Harvest of Rubies (29 page)

Well, there was no help for it. “My lord. I ask pardon, but I own no clothes that would be suitable for riding.”

“So take them from the storehouse. Your servant can surely make adjustments where needed.”

“Uh, we don’t have access to the storehouses, my lord.”

“What do you mean you don’t … Ah. Teispes?”

I nodded.

He strode to the door. “Come with me.” He motioned to me. “And you,” he added to Pari. He marched us to the storehouses and used his own key to let us in.

“Take everything you need.” He lingered with us for a few moments, rummaging through shelves. “Here are some clothes that would serve.” He handed them to Pari. I turned to leave, but he signaled me to remain and continued searching.

“Here they are.” He pulled several packages from a row of shelves at the far end of the room. “It’s too dark here to see. Come into my chamber and I will show you.”

Since the storehouses were closer to the location of his apartments, it made sense for us to meet there.

One of his men was stationed outside his door, ramrod straight and alert. Darius addressed him before walking in. “Arta, could you saddle Kidaris please? Take a good lamp and wait for me in the stables.”

“Right away, my lord.”

I wondered where Darius planned to ride as I followed him into his rooms. I had not been there since the first day Pari had coaxed me out of my dark cave of despair. I stood stiffly to one side, not going in very far. Entering into his personal domain made me uncomfortable. I felt that I was intruding into his private world. That I didn’t belong there.

With a careless motion, Darius dropped his packages upon a green sofa with silver lion’s feet. “Pari, let me see the riding gear.”

Pari handed Darius her bundle. Unfolding it, Darius pushed aside a sachet of mint, rosemary, and eucalyptus before unearthing a pair of clay-colored linen trousers, quilted at the seat and gathered on the side seams for easier movement. The top was made of two layers of sheer white linen, split on the sides. It was a feminine outfit, judging by its size and cut, and the
embroidery at the edges of the sleeves and the hem. “This was my mother’s. It might serve. You may try it through there.” He pointed to his bedchamber, which connected to his sitting room through an open archway.

I had never donned trousers in my life. I took the garments with uncertain fingers and signaled Pari to follow me. The trousers, which wrapped around my waist with a drawstring, fit well enough. But the tunic was tight around the chest, and too sheer.

“Let’s see you,” Darius called from the other room.

I made a few attempts at speech, none of which ended in discernible words.

“Well?” he prodded again.

“My lord, it’s not decent! I can’t come out.”

“Nonsense,” he called. “My mother used to wear those all the time.” To my horror he appeared at the door. I crossed my arms in a feeble attempt at modesty, and bit my lip to keep myself from yelling at him to get out.

“I see.” He pulled on an earlobe. “Perhaps there was more to it than I remember.” I threw him a dirty look.

He held up his hands as if in surrender. “I’m leaving. Pari, can you sort that tunic out for your mistress? There must be an under tunic somewhere back in the storehouse that I overlooked.” On his way out he said, “Sarah, would you please join me when you change?”

I had no desire to be within the same four walls as him after the embarrassment of being seen in diaphanous clothing, but what choice had I? Dressed in my own modest, full-skirted dress, I returned to him, my face flaming. To give him credit, he made no comment.

“I was thinking you could wear this for the opening feast of the equinox celebrations.” In his hands he was holding a
turquoise silk garment with golden embroidery at the edge of the sleeves and throughout the skirt.

I gasped. “It’s beautiful.”

“My mother set it aside for my bride. There’s a chest full of things in the storehouse.”

He said
bride
, singular, which confused me. I came to the conclusion that his mother must have set things apart for his
Jewish
wife. I didn’t feel worthy of the gift given that I was a poor sort of wife—one in name only.

“I’ll wear it if you wish, of course. But you can have it back afterward.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s exquisite. I … it isn’t right that you give it to me. You should save it for another.”

He sat on the couch and dangled his feet off the end. “You surprise me. In fact, it’s a habit with you. You rarely do or say what I expect.”

I flattened my back against the wall. “At least you’re not bored.”

“Irritated, frustrated, discombobulated, infuriated. But not bored. I’ll grant you that.”

Pari showed her good sense by arriving, which spared me from having to answer Darius’s extraordinary comment. She had a clay-colored undergarment folded over her arms. “I believe I have found the right garment, my lord.”

“Good. Would you please put the garments on again? And try these,” he added, throwing me a pair of soft leather shoes.

“But I just had them on!”

“Humor me.”

With ill grace I retired to his inner chamber and changed once again. The tunic was still tight, but I was now covered with a modicum of decency thanks to Pari’s fruitful search. “I
can loosen it before you leave tomorrow,” she assured me.

I pulled the shoes on as I walked back for Darius’s scrutiny and was happy to find they fit.

He nodded when he saw me. “Here, catch.” He threw a thin summer shawl my way. I draped it loosely over my head and shoulders, glad for the added coverage.

“Off to the stables we go.”

“The
stables?”

“Yes. Surely you’ve heard of them? It’s a place in which they keep horses—those things you don’t ride.”

I had barely slept in two days. A dear animal I had come to love as my own was gone. I faced a journey I dreaded. I had no patience for cryptic remarks. My voice was syrupy with sarcasm as I answered. “Such a fount of information you are. How
do
you bear being so clever all the time?” There was no hint of offense in his soft answering laughter, however.

