Star of Persia: Esther's Story

by Jill Eileen Smith

  “Thank you.” Esther hid her surprise at Hegai’s quick answer to her request. Word had come to her the week after their talk that Xerxes had gone to Persepolis to oversee building projects there. Besides completing the palace of his father, Darius, he was building a Gate of All Nations. Would he also seek out Vashti there? Rumors floated throughout the harem that the king had secretly sent her there, but would he go against the law of the Medes and Persians and allow her into his presence? There would be no need for this contest if he accepted Vashti back into his life.

  She shook the thought aside as they entered a small room filled with scrolls from the ornate ceiling to the mosaic floor. A scribe sat at a wide desk, and chairs were positioned in various places along the walls. All thoughts of Vashti vanished at the sight of so many scrolls containing annals of the kings of Persia. How had Hegai managed to gain her entrance here?

  “Mistress Esther, is it?” The scribe rose and welcomed her into the room. Shirin followed but remained behind her.

  “Yes, my lord.” She bowed, and the scribe chuckled.

  “You have no need to bow to servants, mistress. Only the king is to be so revered, or those he assigns the highest ranking in his kingdom. His wives and concubines are not to trouble themselves with mere servants like myself.” He bowed to her instead, and she smiled, masking her discomfort.

  “Now,” he said, taking his seat again after directing her to choose a seat along one of the walls, “tell me what it is you would like to learn of the king.”

  “Read to me of his conquests in battle. Of his victories.” She wasn’t all that interested in war but sensed that the more she knew of the way of kings, the better. And kingdoms and war seemed to go hand in hand.

  The scribe raised a brow, his expression one of surprise. “No other wife of the king has ever asked such a thing.” He went to the wall and pulled a scroll from the stack. “Are you sure you would not rather read of his history, his childhood, his family? Women are more often concerned with these things.”

  She lifted her chin to better gaze into his eyes. “I would like to learn all, but if we have time for only one visit, I would like to learn what the king enjoys best. Would that not be his victories in war?”

  The scribe studied her a moment. “Xerxes is a king who has gone to war because war is expected. He warred with Greece because his father, Darius, had the desire but died before he could carry out his wishes. He has put down rebellions in Babylon and Egypt, but he does not go to war by choice, mistress. Even now he is building in Persepolis. He is a king of peace more than war.”

  Esther folded her hands in her lap, her mind whirling with this new information. “Then I would like to hear whatever you think is best for me to understand the king.”

  The scribe touched his bare chin and turned to look over the scrolls. He pulled a different one from its slot and unrolled it on the desk.

  As he read to her, Esther listened, trying to memorize the names of Xerxes’ family, his building projects, and his decrees, one of which caused a sinking feeling in her middle. Apparently at some point in his past, he stopped trusting his closest advisors, and no one was allowed into his presence without permission, on pain of death. Perhaps her future husband—was she to consider him that?—trusted no one but himself.

  She pondered the thought as she returned to her rooms with Shirin. “Yet he has many advisors,” she said aloud before she could stop herself.

  “Yes, mistress, the king always seeks advice, sometimes even from his servants.” Shirin spoke softly as they approached the rooms of the virgins on their way to her apartments.

  “I see.” Esther picked up her pace, suddenly needing to escape these halls and rest in the cool of her rooms.

  Of course he trusted people. Probably more often than he wanted to. If he did not, he would not ask advice and she would not be in this predicament. Unless perhaps the king had no confidence in his own judgments.

  She stopped short at the threshold and looked at Shirin but kept her thoughts to herself. As Shirin left her to the care of Parisa and Rosana, she wondered if the king was a man ruled by fear of failure. Perhaps he trusted those closest to him because he could not trust himself.

  Xerxes rode his horse through the streets of Persepolis, surrounded by guards, with Haman and two of his nobles, Carshena and Shethar, at his side. He stopped at the Gate of All Nations and examined the four stone columns rising toward the sky, then moved to each of the three doorways. Workmen heaved a cart carrying a massive bull toward the western entrance, the second of the pair that would guard the door. The gate was impressive, but not nearly as impressive as the Apadana, the great audience halls with numerous columns that rose to the height of nearly twelve men.

  He reined in his steed and cantered toward the south entrance that led to the construction on the great hall. He motioned for Haman to draw up beside him. A guard moved to allow the man closer access.

  “Make a note that I want this hall finished before I choose my new queen. Give them six months. If I have not found a queen by then, at least the hall will be ready.” He looked over the unfinished work with pride of ownership, but he chafed at realizing how much there was left to do.

  “My lord, if you are willing to hire more workmen, I am certain that we can have this project finished in time. One column alone can take months to move into place.” Haman spoke candidly, yet his voice carried his typically humble tone. He rested a hand on his horse’s neck and glanced at Xerxes.

  Xerxes watched the men, their bare backs dripping with sweat as they worked. They had many columns to set in place, the floor to lay down, and the roof to put on, not to mention the many inner touches, the golden interlays, the tapestries, the throne, and the benches for people to wait for an audience with him.

