Star of Persia: Esther's Story

by Jill Eileen Smith

  At last her attendant approached her and bowed. “Mistress Zeresh, wife of Haman, is asking to meet with you, my queen. What would you have me say to her servant?”

  Zeresh was seeking her out? So urgently? “I will see her. But not here. We will meet near the king’s stables.” It was a place she could go to speak with people outside of the palace and not arouse suspicion. And she could always explain away her sudden interest in horses.

  “Very well, my queen.” The man rose and gave her message to the servant, then helped her to prepare for her secret meeting.

  Amestris determined on the walk over to keep her relationship with Zeresh cooler than it had been in times past. Haman had done many things of late that could go for or against him, and she didn’t want to be caught having any relationship with him or his family should things not go well.

  She and her attendant arrived with Zeresh already there, pacing the small area outside of the stable gates.

  “Zeresh. What a surprise to see you like this.” Amestris extended a ringed hand and allowed the woman to kiss her fingers. “What is so urgent?”

  “Did you hear about the way the king treated my Haman today?” Zeresh wrung her hands and gave Amestris an imploring look.

  “I have heard nothing. I have been in my apartments all day. Has the king done something displeasing to Haman?” She raised a brow. She really should pay better attention to court gossip. But since Esther’s crowning, she rarely saw her husband, and until her sons were grown, she had little reason to pursue her place as queen. Once Darius was of age, she would do what she must to claim her rightful place.

  But the look in Zeresh’s eyes told her that she should have paid more attention to the political goings-on. The palace was usually abuzz with news that had anything negative to do with Haman. No one liked the man, including her. But then, she suspected not many liked her either. It was the way of things in royal circles.

  “The king forced my Haman to parade about the city, leading Mordecai the Jew on the king’s horse, wearing the king’s robe.” Zeresh lowered her voice. “To ask such a thing of a servant might make sense, but to force his highest official to do such a thing . . .”

  Amestris felt the niggling sense of doom begin across the back of her neck, causing a slight headache. This was not like Xerxes at all. Did he not read his own edicts that the Jews were to be eliminated? Why on earth would he honor one?

  “This is not good, is it? I knew it the moment he spoke, and then the eunuchs came to take him to Esther’s banquet—”

  “Wait. Esther’s banquet? What banquet?” Why hadn’t she heard of it? Surely her choice to remain away from the court of women was no reason her servants should not keep her abreast of things like this! Anger simmered, but she pushed it down. She would deal with her eunuchs later.

  “The queen invited the king and my Haman to a banquet yesterday and today. And tonight as we were speaking, the eunuchs came to take Haman to the banquet. I don’t trust her, Amestris. Whatever can we do?”

  Amestris ignored the slight of Zeresh using her given name instead of addressing her as “my queen” as she usually did. She drew herself up and looked down at the sad woman. Zeresh had the makings of becoming a strong ally. But it was obvious that Haman’s fortunes were turning against him, and Amestris was not about to be part of helping him, for good or bad.

  “I’m afraid if Haman is with the king and queen, there is nothing to be done, Zeresh. You know as well as I do that no one approaches the king upon pain of death. If the queen is holding a private banquet, I’m sure she will give her reasons if she has not already done so, and we will hear of it. Perhaps Haman will be honored and your worry will be for nothing.”

  Zeresh slowly nodded. “Perhaps.” Though by her look she did not think so.

  “I must go. I wish I could help you, but I fear there is nothing I can do.” She turned and marched toward her waiting attendant, the one she trusted to keep her secrets. Once inside the palace, guards would join her and she would pretend she had been to the gardens. It was a good arrangement when she needed it. She should have used it when she had met with Memucan long ago. But she need not think about what was past any more than she need think of Zeresh or Haman. She would wait to hear what fate awaited them, but Haman was no longer someone with whom she wished to have any contact.

