A Reluctant Queen (20 page)

On Tuesday morning the king did not ride out, so Milis asked his closest friend in the guard, Artanes, to accompany him on a visit to town. Once the two young men were walking through the dusty back streets of Susa, Milis dragged his friend into a deserted wine shop and huddled with him over a stained wooden table in the corner.

After the plump proprietor had brought them a jug of wine and two cups, Milis said, “Teresh came to see me yesterday and he gave me a special assignment.”

“You?” Artanes was surprised. “Why you?”

“Because he thinks I am loyal to him.”

“So, what is this assignment then?”

“He wants me to kill the king.”

“What?”

“Quiet,” Milis hissed, and looked around the empty shop.

“What are you talking about?” Artanes whispered.

“He wants me to hold a pillow over his face when I am on guard duty. He wants it done Friday, on the day of the Mithra Festival, when the king and all the lords of the court get drunk on the gods’ potent brew. He wants me to pick a companion so there will be two of us to overpower him.”

Artanes shook his head, as if trying to clear it. “It’s a joke. You’re trying to trick me.”

Milis’ bony face was grim. His deep-set eyes burned. “It is no joke, Artanes. This is not something I would joke about.”

“No,” Artanes said in a subdued voice. “I suppose you wouldn’t.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We?”

“You are not going to refuse to help me?”

“I will not help you kill the king!”

“Shhh.” Milis gave a quick, hunted look toward the proprietor, who was setting out more cups on his serving table. He lowered his voice till Artanes had to lean across the table to hear him. “Of course I am not going to kill the king.”

“Did he say
why
he wanted Ahasuerus dead?”

“He said that Ahasuerus was refusing to go to war against the Greeks. That Persia was humiliated in the eyes of the world. That if Xerxes were king he would avenge the defeat of Marathon.”

“If Ahasuerus had commanded at Marathon we would not have lost,” Artanes said.

Deep lines creased Milis’ narrow forehead. “I don’t think Teresh knows that I transferred to the Guard from the Immortals. Or that I was in Egypt with Ahasuerus. He got my name from the lieutenant, who recommended me because I was loyal and obedient.” He swirled his untouched wine and some of it sloshed over the rim of the cup. “And ambitious. He promised me a lieutenancy, Artanes. A nice bribe for an ambitious man.”

The two guardsmen drank some of the warm red wine.

“You realize that if we don’t do the job, the Commander will find someone who will,” Artanes said.

Milis rubbed his forehead as if it still ached from last night’s beer. “I like Ahasuerus. He came among us during the Egyptian campaign. He even spoke to me once.”

“We must warn him,” Artanes said.

“How? What chance do you and I have to approach the Great King?”

“Sometimes we are assigned to ride out with him.”

“Yes, and do you want to push right up to him, with Teresh looking on, and blurt out our news?”

Artanes scowled. “No. I suppose not.”

Milis swatted at a fly that was buzzing around the puddle of wine he had spilled on the table. “If we don’t have access to the king we must talk to someone who has.”

“And who is that?” Artanes inquired.

“I think Smerdis is our best choice. He is the Grand Vizier. He will be able to warn Ahasuerus.”

“And how are we to get to Smerdis?”

“He meets with the palace administrative staff on Thursdays in the Household Court. We can see him then.”

“Another glass of wine?” the shopkeeper called from the serving table.

“No, thank you.” Milis stood up and Artanes followed slowly.

“I wish we weren’t involved in this. I have a bad feeling about what is going to happen.”

“I will go to see Smerdis on my own, if that is what you want.” Milis’ bony face was resolute.

“No, I will go with you.” Artanes squared his shoulders. “I like Ahasuerus too,” he said.

Now that Esther was back in Susa, she suddenly found herself popular with members of the Royal Kin. At first, when the requests for an appointment with her began to come in, Esther acquiesced out of politeness. But she soon realized what was happening. Ahasuerus’ numerous relatives thought she might exercise some power with him, and they were trying to influence her to get something out of the king that they wanted.

Esther was disgusted when she realized this and told Hathach to deny any more appointments. They were like parasites, this swarm of smiling relatives who lived off the largess of the king and did nothing to earn it.

She was also feeling the heat of Susa, and on one particular afternoon she decided to spend an hour or so in the Rose Court, which was the coolest place in the palace. There were two pages in front of the Rose Court’s closed door when she arrived with Hathach. Esther smiled at the little boys and said, “I did not realize the king was in the garden.”

The boys smiled back. All of Ahasuerus’ pages loved Esther. “He is with Lord Sargon, my lady.”

Sargon was one of the king’s many brothers who had tried to visit Esther. She hesitated, heard a loud voice that was not Ahasuerus’ coming from the courtyard, and decided to take a nap instead. When they had returned to her room, Hathach said, “Will you be needing me, my lady?”

“Not for a while, I’m going to sleep. Do you want to go to the stables?”

