Game of Queens

by India Edghill

It was only when I had passed through the gate and was walking down the corridor that led to the golden doors that I realized who Vashti had sounded like.

  She’d sounded like me.

  * * *

  I lived now in dreamtime, flowing and elusive. Torchlight flared; shadows fled as I passed. I walked forward, steadily, until I stood at last before the entrance to the king’s chamber.

  Guards barred my path; I waited, and they pulled open the great golden doors. Beyond lay lamplight and darkness.

  I walked through the doorway, making myself move without haste. My blood beat so hard that the wild rush of it echoed in my ears. As the doors closed behind me, I bowed, and waited.

  “Approach, Esther.” The king’s voice, at last.

  I don’t know why the fact that he knew my name surprised me. Of course he would know. The true surprise was that he chose to use it.

  I lifted my head and paced toward him; slow, deliberate strides, like a hunting cat’s. When I was an arm’s length away from him, I stopped, and bowed again.

  “So you are my next queen.” Ahasuerus regarded me almost angrily; a proud, wary lion. I bowed my head.

  “Only if the King of Kings wishes it.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Truly? How odd—I have been told by she who was once my queen that I must choose Esther.”

  He sought to shock me; I found myself smiling. “I hope Vashti was more tactful than that.”

  “You know?” The subtle anger vanished; he regarded me with a kinder interest.

  “Yes.” I hoped he liked plain speaking as much as Vashti had assured me he did. “And I told Vashti she should simply tell you. She had a great many very convoluted schemes for my success—”

  To my surprise, Ahasuerus laughed. “Oh, I have no doubt she did! Vashti never did have any sense at all.”

  “But she was never taught to have any sense, my lord king. It must be learned, like any other skill.” Not the conversation I had dreamt of having with my heart’s delight, but I sensed only truth would serve—and I yearned to hear Ahasuerus laugh again.

  “And I suppose you have many skills, Esther?” Now he sounded sullen, almost as if he expected a rebuke. Although who would dare rebuke the King of Kings—

  Amestris. The Queen Mother; of course. Well, I have no intention of becoming Ahasuerus’s mother!

  Again I answered plainly, keeping my voice serene. “I do, my lord king.” I then counted my heartbeats, waiting for him to speak first.

  “Well, name them.” Ahasuerus sounded both intrigued and impatient.

  Poor man. This contest must be hard on him. Obedient to his command, I began to number my talents, using my fingers as counters.

  “I can speak Median, Persian, and Aramaic. I read Persian, Aramaic, Sumerian, and Elamite. I add sums, and call the stars by name. I play the small harp and the flute. Those I do well. I can weave and bake, not so well. I can order a household. I write poems. And I can ride a horse—although I have not done so in many years. That I did best of all.”

  “An impressive list. And if I call in my chief scribe and ask you to speak to him in Median?”

  “I will do so, my lord king—although it seems a sad waste of what may be our only night together.”

  Startled into laughter, Ahasuerus beckoned me closer. I wondered if he even noticed my sandalwood-scented body through the cloud-drift gown, or admired my nightfire hair. “Come,” he said, “sit by me.”

  He sat upon the edge of the massive bed, so I sank down to sit by his feet. There I could lean against his thigh, look up into his face. If he objected, he had only to order me away. He did not.

  “Vashti says,” he began, then stopped. After a breath, he said, “Does it trouble you, that I speak of—”

  “Of Vashti? Why should it trouble me? I love her dearly; she is as a sister to me. A rather sweetly overenthusiastic sister at times, I grant. But a sister nonetheless.”

  “Vashti tells me I should choose you as my next queen.”

  As your wife. Choose me as your wife, my love.

  “She tells me also that you love me. It is easy to love the king. Every maiden who has come to this chamber has loved the king.”

  I looked up into his earth-brown eyes and thought that every other maiden had been a fool. I wish you were not the king, Ahasuerus. I wish—I wish you were a horse-farmer in the Vale of Karoun. But I said only,

  “We all love the king, my lord. I love the king most dutifully.”

  I saw understanding spark in his eyes. He doubted; wished to believe, yet feared lest what I promised prove false.