  But he wanted to bring his new bride here. The hall in Susa would suffice, as it matched this one in magnificence, but somehow he thought bringing her here would wipe out his memories of Vashti. He should never have sent Vashti to Persepolis. Even now, he debated the idea of having his servants seek her out and move her to another town. The temptation to avoid a city he loved was too great, the temptation to find her too strong.

  Curse Memucan and his ideas! He should never have put Vashti in that position or listened to his foolish advisor. Why could he not make a simple decision without allowing others to insert their opinions?

  Haman spoke, interrupting his internal tirade. “Shall I order more men to work on this project, my lord? Or would you halt work on the Gate of All Nations to finish this first?”

  Xerxes regarded the man, wondering whether he should listen to yet another advisor’s advice. Realistically, he would not finish with the virgins for another year unless he found one he wanted sooner rather than later. He had already wasted six months on his concubines while he waited for the virgins, none of whom were the least bit interesting. None of them were like Vashti. Or her opposite, which might be better.

  “Hire more men. Tell them to increase the pace, but not at the expense of the work. The work comes first. They must make this excellent, a place to make their king proud to live in and nations awed to visit.” He turned and rode in the opposite direction, up a hill toward the palace there. “We will return to Susa tomorrow,” he said to Haman. “Make sure everything is ready.”

  He rode forward with his guards, leaving his advisors behind. The visit here had been worthwhile, but he could not shake the restlessness that called him back to Susa. Why he imagined that city a better place than this, he could not say. Susa held all of the memories of his failures. But it also held the hope of a brighter future. One he was anxious to begin.

  CHAPTER

  Twenty

  The chill of midspring caused Esther to burrow deeper into the covers and relish this, her last day in the hall of virgins. Her maids milled in silence about the room, one fanning a small fire in a brick oven, another setting food at a table near the fire, a third off in another room preparing a bath.

 
“You are awake,” Mahin said, smiling down at her. “I see you wish you were not. Did we make too much noise, mistress?”

  Esther poked her head above the warm blankets. “I was just enjoying the warmth and the feeling of the bed on my last morning here.”

  Mahin looked away, and Esther caught a glimpse of tears in her eyes. “We will miss you.” Her voice sounded hoarse.

  Esther sat up, the covers forgotten. “You have no need of that. You will surely go with me to the king’s harem for his wives.”

  Mahin shook her head. “I do not know whether Hegai can spare us. And I do not know if you are allowed to keep us. Most virgins do not take their maids with them.”

  Esther pondered the girl’s words as Parisa held open a thick robe for her and Rosana led her to sit and eat. She would not be joining the other virgins in the dining hall today. Nothing would be the same today or after this day, and the thought brought tension to her middle and caused a sense of anxiety and excitement to mingle within her. She looked at her maids, all of them avoiding her gaze.

  “Well, this will never do,” she said, smiling at them. “If I have anything to say about it, if any request is given to me, I will ask for all of you. And if I am refused, you must obey your next mistress willingly. It does no good to compare one with another, as you may come to hate me or her, depending on whom you like better.”

  Mahin laughed and the others giggled. “The very thought that we could ever hate you.” Mahin laughed harder, a delightful sound. “You are the most gracious of them all. Everyone loves you, mistress. Do you not realize this?”

  She shook her head. “I have not given the matter any thought.”

  “Well, they do. Especially Hegai. He favors you best,” Zareen said.

  Esther fingered a date, embarrassed by the praise. “I am glad,” she said softly. She looked overlong at each piece of furniture, each article of clothing, each woman in her care, each item of food set before her, in an attempt to extend the moments and place them solidly in her memory. At last she stood and walked to the window to gaze on the gardens that had brought her much peace in her year here.

  A knock at the door caused her to turn. Hettie hurried to answer it. Hegai stood tall in the arch of the door and moved inside, his girth and height seeming to fill the room.

  She walked closer. “Hegai. Thank you for coming.” Her maids stood back as if they did not know what to do. Or perhaps they waited for his instructions for her.

  “This is your day, Esther. You may choose whatever you like to take to the king. Remember, this is your last day to occupy these rooms. So take what means the most to you.” He looked at her with an expression of fatherly affection.

  Esther studied him, her heart aching, already missing him. “I would like you to pick for me, Hegai. I trust you. You know the king better than I, whereas I only know what I have been told, some of which is not likely to be completely true. I would take my mother’s ring, but other than that, I ask you to choose, please.”

  Hegai smiled, his mouth slightly tilted to one side and his eyes lit with a boyish enthusiasm. “Thank you, Esther.” He looked at her maids. “After you have bathed and oiled her with the faintest hint of frankincense, use no other perfume. Apply only the lightest of the cosmetics. She is beautiful without them, so let us not mar her beauty.” He studied her. “Dress her in a simple white, semi-sheer tunic. The king will enjoy the ability to see her well. But cover the tunic with a pale blue robe trimmed in purple.”

  Parisa hurried to the garment room and returned with clothing that matched Hegai’s description. “Do these suffice, my lord?”

  Hegai took the tunic and robe and nodded. “Soft and beautiful. Yes. This is perfect. Tie the robe with a purple sash. Place a golden pendant around her neck and hang golden earrings from her ears. Let me see her choice of sandals.”

