Lilah (16 page)

‘Sogdiam says that each time the reading is over, this Zachariah and his family crowd round Ezra, asking, “When will you lead us to Jerusalem? Why are we wasting our time here?” Ezra has constantly to explain to them that they can set out for Jerusalem without him. “The road is there,” he says. “You have only to take it!” He says that he isn't Nehemiah, that he can't go back to Jerusalem before his studies are over and without the agreement of the Citadel . . . But you know this.'

‘And what does Master Baruch say?' Lilah asked.

‘Ah, Master Baruch!' There was a gleam in Axatria's eyes. ‘Master Baruch doesn't say a word while Zachariah's family are talking to Ezra. But look!' She drew a small papyrus scroll from her tunic. ‘Just as I was about to leave, he asked me to arrange his bed. I'd already done it a little earlier, but you know Master Baruch's whims . . . While I was plumping the pillows, he slipped this into the sleeve of my tunic. Ezra was reading in his corner, and didn't see a thing. “Give this to Lilah,” Master Baruch whispered. “Only to Lilah.”'

Lilah had unrolled the papyrus while Axatria was speaking. A few lines were written on it, the letters so fine and the ink so pale that she had to go out into the daylight to decipher them.

‘What did he write?' Axatria asked impatiently.

She had to repeat her question twice before Lilah read her Master Baruch's words.

Axatria was disappointed. ‘That's not very helpful, is it?' she said. ‘He may be going off his head a little.
Sogdiam says he hardly ever gets out of bed. When he slipped me this scroll, his eyes were laughing, like a child's. That happens with the very old. They become like children again.'

Lilah did not reply.

What Master Baruch had not written, she could hear as clearly as if he were whispering in her ear.

This time it was not the third cupbearer who came to fetch Lilah, but a eunuch from Parysatis' guard. He had short hair and smooth cheeks, and wore a bearskin cloak and a large red turban.

Lilah was taken to the Queen wearing the same costume in which she'd left Mordechai's house. Over a tunic of yellow wool, drawn in at the waist by a blue belt, she had put on a big woollen veil woven with silver threads and embroidered with green and purple silk. Her hair was held in place by an ivory comb carved with five-pointed stars. Opalescent amber earrings hung from her ears, and she had wound a matching necklace twice round her throat.

She held herself erect as she walked, chin high, mouth full and firm. She was not only beautiful: one glance was enough to convince anyone of the strength of her will. Even the handmaids and eunuchs noticed it as they led her through the maze of corridors and halls.

She was not kept waiting long.

The Queen received her in a bedchamber as round as the inside of a tent. The walls and floor were covered with carpets and tapestries. In the middle of the room a fire was burning in a bronze hearth, the smoke passing out through the ceiling along a brass conduit.

Lying on a bed suspended from the beams and covered with animal skins, Parysatis was playing with some Egyptian kittens. They all had black fur and green eyes. She chuckled happily, tickling them and cursing whenever one of them scratched her wrist. Her thin white tunic, identical to the one Lilah had seen her wear during her previous visit, was spattered with tiny bloodstains. She did not seem to hear the announcement the eunuch made as Lilah walked in through the tapestry that served as a door.

Lilah advanced to within ten paces of Parysatis and bowed low, eyes closed.

When she straightened, Parysatis' eyes were on her. The Queen stared at her for what seemed an age, while the kittens, eager to play, sought her hands, clawed her tunic, scratched her thighs and stomach.

The handmaids and eunuchs moved about the room, stoking the fire and the perfume-burners, their steps muffled by the carpets. Then they vanished, all
except two eunuchs who stood guarding the door. Lilah did not dare to move, even though she was starting to feel numb.

Parysatis was still staring at her, untroubled by the kittens, which had now snuggled between her thighs. Her eyes were so fixed, the pupils so enlarged, that Lilah wondered if she had taken a potion.

Without warning, Parysatis threw the kittens across the room and turned away from Lilah onto her side.

She pulled a leopardskin round her shoulders. ‘Well,' she said flatly, ‘I knew you didn't lack nerve. But to address a request to me – Parysatis? That's something I've never had inflicted on me before!'

‘Thank you, my queen, for replying.'

‘Who said I'm replying, you conceited girl?'

Lilah lowered her eyes. Beads of sweat formed on the back of her neck.