  Ahasuerus reached down and put two fingers under my chin, tilted my head back. Coals of fire scorched my skin where he touched me.

  “And do you think I believe this tale that you looked upon me and loved me at once with all your heart?”

  “I think you are King of Kings, and so must be very tired of being told—oh so subtly—what you must do, or not do. I think you are weary of being manipulated. So I told Vashti to tell you the truth. I will always tell you the truth.”

  “Always?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “The truth then—what would you do if I said to you now, ‘Esther, I do not choose you. You are free. Go and do whatsoever you wish.’”

  If he did not choose me, if he ordered me to go. To be free—

  “I have a farm,” I said. “A horse farm in the Vale of Karoun. I would go there and raise horses, as my father did.”

  “A horse farm?” This seemed to intrigue him. “Why then are you here, in Shushan?”

  I sighed, and dared press my cheek against his thigh. When he neither shifted away nor ordered me back, I allowed myself to savor the warmth of his skin beneath the heavy fluid silk he wore. “I am here in Shushan because my father died, and my cousin, who is my guardian, thought horse-farming not a suitable occupation for a woman. Nothing,” I added, “is a suitable occupation for a woman, save to marry and bear children.”

  “Is that what you truly wish, then? Shall I let you go?”

  I hesitated, and he said, “You promised me the truth, Esther.”

  “No,” I said. I could barely hear my own voice. “Do not let me go. I loved you as soon as I saw you. If you deny me, it will rip the heart from my breast.”

  He looked at me with those night-dark eyes; slowly, he leaned down toward me. Oh, yes, I thought. Yes. And I swayed upward, drawn to him by his eyes—and his hands, firm and gentle on my arms.

  My lips touched his. And then I stopped thinking about anything at all.

  VASHTI

  The moment Ahasuerus walked into my garden the morning after Esther’s night, I knew my plan had succeeded far beyond my hopeful dreams. His heart, as well as his mind, had chosen Esther. He looked—different. I tried to see what had changed. His eyes, his smile? The way he moved?

  I bowed as he came toward me.

  “Rise, Vashti.” He took my hands as I rose and gazed into his eyes. Happiness, bright and clear. “I came to tell you—”

  “That you have chosen wisely?” I teased, testing his mood.

  He laughed. “That you have chosen wisely. As has Hegai. And Esther—” He stopped, clearly unsure what he should say now.

  I knew he feared to wound my heart, but he could do that only if he no longer had any fondness for me. For that was what we had, Ahasuerus and I: the fond love of a brother and sister who were dear to one another. But that was all.

  “Esther loved you the moment she set her eyes upon you,” I said. “And you? Tell me what you thought when you first looked upon her.”

  When I asked that, he seemed to glow radiant as the sun. “It was not when I looked upon her, Vashti—although she is very beautiful. Like a dark flame. It was when she spoke. She is wise, and kind, and clever. Do you know her father raised horses?”

  I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Yes, Ahasuerus, I know that. Come, sit with me and tell me all about it.” I had heard Esther’s shy, joyful tale of her night
with the king, and now it was the king’s turn to unveil the story to me.

  So we sat upon the alabaster bench in my garden, warmed by the pale clear sun, surrounded by the scent of lilacs, and Ahasuerus eagerly told over the story of his night with Esther. Fortunately, I already had the story of that night of nights from Esther herself, for Ahasuerus revealed very little, save that his heart and Esther’s beat as one, and that no woman in all the wide world compared with Esther for wisdom and warmth.

  “And she agreed to be my wife,” Ahasuerus finished, marveling at so great a wonder.

  He looked so happy my heart ached; a wistful longing for what he and I never had known together. Smiling, I took his hands and kissed them. “Oh, my lion-hearted brother, I am so happy for you and for her. When is the wedding to take place?”

  “This very hour, if that were possible. As it is, it will be as soon as my mother can arrange the ceremony.”

  I longed to order the wedding myself, but held my tongue. To arrange his wedding ceremonies truly was his mother’s duty and right.

  “I have a boon to ask of you, Vashti.”

  “Anything, of course.”

  Ahasuerus put his hands on my shoulders and kissed my forehead. “No man could ask for a better, dearer sister! You are the first I have told, no one yet knows save Esther, and me.”