  She entered her rooms and sank onto the cushions, weary of life’s dramatic turns. “Tell me if you hear any news of Haman,” she told her attendant. “And I want to know about this banquet Esther planned for the king and Haman. Do not leave out any detail.”

  “Yes, my queen.” The man left to find her answers.

  Mordecai stopped at the threshold to his house, his mind still whirling with the day’s events. Dusk had fallen, and the neighborhood buzzed with the sounds of families talking and the scents of food cooking. But this was the second day of Esther’s banquet, and he had no appetite for food until he found out how things went.

  He opened the door to the quiet house, but moments later he turned and walked out again. He moved in the shadows past his pagan neighbors to the Jewish quarter, where men and women spoke in lower tones and the atmosphere was weighted with the heaviness of fear.

  He knocked on the door of his son Taneli’s house and was greeted with warmth. Niria set a place for him to eat with them, but he refused the food.

  “I thought we should pray,” he said, looking at Taneli. “Gather your brothers and let us pray for Esther tonight.”

  “We have prayed and fasted as she asked, Abba. Do you fear those prayers were not enough?” Taneli glanced at his wife and young children.

  “The children can eat—you may all eat if you wish. But after today, I am confused by the display of honor from the king when he seeks the very lives of our people.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And I thought it might not hurt to seek the Lord on Esther’s behalf one more time. Surely her family can pray for her.”

  Taneli nodded. “I will go to get my brothers, Abba. We will pray for our Hadassah.”

  Mordecai released a sigh and leaned into the couch in the sitting room. Surely Adonai was up to something to cause his honor on the same day as Esther’s banquet. Surely He had heard their many prayers for their people. But praying one more time couldn’t hurt.

  CHAPTER

  Thirty-nine

  Xerxes walked ahead of Haman through the palace halls to the queen’s apartments. One glance at Haman when the man had finally appeared had startled him, but he did not show his surprise. What had caused Haman’s cheeks to pale and his eyes to lose the merry shine he’d grown used to would have to remain a mystery. He would ask him later what troubled him. For now, all he could think of was what Esther wanted from him. She would not have gone to all of this trouble for no reason. And he sensed in his spirit that it was something that caused her great distress.

  Had she also had trouble sleeping last night? He should have called for her, but the timing had not been right. Besides, he was glad to have finally honored her father for saving his life. How he could have overlooked that at the time still appalled him. Had Haman’s suggestion been enough? Perhaps he should promote Mordecai to a higher position. He could make one up if he could not find someone who needed replacing.

  They stopped at the door to Esther’s banquet room, and he smiled in delight when she herself welcomed them.

  “Thank you for coming again, my lord.” She bowed low, then rose with such grace it took his breath. How beautiful she was!

  “I would never have refused you.” He took her hand and kissed it, something kings did not do, but he did not care. She was his bride, and right now he wished Haman was at the bottom of the sea so he could be alone with her. But he acknowledged Haman’s presence as Esther’s attendants seated them, and he spoke with him of superficial things as the food Esther had prepared was set before them.

  Esther sat opposite them. He watched her, amused with the careful way she ate and concerned with the tense way she held he
rself. She was normally so relaxed in his presence.

  At last they moved to her sitting area, where her attendants poured the wine in goblets of shining gold. He savored the rich tartness on his tongue. Haman held his cup without drinking. Esther’s cup sat on a low table beside her.

  Xerxes set his cup down as well and leaned forward, his gaze piercing hers. “Tell me what you want, Queen Esther. What is your request? I will give it to you, even if it is half the kingdom!”

  Esther stood, walked away from Haman, and knelt at Xerxes’ feet. She lifted her hands in supplication, her dark eyes earnest as she held his gaze. “If I have found favor with the king,” she said, her words respectful, humble, “and if it pleases the king to grant my request, I ask that my life and the lives of my people will be spared. For my people and I have been sold to those who would kill, slaughter, and annihilate us. If we had merely been sold as slaves, I could remain quiet, for that would be too trivial a matter to warrant disturbing the king.”

