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

  He deserved it, of course, as much as any occupant of the Palace had ever deserved a wild ovation. His loving obstinacy had helped bring about every good thing of that day. He was as great a hero as any soldier of Xerxes' army. And the crowd was filled with Susa's Jews, I later learned, for whom Mordecai had just attained the status of liberator.

  He leaned to me and whispered, “Esther, always remember that favor can restore in a day what was stolen over a lifetime.” I felt his hand squeeze something into mine-a strangely familiar shape in a velvet cloth. I unwrapped it and gasped as I held up the old star necklace given to me by my parents.

  Mordecai continued, “I guess now that everybody knows who you are and what you are, you should wear this again.”

  He raised it in trembling fingers and slowly lowered it around my neck. I embraced him with all the strength in my arms. Of all the spectators watching that moment, only he and I knew everything that gesture meant to us.

  Across the Empire, the Jews began to call Mordecai the Exi- larch-leader of those in exile. And it appears the title will continue on even now that Mordecai is in his old age. Wherever one of his couriers rode in with Mordecai's edict held high in the wind, there was feasting and rejoicing such as Jews had not enjoyed in decades. The name of Mordecai was celebrated in word and song.

  And, in the quarters of the wicked, mightily feared.

  After the death of Haman until the counter-edict took effect on the thirteenth day of Adar, Haman's sons continued their father's ethnic hatred against the Jews. But as the months passed and the strength of the King's favor became more apparent, they went into hiding. Of course, the real liberation occurred when Haman's supposed day of Jewish extermination finally dawned. Mordecai's subsequent proclamation had produced its desired effect, for anyone with an ounce of political savvy had come to realize that the weight of imperial support now rested on the Jewish side. As a result, none of the government officials, from satraps to local governors, lifted a finger against my people. The only ones who did attack us would best be described as roving thugs, a few remnants of the Riders of the Twisted Cross hoping to strike at opportunistic targets like undefended homes or houses of worship. I am sorry to have to report that Elias, Mordecais' father's friend, was killed during the street fighting.

  But the hoodlums met a Jewish people heartened by the King's support and steeled by the knowledge that Persia's second-incommand-a man reputedly more influential than any non-royal in recent history-was in fact one of their own. The Jews had planned long and hard for this day and organized themselves into local militias who defended the weak and helpless with a fervor that left the streets littered with corpses and their opponents running away in panic.

  I myself spent that day upon the Palace ramparts flanked by Jesse, who was now Xerxes' head eunuch, and a contingent of heavily armed bodyguards. Even my limited view gave me a heartening appraisal of the day's eventual outcome. I saw well-coordinated bands of Jewish men pursue erstwhile attackers down the streets with flying arrows and knives and even flaming clay pots of oil. I gasped as I watched one reckless youth strike an old Hebrew woman only to be beaten to death by a passing band of Jews. It was not pretty, but every time I grew revolted, I reminded myself of the bloodshed that would have taken place had Haman's edict been carried out. What I saw was nothing compared to what might have befallen my people!

  I was in the King's bedchamber that night preparing to retirefor indeed, the turn of events had given our marriage another of its periodic revivals-when Mordecai knocked and entered with the day's tally. I must admit that I startled at the sight of my father entering my marriage bedroom, until I remembered that of all his subjects, the Master of the Audiences had the greatest access to the King's presence.

  I realized at once that Mordecai was even more startled than I. He stood motionless, his gaze transfixed upon the jeweled star lying against Xerxes' breastbone.

  “Your Majesty,” he finally said, haltingly, “that is a mostunusual-and beautiful medallion upon your person.”

  “It should be! It was given to me by the Queen herself.”

  Mordecai's eyes shifted to the familiar medallion around my neck, and his amazement seemed to grow dramatically. I realized instantly that Mordecai had not known of the second one given to me by Hegai. I quickly explained, and he was dumbstruck by the resemblance between the two.

  “So, my most excellent Mordecai,” Xerxes called out in a hearty voice, shattering the silence, “how have your people fared on this day?”

  “Well, of course, being the first eve,” Mordecai answered with a moment's pause, “I can speak only for Susa and the nearest outlying cities. But in my limited vision, it appears the counter-edict was an enormous success.”

  I breathed out with a sigh so loud that both men paused and turned in my direction.

  “In Susa alone,” Mordecai continued, “we killed and destroyed five hundred would-be murderers and plunderers.”

  Xerxes blew out his breath with an amazed look. “Five hundred men! If you did all that in Susa alone, who knows what your countrymen have done across the kingdom! I hope I have subjects left!”

  “You do, sir,” Mordecai assured with a smile. “And with your leave I took the initiative of ordering that all spoils of the conflict go to your Majesty's treasury to restore what our valiant war on Greece had, ah ... withdrawn.”

  “Excellent,” Xerxes exclaimed. “You are a most astute advisor, indeed.”

  “Were all the Agagites killed?” I asked Mordecai.

  “Pardon?” he asked, not quite understanding my question.