  I do not know how I kept from laughing. All anyone need do was look at him to know that last night had changed his heart and his life. And Esther had told only me, and Hegai, but she glowed like sunlight on the mountains. I think every person in the Women’s Palace and the Queen’s Palace knew by now that the queen’s crown would rest on Esther’s head.

  “I am grateful for the king’s kindness. What does my lord king desire of me? You know I will do anything I can to aid you.”

  Ahasuerus smiled. “Will you tell my mother I have chosen Esther of Shushan as my queen and my wife? And ask her to begin preparations for the wedding at once?”

  * * *

  I took unworthy delight in begging an audience with Queen Mother Amestris, and I drove my handmaidens half-mad as I decided on and then discarded garments. At last Hegai took charge, and so I went before Amestris clad in a gown of gold-woven cloth and a vest of Cathay silk dyed with true Tyrian purple—the color permitted only to those of royal blood and rank.

  I might no longer be queen, but I remained a daughter of the royal house of Babylon. And I am Ishvari’s granddaughter.

  “My lady princess might consider a less gleeful smile before she goes to the Queen Mother,” Hegai suggested, “for at the moment my lady princess looks like a marmoset stuck in a honey-pot.”

  I laughed and stretched upward to kiss his cheek. “The Keeper of the King’s Women is most wondrous wise! Oh, and send for Tandis and Barsine—I wish them to attend me when I visit the Queen Mother.”

  Hegai sighed, but I saw him struggle against his own laughter. “You wish them dressed alike, I suppose?”

  “Yes—now you may help me decide what they should wear. I must impress the Queen Mother properly, you know.”

  “Yes, my princess.” Hegai abandoned his effort and smiled back at me; light seemed to dance in his dark amber eyes. “I know.”

  * * *

  So, dressed like a queen and attended by two princesses gowned in gold and silver, I presented myself at the gate to the Queen Mother’s garden. I wished Hegai had also escorted me, but he had deemed it wiser to remain out of Amestris’s sight. “I am known for cleverness, and you are not,” Hegai had said.

  I agreed; Amestris had raised me to be a frivolous, foolish girl, a pawn easily manipulated. But I now struggled to become more. It’s my turn to play, not be played.

  Of course Amestris knew already that Ahasuerus had made his choice. I had never doubted that; she had doubtless known before Ahasuerus left his bedchamber that morning. And the knowledge infuriated her.

  “Vashti, how fortunate that you chose this time to visit me. Come and sit by me now and tell me what Ahasuerus said to you this morning.” Amestris waved me closer. “Well, make haste. I must know how bad the matter is.”

  Tell you what my dear brother Ahasuerus confided to me? No. I drew my brows together, as if puzzling out her order. “Bad? But it’s wonderful! Again the king has a queen. After forty nights—I thought he never would choose!”

  Amestris stared at me; thin lines radiated from the corners of her mouth. “Vashti, you always were a fool. Do you not realize—no, of course you don’t. There’s nothing in your head but clouds and air.”

  Once her harsh words would have whipped tears to my eyes. Now I wanted to laugh—but I did not. I think I managed to look quite as foolishly baffled as she thought me. “But my lady queen, the maidens came to the palace so that my lord brother the king might judge them. What is wrong? Do you not like Queen Esther?”

  For one delightful heartbeat, it seemed Amestris might melt from fury. “Queen Esther? Queen of one night! Who is this conniving girl? Who are her people? Where does she come from?”

  I answered as if Amestris truly wished to gain this knowledge from me. “Her name is Esther, and she comes from here, from Shushan itself. She is—”

  Amestris turned on me, her eyes fiery as a basilisk’s. “I know her name is Esther, you silly girl. From Shushan itself. And I know she is the ward of Mordecai the Scribe, and anything else there is to know about her I will know before nightfall. As for her becoming queen—” Amestris shook her head. “A nameless thing with nothing but beauty? For all your faults, you at least are Belshazzar’s granddaughter!”

  “Ishvari’s,” I said.

  “What?” For once, Amestris seemed taken aback.

  “I am Queen Ishvari’s granddaughter, too.”

