One Night With the King: A Special Movie Edition of the Bestselling Novel, Hadassah by Tommy Tenney;Mark Andrew Olsen

by Tommy Tenney;Mark Andrew Olsen

  “I have simply never heard this before,” Xerxes insisted.

  “As I said, your Majesty, they specialize in covering their shrewd designs. It is one of their greatest strengths-their ability to completely mask their evil.”

  “Haman, all my life I have known them as a weakened people. They were brought to Babylon as slaves. They have little organized leadership. They barely have control of their own capital city. Jerusalem, I believe it is called. They don't immediately strike one as a potent threat.”

  “Yet wherever they're allowed to breed and settle, they grow stronger. And whenever they reach sufficient numbers, they always seize the reins of power. No treachery is too low, too revolting.”

  “How did you become such an expert?” the King asked.

  Haman paused, and his eyes seemed to fill with tears. “Your Majesty, could I tell you the story of how they exterminated all but a handful of my people?”

  Startled, the King said, “Of course. Tell me all of it.”

  “Well, my ancestors, the Amalekites, tried to make peace with the Jews for centuries. When they first emerged from Egypt, their own women and children starving and emaciated, we offered them food and shelter. They repaid us by stealing our crops and burning three of our villages. Then they settled in our prime farming areas and simply began to take our lands by force. Still, we sought to coexist in harmony. But once their population grew large enough, they chose a king and began to make war against us in earnest. They systematically slaughtered men, women, children, even our livestock, by the thousands. They killed all but a tiny remnant of helpless Amalekites, my own people, my heritage, deliberately trying to wipe us from the face of the earth. And they robed it all in religious excuses. It's a matter of historical record, your Majesty. I encourage you to have your scholars research it themselves in the royal library.”

  The King shook his head, consumed by dark thoughts. At long last, he looked up. “So what do you propose I do? Eradicate them? They are not only numerous in Susa but all across the Empire. They are well-respected merchants and-”

  “I know, sir. That is part of their plan. To fit into the Persian population and disperse evenly across your districts, waiting for the signal to strike. But they are so relentless, so unceasing in their vile efforts, that the only way to save your kingdom is to make an example of them. Kill them all.”

  “All? You must be joking. Our citizens would never understand.”

  “Leave even a remnant, and it will redouble its struggle to destroy you.” Haman allowed a thoughtful pause to settle over the exchange. Then he pounced. “And, my King, I have something else to make your decision easier.” He took another of his ponderous breaths. “As it is no secret that my people have an ancient stake in seeing these vermin wiped from this earth, I will pay into the treasury ten thousand talents of silver upon the issuance of a royal edict authorizing their liquidation.”

  “That is a most generous offer, my friend,” Xerxes replied thoughtfully. “And yet, such a rash action. I just returned from a disappointing war. I have hardly the goodwill or the pretext to deploy my troops across the realm to kill a civilian population.”

  “You are king, sir. You do not need a pretext, especially where national security is in the balance. The Hebrew threat is its own justification. And yet-do not send your troops. There is a simmering jealousy toward Jews among your loyal citizens. Simply give them the authorization to kill all the Jews in their midst and take their possessions for themselves. Many Jews are quite prosperous, you know. And remember that my contribution alone will restore health to the royal treasury.”

  Haman smiled his best compliant grin at those words, for he was already planning in secret for his henchmen to plunder the wealthiest Jews upon the chosen day-amply reimbursing him for the outlay of blood money he had just offered the King.

  Xerxes fell into a long, meditative pause. Having been in his post only a short time, Haman was not supposed to know about the treasury's plight. Yet the King overlooked the unauthorized knowledge as just another fact of Palace life and considered the plan with a slow nodding of his head. The last thing he needed now was a rebellion at home after such a costly and embarrassing defeat abroad. Yes, he thought with a clench of his jaw, he must appear strong now. Or others would arise to exploit his weakness-others who were already watching for the least sign of encouragement.

  “That is a most helpful idea, my friend,” he said at last. “You have clearly given this a great deal of thought. This Jewish scribe, by the way-he must have truly stirred your ire.”

  “Clearly he did, sir. Every person at the King's Gate, hundreds of your Majesty's most faithful subjects, bowed to me in respect. Not respect for me, mind you, but by extension for the Crown and for your Majesty. This man's rigid back made him stand out like a torch at midnight. Every eye turned from the King's chief servantme-and was drawn to this seditious display. It was a powerful gesture of rebellion against you and your stated authority, your Majesty. And it may have been a public sign of what has been brewing in private.”

  Xerxes' face went grim and tense. “That will not do, Haman. You are right. I saw your quick eye on the battlefield, my friend. You saw enemies coming before others did. I value that talent most highly.” The King reached one hand over the other and yanked off his jeweled royal ring. He held it out to Haman. “Here. Use my signet ring to make this into law. The Jews are yours to do your bidding. But remember, my friend”-and at this, Xerxes grabbed Haman's wrist and fixed him with a piercing gaze-“once that signet ring stamps the wax, it is done. The law decrees that it cannot be changed. So do it right the first time.”

