One Night With the King: A Special Movie Edition of the Bestselling Novel, Hadassah by Tommy Tenney;Mark Andrew Olsen
Page 14
It is not about you. It is about the King. Focus on him.
And I resolved, in the months ahead, to do just that.
It must have been a jarring sight for those accustomed to crossing the Palace grounds every day: a crowd of nearly one hundred beautiful young women moving across the terrace, chattering and calling to one another like an oversize flock of geese.
Hegai wore a grim expression and seemed not to notice the clamor behind him as he led us toward a cluster of Palace outbuildings. The loud procession traced its path beneath the shadows of the Inner Court, circled its massive bulk, then left it behind and after nearly half a mile of seemingly aimless wandering, came to a broad, low-slung building ringed by soldiers. We stopped before a pair of solid-brass doors crossed by half a dozen bars and locks. Two soldiers at sentry stepped forward and demanded Hegai's orders, which he promptly held out for their perusal. One of them read the tablet carefully, then nodded approval to his companion. The men turned back and spent several minutes sliding aside the bars and twisting the locks. Then they leaned into the doors and slowly pushed them open.
At once, the group fell silent.
The open doorway revealed a vast hall shrouded in near darkness-its shadow seeming to yawn heavenward and engulf us with the suddenness of a storm cloud passing over the sun. One guard lit a torch and gave it to Hegai, who carried it into the gloom. And then, like a spark thrown into a gas pit, the room filled with light.
It took us only a second to see the reason. As far as the torch's glow could reach blazed a glory of reflected gold. I almost put my hands over my eyes-so brightly gleamed the room before me. I squinted, allowed my eyes to focus and still could not find a single object on which to comfortably settle my gaze. The radiance was too stunning to absorb.
The nearest objects to present themselves clearly were glittering tiaras in a row. Behind them stretched a near-forest of hanging strands of necklaces, jewels and trinkets. A commotion immediately began when three girls converged upon the display, clawing at the baubles and one another in a cacophony of shrieks and insults.
“Stop!” Hegai yelled at the top of his lungs-the first time I had ever heard him raise his voice. “This is one of the kingdom's most important rooms, and you will treat it as such!”
Chastened, the three girls turned around with their arms slack at their sides.
“This is the bounty room,” Hegai continued, his tone stern, “where the Crown stores the plunder of three dozen countries until it is needed for royal use. What you see before you includes the fortune of Babylon, gold from the pharaohs, the wealth of Phoenicia and countries you've never even heard of. Today, they all lay at your disposal. What you choose to wear, subject only to the dictates of good taste and beauty, will be yours for the keeping. All you can wear out of this chamber is yours.”
Then the previous roar of female delight erupted again, and I watched the group break up into countless shrieking, grabbing figures. Several more torches were brought in to illuminate the room's endless reaches as the girls burrowed their way through the rows of piled-up gold jewelry, their voices echoing shrilly across the metal stacks.
I was the last girl to reach the rows. Not only did the girls' behavior disgust me, but I felt at a loss the moment my gaze fell upon the stolen riches of so many conquered nations-no doubt including my own. I walked through the aisles and let my eyes drift across the staggering array of wealth; unlike the others, I felt empty and aimless. From the sounds of gaiety around me, the candidates were finding plenty of trinkets and jewelry, but I saw only gaudy relics. How in the world did they know what to choose? How did they have the least idea what would appeal to Xerxes?
I heard steps behind me and turned to Hegai, who was standing close with a concerned look. “Is everything all right, Star?” he asked.
“Oh certainly, Hegai. I'm just a little overwhelmed, is all.”
“I'm watching you, and awe is not what I see in your eyes. Please. Tell me. You haven't selected a single thing. If you do not hurry, all the best pieces will be gone. Despite the amount of spoils here, only a finite number are actually wearable by a young woman.”
I took a deep breath and decided to tell him the truth. “Hegai, my problem is this-I can pick out a hundred objects that might have some appeal to me, but what does the King like? What does he prefer? I won't feel capable of truly pleasing him on that night until I know more about him.”
Hegai did not answer. He simply stood there unmoving, the faintest hint of a smile upon his lips, his head shaking slightly. I was becoming concerned, thinking I had violated some unknown protocol. Why does he not reply, I asked myself frantically. Finally I spoke up.
“Master Hegai, did I offend you in some way?”
At my words he shook his head more vigorously and began to laugh. “No, no, Star. Far from it. You see, this is the first time a girl, or anyone in the harem for that matter, has ever asked me that simple question. Can you believe it?”
“No. It seems like the first question one would ask.”
“Indeed it does, my dear. However, this place does not lend itself to focusing on others, as I'm sure you have noticed by now.”
“Well, will you teach me? Or at least give me some idea? I really want to know.”
“Yes, Star. I will teach you. And I'll do more than that. You've just solidified your position as my favored candidate. Prepare to move out of your present quarters. I am giving you the double suite and seven handmaidens to serve you, as befits the leading candidate. Your conduct will serve as an example for the other girls, and I will repeatedly exhort them to follow your lead. I'm sure you are equal to the task, are you not, Star?”