  I fixed him with a knowing, intense look. “Were all the Agagites killed?” I repeated, each word distinct.

  And Mordecai smiled again-recognizing the grasp of Jewish history I was now exhibiting. He smiled at my memory of all those bedtime stories he had forced me to endure. “No, my Queen,” he replied. “There remain Haman's own sons and a group of his gang who escaped retribution.”

  “So Samuel's ancient order to Saul remains unfulfilled.”

  “I'm afraid that is the case.”

  Upon those words I turned to Xerxes and, perhaps without completely needing to, I fell prostrate before him.

  Xerxes laughed. “Now what is your petition, my Queen? It will be granted you, make no mistake. You have probably just helped rid the Empire of several thousand undesirables, including the traitor Haman. So name your request.”

  I rose into a kneeling position. “If it pleases the King,” I answered, “let tomorrow also be granted to the Jews of Susa, to follow the edict one more time.”

  I had stretched my royal influence to its limit, yet the King, bless him, agreed despite not quite understanding the ancient blood feud that had provoked my request.

  It was simple-I knew that any remnants of Haman's followers would probably be hiding among the population of Susa. And I wanted to finish what King Saul, five hundred years before, had failed to do. Exterminate the final ranks of Israel's oldest and most evil foe. Correct a centuries-old mistake.

  And indeed, across Susa, Jews sought out the men who had worn the twisted cross, gathered around them and slaughtered them. Their foul garments, along with the evil insignia they had tried to hide, were promptly burned.

  By the next day they had ferreted out Haman's ten sons. When the last one had been captured, Mordecai ordered them to also be impaled on gallows as their father had been. He sent out a pronouncement to all 127 provinces of Persia that the circle was complete and a five-hundred-year-old omission reversed. The bodies displayed on the gallows were the evidence. An ancient enmity upon the Jewish people was purged. Not to mention an entire race saved.

  And a little girl's grief avenged.

  t has now been many years since these historic events took place. If you are indeed, as I suspect, a Jewish girl, then you heard songs sung in your nursery rhymes recounting the Feast of Purim, the holiday established to celebrate our deliverance from the evil I have recounted here.

/>   Today, I am no longer a woman spoken of for her youth and beauty. Constant tending with myrrh massages once delayed, even softened, the onset of wrinkles. At least for a time. No, I am a source of legend perhaps, yet no one will still call me the fairest maiden in the kingdom.

  But that is far from the only bittersweet gift the years have wrought. As you probably know quite well, Xerxes was murdered in his bed only four years after all this took place. I made certain my dear husband was buried with the medallion I gave him on our first fateful night. I still miss him terribly, especially those glorious evenings we shared at the beginning of our marriage. The breathtaking Palace at Susa burned to the ground six years later, which is why I took such pains to describe its splendors to you. I wish you could have seen it, my dear, when it was the virtual center of the world and seemed to contain half its people.

  Indeed, you could no longer say that being King of Persia is to be King of the World. Persia is a far weaker empire than it once was, and its military might is now a patchwork reflection of what I remember. I hear that our current King would rather hire foreign mercenaries to do our fighting than drag our citizens into one more disastrous campaign.

  So, my dear girl, you enter into Palace life at a time probably as perilous and unsettled as my own. Mordecai's admonition may well apply to you-“... who knows but that G-d placed you here for such a time as this?”

  As you face the “competition,” remember the protocols of the King's presence, my dear. Heed the Chamberlain as though your life depended on it, because it may. The man has the ear of the King himself, so his advice outweighs that of a thousand others. Bear gifts; do not ask for them. Keep your motives sincere and pure. Remember that this is not about you your beauty, your charm, your allure. It is about him. Focus on the King. Delight in his presence, and you'll already have all the attractiveness you need. Cultivate true intimacy, not just sensuality, and influence will come with it. The King's favor is worth more than all the titles and pomposities a person could ever hoard-as Haman's fate will readily attest.

  I hope this too-lengthy account of my story proved to you that these maxims are no mere platitudes. Learning and understanding the protocols of the King's presence could save your life-even the lives of our whole race. At the very least, they could earn you a lifetime's worth of favor with the King.

  As for me, I can truthfully say that the years have been kindand mercifully, I can add, free of the excitement that seemed to lurk around every corner during those earlier days. The people remember me warmly, and indeed their adulation has helped keep me safe and protected these many years.

  After Xerxes' tragic death, I took up residence in the candidates' harem, in the same favored suite that holds so many fond memories for me. And I find that I have a soft place in my heart for the harem girls, once discarded and now stranded among the careening monoliths of history. I find I hold a great deal in common with them.

