A Reluctant Queen (9 page)

But Ahasuerus believed he could turn his enemies into his friends. True, he had done this in Babylon, but Persia was different. Persians cared nothing for reason and justice—Persian nobles cared only for power.

The horses had come into the courtyard and the two brothers moved toward the stairs. A young lieutenant moved to assist the king to mount, but Ahasuerus waved him off and mounted his huge Nisean stallion with easy grace.

After the king was in the saddle, everyone else mounted up. Soleil did not like the noise, leaping in the air and kicking out behind with his iron-shod feet. Ahasuerus laughed, patted the sleek shoulder, and the stallion quieted. Haman, watching, felt his heart cramp with worry.

The problem with you, my lord, is that you do not know how to hate. But I will watch out for you. That is why I am here: to see to your welfare. I will always protect you. Always
.

When Haman finally returned to the palace, he found the king’s Grand Vizier waiting in Haman’s office. The fact that Haman, who bore the ceremonial title of Ahasuerus’ Bowbearer, even had an office had infuriated the Persians at court to no end. Grand Vizier Smerdis, who should be the second most powerful man in the empire, must be furious at being forced to present himself to someone he considered a Babylonian underling.

Ahasuerus had tried to placate his father’s men when he came to the throne by letting them keep their old titles. But because he did not trust them, he listened to the men who had come with him from Babylon. Smerdis knew that Haman had the king’s ear, and it irked him unbearably to be forced to come to this outsider. Haman, in his turn, disliked and distrusted the Persian office holders as much as they disliked and distrusted him.

Haman allowed himself a small, triumphant smile as he said with elaborate courtesy, “How may I help you, Grand Vizier?” and seated himself behind his desk.

Smerdis flushed a dark red and snapped out his words. “I am here about the work at Persepolis. The building of the new palace cannot go forward without the king’s approval and the best building season is now approaching.”

Ahasuerus had discussed this subject thoroughly with Haman, so he had his answer prepared. “I am afraid, Grand Vizier, that the Great King is not interested in spending money on yet another palace. He has told me that the palaces at Susa and Ecbatana are sufficient for his needs. What interests the king is land improvement. He feels that the country needs more irrigation projects so we can open up more land for growing. This means we must construct more underwater channels. That is where he wishes his money to go, not to the building of yet another palace.”

“Darius was completely committed to building the palace at Persepolis,” Smerdis said, his jaw clenched with anger. “It will be the greatest achievement of Persian architecture in the world. The palace here in Susa is built in the Babylonian style, and the palace in Ecbatana is Median. Persepolis will be purely Persian—a great monument for future generations to marvel over.”

Haman smoothed a piece of paper on the desk in front of him. “May I point out to you, Grand Vizier, that Darius is no longer the king?”

Silence from Smerdis.

Haman said, “The king undertook many successful irrigation projects in Babylon, which I was happy to assist him with. I have asked the Chief Engineer for a report on the areas in Persia that will most benefit from such projects. If you are interested, you may join me at that meeting, Grand Vizier. I believe the king will be present as well.”

“Watch your tone when you speak to me, you despicable Babylonian.” Smerdis’ face was almost as red as his robe.

Haman’s head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes. “I am not a Babylonian, I am a Palestinian.”

“A Palestinian,” Smerdis repeated in the tone of voice in which he might have said
a rat
. “And no doubt one of the places you think will benefit most from an irrigation project is that desert you call home?”

Haman was so angry he was trembling. He stood, signifying the meeting was over. “I believe we have said enough to each other, Grand Vizier. I will tell the king about your recommendations in regard to Persepolis.”

Smerdis leaned toward him, almost spitting his words. “I will tell him myself, you conceited Palestinian.” And he stalked out of the room.

It took Haman awhile before he could collect himself. All his life he had faced this arrogant dismissal of his nation and his person. Only Ahasuerus had seen Haman the man for who he was and had chosen him to be a confidant. He was a friend of the king. He must remember that and not allow himself to be tormented by these lesser beings.

Haman smoothed out the report that was on his desk and began to read.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

W
ith the coming of spring, the harem women spent more of their time in the garden. The walled-in expanse of pools, flowers, trees, birds, and greenery was one of the loveliest spots in all of Susa. Darius had had rare trees and flowering shrubs brought from all over Asia to create it, and it provided the harem inhabitants with their only chance to be outdoors.

After their conversation, Muran had given Esther a large apartment and assigned Hathach to be her personal guard and Luara to be her personal maid. The remaining girls resented this preferential treatment, but since Esther had never been a favorite, she scarcely noticed any change in their attitudes.

She was walking in the garden with Luara one morning when they saw Hathach hurrying along the paths toward them. She and Luara stopped and waited.

