by Marek Halter
At this pace, the first snow had fallen before the King’s answer had arrived, and everyone was on edge. More than anything, Antinoes feared Parysatis’ spies. Realizing that their embraces were no longer enough to cheer them, Lilah decided it would be more sensible if they stayed away from each other until they knew the King’s decision. Antinoes would also avoid Mordechai’s house.
‘It seems Parysatis has already succeeded in separating us,’ Antinoes sighed as they said goodbye.
‘Never!’ Lilah said, kissing his lips one last time. ‘She’ll never separate us. Besides, you’re nearer to me now than when you go off to war …’
Days passed, and still there was no news.
Ezra, whose resolve had been weakened for a time by Lilah’s conviction, and to an extent by Master Baruch’s words, was the first to mock. ‘So, the Everlasting doesn’t seem to be taking any notice of my sister’s opinions,’ he said sarcastically, as Lilah and Axatria came in, bearing their basket of fruit and barley. ‘Artaxerxes hasn’t sent for me. He has his god Ahura Mazda who, supposedly, supports him in everything. Why should he care about the Jews, or Jerusalem, or the Law of Moses? I was right not to listen to your daydreams, Sister. My studies with Master Baruch are sure to bring me closer to the will of Yahweh than your imagination.’
‘You’re not very patient,’ Lilah replied, dismissing his jibes. ‘Not very patient, not very trusting, and not very provident. You should be taking advantage of this time to gather those who will go with you. You should be telling people about your hopes for Jerusalem.’
‘My hopes for Jerusalem?’ He shook with laughter. ‘Lilah, those who wish to go with me may sit in this courtyard for as long as they like, provided they respect my studies. Then their journey, like mine, will lead them to the Word of Yahweh and the Scriptures of Moses.’
Lilah had expected Master Baruch to support her, but the old man refused to intervene on one side or the other. He seemed to huddle behind his beard, overcome by age and fatigue, unable now to surprise or infuriate others with well-chosen words.
But when Lilah bent down to bid him goodbye, he took her face between his soft old palms and gave a big smile that made his eyes sparkle as if he were laughing. He said nothing, but held Lilah’s face, as if he were freeing it from the weight of the earth.
She realized that he was encouraging her, and her anxieties slipped away.
When she next saw Ezra, he mocked her again, so harshly that she thought she detected a touch of jealousy. She decided not to go back to the lower town until she could take the King of Kings’ answer with her.
Axatria was horrified. ‘What if it doesn’t come? What if there is no answer? What if—’
‘There’s no “what if”, Axatria. There’ll be an answer, and it’ll be the one we’re expecting. Ezra will appear before Artaxerxes.’
Axatria looked at her as if she had lost her reason.
The month of Tevet arrived and cold struck the Susa region. For three days, the sky was hazy with snow. Big flakes covered Mordechai’s house, wrapping it in silence. Lilah seemed as cold and white as the snow, as if the wait were draining her of blood.
Slowly and silently dawn was breaking. The weavers and Mordechai’s men were not yet at work. Lilah gazed out at the daylight, as she did each morning, trying to summon the strength to keep her impatience in check. Sarah’s voice made her jump more than the hand on the back of her neck.
Before she could speak, her aunt hugged her. ‘I had to be close to you for a moment. I’ve thought it over. You’re right about Ezra – I told Mordechai: Lilah’s right. I don’t know if it’ll happen, if the King will give him an audience and he’ll set off for Jerusalem. We’ll see. But you’re right. Ezra is Ezra. Yahweh’s hand is upon him. It’s been obvious for a long time.’
They embraced with a laugh that sounded more like a moan.
‘You aren’t getting much sleep,’ Sarah said gently, stroking her niece’s cheek.
‘No one has been getting much sleep lately,’ Lilah replied. ‘Neither you nor Uncle Mordechai. Oh, my poor aunt, Ezra and I have given you more worry than pleasure.’
Sarah held her a little tighter. ‘Dreams, that’s what you’ve given me, Lilah – dreams. And I haven’t always been very clever.’ She laughed again. This time, it was like a sob. ‘Sarah – that’s the right name for me. Sarah of the barren womb. Just like Abraham’s Sarah. Except that the angels of the Everlasting won’t be paying me a visit when I’m really old …’
‘Aunt!’
