Esther (19 page)

I remembered the goblet too late.

It clattered against the column. I held my breath, afraid that any movement might draw the Immortals' gazes to me. Bigthan was afraid of them, and I knew he would not come to my aid, but Ruti might rush from the doorway to fetch up the goblet. I hated to think of how the Immortals might treat an old serving woman if they found her on her hands and knees in the courtyard.

When Ruti did not come, and the soldiers continued talking amongst themselves, I thought that perhaps no one had heard the goblet clatter upon the tiles. I peeked around the column.

Parsha and the other Immortals continued walking toward the inner courtyard. All except Erez, who was squinting in my direction.

I did not give myself time to think better of it—I reached my hand up to my neck to lift the Faravahar out from under my robe and set it against my chest. It was small, and in any case it was not unusual for someone to wear a Faravahar, yet Erez looked into the slit of my veil, at my eyes. He came to a halt.

The Immortal behind Erez stumbled off to the side of the path, onto some polished stones, to avoid crashing into Erez. The others slowed to laugh at the soldier.

Erez took a deep breath and started walking again. But he stole a couple of glances back at me, and he did not move as quickly as before.

“Have your sandals filled with rocks to make you walk so slow? Or are you suddenly shy of your master?” Parsha asked.

“He is your master as well,” Erez said.

“But I do not serve him as you do, without promise of anything in return. You will march to your death—”

“I can think of no better way.”

“—sooner than later.”

Though he walked slowly he did not stop, and soon I watched him disappear into the inner courtyard.

Ruti's voice came from behind me.
“
They have gone to guard the king, and will not be out again tonight.” I turned to look at her, and she moved her gaze from where Erez had disappeared to my face. “Soldiers should not be able to put a girl who hopes to be queen in such a trance.”

That night my heartbeat seemed to quicken with each new thought. I was filled with a strange, fearful elation at seeing Erez. But the elation was diminished by fear that Haman might somehow successfully convince the king to kill the Jews. I was angry at Xerxes himself for giving power to a person as serpentine as Haman. How could an intelligent king possibly trust in the counsel of such a man? And yet, Erez was loyal to this king.

Soldiers were never taught to read, so it would do no good to write Erez a note. But perhaps just the sight of me could compel him to think of my people and how he might help us. After my bath, when I told Ruti where we were going, she said, “What foolishness is this?”

“A foolishness that might save our people. Parsha may speak again of his father's plans while crossing the courtyard, and so that is where we must be.” I did not mention Erez.

“If Parsha sees you, your veil will not save you from his cruelty.”

“He would not touch what belongs to the king.”

“The king will not restrain them while he is so full of fear for his own life. He believes they are the best guards in the empire. Do not think they will leave you alone because you are the king's. The king cares more for them than for you, and you are not yet in a position to change that.”

I sat behind the column where I had hidden the day before, ignoring the irritated look from Bigthan. Ruti had made me promise to eat all I could, so I forced lamb, dates, and honey past the lump in my throat. I used wine to help it into my belly.

After the sun had climbed to the top of the sky, Ruti came and stood next to me. This time I heard her approach. “Mistress, surely you will have to go to the baths again if you sit out here much longer. The perfumes of roses and almonds I massaged into your skin have probably been carried away by the breeze.” She dropped her voice to a whisper, “And I do not think being here is a good idea. If you are degraded or soiled in any way, we are ruined.”

“I will not go now. I am relaxing in the fresh air.”

“You do not seem very relaxed. I am worried for your neck because of how you keep craning it around this column.”

“Ruti, please return to the doorway. After you refill my goblet.”

“Very well. I will get you more meat and nuts as well. We must continue to bring forth a woman's softness from your flesh. The king is not Greek. He does not want a little boy in his bed.”

I knew that some Persian men lay with eunuchs or boys, but I had not heard this of Xerxes. I ate as much as I could. Despite Ruti's constant complaining that I was too thin, my body had grown as soft and lush as those of the concubines. Perhaps the king had not yet made me a woman, but I looked like one. I felt the confidence that comes from taking up more space in the world.

When the sun was almost directly overhead, Erez walked into the Women's Courtyard from the inner courtyard. He looked to where I sat and nearly came to a halt.

“Have you seen a ghost, Erez? One of the men you killed come to pull your intestines out your nostrils and feed them back to you?”

Another said, “That is why all but the most foolish soldier will only kill from a great distance or by thrusting a dagger into a man's back, so the man will not lurk in this world looking for the face of the soldier who killed him. But it is too late for you, Erez. You may as well start giving away your possessions. No, excuse me, I forgot. You have none.”

While the men laughed, Erez and I stared at each other, neither of us smiling. There was a hardness in his eyes that scared me. He appeared to have fallen into a trance. Who was it he saw—an ally, an enemy? Me, or someone else?

And then something did come across his eyes. Sadness. It is what the hardness had hidden.

When the other Immortals caught up to Erez the hardness returned. He hurried to try to get in front of them as they continued on the path.