“I have just come from Muran, and I bear important news, Mistress. You are to see the king this afternoon!”

Esther’s hand went to her heart. “That can’t be so, Hathach. The king is to see Alenda today, not me. Muran must have mixed us up.”

“No, Mistress, there is no mix up. Alenda was sick all night and is in no condition to see the king. Muran has decided to send you in her place.”

“Me?” Esther stared at the young man whom she had grown to depend upon. “I am not the next girl in line, Hathach.” The order in which the girls were to be presented was based upon how long they had been in the harem. Esther was further down the list.

“I know, Mistress, but Muran wants you to go. You are to come directly to the robing room to be dressed and made ready.”

Esther didn’t reply, instead stood still, trying to take in what this news might mean for her.
Today
, she thought. Today this whole wretched masquerade would come to an end. The months of special tutelage by Muran and Hegai had made her more certain than ever that she was completely unsuitable for the position of queen. A few days from now . . . by then she might even be sleeping at home.

“Good,” she said emphatically. “Let us go.”

Esther and Hathach walked together down the unusually silent harem corridors. She had spent much time with Hathach these last few months and, aside from Luara, he was the only friend she had.

Until Esther had come to live in this place, she had known next to nothing about the eunuchs Persians used to guard the chastity of their women. Whenever she had heard them spoken about, which was rarely, it seemed as if there was something degenerate about them. Even Mordecai, who was usually so charitable, had not been able to hide his contempt for these abnormal creatures.

But these last few months Esther had learned that boys were made eunuchs just as girls were made slaves and concubines: Their parents sold them or gave them away to win favors from Persian officials. Both girls and boys were thrust into harems, and the boys were castrated so they would never be sexual threats to any of the women.

Most of the palace eunuchs were flabby around the waist and their voices were higher pitched than a man’s. But Hathach was different. He fought his fate. His speech was slow and careful, so that he would not be betrayed into the high notes that he so obviously hated and feared. His diet was abstemious, and Luara had told Esther that he exercised fanatically.

Esther looked now at the tall, golden-skinned young man walking beside her and her heart filled with pain for him. She was going to leave this place, but Hathach was trapped for life, trapped not only by the harem but also by the mutilation that had been done to his body.

Hathach took her to eat a light meal of fruit and bread and then he brought her to the robing room where Muran, Luara, and a collection of girls awaited her. Esther sighed as she saw the eager expression on the Mistress’s face. This ordeal was going to take many hours.

It was half an hour before the scheduled appointment when Muran pronounced herself satisfied with Esther’s appearance. She stood, surveying her work, then turned Esther so she could look in the mirror. “You are perfect,” Muran declared.

Esther obediently looked at the picture reflected back to her in the polished bronze. It had taken Luara three hours to weave pearls into many of the individual strands of her shining hair, which fell in a radiant glory to her waist. Her eyes were outlined in kohl and her eyebrows formed two perfect arches to frame them. Her immaculate nails were delicately tinted and her orange-blossom robe hung from her golden belt in perfect folds.

“You don’t look like the same girl who came to me, that is for certain,” Muran said with satisfaction.

“That is so, Mistress,” Esther said politely.

For what seemed the hundredth time, Muran went over the procedure that Esther was to follow during the presentation. “The king will speak to you in the privacy of his own courtyard. You will be left alone with him, but Hegai will be nearby to escort you back to the harem whenever the king chooses to end the interview. It will last for half an hour. Ahasuerus has given all the girls that courtesy.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Esther said.

“He has dispensed with much of the court ceremony for these interviews, but, of course, you must make the prostration.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Wine will be served. You must pour it for him.”

Esther had spent more hours than she believed possible learning the Persian way of pouring wine. “Yes, Mistress. I know how to pour the wine.”

“And remember to smile, Esther. Your smile is your greatest beauty.”

Esther would be sure to look as solemn as possible.

It was only when Hegai arrived to escort her to the rose garden where she would meet the king that Esther felt the first stab of nerves.

What if he should choose me?

This was a thought Esther had studiously avoided, but the uncertainty was suddenly frightening. She had to be careful. She could not do anything that would disgust him or betray that she was anything but what she seemed: an Achaemenid girl from the lesser nobility who was hoping to be chosen as the Great King’s wife. But she did not want to do anything that might make him like her either.

It will never happen. Never. He has seen scores of girls prettier than I. He will never choose me
.

But her heart was thudding as she followed Hegai through the door that led from the harem into the palace and thence to a walled outdoor courtyard that opened off the royal apartments. There was a white marble fountain in the middle of the court, and rose vines grew all along the high brick walls. In a few weeks they would be in flower. Esther had a small rose bush in her own garden, and she prayed she would be home in time to see it bloom.

Hegai said, “The king rode out this morning and may be detained. We were told to await him here.”