“I thought I would exercise Shirez.”

“Go right ahead, Hathach. Luara is here if I need anything.”

As soon as the door had closed behind Hathach, Luara said in an amused voice, “Ever since he got those scars in the lion hunt he has been like a different person.”

“I know.” Esther walked slowly toward the bed. “He also got blood poisoning and almost died. But apparently that doesn’t matter.” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Men.”

The white silk drapes were partially drawn across the open windows to keep out the sun, and the air in the bedroom was warm and still. Luara said in a strained voice, “You know, Hathach
is
a man, my lady. They didn’t cut him completely when they did it.”

Esther became instantly attentive. “I don’t think I understand what you mean.”

Luara came to kneel in front of her. “I mean they didn’t take everything.” The girl was looking anxiously into Esther’s eyes. “He cannot father children, but he is still . . . capable, my lady.”

“Capable,” Esther repeated. Then, suddenly, she comprehended what Luara was saying. “Do you mean he can still . . .”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Have you . . .”

Luara held her gaze bravely. “Once, my lady. Yes.”

Esther had never dreamed of this possibility. She blinked, trying to take it in.

Luara’s blue eyes were anxious. “Are you angry with us?”

At that, Esther’s heart swelled with compassion. She held out her hands and took Luara’s into a strong grip. “Of course I am not angry. How could you think I would begrudge either of you whatever happiness you might find in this prisoner’s life you lead?”

“It is not a prisoner’s life,” Luara said, tears trickling down her face. “Not since you took us to serve you. One never feels like a prisoner if one can be with the people one loves.”

Unbidden, Esther’s eyes moved toward the corridor and the king’s door that stood opposite hers. “That is true.”

“My lady.” Luara, still on her knees before Esther, turned her hand so it was she who was holding the queen’s in her own sturdy fingers. “He has not been to the harem. He only went in Ecbatana to see the children, and he has not been since you returned to Susa. I asked a few of the girls who would know, and that is what they told me. They say Mardene and Ilis are furious.”

It was as if the sun had come out after a long and dreadful spell of grayness and fog. He hadn’t gone to the harem. He had been faithful to her. She smiled radiantly. “Thank you, Luara. Thank you for telling me.”

“Let me make you comfortable, my lady. You look tired; you should rest.” She bent down to remove Esther’s shoes.

“Yes, I am tired. I don’t know what is the matter with me lately. The heat never used to affect me this way.”

Luara held back the silk sheet so that Esther could get into bed. She said gently, “Perhaps it is not just the heat, my lady.”

Esther’s eyes met the wise blue eyes of her maid. “What do you think it is?”

“I think you may be with child.”

After Luara had left her, Esther lay on her back and contemplated the many colored jewels tucked into the lattice work of the canopy. Luara’s words had not been a surprise. Esther’s bleeding was four weeks overdue, and she was never late.

I should be so happy
, she thought.
My first child. I should be bursting to share the news with my husband, who I know will be very pleased to hear it
. She put her arm over her eyes, blocking out the sight of the jewels.

If I were married to Abraham, it would be so different. We would both be excited; all our families would be excited. We would have a baby, like every other couple has a baby, and we would make a family of our own. It would have been so simple
.

But nothing was simple any more. If her child was a son, he would be the next Great King of Persia. The web that entwined her would grow even denser; the prospect of escape more impossible.

If Ahasuerus found out that his son’s mother was a Jew and not a Persian aristocrat, what would he do? Would he put her away as he had Vashti? Separate her forever from her child?

That could not happen. She could not allow that to happen. She could never, ever, under any circumstances, do anything that might take her child away from her.

She knew how a bird must feel when it is caught in a cage. No matter which way she flew, she was trapped. There was no way out.

Where was her Father in Heaven now? Was He watching? Did He really have some plan for her? If He did, she couldn’t see it. All she could see ahead of herself was lies and heartbreak.

The room was warm and the bed was comfortable and finally she dozed off. Her last thought before she slept was:
But I never loved Abraham the way I love Ahasuerus
.

When she opened her eyes again, the king was approaching her bed.

“Are you feeling all right, Esther? Your girl told me you were napping. You never nap.”

“I am fine, my lord.” She pushed herself up, lifting her hair off her hot neck. “I was just tired. I have not yet become accustomed to the heat.”

“You liked it in Ecbatana, didn’t you?”

“I loved it.”

He sat on the edge of the bed. “I love it there too. There are fewer people and fewer . . . complications.” He sighed. “But one can’t turn one’s back on the world forever. Unfortunately.”

He looked a little tired too, she thought. “I was going to sit in the Rose Court earlier but you were before me.”

He said grimly, “One of my father’s too-many sons has been getting into trouble again, and I had to deal with it. As usual.”

There had been a note of deep disgust in his voice when he said the words “too-many sons.” She perfectly understood his feelings. “How many brothers do you actually have, my lord?”