  Parisa hurried back to the room after laying the garments flat on the bed, which had already been stripped of its linens. She returned with an armful of sandals and set them on a chair.

  Hegai bent to examine them and pulled a pair of intricately carved leather devoid of jewels from the pile. “You will go as a virgin with hints of wealth to show off your character and your beauty. You may wear your mother’s ring, but do not wear bracelets. The less distraction you give him, the better. The king, you shall see, likes simple pleasures, despite the ornate designs you find throughout the palace.”

  “And my hair?” Esther’s head spun with his quick choices. She sensed by his look that Hegai had planned this for some time, probably in the hopes that she would ask for his help. She breathed a silent prayer of thanks to Adonai, for she knew she could never have decided on her own.

  Hegai rubbed his chin and had her turn about. Her long, dark hair fell to the middle of her back. To wear it down would be scandalous. Her heart beat faster at the thought, for she had no idea what Hegai would suggest or what the king would desire.

  “Wear it up. Hold it in place with combs that are easily removed. The king will enjoy removing them.” His frank comment made heat fill her cheeks, despite her training. To think that this night all of her training would come to fruition caused repeated bouts of anxiety to fill her. Could Hegai see the rapid pounding of her heart beneath her robe?

  “Parisa, you do her hair. You have a knack for setting the combs just right.”

  Parisa nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

  “All right then.” Hegai looked her over once more. “I will leave you to enjoy your last day here, but be ready to come with me before the sun sets. The king often enjoys watching it glow, and perhaps he would enjoy sharing that with you.”

  Esther simply nodded as Hegai turned and walked out as quickly as he had come. Her maids all began to talk at once, and Esther moved as one in a dream, or perhaps as a lamb to the slaughter, if she thought overmuch on what was really about to take place. This day would go too fast. She told herself over and over again that she was ready.

  Hegai again appeared at Esther’s door hours later as the sun began its descent over Persia. Her heart had beat like a steady drum all day, but now as she saw the smile and approving nod of Hegai and the giddy excitement of her maids who stood surrounding her, it slowed to a normal rhythm. What had been done was done. What would be would be. She had only to control her emotions, her actions, and her words. The rest was up to God. Did He care about her situation in this foreign place?

  The walk down the long, winding palace halls seemed to stretch on and on, to the point that even her maids fell silent, the only noise Hegai’s heavy footfalls. When they reached the hall leading to the king’s chambers, Hegai dismissed her maids and pointed to a door several paces away. “From here you must go alone.” He regarded her with gentle affection. “Do all that has been taught to you. Remember my advice, and treat the king as graciously as you have everyone else within the palace. Do this and you will find the experience a good one.”

  He bowed to her, and she fought to keep tears at bay. Would she ever see him again? Once she entered the second harem she would be under the care of a different eunuch. The temptation to hug him filled her, but she knew if she mussed her gown, he would be troubled and anxious. So she simply leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

  “Thank you, Hegai. I will never forget you or all you have done for me.” She moved on at his parting nod, her heart once again picking up its pace. She reminded herself to move slowly, with grace. Guards stood on either side of the door, but they did not look her way. Was she supposed to knock?

  Before she could think of what to do next, the door opened and a servant ushered her into the room. Hegai must have timed her entrance with the servant. She stepped across the threshold and glanced about the room. Hegai had been right. The king’s tastes were simple, not elegant as the rest of the palace was.

  “Welcome.” A man who could only be the king stepped toward her. His straight brown hair fell to his shoulders, and his light brown beard was cropped short. Green eyes focused on her, making her breath
catch. He was older than she but still bore a handsome, well-muscled frame beneath his unadorned purple robe. No crown graced his head. Nevertheless, she bowed low at his approach.

  “Tell me your name,” he said.

  He took her hand, and she straightened. “Esther, my lord.”

  He studied her for a lengthy moment, his smile casual. “Come. Share a meal with me.” He led her to a table near a window that allowed him a wide view of the city he ruled. “Sit.” He motioned to a cushioned stool, where she gingerly sat, watching him.

  Golden plates were piled high with food, and smaller golden bowls sat at each setting. Wine sparkled in golden goblets with intricate designs as though waiting for them to taste its richness.

  “Are you hungry?” He tilted his head to better look at her.

  “Not overmuch. But I could eat a few things.” In truth, she had lost her appetite soon after the morning meal. Anticipation and a hint of dread had replaced her need for food.

  “I am not surprised.” He broke off a piece of bread and filled the bowl with nuts and fruit. “You are likely worried what to expect from me.” He said it so matter-of-factly that she looked up and searched his gaze.

  “I have been curious about you since the day they brought me here.” She smiled. “And yet no one seemed to be able to tell me the things I wished to know.”

  He laughed. “You have likely been listening to the gossips.”

  “And learning about the wars you have won and the grand structures you are building. But that does not tell me about you, oh king.” She told her heart to slow lest she speak too fast and say too much.

  “What would you like to know?” He popped a grape into his mouth.

  “I would like to hear you tell of the things you care about. Tell me whatever you would like to tell.” She toyed with the bread he had given her, then took a small bite.