Chosen

by Ginger Garrett

  The stars gave me no answers. G-d seemed silent and satisfied. I turned and went back inside to my men, who smiled at me together as they saw my approach. I would ponder my questions another night, perhaps. It is a night for wine and love and justice.

  [1] Mordecai’s notice to all the provinces becomes the basis for the annual Jewish celebration of Purim. The word purim comes from the word pur, a reference to the dice (then known as pur) that Haman tossed to determine the day for the slaughter of the Jews. Purim celebrates the heroism of Esther and the Jewish victory over the evils of genocide, which is why Hitler hated the feast, and Esther, so passionately.

  61

  Twelfth Day of the Month of Iyyar

  Thirteenth Year of the Reign of Xerxes

  Year 3406 after Creation

  My heart once again has found a steady rhythm after the wild events of days past. I settle in now, and am tending to my affairs as carefully as I once attended my roses. Much of my time has been spent administering Haman’s estate. He was a wealthy man, owning many servants and much land. My first concern has been to make sure no child goes unfed here, and that the girls in the provinces grow as freely as any flower on the hills. Women are given more power by my hand; if a man mistreats his wife, or abandons her, she has the power to provide for her family and finish her days in comfort. For I have set Haman’s businesses aside for women to run, with orders to employ as many capable women as present themselves. Haman’s land and houses make wonderful refuges for women fleeing a harsh husband, or children who need a good meal. In men’s hearts I know they still set themselves above us, but I know now that too often we alone bear the burdens of this life, and by my hand, and G-d’s providence, no woman need walk alone and ashamed again in this land.

  Mordecai has spent so many evenings at the king’s side now—it is a wonder I should be jealous of him like a harem girl! Mordecai has loosened the cords that made it uncomfortable for my people to worship in public, to keep to their customs and ways. Together, my two men continue to forge the dream of Persia. Mordecai has already done much to modify the king’s plan of taxation, so that everyone pays a proportional share and receives much good. Xerxes has abandoned forever, it seems, his campaigns of war, and sets about campaigns of construction. Roads, seats of government, schools. The people are lavished with stone and bricks, and the finest of engineers from the provinces work through the night on many occasions. I find it interesting that Xerxes has entrusted much power to the people, each in their own regions, and it seems all have adjusted to a reign of peace. The Egyptians roll their eyes at us; they believe stone should be used only for what houses the eternal, such as a tomb. Xerxes counters that if Persia is governed well, she herself will be immortal.

  I sleep well at night now, the sweet sleep of a contented laborer, for I believe my most difficult work here is finished. I can enjoy the spoils of my heartache and endeavors, and once again enjoy the gardens, my meals, my king. Yes, I sometimes find my thoughts turning to Cyrus outside my palace door, but the burning that was once lodged in my heart is but a soft warmth, knowing he is as true a friend as he would have been a husband. I did not write my story, but I am grateful for this ending. My people are safe, and many more might now begin their journey toward the homeland unmolested, with the refreshment of hope and quiet days to strengthen them. And if ever there is a girl who cries out for a mother who is not there, she will find refuge under my crown. My name has become a tree that gives shade to the weary.[1]

  I am at last free of the unrest that burdened me for so long. I have even taken the custom of writing in this diary in the king’s own chambers at night, as I wait for him to return from the court. I rarely even lock it away. And Xerxes often brings papers that his advisers have set before him, and together we discuss their merits before he applies his signet ring. He is amused that I have such instincts for this work and strong intuitions about advisors I never meet.

  Once I came to his chambers only when called; now I prefer to leave only when asked. It feels quite comfortable to be at Xerxes’ side most every night and to wake with only the sound of his breath and the soft morning cries of the doves in the gardens.

  [1] Women did indeed prosper at this time. Women enjoyed equal pay for equal work, controlled their own money, and entered into marriages freely with many legal protections. Additionally, although men still hoped their wives gave them sons, the practice of killing female infants was abandoned. New mothers and pregnant women who chose to work were awarded generous rations and pay at the time of birth and during the postpartum recovery.

