“Come out, come out,” Rachel called. “I’ll move these lamps. It’s too nice a day to be indoors.”
“Let me move those lamps for you.” Abraham hurried to the table and, as he took the lamps from the table to put on the ground, Esther went into the house for refreshments. When she came out again carrying a tray with cups of pomegranate juice and honey cakes, Rachel and Abraham were sitting at the table, waiting for her.
Esther served the refreshments, then sat down herself and took a long, thirsty drink of the juice. She put her cup on the table and smiled at her friends. “How nice of you to call on me.”
Abraham smiled back. “I should be at work with my father, but something happened that Rachel insisted she must share with you. So I brought her.”
Esther briefly lowered her eyes. Abraham was finding many reasons to come to her house these days. She said, “It is always nice to see you, Abraham.”
She turned to Rachel, who was clearly bursting to speak. “So, Rachel, what is your news?”
“The king has announced that he is going to hold a contest to find the most beautiful woman in the empire to be his wife.” Rachel managed to look both excited and disapproving at the same time. “Isn’t that disgusting?”
“A contest? What kind of contest?”
“He has sent out a proclamation to all the countries in the empire that they should send beautiful young virgins to the harem in Susa to be candidates for his hand. He said that the one who pleased him most would reign in place of Vashti.”
Esther pictured the capital city being inundated day after day with waves of beautiful young girls hoping for a chance to be queen. It was the maddest idea she had ever heard.
She said, “This king certainly has a strange way of dealing with women. He chooses them and gets rid of them as if they were horses.”
Abraham chuckled. “It does sound rather like a horse fair.” His arched black eyebrows rose a little higher. “I am sorry to have to inform you girls that the proclamation my father and I saw posted specified that only girls of the Achaemenid clan may apply for the position of queen.” He shook his head with mock sorrow. “Neither of you will be eligible.”
Esther laughed. “Oh, Abraham, you just broke my heart.”
He grinned back at her and she felt her cheeks grow a little warm. Abraham had a nice smile.
Rachel’s long-lashed eyes had been darting between her brother and her friend. She said, “Oh well, I suppose if you are a Persian woman and have to be shut up anyway, you might as well be queen and get shut up in a palace.”
Esther’s tender heart was touched. “That may be true. Poor things, what a life they are forced to lead.”
She and Rachel looked at each other in mutual recognition of their own superiority to the pitiful Persian women who had not been lucky enough to be born Jews.
Even though the Jewish women of Esther’s community condemned the Great King’s way of searching for a new queen, they were nevertheless extremely interested in the process. Within a month of the king’s proclamation, girls began to pour into Susa, hoping to be found beautiful enough to enter the Great King’s harem and compete to be queen. They came from Mesopotamia, making the easy journey by ship down the Tigris or the Euphrates; they came overland, from the courts of the satraps in Cappadocia and Lydia, Baktria and the Hindukush. And, of course, there were the girls from the Achaemenid aristocracy whose families lived right around the capital.
Mordecai, who worked in the finance office of the palace, obliged his niece and her friends by gathering as much information as he could about the seemingly endless stream of hopeful candidates. But Mordecai had more on his mind these days than the king’s potential marriage choice. The unrest between the Jews and the Edomites in their homeland of Palestine was increasing, and all the men of Mordecai’s community were worried that, should fighting break out, Ahasuerus might not side with the Jews.
Cyrus and Darius, the two Persian kings who had preceded Ahasuerus, had a history of supporting the Jews. Cyrus had even given his permission for the Jews to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem. But no one knew where Ahasuerus stood.
One Sabbath afternoon, after Esther and Mordecai had returned from the synagogue gathering in Rachel’s father’s house, Mordecai shared his concerns with his niece. The brutal summer heat had begun, so the two were sitting in the common room of their own house, which, like most of the houses in Susa, was protected from the merciless sun by a roof of palm covered over with three feet of earth.
As women were not allowed at the synagogue meeting itself, Mordecai told Esther about the discussion the men had held after their reading of the Torah. The conversation always changed when the women came in with the food, so Esther never knew what had been discussed by the men until she reached home, where her uncle had formed the habit of sharing everything with his niece.
Mordecai was a teacher by nature, and once he had discovered how quick Esther was, how curious and intelligent, he had made her his pupil. They had progressed from him reading the scriptures to her, to him teaching her to read them for herself.
Today, though, Mordecai was focused on political matters. Esther could see that he was deeply disturbed and she listened intently as he spoke.
“You know about the land the Edomites stole from us when we were driven into exile in Babylon,” he said.
“Yes, Uncle. You look worried. Has something happened?”
“Yes. I have learned from my friend Araxis, one of the palace scribes, that the Edomites have sent a letter to the Great King asking him to confirm their rights to southern Judah.”
“To
our
land?”
