and maids. Undoubtedly Amestris would be there already, waiting, watching. No matter how early Vashti arrived, Amestris always seemed to be one step ahead of her. The realization brought an uneasy feeling to her gut. Why did her rival evoke these fears? But she knew the reason. Amestris’s hatred of Vashti could be felt even across the length of a room, no matter how congenial she pretended to be. How glad she would be when this feast ended and she could avoid Amestris at all costs.

  Amestris crossed the threshold of the hall of women into the king’s private gardens. Memucan met her before she had a chance to fully enter.

  “You should not be here. What are you thinking? He is not in good humor or thinking clearly.” Memucan frowned and rubbed his clean-shaven chin.

  “I need to talk to you, and it cannot wait.” Amestris intertwined her arms over her chest and met his fierce gaze. “I’ve had a dream, and I believe there is a way to coax the king to bring down Vashti.”

  Memucan glanced behind him, then leaned closer. “Be careful what you say,” he hissed. “We cannot know who might be hiding in the foliage or hear of your words in some other way, and then it would be you in trouble. And me for having spoken to you.” He stepped back, the scowl growing deeper.

  Amestris was not deterred. “All you have to do is convince the king to request Vashti to appear before the men dressed in her royal finery, wearing her royal crown. To show off her beauty to his guests. Trust me, he will want to show others what only he is supposed to see. Especially when he is thoroughly drunk.”

  Memucan stared at her for so long she wondered if he would speak. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You are asking me to suggest that he go against a most deeply held rule of court. No man is to look upon the king’s women, not even during the ceremony of marriage. You know this. Do you not recall the heavy veils that hid you from the eyes of all? What makes you think the king would even consider such a thing?”

  Good. He was considering her suggestion. She could tell by the fact that he had repeated her request to her. And by the gleam in his eyes. He would like to see Vashti humiliated as much as she would.

  “If this was not of the gods, why would I have had such a dream? I have thought for years of a way to expose her for what she is—a Babylonian half princess not fit to rule in any fashion on Persia’s throne. And then the thought came in a dream. How can you discount it?” She tapped one finger against her chin and watched him.

  His eyes gave away his struggle. “I should not even be talking to you.”

  She knew then that she had him. “But you are, and you know I am right.” She slowly smiled. “Trust me. When it is done and I take Vashti’s place, your daughters will rise to places of great prominence. I have greater influence over Xerxes than Vashti ever did.” She didn’t, but he did not need to know that. Or how inadequate and uncertain she felt.

  “I will watch to see if there is a good time. I will not act if there is not.” Memucan moved away from her.

  “There will be,” Amestris assured him. “Trust me.”

  He turned and left without a word. He might not trust her, but he would act. When the time was right and her husband was fully drunk, Memucan would plant the idea, and the king would do the rest.

  Vashti turned at the sound of footsteps. Omid motioned to her, and she moved gracefully toward him, though her steps threatened to match the sudden pounding of her heart. They met in an alcove to the side of the banquet hall.

  Vashti looked before and behind her to be sure they were alone. “What did you learn?” She bent nearer to him and he leaned down, for he towered over her.

  “Amestris met with Memucan,” Omid said, his lips drawn into a thin scowl. “I did my best to draw close enough to hear their conversation, but I could only piece together parts of it.”

  “What was your impression?” The meeting could have been about anything, but Vashti doubted it was good.

  “I heard your name mentioned. And they spoke of a desire to see you taken down by the king himself. I am sorry that I could not hear more than that. I risked being noticed if I
got closer to them.” Omid clasped his hands behind his back and straightened. “What would you have me do, my queen? Shall I attend the banquet of the king’s men and try to intercept anything Memucan tries to do?”

  Vashti smoothed her gown and glanced down the long hall, which led to the outer doors of the room. “No,” she said. “I would rather have you here. Watch Amestris and keep me abreast of anything else she does that seems wrong or out of place. She would take my position as queen and favorite of Xerxes in a heartbeat. But the king has never listened to her or to his mother in this regard. And if anyone has influence with him, it is his mother. Memucan will not be able to convince the king of anything he is not willing to do.”