Now came my turn to stand and dumbly nod my head yes. I had anticipated being answered with a few sentences of instruction, nothing more. A rumor had circulated at lunch that one of the girls could be chosen as a favorite over time. I had not given it further thought.
But Hegai was not finished. He abruptly grasped my hand and pulled me back into the stacks of jewelry. “I know just the piece for you, dear Star.” For a moment, hearing his voice like that, I flashed back to Rachel sifting through her bag of disguises for my first stolen trip out of the house. My eyes misted over at the thought-until Hegai's own rummaging brought me back to the present. He stood up with a triumphant look. “Aha!” He reached over and placed a small metal object on my palm.
“Don't look at it until we leave,” he said with a conspirator's smile.
And I did not. I kept my fingers tightly wrapped around the piece until the treasure hunt had ended and I had filed out of the building with the other girls. Nearly a dozen of my peers, seemingly every inch of their bare skin encircled by bracelets and hung with jewels, turned to me with perplexed looks. “Why, Star, you didn't get anything!” one of them nearly yelled at me. “Are you stupid?”
I only smiled, and then, when we had left the building's shadow, I allowed my clenched hand to open.
I gasped.
My hand had seemed to report a familiar shape, but I had not dared to believe it. Yet there it was-a Shield of David, six-pointed star, with a precious stone shining from its center.
It was a near replica of the one given me by my father-my one link to the past which I had been compelled to tearfully leave behind on the morning of my departure for the Palace.
I could almost feel G-d standing just behind me, a smile playing upon His face as He rejoiced at the chance to allow me this unexpected gift. As I had so often recently, I wept silently, grateful for the rich sensation of His presence. Quietly, I averted my face from the others and whispered a humble prayer of thanks.
nd so after just a few dozen nights in my original simple but elegant room, I moved into a luxury suite featuring its own sitting area with a goose-down divan and three deep chairs, a separate bedroom and its own expansive bathroom. Now I truly felt like I was living in a palace. The beauty treatments would now come to me. Instead of waiting in line by the pool, I would lie on my bed and wait for the mas
seuses to tiptoe in and begun their work.
No, I cannot claim to have been mistreated, that is the honest truth.
My life in the harem house rapidly settled into a very predictable although incredibly pampered routine. I would wake before dawn, change into loose clothing and walk out into the courtyard for some early morning stretching exercises. The excursions also served, of course, as my occasion to meet Mordecai on his way to work at the King's Gate. I would hug him tightly through the gate, my affection for him having only grown deeper with time away from his home, and bring him up-to-date on harem gossip. This, of course, had far less value for him than his Palace gossip held for me. Mordecai seemed to know everything about the endless hierarchies and political game playing behind these marble walls.
In those days Xerxes, who had barely escaped with his life during earlier Grecian Wars with his father, was obsessed with his longplanned counterattack against Athens. More than anything, he wanted to go down in history as the man who conquered Greece. As a result, the Palace was filled with talk of war-was the King's authority stable enough to risk years away in battle? Who would emerge as his key general? And who would serve as High Regent during his absence?
Echoes of these great rivalries reverberated only dimly at the harem; we heard of them and realized their importance yet heard very little of their latest developments. Because much of the time the information Mordecai possessed was even more current than Hegai's, I gained an extra edge-yet another reason why other girls came to speak with me.
I gradually allowed myself to linger longer at the gate with Mordecai. I had little cause to spend much time at the breakfast table. Long after he had left for work I would remain outside and stretch, then find a secluded spot in which to pray. What had once been a ceremonial function-a series of loudly spoken pronouncements, a ritual Mordecai performed in private, one that I had once assumed to be a mumbled series of incantations-had now become an intimate means of communication with a divine presence who now felt closer to me than my own self. I found that I could not pray loudly or formally; I simply conversed with G-d.
Even as my time of private prayer ended each day and I took the morning's myrrh bath, I asked G-d to show me ways of following Him. After drying off, while the masseuse's hands kneaded the fragrant myrrh oil into my back for an hour, I continued silently speaking to Him.
The first time I rose from my hour's massage, my body redolent with myrrh-and realized I would be receiving a similar treatment that afternoon and every afternoon after that for the next six months-I felt like the historic Queen of Sheba Mordecai had taught me about. I could not help but take pleasure in the experience, but ever before me was the destination-one night with the King.
And Hegai, for his part, stayed true to his pledge-he began to periodically, tidbit by tidbit, educate me regarding the King's preferences. Sometimes it would be a hurriedly whispered phrase as he rushed past me at poolside: “He likes women lean; stay true to your diet!” or “When it comes to clothing, simplicity is better; that is for certain.” Then, twice in the first six weeks, he appeared at my door and spent several hours discussing the King's personality. It seemed like almost a welcome outlet for him-a place to express his opinions on countless royal subjects with little fear of reprisal.