Parsha paused to see what had caused Erez to slow his pace. His eyes fell upon me. “This is what brings you to a halt?” He came toward me, trampling the tulips, hyacinths, narcissuses, and crocuses that lay between us. Erez hurried after him but the other soldiers blocked him. I smelled the stale stench of Parsha's unwashed skin as he bent to look at me. He came so close that his face was all I could see. His lips were chapped and he had pockmarks on his cheeks and jaw. His eyes were cold except for a cruel, playful glint.

“Is it not hot in there, maiden? I think I can see your breath coming through the little slit in your sack. Take it off. We will tell no one.”

Ruti came rushing up beside me. “This is your future queen,
soldier
.”

He stood so that he towered over Ruti. “Or a girl who will have the honor of following in our train with the other concubines.”

I was surprised to hear Bigthan yell, “Get away from her! I will tell the king!” He did not come near, though. This made Parsha laugh.

He turned and went back along the path of trampled flowers. I saw that Erez had pushed through the other soldiers and that he was coming toward us. He stepped into Parsha's path. Perhaps to preserve his dignity, Parsha did not avoid Erez completely as he stepped around him. He threw his shoulder into Erez's. Instead of moving Erez from the path, this only caused Parsha himself to stumble. Erez watched without emotion as Parsha righted himself and continued walking away as though nothing had happened. He and the other soldiers walked toward the Western Gate and then disappeared through it, leaving Erez behind.

Erez's face was flushed and cords stood out in his neck. Still, I was going to ask him if he would find out all he could of Haman's plans. And I wanted to ask him if he had missed me. But his dark eyes were not full of affection or even kindness. He narrowed them so severely at me that I saw only the blacks of his irises.

“We need your hel—”

“You should find a different place to spend your days,” he said.

I could not have responded even if he had given me the chance. He didn't. He turned and walked away. I watched his broad back get smaller and smaller and then disappear through the Western Gate.

That night, as on so many others, I did not sleep. I had hoped there might be some way, besides making the king fall in love with me, to save my people. What if the king did not like me, much less love me? If Erez, the one man who I thought cared for me the way a man cares for a woman, did not wish to see me, how could I expect the king to choose me from among hundreds of girls?

But perhaps Erez did care for me. Perhaps he was lying awake, or standing guard somewhere, thinking of me, and wishing he had spoken more gently. Perhaps he was even thinking of how he might learn more of Haman's plot so he could tell me of it.

The next day I went back to the courtyard and returned to the same spot behind the column that I had sat in the day before.

My heart leapt when he came by himself, walking quickly from the inner courtyard. But as he continued without slowing his pace I knew he did not want to see me.

“Is that the same sack as yesterday?” I heard Parsha call from where he must have just entered the courtyard. I did not look at him. I watched Erez approach with his eyes directly ahead of him.

Do not ignore me. Did you not give me your Faravahar because you cared for me?

He passed not more than ten cubits in front of me. I kept my eyes upon him, willing him to look back. He was almost to the Western Gate.

“I promise I will try not to recoil if you take off your sack,” Parsha said from what sounded like not more than a few cubits away.

My heart swelled as Erez turned around and began walking toward Parsha. Was he returning to make certain Parsha did not harm me? I did not get to find out.

Parsha continued, “I have not seen anything truly interesting since Erez slaughtered a child and blood poured from the boy's eyes.”

Erez stopped.

From the corner of the slit in my veil I saw that Parsha had begun walking again, and that the other Immortals followed. Erez remained as still as a stone as he waited for them to pass.

My heart ached for him. I hoped that he would look at me again. I would use my eyes to tell him that surely God had forgiven him.

But when the footsteps of the other Immortals could no longer be heard, he turned around and walked from the courtyard.

Perhaps helping my people would free him from the shadows that have fallen over his face.

I continued to wait for him each day, and watched as he walked past. He did not look at me, except every once in a while, so briefly I hardly saw into his eyes. I could not read the darkness there. He seemed to be flinching from something. Perhaps the memory of the boy. Perhaps from me.

Though I knew that he would not stop to talk, and he would not acknowledge me, I could not keep from going to the courtyard each day and waiting for him to walk by, gaze trained like an arrow, unwavering, upon his destination.

When only three weeks remained until my night with the king, the cut in my palm began to burn so hot that during the night I woke to my own screams. It had never been able to heal all the way, and I had reopened it a few days before. The golden plate that covered it now felt many times too small. I tried to tear it off, but this was a task too great for only one hand.

“What goes on here?” Ruti said as she came near. “I thought surely someone was trying to slice your throat open.” She unlatched the chain and stepped back. “Oh.”

I had never before seen her step away from any task. I looked at my palm in the low light of the oil lamps. The bandage the physician had applied a few days earlier was stuck to my palm with blood and something else. Something sticky and yellow. I yanked the bandage off, as if to allow the pain to escape.

“No,”
Ruti cried. “Do not look!”

I was stunned by the pain. My head burst into flames, and my body flew in all directions at once.