“Yes. Our land.” Mordecai pulled at his beard, something he always did when he was upset. “Then, to make matters worse, some mad prophet is going around Jerusalem trying to stir up our people to go to war to take it back.”
Now Esther understood why her uncle looked so concerned. “War in Palestine? That would not be a good thing for anybody!”
“It is the worst thing that could happen. Should war break out, and the king decide to send troops to pacify the region, we don’t know which side he will favor. Darius would have favored the Jews, but no one knows about Ahasuerus. If he should choose the Edomites, we could lose half our country!”
Esther slid forward on her stool, leaning toward Mordecai. “Do you think the king would send an army? Would he not let the two sides fight it out between themselves?”
Mordecai shook his head. “Palestine lies directly on the route into Egypt. No Persian king wants unrest in Palestine.” Mordecai slapped his hand against the arm of his chair in frustration. “This king is so hard to figure out, Esther. He went to war against Egypt when that country rebelled against Persian rule, and he put the rebellion down quickly and efficiently. But he is outraging the party at court that wants him to continue the war against the Greeks by refusing to do so.” He looked at her somberly. “I don’t know what he will do, and the not knowing makes me nervous.”
“Ahasuerus was supposed to be a good king in Babylon, wasn’t he?”
“He was a very good king. Darius sent him there when he was only eighteen years old, fully expecting him to fail. But he surprised everyone. The people in Babylon loved him. And he has brought back a contingent of his councilors from Babylon to whom he appears to listen. Darius’ people are furious because they are not the ones who have the king’s ear.”
Esther shook her head. “It all sounds complicated, Uncle. The Babylonian party, the Persian party, the Greek War party, the anti-Greek War party. It must be hard to keep it all clear in your head. But surely you must know someone in the palace whom you can approach to find out how the king stands on Palestine.”
“I don’t,” was Mordecai’s grim reply. “I work in the Treasury, chicken. I am too far removed from the political scene to be acquainted with anyone who might know the king’s mind.”
Esther let her eyes run around the simple room, with its ceiling supported by plain wooden columns and its whitewashed mudbrick walls. She had arranged some bright ceramic vases on a small wooden table to give the room color, and an old Persian rug added its faded tints as well.
As she regarded the parchment roll her uncle had brought home from work, she had a thought. “Why don’t we Jews imitate the Edomites and send our own letter to the king? They have written that they want their rights to our land confirmed, then we should write that the land is legally ours and it should be confirmed to us.”
Mordecai smiled. “My clever girl. That is exactly what we have decided to do.”
“You should make me part of your council, Uncle.”
Mordecai laughed, as she had intended. He stood up and stretched. “The sun has gone down. Perhaps we might find a breeze in the courtyard.”
Esther rose easily to her feet and followed her uncle outside.
Summer in Susa was not pleasant. The sun burned relentlessly over the plain upon which the city was situated, and no breeze arrived from the surrounding mountains. In the summertime, Susa baked.
The Great King had gone to his summer palace of Ecbatana, taking with him most of the court, so the issue of Palestine was set aside for the moment. Life in the Jewish community went on as usual, although most of the socializing took place in the evening, when the heat abated a trifle.
Abraham had continued to accompany his sister on her visits to Esther and, by August, she realized that he might want to marry her. This idea was strengthened when Rachel told her she was going to be betrothed to another of the young men in their congregation.
Esther was surprised and said so.
Rachel laughed. The girls were sitting in Rachel’s courtyard, which was much bigger than Mordecai’s. A few other community families were there as well, but Rachel had taken Esther aside to give her the good news.
“How can you be surprised?” Rachel gave Esther a quizzical look. “We’re both of the age to be married. We’ve spoken about it.”
Esther put her hand over Rachel’s as they sat side by side on a small wooden bench in the corner of the courtyard. “I know, I know. I suppose I kept thinking it was still in the future . . .”
“I thought Jacob would ask for me.” Rachel sounded pleased with herself. “He always talked to me at supper after synagogue.” She looked into Esther’s eyes. “Do you think he’s handsome?”
Jacob was not quite as tall as Esther, but then Rachel was small. And his ears were big. Esther looked back into her friend’s eager eyes and said, “He’s very handsome, Rachel. And nice too.”
Rachel beamed.
Abraham chose this moment to come into the courtyard from the house. Both girls looked at him, then Rachel said mischievously, “Perhaps you won’t be far behind me, Esther.”
Abraham was far more handsome than Jacob. But Esther felt herself shying away from the thought of marriage. Her life with her uncle was so comfortable, so safe. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to give it up.
Mordecai had evidently been thinking about marriage also, because as soon as they returned from Rachel’s he suggested that they go out into their own courtyard to cool off before they went to bed.
“I thought Rachel looked happy,” he remarked as they took the chairs best positioned to catch the tiny breeze.
“I think she is happy, Uncle Mordecai. She is looking forward to having a house and family of her own.”
“Are you looking forward to being married, chicken?”