  62

  Twenty-sixth Day of the Month of Tammuz

  Thirteenth Year of the Reign of Xerxes

  Year 3408 after Creation[1]

  I returned to my chambers today for a brief respite from Xerxes’ own. It is time for the annual collection of taxes from each province, and the delegates will assemble in the Throne Hall for an elaborate display of loyalty and gifts to the crown before having their taxes counted and entering into the feast Xerxes has commanded. Such business is not an event for a woman, of course. But a brief respite will only be good for us both, the way a walk between meals invigorates the appetite.

  Yet a strange thing happened today, out of place in this tranquility only because it was an unfamiliar sight: When I returned to my chambers, I found Ashtari trying on one of my robes and surveying herself in the polished mirror. She was deeply shamed and filled with words of remorse when she finally saw me watching her, and I forgave her this one indiscretion. I have been careless, thoughtless, to live with such splendor for myself and not think she would grow to yearn. Poor, loving Ashtari. I resolve to share more of my treasures with her. Never was a friend as constant and steady in times of trouble, and I have not rewarded her as such. But I will begin.

  [1] Once again, a gap of dates appears in the diaries. This one is approximately three years, and two entries later, a second gap of four years appears. However, new evidence suggests that this particular scroll once included the missing dates. Someone removed a portion of the diary; perhaps it was a contemporary who wanted to hide their own role in the events of her life, or it was done at a later date, either by accident or with malice. Esther’s voice is remarkable in that no regime, and no leader, has been able to silence her.

  63

  Eleventh Day of the Month of Kislev

  Thirteenth Year of the Reign of Xerxes

  Year 3408 after Creation

  My once unrestrained joy is tempered now by the weary truth of days without change, for still I am not pregnant. Xerxes has perhaps set aside this dream; but of course, his harem girls and minor wives have provided him with heirs many times over. Indeed, his firstborn son, Artaxerxes, continues to be a source of worry among the court.

  So is it a matter of pride that I still long to carry a child? Am I of no value if I remain barren? That is the opinion of some in the court; I can feel their cold stares as I return to the king’s chambers night after night. They do not understand what use the king has for a woman who can give him nothing. It is true—I have not given Xerxes a son so that his name would be carried on. But I gave Xerxes a name that would be carried on because of honor and not infamy. How I have so often stopped him from running to disaster and opened to him the hearts of a foreign people. Yes, my spirit has done more for this man than my womb ever could. Must I always apologize for this barrenness when I am in the courts?

  Yet it is my womb that feels its emptiness above all, and she cannot be consoled, even with the great things I have done. I have begged G-d night and day, but why He would open the heavens on so many occasions but remain silent on this one requires a faith beyond my own. I walk these great halls with the certainty that I rule here, but my will falters. I find it hard to pray every day, every morning, to have the rabbi offer sacrifices on my behalf, and y
et receive no word in return, no blessing. Did I fail in my great task, my Lord? Why do You not answer and so provoke me to wrath? Would it not be sin to be angry with You now, after You have delivered me through so much, and then delivered a nation through me? Can we not come to peace on this, my G-d? Can You not grant me a child, and so satisfy this crippling longing? Or if not, can You not give me an answer, and so set my heart at rest? How long, O Lord, will I wait for either? I drive myself mad asking these questions at every moment.

  Were it not for the comfort of true friends, and the satisfaction of a palace governed by the Lord’s hand, I would not sleep so deeply, and enjoy the pleasures G-d does see fit to grant me. I can even content myself that it is Xerxes’ name that is recorded in the annals of the historians, not mine, and yet it is through me that a new world of peace and fair government is born.

  I smiled as I wrote that sentence. Sometimes, when I am writing, it is as if I feel the breath of G-d across the page. I have not given the king an heir, and my womb remains empty, but through me peace at last entered Persia. I gave birth to something beautiful in this world; am I not a mother then? It is a beautiful answer to the questions in my heart tonight.