  Even drunk, Xerxes would not foolishly do something to harm her. He loved her.

  She drew in a breath and let it slowly release. “We will continue today as we have all week. If something happens that is out of the normal routine, I will trust you to help me make the right decision.”

  Omid nodded. “Of course, my queen.”

  As he stepped back at her dismissal, she wondered again whether there was truly anyone she could trust.

  Xerxes entered the court of men amid a lengthy fanfare. Though it was still early in the day, after Vashti left him he’d grown restless. He must finish this week and be done with it. Surely he could stop the desire for fine food and drink, which seemed at times to consume him.

  He settled on cushions that overlooked the garden court, where some of the men of Susa had begun to gather. His seven noblemen soon joined him, and servants started filling the golden goblets with rich red wine.

  Entertainers and musicians and jugglers filled one corner of the court, and men gathered to watch. Xerxes looked on from above and listened to one of the stories Memucan was telling them.

  “My wife tried to talk me out of coming tonight,” he said, leaning closer to Xerxes. “She feared I was drinking too much and for some reason seems to think it’s a bad thing for a man to enjoy himself.” He laughed, and Xerxes joined him. Vashti would never have told him what he did was wrong. She might encourage him to drink less, but she did not have the audacity of Memucan’s wife.

  “I assume you told her to mind her own business,” Shethar said. Everyone knew that Shethar’s wife was the quiet, obedient type.

  “I did indeed,” Memucan said, smiling. “At first I did not receive the response I expected from her. She had the nerve to argue with me.”

  Xerxes looked at his nobleman’s expression to gauge whether the story was true.

  “Of course, I could not tolerate such a response.” Memucan lifted his chin. “She did not argue long.” His eyes narrowed and he sipped from his cup. “I will not allow a woman to rule my own house.”

  Murmurs of agreement passed among the men, and Xerxes offered a slight nod. A man was to be honored in his own home. Everyone in Persia knew it. Surprising that Memucan’s wife was not already more obedient and acquiescing. None of Xerxes’ wives would argue with him, especially Vashti. Amestris had tried, but she learned quickly that he did not tolerate such disrespect.

  He turned away from his men to watch the jugglers, pondering Memucan’s tale. Had the man struck his wife in order to stop the argument? It would not have surprised him, though Xerxes had never found it necessary or desirable to strike a woman. They might deserve death, but those cases were just. Was Memucan just?

  He took a long drink, wondering why the tale troubled him at all.

  As the midday festivities drew near, Vashti returned to the banquet hall and entered with all of the fanfare of her royal status. Every noblewoman bowed as the flag bearers and trumpeters announced her presence. She took her seat at the center of the room, where a golden throne had been placed for her use. Rarely did she have the chance to sit in a place of such honor, and tonight she would use it to her advantage. The dining and entertainment could go on around her while she watched the women.

  She nodded once at Omid, who had suggested the seating arrangement, and settled back, her gaze moving over the room. Amestris sat at the main table with Atossa, a look of satisfaction on her normally pinched face. Vashti looked past her without interest. Let the woman think she had control over the king’s advisors. Vashti would not be controlled.

  She smiled at the rest of the women and bid them to take their places. Jugglers and dancers took up the center of the room, and servants moved about, serving the women every delicacy of food and drink that Vashti had ordered.

  By the time the sun began to set, Vashti had allowed herself to relax. Soon the banquet would end, and she could return to her son and all would be well.

  How good it would be to be rid of her continual contact with Amestris. Cunning, controlling, and cruel Amestris. That Xerxes had agreed to wed her had hurt Vashti more deeply than she cared to admit. But it was the price one paid to marry a king. As the daughter of kings, she knew that too well.

  Xerxes felt his head spin, and laughter spilled from his mouth at every simple thing said to him. Oh yes, he was quite merry now. But it was the last night he would allow himself to consume so much wine, and tomorrow he could call for Vashti to help if he had another headache.