  My husband recounted to me this whole conversation in vivid detail when later he discovered how he had been manipulated. I don't mind telling you he was both extremely angry and mortified to have been deceived by someone he trusted. But I am getting ahead of my story.

  As occurred whenever an urgent proclamation was to be dispersed across the kingdom, the Master of the Audiences summoned every Palace scribe into his presence for dictation. Mordecai, as an experienced member, usually was situated in the very front row. But seeing who was in charge of the meeting, he chose a seat farther back.

  Without greeting or preliminaries of any sort, Haman began to elaborate on their assignment.

  “On the thirteenth day of the month of Adar, all citizens of Persia are exhorted by His Majesty King Xerxes to destroy, to kill, to annihilate every person of Jewish blood, whether man, woman or child. On top of that, the populace is fully authorized to plunder these dead traitors' possessions. Signed into royal law on this day.”

  Now, you must understand-Mordecai was already most agitated at being in such close proximity to the man who had murdered his family. He was using every ounce of self-restraint and natural common sense to keep his mouth shut. But when he heard these words, his lungs nearly emptied of air. The vessels of his brain seemed to void themselves of blood. He fought to keep himself upright. While his head swam, he managed to still its motion by thinking of his family and allowed the rage to keep him conscious.

  He focused his gaze on Haman.

  “Does this edict actually come from the King? Does it bear his royal signet?” asked a brave scribe.

  Maybe, just maybe, this evil man is acting without approval, thought Mordecai.

  “No,” Haman said flippantly. And for just a moment, Mordecai's heart again soared with sudden hope.

  Then Haman held up his hand with a faint smile, allowing the King's ring to glitter in the light. He slammed the jewel and its seal down upon the questioner's parchment, indenting the royal seal across the document.

  “Now it does.” He stared straight at Mordecai for a long moment.

  That next dawn, the King's Gate shook with a sound like an onrushing tornado, rousing me from my sleep. A moment later, the cause of the awesome sound materialized: it was the thundering hooves of 127 of the Empire's fleetest mounts, each one bearing a royal courier and storming through the port
al in a cyclone of dust and noise. I watched from a small Palace balcony, awakened by the noise but as yet unaware that each rider carried, in a leather pouch upon his back, sealed with the King's signet, a copy of the edict authorizing the extermination of my people. As I learned later, much too late, each horse and messenger would scatter to each of Persia's 127 provinces in twenty-three nations, delivering their tidings of death to each of the provincial governors in person.

  Haman had wasted no time.

  I also did not know that Mordecai, who had personally prepared twelve copies in the last twenty-four hours, himself stood at the King's Gate during that evil moment and watched the dark shape of the convoy recede from sight while he swayed from sheer grief in the retreating daylight. He reached up to his brow, wiped it clean of a sweat that bore no relation to the weather and fought to keep his balance.

  Mordecai had been so proud of being a royal scribe. All over Susa, Jews accorded him great respect, despite his lack of involve ment in their community, because of his work and the status it afforded him.

  Now he wanted to vomit, thinking of what he had just helped to expedite. And even worse, he could not let himself even consider the thought that his refusal to bow to Haman had been the spark that launched this evil attack on his people.

  t first, I thought little of not seeing or hearing from Mordecai over the span of several days. After all, the King had just returned after four years' absence, which had caused my own schedule to accelerate dramatically. Court was back in full swing, my social calendar had gone from dormant to hectic, and my free time was largely spent in useless yet time-consuming court appearances about the Palace.

  In fact, the demands on my time escalated even more sharply because of a most disquieting turn of events.

  You see, matters between Xerxes and me did not permanently return to the ecstasy of our first few nights together so many years before. What sank my spirits as surely as anything was the lack of a summons to his side-or his bed. Slowly, it grew clear to me that the magic spell of our time together had been shattered by the rigors and traumas of war. The initial period of bliss and harmony appeared to be over.

  My nights spent alone during his absence were nothing com pared to the lonely nights after his return, which gradually increased in number until more than a month had passed. I began to catch the tail end of gloating looks and snippets of gossip from ladies of the court, and I wondered who was gracing the King's bed. As usual, my faithless mind raced far on ahead of the facts.

  Certainly, I was not the only one being neglected by the King. His deflated retreat from Greece, combined with the disastrous news of the treasury, the murder of Memucan and the subsequent report of a grave threat within the Palace walls-all had combined to render Xerxes listless and despondent for the very first time in his reign. I began to hear of canceled engagements, of days when Xerxes never left his chambers. I longed to reach his side and do my best to restore his morale, but even the most basic mealtime summons never arrived. And so, as my popularity still soared with the people following the Queen's tax repeal, I began to make appearances in his stead, dismissing the urgent inquiries about his health with a quick laugh and a confident shake of my head.... Oh

  no, fear not, Vice-Chancellor His Majesty is merely in a war council, conferring with his generals on the impending counterattack....