  Utter silence filled the room. Not even an insect or night fowl twittered or squawked or chirped in the gardens just beyond the open window.

  Xerxes stared at her in numb disbelief. “Who would do such a thing?” he demanded. “Who would be so presumptuous as to touch you?” Surely he had not heard her correctly. No one would dare!

  But she was speaking again, and her words snapped him out of his wild thinking. “This wicked Haman is our adversary and our enemy,” she said.

  Xerxes looked at Haman as if seeing him for the first time. If the man had been pale when he first arrived at the palace, he had gone nearly white with Esther’s statement. Which meant there was guilt there. Somehow he was responsible for this travesty.

  No longer able to stand the man’s presence, and needing to think, to understand, he jumped to his feet, rage pulsing through him. He stalked through the doors to the palace garden. How had Haman become Esther’s enemy?

  My people and I have been sold to those who would kill, slaughter, and annihilate us. Was this the group of people Haman had come to him about a year ago, complaining that they were a threat to his nation? His wife’s own people?

  How had he trusted this man so fully? He should have questioned him, asked for more details. He would never have allowed such a thing if he hadn’t trusted Haman so completely. What a fool he was!

  And yet, how dare this man go behind his back and use his own animosity to convince his king to annihilate innocent people? He must get to the bottom of this. He believed Esther with all of his heart, but he must know more, must ask the questions he did not ask at first. Must put a stop to this.

  He paced the garden, the rage building. No more thinking. Haman deserved to die for this. And if he could muster a drop of patience, he might ask the man’s excuse before he commanded his execution.

  Esther returned to her couch and reclined, her position allowing her not only to watch Haman but to nod to her guards at any hint of fear the man might evoke. She did not relish this moment alone with her enemy, and an exposed enemy was often a more deadly one. But her guards stood near with swords in hand. Haman could see them as easily as she could.

  Xerxes needed this time, for his hot anger would surely explode if he did not think this through. And how could she expect him to just trust her word? He might love her, but he had trusted Haman for years. Why should he trust her now?

  She longed to look toward the gardens in hopes of glimpsing him, of assessing his reaction, of guessing what he might do. Would he order Haman’s execution? But she dared not look lest she lose sight of her enemy.

  “My queen,” Haman spoke, startling her. He leaned forward on his couch, no longer reclining but sitting as if ready to jump up toward her. She tensed. “Please, my queen. I did not know any of this. I did not realize . . . I was simply trying to handle an unfortunate situation . . .”

  “You mean you wanted to get back at my father by destroying our people.” She glared at him, and he seemed to fight to keep his balance.

  He fell to his knees and drew closer. “No, my queen. I did not think of you . . . that he was . . . I did not realize he was your father, and I admit I was wrong to let my anger grow so strong. But please, have mercy on me.” He glanced toward the gardens, then moved closer and fell at the foot of her couch, his arm brushing her gown. “Please, my queen. The king is going to demand my life if you do not speak up and spare me. I will do anything you ask. I can give you riches. I will undo what the edict has done. I will give your father greater honor than I have today.”

  Esther shifted, uncomfortable with his nearness, but just as she was about to nod to one of her guards, the king burst through the doors, his face red, his hands clenched, and a scowl drawing deep lines upon his brow. “Will he even assault the queen right here in the palace, before my very eyes?”

  Esther leaned further into the couch as Haman fell backward. The king’s attendants who had accompanied him stepped forward, lifted Haman to his feet, and covered his face with a black cloth.

  One of the king’s eunuchs faced the king. “Haman has set up a sharpened pole that stands seventy-five feet tall in his own courtyard. He intended to use it to impale Mordecai, the man who saved the king from assassination.”

  Xerxes stared at Haman’s covered face for a short breath. He stepped closer, took Haman’s ring finger, and removed his signet ring. “Impale him on it!”