  And I will end with this: Like a mother, I worry for her, this precious peace. When I am gone, what will happen to her, this peace of Persia?

  64

  Twenty-second Day of the Month of Shevat

  Twentieth Year of the Reign of Xerxes

  Year 3412 after Creation

  Cyrus is dead.

  There are so few details, and Ashtari was pained to tell me of them all. She knew Cyrus was loyal to me, even above the throne, but she knew nothing else of him. How good of her to shield me from what more she must know of his death. It seems that he was struck down when he confronted a group of men near the Gate of All Nations. Probably thieves, Ashtari reports. No one saw the men closely or can report more details than that.

  Tragedy always travels with her twin sister, however. After Cyrus’s death, his men, the men most loyal to him throughout Haman’s intrigue, died in an accident. They had gone together to the local temple, perhaps to offer sacrifices to Ahura Mazda in Cyrus’s memory, and to ease their grief. Together they went to a lower chamber, a private quarter made available to them by the ruling Magi. As they gathered, a channel in the aqueduct burst suddenly, filling the small room with water immediately. No one survived. Indeed, no one above would even have heard their cries for help. Is it fitting, I wonder, that they all died in silence? Even Cyrus’s death is muted by the slim account Ashtari can give. No one ever knew who Cyrus was to me. Not even Mordecai. How odd he would have loomed so large in my life, and so small in others’ eyes.

  So he is gone. There is a long scar across my heart where his name once was written. I had seared it away after so many nights in Xerxes’ bed, willing myself to love the man G-d had brought me, and not the one I had yearned for. I would have expected this news to rip the flesh of my heart apart, but as I waited to feel the searing pain, I felt only a deep sadness in my spirit. My friend was gone, and for him I would grieve, but I knew now my love had died so many years ago, and I no longer grieve for him in that way. Oh, Cyrus, how many burdens you surely bore of your own, that I knew nothing of. We were strangers who knew each other’s memory so well. I wish you speed to the arms of the eternal G-d, and rest among the fathers of our people. You were truly the bravest of us all, and the only constant good in a world of fools. May G-d fill you now with the love you were denied on earth, may your name be blessed, and may the hand that slew you be damned for eternity.

  65

  Fourth Day of the Month of Av

  Twenty-second Year of the Reign of Xerxes

  Year 3414 after Creation

  I awoke to the sounds of crying in the dark hours of morning. I had returned to my own chambers the evening before, to wait for the time of my menstrual bleeding to pass. Ashtari stood over my bed, weeping. I looked about in alarm to see what had disturbed her so, but no one else was in my chambers. Something was out of place, and the odd peace shook me awake.

  “What is it, Ashtari?” I implored. “What has happened?”

  She could only cry and look at me with a desolation I had not seen in her eyes before. “I am sorry, my queen. Forgive your servant,” she said quietly. As she dabbed at her eyes, a stunning jewel of size on her finger sparkled even in the dim moonlight.

  My blood ran cold. “What have you done, Ashtari?” I asked.

  She shook her head, and choked out her last words to me, “Go and see your king. You must hurry before the end.”

  As I wrapped my chamber robes around me quickly, she shoved a satchel in my hands. Not waiting for an escort, I threw open my chamber door. Hagai’s body slumped against my shins as I stepped out. He had been run through with a sword, his entrails bulging against the wound. I screamed and flew down the halls until at last I was in Xerxes’ chambers. There were no guards posted at the entrance, and no one was attending him. It was as if all were dead.

  Xerxes lay on his bed, gasping for breath. He smiled a moment when he saw me alive, but his eyes began to close even as I took his hand.

  “No, no, Xerxes, you cannot die! What has happened?” I cried. “Who has done this to you?”

