I love the garden, too, because it is easier to think of the palace and its events when I am outside of it, rather than in its belly. The garden worked its magic over my time here; the shock I once felt at seeing Cyrus again and having him near (if still unseen), and the mystery of the gifts left to me have faded now in my mind, if that is a blessing. But if I am grateful for the peace in my heart, I am also sorry, for those intrigues had once again stirred my imagination. I felt alive again, in the strange way that only danger and love can give you. Until then, I had almost forgotten the allure of dark discoveries and forbidden dreams. Once remembered, I now force myself to return to my quiet life, my prayers and the garden, and be grateful for the brief distraction that quickened my pulse while my days draw slowly past.
45
Nineteenth Day of the Month of Tishri
Eleventh Year of the Reign of Xerxes
Year 3403 after Creation
I am not sure I will write much more in these pages, nor am I sure what will become of these scrolls when I am gone. As heaven is my witness, I have brought none of this upon myself, but I fear I will die for the transgression just the same.
Tonight as I took my customary stroll through the quiet palace gardens, I again felt another’s eyes upon me. I was alone, of course, and my attendants were in the portico, enjoying the wine and night music flowing from the king’s palace as the Magi continued to hold sway over the court. Yet I was sure someone was there with me. I should have left. I am cursed that I did not listen to my spirit and flee!
As I moved through the garden, to my favorite retreat of fig trees and rosebushes, where the scents and flavors of creation reach my head faster than spiced wine, a hand reached for me as sudden and darting as a serpent. It wrapped around my mouth so that I could not scream, and the other arm encircled my waist, dragging me to seclusion. I could not see his face, but I felt his breath hot on my neck and saw his drawn dagger flash in his hand. My heart beat so quickly beneath my robe I was sure it would burst forth and fly away from this place. He whispered softly. I strained to recognize his voice. It had been so long ago when I had last heard it like this; would I know his sound now? I tried to remember the touch of his skin, but he had been yet a boy, and time had changed us both.
His whisper was quiet. “How many nights have I longed to hold you in my arms? Do you dream of me, Esther, as I dream of you? For I have watched you moving about in your palace, and these gardens, and I have loved you from a distance for far too long now. My own father married me to a plain and grating woman, whose dowry was to his liking, although he knew the girl was not to mine. I, too, know what it is to suffer, to marry whom you do not love.”
These were the words from my own dreams, what I had heard in the shadowlands of sleep, and yet they had no sweetness to them now, spoken like this in Xerxes’ garden. I had not expected to hear such bitterness in them. And why would he not let me see his face? He paused for a moment, taking me in with his ragged breaths and rough touch, before continuing:
“I know you cannot have given your heart to a man likes Xerxes. He cannot appreciate you the way I can. He was born in the palace and knows nothing else. Only I see the heart you hide within. Only I can love you as the heavens intended. I will not keep you waiting much longer. Soon I will dispose of our enemies, those who would stand before us and our destiny together.”
I do not know how, but I found enough voice to reply. “Enemies?”
“Yes, the vile ones who stand in the way of our happiness together. It will be a tidy business, Esther, and then you will be mine. For now, I can ask only for your trust.” He ran the blade of the dagger along one of my arms, and I shivered in the hot desert night air.
“Why must you shed blood if it is only me you want? I am not worth the lives of so many,” I said in confusion. This was not the gentle boy I had known; what had happened in the years of my absence? What had Mordecai omitted in his letters? Yet how could I judge what Cyrus had become? I was different, too. I had lain with another man, spent my years making my body his own secret garden. I was no longer a girl who sold fleeces and stole chaste kisses in the moonlight.
He laughed, grabbing my hair and burying his face in it, inhaling deeply. As he exhaled, I could smell the wine from the king’s palace.
“Ah. Already you keep pace with me,” he remarked. “It is true I want something else. Why go to war, if not for all the spoils? If we are to be lovers, I should tell you everything, should I not? But then, not yet. You will know all in good time.”
His blade followed the line of my robe, from the soft of my thigh, to my belly, and between my breasts, as if he would caress me with its blade, and he then laughed. “Mordecai has made it all so easy for me. He got such pleasure in denying me what was due me, and I thought often of merely dragging him into an darkened doorway and slitting his throat in revenge. But thorns lead to roses, do they not? He has unwittingly delivered the crown into my hands, through a people whose riches will finance my campaign. They are an unruly people, dedicated to an invisible god of shadows, and would never see me be king. I have but to destroy them, and plunder their houses, and then the crown will be within my certain grasp. Then you will take your rightful place as well, at the side of a true king, one who rules a kingdom, not one who merely governs it.”
He planted a soft kiss on my neck, then released me.
I stumbled forward between the fig trees back onto the path and caught the eye of Ashtari, who had begun to sweep the garden with her eyes to check on me. When she saw me, her brow raised slightly, but I shook my head and pretended to examine whatever blossom was nearest. I tried to catch a glimpse of him as he left, but could not.