  To make all of this even worse, I remained tormented by the fact that Haman, the now-proved murderer of my family, was my husband's top advisor-a man who now spent much of his day just a short distance from me, constantly trying to become as trusted and close to me as Memucan had once been. His ingratiating efforts, of course, only made me want to publicly scream out my accusations. But I bit my tongue and gave him my best winning smile. Truth be told, it was only after witnessing how the King's reclusiveness bolstered Haman's status as the Empire's most powerful figure that I started attending court functions alone. Someone had to blunt the Agagite's sudden rise to power, and at the moment I seemed to be the only person in a position to do it.

  Yet once again, the overwhelming fears of my childhood started to make repeat appearances. I began having nightmares of that horrible night, only now Xerxes and the Palace court stood watch ing the carnage, laughing and pointing out its most spectacular highlights. Perhaps worse, that gray cloud started to haunt my waking hours again, coloring my daylight with its haunting and shadowy gloom. I grew fearful and jumpy. Sudden gestures and people turning corners too quickly caused me to scream, ready for a blade across my neck. As a result I became irritable and critical.

  Worse still, I had begun to hear Palace rumors of impending civil unrest. The whole city wallowed in confusion. Indeed, the world seemed to be unraveling at every seam! How far I had come from the wide-eyed girl who once imagined life among these golden walls as a blissful idyll of joy and leisure. All the prestige and privilege had now faded utterly from my mind-replaced only by gnawing fear and grinding stress.

  As a result of all these distractions, I was completely caught off guard when one of my handmaidens quietly tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, “Your eunuch friend, Hathach, is waiting outside. He has an urgent message he will deliver only to you.”

  For some reason, I instantly knew it was about Mordecai. I had not heard from him in several days and I sorely needed a dose of his calming wisdom. A plunge of fear stabbed through me-had he suffered an illness? Had his delvings into Haman's complicity caused him to be hurt-or worse?

  I immediately stood and made my way to the door where I knew Jesse awaited, an anxious look on his still-handsome face.

  “Hadassah-I mean, Esther-” he smiled gamely at his inability to use my royal name-“there's a problem, but I don't know what it is. I have been ensconced in the archives on an assignment from the King, but when I finished this morning, I heard some most disturbing news. I know it's serious, because Mordecai paraded through this city in full Jewish regalia, crying loudly in Hebrew. It's as if he now wants the whole world to know what he kept under wraps for so many years. And even worse, he has now clothed himself with sackcloth and ashes and spends all day at the King's Gate moaning loudly.”

  “Did he say why he is so upset?”

  “No. He barely acknowledged my presence, he was so distraught. He will not move any more than he will speak. All I know is he is wearing full Jewish mourning garb. He must have told everyone he was a Jew, because all the symbols are now there for everyone to see.”

  “He is certainly in mourning-there is no other meaning for sackcloth and ashes. But mourning what? Are there any tragic deaths he could be upset about?”

  Jesse shook his head. “He keeps mumbling something like `only she can save me now.' You must go to him, Esther.”

  “I can't. I must not. But, please, go to him for me. Take him a change of clothes and tell him that he must stop this dangerous display and be more discreet. If he wants to continue keeping the truth about our relationship a secret, I simply cannot come to him. He must stop what he's doing and tell you what is the matter.”

  Jesse nodded somberly and hurried from the room through the hidden exit. Although he was now Haman's chief assistant, he spent some of his time working on my behalf-errands that were naturally kept hidden from his new superior. In that role he had learned all the Queen's hidden exits and corridors.

  I was just finishing a solitary supper when the same handmaiden rushed in and summoned me with frantic hand motions. I hurried out to our usual meeting spot and found Jesse sitting against the Palace wall with his face in his hands. Without a moment's care for appearances, I rushed over, knelt and pulled his hands back. The face before me bore little resemblance to the one that had left me such a short time before. Jesse's face was streaked with dust and tear tracks, and his features were so twisted in anguish that he did not look like himself.

  “What is the matter, Jesse? Tell me, what were his tidings?”

  He shook his head, initially unable to even form the words. I felt my heart plummet and
shook his wrists wildly.

  “What? What?”

  “Your husband has just issued an Empire-wide edict stating that on the thirteenth of Adar all Jews are to be killed-men, women and children.”

  I recoiled as though a physical blow had struck me across the face. I began to pant, for the invisible shock had knocked the air out of me and I literally could not breathe. I fell back and sank into the dust-hardly a regal pose. Yet I could not gather the composure to regain my feet.

  I wanted to race through the usual preliminaries-whether he was joking, whether there could be some mistake, whether this interpretation was all the result of some simple misunderstanding. But I knew that neither Mordecai nor Jesse, both of whom I trusted above all others, would have told me this without absolute certainty. My mind reeled instead from one futile reassurance to another, none of them satisfactory. The inescapable verdict was like some child's leather pouch I could not allow to fall to earth, that I had to keep swatting about in my brain and keep airborne as though my life depended on it.

  One Night With the King: A Special Movie Edition of the Bestselling Novel, Hadassah by Tommy Tenney;Mark Andrew Olsen