  He rolled his head to see me more clearly as thick spittle ran out of his mouth. It had a sharp odor. “Is it too late, Esther?” he gasped.

  I shook my head in confusion and wiped his brow. My tears fell against the linens on the bed, mixing with his vomit and sweat.

  He tried again. “I want G-d. Your G-d. But I am a man of lust, of idols.”

  “Go to him, Xerxes.” My tears were falling too fast; it was hard for me to talk as well, but I smiled for him, one last smile between lovers. “I have told Him all about you. He says to tell you all will be forgiven; only come home now.”

  Xerxes labored for a last breath, and as he exhaled, he told me nothing more but asked a question. “Did you love me, my Star?”

  “Never more than I do now, my good king.”

  With that, he died. I sat, seeing myself smooth down his covers and touch his face, but unable to master my movements. It was as if someone else was moving my limbs for me. I had the oddest sensation of not being there, of being in a dream. I looked at the floor near the door and realized I had dropped the bundle that Ashtari had shoved to me. It had spilled open, and I could see my diary and a little necklace. It called to me, and as I stared mutely at it, I found its voice, for it was the necklace given to me as a girl by a friend from the market. I had worn it the morning I had been taken from my home to serve in the harem. Ashtari had sent me with the things most dear to me, what I had brought into this palace as a girl. To see them now was like seeing a ghost, the one who comes at night when the old ones are dying, to take their hand for the eternal journey. A little scrap of papyrus caught my eye, for it did not belong. It was not of my hand. I held it to the light and read:

  Forgive me, Esther, and remember me when you go to your G-d. I have only done what I must to buy my freedom from this place. I served you well for all the years you were here. It is only at the end I find I must betray you, but you have led a good and high life. You gave your youth to the king and were so generously rewarded. I gave my youth to you, and now wait with open palms. You cannot begrudge me a brief happiness before my years on earth are over. How ironic that a Jew forced me to this place, and I must now force a Jew from it.

  Do not be shocked that your servant can write and read. I chose never to tell you, for reading your diaries gave me access to people and places a servant cannot go. I knew who would be for me, and who would oppose me. The men who slipped away at dawn are my brothers, who came to Susa to rescue me long ago, but found they, too, had to wait for the seasons to change. In another land they were united with a powerful ally, who arrives tonight to return to the throne. I do
not wish this next evil on you; I only wish you gone.

  I know that you loved me as a sister, and for this affection I granted you a good-bye with your king. But all is finished, and you must ready yourself for the end.

  So it was done. It’s strange that anger has left me, and I find a peace drawing near to me, all around, that grants me the strength to forgive even now. I forgive them. I forgive Ashtari most of all, for she has betrayed me more than most. I do not know if the others, the many who have served me in this palace, are alive or dead, but I will bless them, too. For some of them no doubt loved and yet betrayed, and am I no different? For it seems now I gave my heart only twice in my life, and both times it was too late. We are a fumbling lot, a humanity that distorts the echo of the divine.

  I have fled to a deeper chamber of the palace. I found a pen and began to write. If this is indeed the doing of Artaxerxes, they will be coming for me soon. I am truly to die barren, I know that now, but I must plant a seed to bear fruit for a new generation.[1]

  [1] This date of this entry appears to be two years later, indicating again a gap in the diaries and placing the murder of Xerxes on a different date than some scholars have suggested. The murder of Xerxes was recorded by the royal historians; readers may refer to the Babylonian Astronomical Text. However, because there were three different prominent cultures within the empire, each using a separate calendar, the date given for Xerxes’ execution seems at first to differ between accounts. Babylonian, Hebrew, and Egyptian calendars began recording a new reign only after the next new year, but each marked the new year in different months. The differing dates between scholars have been attributed to these different calendar schemes. A team including forensic archaeologists and epigraphists who have worked on the Dead Sea Scrolls and the ossuary of James has been retained to study the gaps in the diaries; perhaps in later years we will have an answer as to who removed portions of the diary—and why.