  He laughed at the thought of her rubbing his shoulders, caressing him, and his mind drifted to all he would do with her when they were at last alone again. Such beauty. The woman was flawless.

  Memucan was talking again and mentioned that his reason for keeping his wife was her beauty.

  Xerxes guffawed at the comment. “No one can top my Vashti’s beauty. And she is as obedient as a trained pup.”

  “Perhaps you would like to prove her obedience to us, my king,” Memucan said. “And let us gaze on her beauty to see for ourselves.” He smiled, then looked from one man to the next.

  Each one of his nobles murmured their agreement.

  “Yes.”

  “What a good idea.”

  “Send for the queen.”

  The comments continued until Xerxes wished he had not opened his mouth. But the words were said, and now he had something to prove. These men would not respect him if he did not show them that he spoke the truth.

  “All right,” he said to an attendant standing near. “Send me the seven eunuchs who serve me.” He would dispatch them to fetch Vashti from the women’s banquet and show off her beauty to the entire crowd. Never mind that no one but him was supposed to see the queen’s beauty, not even her face. He would make it up to Vashti later. She would come for him. She would understand his need.

  A commotion at the outer door drew Vashti out of her thoughts and away from the distant buzz of female voices. She searched for Omid, but he no longer stood near. She spotted him near the entrance, where seven men waited.

  Vashti squinted, trying to take in the features of the men. Omid spoke with them, his expression troubled. When he stepped back, a knot settled in Vashti’s middle. The men were the king’s seven eunuchs. She would recognize them anywhere. They were among the very few who served in the presence of the king. She often spoke with them when one or more were sent to fetch her to appear in Xerxes’ chambers.

  Why were they here now? The banquet had not ended, had it? Was Xerxes back in his rooms, wanting her to join him? So soon after a week of feasting? Curiosity mingled with uncertainty in her heart. She met Omid’s gaze as he knelt before her.

  “My queen. The king’s men have come with a message from the king.” Though he kept his voice low, she could hear the strain in his tone.

  “Speak,” she said, looking briefly at the king’s eunuchs.

  Omid cleared his throat, and she sensed his discomfort. “The king has commanded Queen Vashti to appear before him wearing her royal crown, in order that he might display her beauty to the peoples and the princes.” He had not risen from his kneeling position and spoke without meeting her gaze.

  She drew in a sharp breath, which caused her servant to look up. “Now?” What was Xerxes thinking? No one other than the servants and the king was supposed to look up
on the beauty of the king’s women. Even as queen, she did not sit beside him on his royal throne or stand in public. Not once since she had become queen had he made such a request. Even Amestris and Xerxes’ concubines were kept from public view. To ask her to come before his men was to betray a trust. It was degrading and disrespectful of him.

  How could he?

  She bid Omid to stand before her. He rose slowly. “Is that all they said?” she whispered so only he could hear.

  “Yes, my queen.”

  She studied his square face. “Why would he ask such a thing? It goes against his protocol. He would never do this if he were thinking clearly. Is he drunk with wine?”

  Omid shrugged one shoulder. “I do not know, my queen. I suspect so, as that seems to be his custom during such feasts.”

  Vashti sat in silence, looking over the crowd of women who had grown unnervingly quiet. Each one seemed to focus either on the eunuchs or on her. She searched for Amestris and Atossa but saw only Atossa in her assigned seat. Was Amestris behind this?

  Memucan must have planted this idea in the king’s head, for surely he would not ask it on his own.

  Her ire rose as she looked about the room again. “Where is Amestris?” she asked Omid, keeping her voice low.

  He turned slowly, looking left to right. His expression told her what she already knew. “She does not appear to be in the room, my queen.”

  Vashti fought the temptation to chew her lower lip. Her rival had something to do with this. That’s why she’d met with Memucan this morning. Did she truly think Vashti would be so foolish as to humiliate herself in front of all? When Xerxes sobered, he would regret his decision to parade her before them, and it could ruin her relationship with the king for good. He would no longer be able to say that he alone had looked on her beauty, and he might put another in her place.