Xerxes, by Hegai's account, was surprisingly insecure for being the ruler of all the civilized world. As a result, he could be given to wild whims and erratic behavior depending on who was influencing him at the moment. Paranoid about being assassinated, he was constantly on the watch for signs of loyalty or treachery. Either one could bring wildly varying reactions.
As for matters of the bedroom, Hegai knew far less, yet more than anyone else. Xerxes was an adventurous lover, I was toldassuming he truly fancied the girl. He had spent his youth with captured beauties from Alexandria, Damascus and Cush and had found that a woman in fear for her life made for a vivacious and compliant partner. This knowledge tended to make him act gruff and intimidating.
“The governing paradox of sexual love,” Hegai told me, “is that the quickest way to ruin your own pleasure is making it your first priority. Center your attentions on your partner's bliss, and your own will find expression along with it.”
I smiled warmly at advice like this, for it conformed so well with my overall philosophy toward the King. Focus on him. Focus on him. It had been our elderly friend Jacob's refrain, and now it would be mine.
“Be willing to try anything, but remember that your artless virginity is also part of capturing His Majesty's interest. You must be both maiden and harlot as the moment calls for,” Hegai told me on another occasion.
I agonized before G-d about the morality of the whole encounter. Could I be considered married to Xerxes at the occasion of my deflowering? Regarding this dilemma I received no clear word, no definitive response from on high. But over time, I became convinced in my spirit that I was doing my very best, that I was here for a good reason. A reason that would reveal itself over time.
And Mordecai confirmed this in his hurried and whispered conferences with me each morning. He quoted passages from the Song of Solomon to guide my thinking and preparation.
As for my seven maids, I resolved to treat them like younger sisters, like the female companions I had never had. I shared bits of news and Palace conjecture with them and elicited their stories one by one during late-night discussions in my suite. I assured them that if they had not already been in royal service, all of them would have made superb Queen candidates-I am not certain they all believed me, but I think they appreciated the sentiment.
Afternoons were long, languid stretches at the harem. Many girls spent time in the sun by the pool, adding a deep suntan to their diminishing list of physical attributes, since Hegai had explained that the King preferred fair-skinned women. Others caught up on any beauty treatments that they had happened to miss during the morning hours.
I spent much of my afternoon time engaging in a clandestine activity: reading books from the royal library. Since, as you know, Persian women are not supposed to know how to read, I had my handmaidens discreetly bring various scrolls and parchments on the pretext of a mission for Hegai. Then they would deliver them to me out in the thickest part of the garden, across from the eunuchs' house. There I would curl up on a thick mat of fallen banana leaves and devour works of history and philosophy.
Or at least pretend to.
What I was really doing there, besides doing a bit of perfunctory brush-up work on my reading skills, was watching for an opportunity to make contact with Jesse.
I had first inquired about him on my third day there and learned that all eunuchs would convalesce for a week before beginning their training and would not join us for another few months.
That was far too long. I cared about Jesse, although the chaos of my capture and subsequent adapting to my new environment had largely crowded him from my mind. Our kiss on the gryphon statue had taken place a relatively brief time before, yet it now seemed like it had happened in another lifetime, to another person. Now that I had given myself time to reflect, I remembered how things had changed so dramatically between us in those days just before his capture. For years he had merely been the annoying young boy who tagged along with his grandmother. While entertaining to a lonely, isolated girl, he had been little more than a pest with dubious hygiene. Then he had become a friend. And puberty had added yet a new dimension.
I had noticed even before the kiss how Jesse was growing into a lanky, handsome young man. But the kiss seemed to have released something within me. I felt like I had been suddenly introduced to a whole new crop of emotions. My future as a woman, once a barren and worrisome set of images in my mind, now began to include brief, tentative scenes of being Jesse's wife. I had discovered, much to my surprise, that the scenarios did not displease me.
Thinking of it there in the orchard, I shook my head in disbelief. How drastically things had changed! Now I was promisedif not in marriage then at least in body to the King
of Persia, a flamboyantly jealous ruler. And Jesse was now sadly shorn of much that had once made him a man and a husband-to-be. Yet I cared for him deeply nevertheless, and I determined that I could not allow us to exist so close to each other without making at least an attempt to see him.
ne afternoon in the orchard I rolled up my parchment, set it down on the leaves and began to weave my way through tree trunks to the edge of the old unused gate I had discovered during my first day's explorations. I had heard voices earlier, and sure enough, some of the young men were playing a game of catch with some sort of inflated animal bladder. They wore only swatches of linen tied around their waists; their bodies resembled those of every other lean, muscular young boy I had ever spied from my old rooftop. I stopped and stared for a moment and found myself surprisingly taken with what I saw. For the moment, their grim fates were forgotten-they leaped, ran and wrestled one another with all the fervor and impetuousness of typical male youth. They were beautiful; I had to admit it. The loss of their manhood had not yet made its effect known upon their bodies.
Jesse, once again, was not among them.
Finally the game broke up and most of the young men dispersed, leaving only an exhausted pair languishing upon the marble terrace. I stepped out just enough for them to see part of me, then lifted my fingers to my lips indicating quiet.