At the stables we found his man, Arta, waiting next to a saddled chestnut mare. It seemed huge to me.

“Sarah, meet Kidaris. She’s one of my gentlest horses. But she also has the stamina to keep up with the rest of the horses. You’ll become very good friends over the next few days. Come close and greet her properly.”

No wonder he had insisted on my wearing riding clothes. He wanted me to meet my horse and grow comfortable with her before our early morning departure. And I thought he was baiting me to be annoying. I regretted my acerbic comment and tried to make up for it by being as biddable as I was able.

The horse gave a friendly neigh as I took a faltering step forward. Her pure chestnut coat was marked by a white spot high on her forehead. It looked like a royal tiara. Hence the name
Kidaris
, I realized, which meant
crown
in Persian. “Hello, Kidaris.”

“She likes being petted like this.”

I tried to mimic Darius. Unlike his sure, familiar movements, my touch was hesitant.

“No, don’t show her fear. She needs to know you’re in charge from the start. Be confident. Step closer. Let her grow accustomed to you.”

“She’s a lot bigger than I am.”

“Yes, and you’re still in charge.”

I’m in charge I’m in charge I’m in charge
. I kept repeating the words in my head, hoping to believe them. Darius handed me a brush and had me gently groom Kidaris. After some time I felt comfortable enough to enjoy being near the horse.

“Good,” Darius pronounced. “Now you must learn to sit properly. This is the most important part of riding. You must sit straight so that your weight is divided equally between the two sides of the horse. If your balance is wrong, you will throw her balance off as well, and she won’t like it.”

He helped me into the saddle and adjusted the stirrups. I could see why I needed the trousers and the split tunic. Darius coached me on my posture. “You’re slouching. And your legs are too far forward. You’ll lose control that way. Keep your seat using your thighs.”

For half the length of an hour he made me sit on Kidaris without moving, critiquing my every fidget. Then he spent another hour showing me the rudimentary lessons of riding. My back was burning by the end of our training. I wondered how I would manage to canter hour after hour, day after day. I felt small and physically unequal to the task.

Pari and I were up late into the night, adjusting the tunic and the turquoise dress Darius had given me. Pari was scheduled to follow in a cart with most of Darius’s and my luggage the following morning, accompanied by two of Darius’s men.
I hadn’t thought it wise to bring Pari with me; she was even more unfamiliar with horses than I was, and had told me she harbored a mortal fear of them. So I had arranged for her to travel with the luggage train; they would travel across the main royal highway, which was a longer but supremely more comfortable ride.

She helped me pack a small bundle of my most basic necessities for the days I would be in Ecbatana without her or my baggage.

“What shall I do without you for ten whole days?” I said as we retired to bed. “What if I make another wreck of things at the feast?”

“You will not. You have learned much in the past few months. Besides, I’m certain the queen will send you assistance. Only this time, don’t turn her away.”

I groaned and pulled the covers closer about me. It would be the last time I would have the luxury of a bed for some days. But I couldn’t enjoy it. I missed the weight of Caspian’s solid body resting at my feet.

I lay wakeful through the watches of the night, dreading the morning, certain I would become a nuisance to my husband, and that he would come to like me even less because of it. In my misery, I longed for the comfort of Caspian’s presence more than ever.

Finally I remembered to cling to the Lord and His mercy. Every time a fearful thought rushed against my mind, I turned my attention back on the Lord instead of chasing the trails of my disturbing imaginings. Rather than focusing on my fears, I focused on God. And in the end, I slipped into a peaceful sleep.

Darius was accompanied by seven of his men, the rest having been dispatched on various assignments, or directed to remain in his palace. I was the only woman in the train, and the only one who could not ride. He stayed close by my horse, his black stallion towering over my mare. To my surprise, Kidaris tried to bite the stallion.

Darius leaned close and pulled on my reins with a firm hand until Kidaris turned her head with docile obedience. “Keep your horse under control or mine will hurt you both,” he snapped. “Hold the reins as I showed you.”

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“Samson.”

Taken aback by the Jewish name I repeated, “Samson?”

“My mother named him. He was huge and strong even as a foal. I’ve never trimmed his mane in honor of his namesake.”

So his mother had taught him something of our history and faith. I had no time to process this brief revelation as he signaled us to start our journey. My whole concentration was spent on trying to cling to my horse.

We started our journey at a trot. I could sense that the men were impatient to canter as soon as the road stretched straight before us, but Darius kept the pace gentle for another hour. I realized that he was giving me time to grow accustomed to the movement of the horse. I was at once relieved and distressed by his thoughtfulness. I knew I was a bother to him and his men. That realization more than anything drove me to try to keep up, to push myself beyond my ability. I could not bear the thought that I caused others inconvenience, for I was convinced that they would turn from me. Had this not been a lesson I had learned well in childhood? Had I not proven a nuisance to my own father, who rejected me because of it?

I knew that if I proved useful in some way, I might be tolerated. Perhaps even valued. But deep down, I also knew that except for my linguistic and administrative talents, I had little to offer. I cost more than I was worth. And I wanted with all my might to hide this secret from others for as long as I could.