I was grateful when they called me in and I retired to my chambers. I should have been flush with pleasure, but dread swam in my stomach, and I felt doubly wretched, for it was only Xerxes’ strong hand that I first thought of to steady me.
46
Thirtieth Day of the Month of Kislev
Eleventh Year of the Reign of Xerxes
Year 3403 after Creation
He knows. G-d help me, but he knows. I must love him somewhere in my deepest spirit, I think, for I fear as much for his heartbreak as for my own neck. When I was in his chambers, lying in his arms, he was stroking my hair, and asked me the question I had no answer for.
“Why is it you never say you love me, Esther?” Xerxes whispered in the darkness. The only reply came from the songbird kept in the far corner of the chamber, nearest the window. She sang a sad song tonight, soft and low, and I wondered where her heart was as well.
Xerxes sat up on one elbow and laughed. “The harem girls can’t quit saying it when they’re brought to my chambers! But you. Not even once.”
I tried a joke of my own. “They are mere words. Words as thin as air. They cannot put gold in your treasury or buy silver for your swords. What use has the great Xerxes for words, and words from a woman?”
“If you think so little of them, why will you not share them with me?” he asked, turning somber now. “I am here, in Susa, but you are far away. Where are you, Esther?”
I could not find my voice. I looked away and felt so naked. I tried to cover myself with the bedclothes, but he jerked the sheets away and stared at me fiercely.
“Whose arms are you in tonight? If I could, I would strike him down with my sword before your very eyes! For what king ever had to watch as another man stole the queen from his very bed?”
I felt a tear roll down my hot, shamed cheek, and he looked away, unmoved.
“The first night you came to me here, I swore to you I would not take you against your will. You offered your heart freely for the crown you wear today. I have invaded countries, crossed seas, watched as my men spilled their blood for me on thirsty desert sands. I am a man of war, but for you, I would live as a man of peace. I have commanded a mil
lion warriors, Esther; why do I not command your heart?”
I could not answer, and his words went on.
“My thirst to see blood spilled has returned,” he threatened. “I will find out who you love, Esther, and destroy him.” Xerxes stood over the bed then turned away toward the window.
“My king!” I cried out. “Your guards watch me day and night. I am never alone! You know I have not betrayed you!”
“You have lied to me, Esther!” he screamed as he threw the songbird off the balcony, her cage crashing down the steps into the garden, her frightened cries hurting my ears, for I was next.
“I rule a kingdom of liars!” he yelled at me. “My food is tasted for poison, my wine is strained for shards of glass, my bed stripped to check for asps and adders! I tolerate it all because I have a dream: a dream for this empire to be ruled by men’s minds, never again their swords. I dream of a kingdom where children will once again play in the streets with no fear of the setting sun, and no mother knows the grief of burying a child who was forced to war instead of school. Persia will be a kingdom where the people die full of years and laughter.”
His voice now grew quiet as he looked at me. “But it is your dreams that are my undoing, Esther, for I do not know who steals into our bed when your eyes are closed.”
He laughed softly and handed me my robes.
“You were right about one thing, my queen. You once told me no other harem girl would love the man, only the crown. You said you were different. How right you were, for you love neither.” With this, he banged on the door for the guards, who entered with swords drawn and led me back to my quarters.
47
Twenty-first Day of the Month of Adar
Eleventh Year of the Reign of Xerxes
Year 3403 after Creation
It has now been two full weeks since I was called to Xerxes. I have never been absent from him for so long, save for the royal feasts he must give for the men according to the customs between the king and the people. There is no such event now. I have been abandoned, and perhaps will be forgotten.
I sent a note to Mordecai, warning him of my midnight conversation with Cyrus in the garden, and hastening him to find out all he could, for no one is safe at the moment. I am afraid to stroll in my gardens at night for refuge; I am afraid to bathe without the cover of many attendants. I do not know when Cyrus will unveil his desperate acts, but I know I must have no part in it. I have begged G-d for Cyrus on so many nights, but I know this is not G-d’s hand at work. G-d would never violate Himself to give me what I desire, and would I not be receiving Cyrus in dishonor? Xerxes will surely think I had a part in this plan, and thus I am in greater danger. Why, but why is goodness so sparse in this world, and evil only compounded?
To add to my worries, Hagai has received a message from Hathach, the eunuch who often attends the king, that the former queen Vashti and her son, Artaxerxes, are amassing support in Egypt and Babylon. These regions have been unhappy with Xerxes for some time, and he has had to repeatedly rein the people in. Artaxerxes must be nearing the age of manhood now; he will be ready to fight for the crown soon, if that is where his advisers lead him. I wonder which of the king’s advisers has fallen sway to Artaxerxes and his followers, for I know a plan such as this will have a traitor inside the palace as well.
But once again, I am only a spectator to the ruthless plans of men. Once again I must remain silent as the world falls in around me.
48
Thirteenth Day of the Month of Nisan
Twelfth Year of the Reign of Xerxes
Year 3404 after Creation
I did not know I had so many guardians and true friends!