Sarah placed her fingers on Lilah’s mouth to silence her. Her eyes were shining feverishly, and her low voice was made hoarse by the harshness of the words that came from her lips. ‘You can’t imagine the shame! The shame of not having given Mordechai a child. The shame of being so happy when you and Ezra arrived in this house. It was terrible. Your father and mother had just died and because of that I was finally able to live like a woman. Children in my house! Oh, you can’t imagine! Mordechai was transformed, too. I became a real mother – in my own eyes, at least. You always call me Aunt, but for so long I wanted to hear you call me Mother. Then you grew up, and another dream came true. You became a woman, a beautiful woman, the lover of a handsome man. One day your belly would swell as mine never would. I used to wake at night thinking I heard your sons and daughters crying. Yes, that was my greatest wish, to have grandchildren running and yelling in this house, to forget about the carpets, the weaving, the customers. For years I dreamed that Lilah’s children would soon throw themselves into my arms. If I hadn’t been a mother, I would at least be a grandmother.’
She fell silent, her whole body trembling. Lilah remained motionless, with a lump in her throat. Sarah took a deep breath, and her lips curved in an ironic smile. ‘Sometimes I dreamed of the children Ezra might have … but that didn’t last, I must admit.’
Lilah smiled, too. At last, tears welled in Sarah’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks, and she said, very quickly, in one breath, as if fearing she would not be able to finish everything she had to say, ‘Now I know I shan’t see children running in this house or be woken by their cries. To the end of my days, I’ll be Sarah of the barren womb. Do you understand?’
‘Aunt …’ Lilah murmured.
Sarah shook her head, stubbornly and bravely. ‘No, don’t say anything. There’s no need. I know. That terrible mad Queen will never allow you to marry Antinoes. And I know you. You won’t yield either. If you can’t marry him, you won’t marry anyone else. You won’t be anyone else’s lover. You’ll be like me: a woman with a barren womb.’
Sarah was looking her niece straight in the eyes. In her voice, there had been perhaps a faint tinge of hope that she might be contradicted, but Lilah could not find anything to say in reply and lowered her eyes.
Sarah nodded. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she whispered. ‘But you may change your mind later. We never know what the Everlasting expects of us. And you’re so young – little more than a child.’
A door slammed in the courtyard, then silence returned. They separated, as if their bodies were suddenly turned in again on their sadness.
‘Perhaps you could …’ Sarah hesitated. What she had to say was difficult, and she no longer dared look at Lilah. ‘I know that you take herbs,’ she murmured, ‘when you see Antinoes. You could be pregnant, then he’d have to—’
‘But to what end?’ Lilah interrupted, without raising her voice. ‘To have a child and give it a life of shame? Antinoes could never make it his son or daughter without the wrath of Parysatis falling on the child. She wouldn’t rest until she’d destroyed it.’
Sarah frowned, and said nothing. They were both silent.
There was more noise in the house now. Mordechai’s voice rang out, then those of the handmaids in reply. Soon they would hear the clatter of the looms.
‘It’s so cruel,’ Sarah muttered. ‘If there’s anyone who doesn’t deserve this, it’s you.’
‘No one deserves to suffer Parysatis’ madn
ess.’
Sarah turned abruptly and gripped Lilah’s hands. ‘What I’d like to know is whether or not you’re going to follow him.’ Her eyes were intense, her mouth harder, as if she were getting ready to receive a blow. ‘If you also leave for Jerusalem, Mordechai and I will be alone again. He’ll never leave Susa.’
Lilah shook her head. ‘Oh, Aunt Sarah, I don’t know – I don’t know.’
A few mornings later, Axatria returned from the lower town, her cheeks red. Alone, as before, she had taken clean clothes and food to Ezra and Master Baruch. She had found Sogdiam in a state of great excitement. For the past few days, Zachariah and some twenty members of his family, brothers, uncles and nephews, had been coming to listen to Ezra reading from the great scroll of the Law of Moses.
‘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.
My dove. Be strong. Ezra loses his temper, but he listens to you as carefully as he listens to Yahweh. The hand of Yahweh is upon you. Have no doubts. Think of the sea that Yahweh opened before Moses. Have no fear, my dove. Go to the most powerful, make yourself heard, and all will be well.
‘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 alo
ne 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.