  I rejoice to know that Mordecai became one of the most beloved and revered figures Persia has known-the Exilarch, and perhaps the ablest Master of the Audiences any king ever took to his side. As such, he no longer was able to slip anonymously in and out of the Palace grounds to converse with me. And the strange thing is, as I am now the ex-Queen, Poppa became the one with greater access around the Palace. It was I who became compelled to sneak in to see him. And of course, even today in his extreme old age, he still acts like my father. Which I know he is-I suppose I mean that he acts like the father of a ten-year-old. I love him for it. Sometimes I wish I could bring myself back in time as the Hadassah of old, then climb up into his lap for another of those endless stories he once told me about the history of Israel.

  And Jesse, our Hathach the Good Man? He rose to the rank of King's chief eunuch, with the primary responsibility of managing the royal harems. That's right, my dear. The very Chamberlain who greeted you on your first day and who this very moment oversees your own year of preparation. So when I tell you to listen to the Chamberlain, it is important. He happens to be my very oldest and very best friend.

  To this day, he and I meet in the Palace orchards as we did so long ago. We reminisce with laughter and not a few tears about the extraordinary events of our youth. We share each other's burdens, hopes, fears and deepest yearnings. We even shed a few tears for the irrepressible Rachel, whom I brought to live with me in the palace and who lived long enough to see Mordecai save the Jews of Susa.

  I suppose if it were not for the terrible loss inflicted upon Jesse, as well as my very public legacy, we might have married. I cherish his company and rely on his advice, and I could not last a day without our conversations. Besides, I'm sure you'll agree that he grew into a very handsome man.

  In fact, it was on one of our clandestine walks through the gardens that we spotted you, in some of the very places I once retreated to, clearly praying to G-d. We shared a look charged with decades of history, and I resolved there and then to give this account to you, one that I have been researching and writing for many years.

  Of course, there is another character in this drama, the One who, despite our limited view of circumstances, watched and cared for His people through every twist and turn. He is the One who oversaw its whole outcome-and with whom I still revel in a rich and amazing relationship. He is YHWH, the G-d of my fathers. I cannot pretend that I feel Him every day as strongly as I did during some of those times of agonizing crisis. Yet I do feel His Spirit with me, I speak to Him constantly, and sometimes at the oddest of moments-watching a sunset over the Palace mount, holding a small child, walking with Mordecai or Jesse-I feel His presence as vividly as ever.

  During such occasions I am given to laughing out loud, shouting out a word or two in His praise, raising my hands to the heavens and even weeping uncontrollably. I wish more than anything that I could see Him with my earthly eyes at those times-so I could run to Him like that tiny child seeing his returning father and jump blissfully into His arms. Instead, I content myself with a few feeble old lady's leaps or two. And then I bask inwardly in the embrace of His presence, exulting in His love and praising Him for all that He is-to me, to my people and now to you.

  They say I am turning into an old woman and that old women are given to this kind of eccentric behavior.

  Hah. I only hope they-and you-will someday share my lunacy

  For now, this side of paradise, the best substitute I can think of is to return as fast as I can to the bosom of my people-the land of Israel. And that is my dream. I am hoping to soon join a countryman named Ezra on a caravan and return across the deserts to live my last days in the land of my fathers. I do not know if you will have spent your night with the King by the time I depart. I suppose it is of little consequence to your chances, either way. But I will pray that you experience the love that I knew with my Xerxes.

  And I will pray that, as it did for me, your one night with the King changes everything.

  Signed, Hadassah, Esther, Star of Persia

  JERUSALEM-PRESENT DAY

  adassah turned the final page slowly and, with a palpable feeling of regret, closed the cover. The young bride turned to her father. It was the final afternoon, her wedding only hours away. She had promised him she would finish reading the book before the moment came, despite all the preparations at hand. With a long sigh, she laid her head upon his bony shoulder and grasped his arm in both her hands.

  “So, Poppa, do you think she made it?”

  “Who?”

  “Esther. Do you think she made it back to Israel?”

  He smiled and narrowed his eyes ever so slightly to gaze out over the valley of Kidron and the Temple Mount. “Well, my love, experts will tell you there is no historical or archaeological record of Queen Esther ever leaving Persia, let alone arriving here. And I sort of like it that way.”

  “So do I.”

  “But between you and me, I'm sure she made it. In fact, I'm certain of it. Whether she stayed there for the remainder of her days, only G-d knows.”

  Then
he turned in his chair, winced slightly with the aches and pains of an old man and extracted a velvet box from his suit pocket.

  “Here, my dear. Your old aunt wanted you to have this.”

  She knelt before him and reached out delicately to open the box. Inside was an obviously ancient and weathered, yet still exquisite, piece of jewelry-a golden medallion engraved with the Star of David.

  She frowned and glanced up at her father. “What aunt?”

  “Oh, you know. Queen Esther. And she gave it to the young candidate to whom she wrote-”

  “Oh, Poppa,” she gasped, reeling with the knowledge of what she cradled in her hand.

  “I am going to find out the name inscribed second to Queen Esther's on the memoir,” she finally said to her father when she had her emotions under control. “She is my ancestor, and I feel like she's here for my wedding.”

  Her father laid his hand on her head and recited the ancient Hebrew blessing that was many times older than the medallion.