  The guards carried Haman out, limp and weeping, and did as the king commanded.

  Xerxes looked to where Esther had been sitting and noticed her place empty. He glanced about and found her pacing the very stones in the palace gardens where he had been.

  He approached slowly. She stopped. “I didn’t know,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I should have been more observant of his actions.”

  “You had no reason not to trust him. He had done his best to prove himself to you.” She knelt at his feet, causing him to feel uncomfortable.

  He took her hand and pulled her up.

  “I should have told you my heritage from the start. I am sorry.”

  He kissed her and held her close. “You have done nothing wrong. It is I who trusted an evil man. He will not hurt you ever again.” He patted her back, the fear of almost losing her rising within him, making him nauseous. He held himself still until the feeling passed. “I am giving Haman’s property to you,” he said, deciding at once that he had to do something to make it up to her. “All that he had is now yours.” He turned the signet ring over and over on his finger, then released Esther and took her hand in his.

  “There is something I should tell you. That is, I should remind you, for you already know it.” She sat on the bench he indicated and he sat beside her.

  “Tell me.” He cupped her face in his hand. “I will still give you anything you ask.”

  “It is not a request.” She searched his face. “You know that Mordecai is my adopted father, but he is really my cousin. He is Jewish, as am I.”

  “Mordecai saved my life.” Xerxes traced a line along her face. “Just today I had Haman honor him through the city streets. I read again about the way he discovered the plot to kill me.”

  “Yes. I remember.”

  “I should have honored him sooner, but with my mother’s death . . . ” He let the words linger, wishing again he had been better to her. How is it he seemed to fail every woman he loved? He shifted in his seat. “Let us go inside and call for your father. It is time he is properly rewarded.” They stood and walked slowly into her rooms again. “We will meet with him in my chambers, and then you will stay. I want your chambers moved to better quarters. I cannot abide the thought of Haman having set foot in these rooms. I will place you nearest to me. You need never fear approaching me again.”

  She turned and faced him, touching his face, smiling into his eyes. “You honor me more than I deserve.”

  “I honor you far less than I should. Now come. There is still much to be done.”

  CHAPTER

  Forty

&n
bsp; The king’s actions against Haman sent a ripple of shock through the entire palace of Susa. Amestris took Darius and Artaxerxes to Atossa’s former chambers. She knew Zeresh had been worried, which had caused Amestris to sense trouble brewing, but this! Haman’s screams still rang in her ears, and she sought her mother-in-law’s apartments, farther from the outer walls, for quiet. Please let there be quiet.

  “What’s going on, Maman?” Darius asked. “Why is everyone running and crying and whispering?”

  She looked at her twelve-year-old son and wrapped one arm about his shoulders. She pulled his brother close with her other hand. “When we get to your grandmother’s rooms, I will tell you.”

  Her guards hurried her along, and Amestris’s pulse raced. She had considered Haman a possible ally to help her make Darius co-regent. True, he was young, but kings could never be sure of the future, and though Amestris did not doubt that Darius would rule one day, she wanted control now. She wanted a say in the things Xerxes did. Esther held far too much sway over him, especially if she had the power to have the most influential man in the kingdom executed.

  A shiver worked through her. She reached her mother-in-law’s empty chambers and entered. The rooms were still strange without the imposing presence of Atossa, but Amestris felt a connection to the woman here even now.

  She closed the door behind them, walked the boys to the center of the room, and sat them beside her on the couch Atossa had once favored. She looked at Darius, then at Artaxerxes. “To answer your questions,” she said, looking again at her firstborn, “your father’s advisor Haman has been executed.” She had imagined a better way to say it, but they would be men soon enough, and they needed to know the truth.

  Darius scrunched his brow, a habit Xerxes did when things troubled him. “But why? I thought Pedar liked Haman.”

  “He did. But Haman did something that put Queen Esther in danger, and your pedar could not abide such behavior.” Would he have protected Amestris and her sons the same way?