  “Queen Ishvari? What does she matter? She’s been dead these forty years! You are too foolish, girl.” Amestris looked past me, at Tandis and Barsine standing quiet by the gate. I saw the corner of Tandis’s mouth quiver, and shook my head very slightly; Tandis bit her lower lip and gazed modestly at the ground. Amestris raised her hands as if supplicating the gods. “Oh, why could that silly boy not choose one of Prince Shethar’s daughters? Now, what am I to do about this appalling wedding?”

  For even Amestris could do nothing, now that the king’s choice had been proclaimed, save follow the rules laid down for royal rites. The king had decreed a wedding; a wedding there would be.

  I stared at my feet; counted the poppies embroidered upon my golden slippers. When I thought I could keep my face smooth and my voice meek, I said, “I could help, perhaps.” A timid offering, as if I expected a rebuff. “You know I planned the search for the new queen.” Now I made my voice earnest, while searching my mind for the words that would ensure Amestris gave me the task of planning Ahasuerus and Esther’s wedding. I found them. “And—and I would do just as well at this task!”

  Amestris stared at me, clearly appalled. Then, slowly, she smiled. “Why, yes, Vashti. Perhaps you would.”

  Now I produced a delighted smile, as if Amestris had just granted me the world to rule as I saw fit. “Oh, I will, I will! And I vow to consult you on everything needful.”

  Amestris waved this aside. “I am quite certain that your decisions will prove everything I could desire, my dear. Do just as you think best.”

  And that is how it came to pass that I, Vashti, the set-aside and disgraced queen, managed the wedding of Ahasuerus, Lord of Media and Persia, King of Kings, to Esther, a Jewish maiden of the ancient city of Shushan.

  ESTHER

  After my night with the king, the next seven days seemed to rush past like a stream in spring flood. I did not see Ahasuerus again until our wedding day, but he never vanished from my thoughts and dreams.

  To my surprise, it was Vashti who managed to have me standing with my hands in Ahasuerus’s, vowing I would honor and obey him always as my husband, within a week’s time. When she put her mind to it, Vashti could ignore obstacles with the single-mindedness of a monkey set upon obtaining the moon from
the bottom of a well. And although the monkey might fall and drown while reaching for that illusory image, Vashti succeeded in her determination that Ahasuerus and I have a lavish royal wedding—

  “One to make the entire empire forget his and mine,” she said. “You need do nothing, Esther, save look beautiful and say a few words before the Sacred Flame. Here, I wrote them down for you.” She shoved a scrap of papyrus into my hand and then ran off again.

  Not a monkey, I remember thinking on that occasion, a mongoose.…

  I was glad for someone else to take on the work of organizing my wedding, for I had enough and more to do. The moment my name was announced as the new Queen of Persia, the rooms, the garments, the gems that had been riches beyond my imagining became unworthy of me. No longer did I live in the best apartments in the Women’s Palace; I was led back from my night with the king to the Queen’s Palace.

  For the Queen’s Palace now was mine.

  And a dozen dozen new servants were now mine, although I demanded, and got, my own servants to serve me closest. “I know I will have many others,” I said, “but those who have cared for me lovingly and loyally this past year shall always hold the highest rank in my affections.”

  Then I demanded, and received, a promise that Vashti would not be forced to leave the Queen’s Palace. That she would continue to live in the apartments that had been her home since she was ten years old.

  “There is room enough for a dozen queens in this palace,” I told Hegai, “and I will not evict Vashti from her own rooms. Tell everyone I turned my nose up at them and called them second-rate and second-hand, and that I demanded apartments of my own decorated to please myself.”

  “Extravagantly?” Hegai suggested, and I raised my eyebrows and replied,

  “Of course. Beyond dreams.”

  I meant it for a jest, but the jest became truth. I was Queen of Queens; anything I could even dream to wish for was mine for the asking. The trouble was that I could think of little I wished for, save to hold Ahasuerus in my arms. When I confessed this to my eunuch Hatach, he shook his head, appalled at my folly.

  “Well for the sake of peace, don’t tell him that, O queen!” Hatach fussed over my hair himself, proud of the fact that he was now chief chamberlain to the Queen of Queens, ruler of the Queen’s Palace. This elevation pleased Hatach immensely, and made him thrice as fretful.