‘No one asks anything of Parysatis.'

‘No, my queen.'

‘So why did you send me that tablet, fool? Are you so determined to make me angry?'

‘No, my queen.'

Confident and determined as she was, and bolstered by Master Baruch's words, fear gripped Lilah's chest like a vice. She had to take a deep breath.

The most foolhardy of the kittens was climbing towards Parysatis' hand. She caught it by the tail, and it mewed. ‘I'm waiting,' she muttered.

‘My queen, I thought you were the only person who could help me.'

Parysatis gave a cry, which turned into a laugh. ‘I? Help you? Are you mad? Why should I help you?'

The laugh ceased as suddenly as it had started. There was a silence.

Parysatis pressed the kitten between her breasts and stroked it. ‘Help you in what?'

‘My queen, my brother Ezra wants to ask the King of Kings for permission to take our people out of exile in Susa and Babylon and lead them to Jerusalem.'

With her index finger, Parysatis was forcing the kitten to open its mouth wide. It bit her. Parysatis chuckled, took it by the neck, and thrust it out of sight under the leopardskin, against her hip. She looked at Lilah, and raised an eyebrow.

‘Why? Aren't they happy here?'

‘Zion is the land marked out for our people by Yahweh, our God, my queen. Today Jerusalem, our city, is in ruins, for we are here instead of there. Chaos reigns there, decay is gathering pace. Nothing is respected, neither our laws nor those of our great king Artaxerxes. If the fall of Jerusalem is not good for us Jews, it is not good for the King of Kings
either. Soon the Greeks and the Egyptians will be able to seize the city. That would weaken all of the western borders.'

Parysatis' eyes had become sharper as Lilah spoke. ‘Politics! You appear before Parysatis, acting like a queen, and talk to her about politics! What business is it of yours? Such things are not for women – let alone girls like you.'

‘My queen, that is why I would like my brother Ezra to appear before the King of Kings.'

Parysatis groaned and shook her head. ‘So obstinate, and always ready with an answer. Why your brother and not someone else?'

‘Because he alone can do it, my queen. He and no one else.'

‘“He and no one else,”' Parysatis mocked, aping Lilah's voice. ‘And, of course, you're the one who decides that! A Jew from the lower town, wallowing in dirt and poverty, listening to the stale whining of an old man who ought to have died long ago! And he's supposed to be the leader of the Jews?' Parysatis' laugh was as sharp as a rattle.

Lilah shuddered. She felt as though thousands of needles were piercing her lower back.

‘Ah, you see! I surprise you. Parysatis knows more than you think. I know everything, Lilah, everything. Never forget that.'

A long silence followed. A distant look had
come into the Queen's eyes, as though she were thinking of something else. Lilah thought she could hear the kitten mewing beneath the leopardskin. The other kittens were playing soundlessly under the bed.

‘You ask,' Parysatis said abruptly, ‘but what are you offering in return?'

Lilah said nothing, and lowered her head.

‘This is what you offer,' Parysatis muttered. ‘Your brother leaves for Jerusalem, and you follow him.'

Lilah did not look up.

‘I want your answer, girl!' Parysatis cried.

‘Yes, my queen.'

‘You go to Jerusalem and forget Antinoes.'

On Lilah's back, the needles had become fangs. ‘Yes, my queen.'

‘Forget promises, forget marriage. Forget Antinoes between your thighs. Do you understand?'

‘Yes, my queen.'

Parysatis' cooing laugh burst out in the thick air, as sinuous as a snake. ‘That's what you came to tell me, isn't it? That you're afraid of me and you're begging me to let you go a long way away from your great love. Farewell, promise! But you're too proud to admit it. Not brave, really, just proud. A proud little girl who plays at being a lady, that's what you are. Now you may thank me.'

Lilah looked up, ashamed that she could not
prevent the tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘Thank you, my queen,' she murmured.

Parysatis smiled and screwed up her eyes. Her upper lip was curled over her small teeth, and the folds round her mouth had spread to her cheeks, making her look ten years older. She took her right hand out from beneath the leopardskin, still holding the kitten. She threw the little animal at Lilah's feet, where it rolled over and lay motionless. It was dead, its neck broken.

‘If you want Parysatis' advice, Lilah, make sure I forget you.'