When I awoke this morning, Ashtari had already left the chambers to attend to the court. She had a dispatch of letters to certain nobles on my behalf. One servant begged me for assistance with a younger sister who had poor eyes; the girl needed a job and no one in the village would have her. I wrote a letter to a noblewoman I knew was kindly inclined, telling her this girl would be an excellent servant if hired. Another girl had received word her father had died and her mother was begging at the city gates. I asked a nobleman to take her in; apparently the mother is a marvelous seamstress and both would be thereby blessed.
So I lay in my bed, thinking my day would be slow since all my work had been accomplished through my letters. Within moments, several girls gently prodded me awake, and as I waited for my eyes to clear, they already had me half dressed and into my outer chamber. There stood a man, no taller than me really, with wild hair and a frightened expression. I motioned for him to sit, but he remained standing, so I took the chair instead and waited for someone to tell me what was going on.
He spoke first. “Good queen, I have often carried messages from Mordecai to your servant Stateira. It has been my honor to serve you in this way. I would never have revealed my identity to you, lest you think I sought some reward, but now I must offer it as proof of my allegiance to your crown. Last night news emerged from Xerxes’ throne, and I felt compelled to bring you the news immediately, lest time, or your friend, be lost.”
I looked from girl to girl, then back to the man. What friend was he referring to?
“As you know,” he continued, “the Jews live here in Persia at the mercy and good grace of our king, but they are not truly welcome. They have strange customs and keep to themselves. They have often aroused suspicion and anger that perhaps they are hoarding their monies and treasure for a return journey to their home in Jerusalem, when everyone else is being taxed to finance the dream of Persia that Xerxes has proclaimed. Someone has poisoned the king’s mind against these people, and against Mordecai the Jew in particular. Of course, my queen, the king does not know of your friendship with Mordecai, for I have made it my duty to keep your secrets as you wish. But whoever this man is to you, whatever affections you may hold, weigh them carefully now as you decide whether to act.”
I began to feel a new fear, a fear that my buried secrets were closer than I had dreamed, and I motioned for him to speak on.
“Because Mordecai will not honor the prime minister, Haman, he has invited his own death. We are helpless indeed to avert that. But Xerxes will not kill Mordecai alone. Instead, he will order people throughout the province to kill all the Jewish people and seize their wealth. He will spare no one—women, children, the elderly will all fall to the sword on the day he has determined by a toss of the dice. Your friend Mordecai waits outside the palace gates now, in sackcloth and ashes, wailing.”
I was stunned. It had been weeks since I had been called to my husband, but how could he have done something so evil? It made no sense from this man of peace. Surely my wild-haired friend was confused on some point. I thanked him and sent him out. Immediately, I ordered Hathach into my chambers. I knew from his expression he had overheard and believed it all to be true.
“Hathach, gather clothes for Mordecai and take them to him at once. Find out what is truly happening, and report back to me immediately.”
Hathach left, and I clutched my arms to myself, pacing around the room. My maids, bewildered, tried to pat me on the shoulder and stroke my hair.
“Surely you can save your friend,” they crooned to me. “It must be a simple matter of appeasing Haman’s pride. Or perhaps you could persuade Mordecai to make a show of paying more taxes to the crown.”
Ashtari returned from the outer court. Her face was solemn, and she told the other girls to leave us. Then, alone, Ashtari circled me, silently. She came round to face me, and pointed to the horrible scar on her thigh. “You have seen what a Jew did to me. Why do you weep for this people?” she asked, with cold intention.
She knew.
I was her queen, but in this moment, she ruled.
“Why did you never tell me? Did you fear I could not forgive?” she asked.
“My only fear was that I could never make it up to you,” I replied, as softly and honestly as I could. “You have suffered at the hands of a Jew, and there is nothing in my hands that can heal. I would have made your job with me more bitter, and our victory in claiming my crown less sweet. Forgive me now, but keep my secret.”
Ashtari’s mouth began to tremble. “I was beautiful, until a Jew did this to me. I had a family I loved. I had a chance to be married, to have children! Instead, I was thrown into this palace, never to return to my life! He took everything from me!” She shook me, weeping, and I tried to cradle her in my arms.
“No, Ashtari, not everything. He took your faith, I can see that, but G-d has proved faithful. For you were brought here, to me, and into this palace, where you have been loved and honored all the days I have known you.”
She lifted her face to me.
“It is not for us to understand our days,” I continued. “We are surrounded by hidden griefs, wounds that we cannot heal. All we can do, in this age, is entrust them to G-d. We don’t have answers, but it is not answers we seek. We seek G-d’s healing, and I have prayed that for you since the day we met.”
Ashtari wept again but wrapped her arms around my neck. “May G-d heal me now!” she cried. “And forgive my hardness of heart! Tell Esther now, G-d, what she is to do in this dark hour!”
Hathach returned shortly with a message from Mordecai. Hathach had a hopeless look about him. He opened his left hand and a bulletin from the king to the province of Susa fluttered to the floor. It instructed everyone to slaughter the Jews on the thirteenth day of Adar, the twelfth month, and seize their goods and wealth. No one is to be spared on the king’s command. Even babies still at the breast must be run clean through.
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