Her eyes were wide open in the darkness of the bedchamber. Parysatis' words kept going through her head. The kitten's mews, its dead body, everything merged together, confused and terrifying.

What had the Queen said? What had she said herself? She could not remember. Was she to understand that Parysatis would help her, would talk to the King of Kings, advise him to send for Ezra? How could she know?

Had she humiliated herself in vain?

What had she agreed to?

Never to see Antinoes again.

Never to love Antinoes again. Never to kiss or caress him.

And perhaps she would get nothing in return.

Again and again the Queen's words, the whole scene, twisted through her thoughts, like an endlessly spinning top.

‘Lilah . . .'

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she did not hear the whisper.

‘Lilah!'

She made out a shadowy figure. She was no longer alone in the room.

‘Lilah . . .'

For a split second, she thought it was Antinoes, taking advantage of the darkness to join her in spite of Parysatis' spies.

But she could smell a woman's scent. At last she recognized the voice. ‘Axatria!'

‘Not so loud, there's no point in waking the whole house!'

‘What's happening? Why have you come up here without a lamp?'

Axatria was thrusting a shawl into her hands. Lilah resisted, ready to protest.

‘Sssh, don't make a noise . . . Sogdiam is downstairs.'

‘Sogdiam? What's he doing here?'

‘He'll tell you himself. Hurry up.'

Axatria was already pulling her towards the door and the shadowy corridors.

A few moments later, Lilah found Sogdiam in the
kitchen, huddled in front of the last embers in the hearth. In spite of the blanket Axatria had put round him, his teeth were chattering, his hands held tight round a cup of steaming herb tea.

He tried to stand when they came in, but his deformed legs were numb with cold and could hardly carry him. Lilah and Axatria rushed to stop him falling.

‘He's been wandering around the city since sunset,' Axatria said.

‘I had to hide before I came here.' Sogdiam pulled the blanket over his head. ‘If not, the guards would have caught me. No chance of passing unnoticed with my legs.'

‘Has something happened to Ezra?' Lilah asked.

‘No, no. Ezra's fine. I've come because of Master Baruch. He's not well.'

‘What's the matter?'

‘Let him drink his herb tea and get warm or he'll be ill,' Axatria said. ‘I'll go and find him a dry tunic. His own tunic is like a block of ice.'

‘At first,' Sogdiam said, regaining his strength, ‘I didn't notice anything. Master Baruch kept complimenting me on my cooking, and asking for a little more of this, a little more of that. And I was happy to give it. I thought, Master Baruch has a good appetite and really likes my dishes! I cooked him
fish, millet balls, barley biscuits filled with stuffed pigeons, olives and dates . . . All good food. When I started I didn't know the recipes, but I learned quickly. One recipe leads to another, then another . . . Master Baruch ate everything, left nothing. And if Ezra didn't like what I'd made or wasn't hungry, he'd eat Ezra's portion, too. Of course I thought it strange, but you know how Master Baruch is. He's the strangest character I've ever met. One day he's laughing, another day he doesn't open his mouth or his eyes. One day he's grumpy, the next day he talks all day. Four nights ago, I woke up and heard him moaning. This time, he was really ill. I waited for Ezra to call me to help him tend to him, boil him herbs, as you taught me. But they didn't ask for anything. Master Baruch didn't want it. I stayed there in the dark like an idiot, listening to them argue. “You're making yourself ill, Master,” Ezra was saying, “and I know why. You're flouting Yahweh's will.” “Don't boast, my boy,” Master Baruch answered, moaning. “You know nothing at all. Apart from your pride, you know nothing. I'm old, and the old die, that's all.” “You can't make yourself ill like this, Master,” Ezra said again. “The Law forbids it. Sogdiam will look after you.” To which Master Baruch retorted, “Go back to your studies, then. You're wasting time, Ezra. You shouldn't be here, losing sleep over an old man.
Only a fool would bother with such things!” Anyway . . . They argued like that for hours . . . In the morning, when I went to see Master Baruch, he was exhausted. To tell the truth, I thought he was dead. Ezra was quite shaken. He couldn't study. Zachariah and the others were out in the courtyard, as usual, but he sent them away. I made some herb tea for Master Baruch, but when I put the cup beside him, he refused to drink it. You'll never guess what he said.'