Harvest of Rubies (14 page)

No, it will not be all right
, I thought with fierce conviction.

Finally, when my tears had run their course, I found a pitcher of water and scrubbed my face until it was free of the hated cosmetics. Unlike Darius, I did not have the benefit of too much wine to help me into unconsciousness and I stopped in the middle of the king’s sumptuous chamber, wondering what to do to keep from losing my mind.

Abandoned on a table I spied Nehemiah’s wedding gift and picked it up. The papyrus was rolled over wooden cylinders, decorated with ivory carvings in the shape of lotus flowers on both ends. Darius’s rough handling had damaged the papyrus, but with the right tools, I would be able to repair it.

For long years the children of Israel had memorized the sacred words of our prophets and leaders. But in recent times, Jewish scribes had begun to record our law and Holy Scriptures. Copies such as the one Nehemiah had given to Darius were rare and priceless.

Nehemiah’s words echoed in my mind, evoking a flood of guilt as he no doubt had intended that they should:
Your wife also
used to
have a particular liking for them in her childhood
. Once, I had recited the words in this scroll with childish wonder and awe. I had believed in their promises. I had cherished their wisdom about God and humanity. But my mother’s death changed everything.

I had few memories left of my mother. One memory lingered vividly, however. When she grew sick, she often asked me to recite the psalms. It was on one such occasion that Nehemiah had seen us.

In my childish fervor, I had recited the words of the psalm as a prayer, and told myself that I could trust God’s promise to be an
ever-present
help in trouble. That I could accept such a promise on face value. So I asked His help for my ailing mother. I asked for it with a child’s confidence and hope.

My mother died. Hollering in pain. I could no longer remember the color of her eyes, or the shape of her cheeks, or the touch of her loving hands. But I remembered those screams.

I did not understand why God would allow one of the sweetest creatures who ever lived on His earth to go through such agony. Initially, I had shielded my questions. I had held on to my faith. With grim determination I had prayed for my father’s love. With David I whispered:
Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart
. Only, He hadn’t.

At that point I stopped reciting the Scriptures and relying on the Lord. I still kept the outward form of the Law when possible, living amongst Gentiles as I was, but my heart no longer made room for God. I learned it was far better to rely on myself. I became the guardian of my own safety, the builder of my own dreams. It seemed to me that my strength, my cleverness, my abilities proved far more reliable than God’s ever-present help.

Except that they hadn’t, of course. That’s why I was in this chamber, with a resentful stranger for a husband and a bitter future that promised no joy. I had reaped what I had
sown with my own hands. This was the reward of my strength and my talent.

Now I had no help: not from myself, nor from God. Despair overwhelmed me, and I sat clenched in its brutal claw hour after hour that night, so that I came to a place almost past hope and past endurance.

Just after dawn the queen sent her handmaiden for me. Darius still slept when I left. I had known this interview would come, though I was surprised at the hour of it; Damaspia was not in the habit of being awake at the rising of the sun. She met with me alone, still wearing her garments from the previous evening, and I realized that she had not been to bed yet. I noticed her loose hair, her smudged eyes and bruised lips, and amended my conclusion; she had not been to
her
bed.

I prostrated myself and said with my face lying half against the cold marble and half on the edge of the silky carpet, “Forgive me,
duksis.”

She turned her back to me. “
Why?
Why would you embarrass me like that? Why would you go to such lengths to make yourself and me and your new husband appear ridiculous before the whole court? I thought of you as a loyal
friend
. How could you betray my trust in you?”

Her words made me want to give in to another storm of weeping. I swallowed the tears, knowing she would have no patience for them. “I never meant to harm anyone, least of all you, my queen. My great fault was my ignorance; I would never willingly betray you.”

“Your ignorance! What did you lack that I did not give you? Did I not provide you with more riches than you deserve in order to overcome that ignorance? Did I not send you my own servants to help prepare you for your wedding? It never occurred to me that you would be so stupid as to turn them
away. If it had not been for Amestris’s impending visit, I would have discovered your deceit and put a quick end to it. But that woman turned my household inside out by the threat of her mere presence.

“Still, my servants shall have to face my wrath for their disobedience. They should have seen through your excuses and insisted on doing their job.”

Her reference to the serving women, especially Pari, caused my whole body to tense. It was the one reason I had wanted to come to Damaspia. I knew she would not heed my excuses about my own conduct. These women, however, were innocents caught in the net of my foolishness. I had to try to help them.

“Your Majesty, it was not their fault. I lied to them. I said I already had help. Pari was not deceived and returned four days in a row to try and help me. I sent her away every day, thinking myself too busy. And that final day I insisted to her that I could prepare myself, and in my arrogance, I truly believed that I could. She had no choice but to obey me.”

“So, you admit to lying. Not to mention that in the meantime, you were busy trying to throw my gift back in my face.”

Guilt kept me silent and Damaspia bobbed her head up and down. “Busy wriggling out of the marriage I had chosen for you. Yes, I knew about that. And I am half convinced that last night was not a matter of naïve ignorance so much as one final ploy on your part to escape this union. Perhaps you hoped that your bridegroom would put a stop to the marriage once he saw you?”

I gasped and lifted my head from the floor. “No, Your Majesty! What would such a ploy have gained me but your wrath? I would have devised a better plan, if that had been my intention.”

The corners of Damaspia’s mouth quivered. “That’s the first time anyone has told me they could concoct a better plot against me than I can think of.” She folded her long limbs into her gilded chair. “Oh, stand up. You look ridiculous down there.”

I scrambled to my feet. “Thank you,
duksis.”

“So you are really
that
incompetent?”

“I’m afraid so, Your Majesty.”

“Artaxerxes thought so. When I railed against you, he championed your innocence; for some reason he took a liking to you. He also bet me a gold coin that Darius would not consummate the marriage. Did he win?”

To have the most humiliating experience of my life the subject of a royal bet seemed a fitting conclusion to the last twenty-four hours. “The king won.”

With a sluggish movement of long limbs she twisted on her chair to make herself more comfortable; it occurred to me that she must be exhausted. Her voice was as strong as ever as she addressed me, however. “No more than you deserve. You would have scared a child last night. For such a brilliant woman you certainly can be a dolt.” Meticulously groomed fingernails drummed on the armrest. “Well, let’s see if we can undo the damage you have wrought.”

“It’s beyond repair,” I blurted.

“As we have already established you are extraordinarily incompetent in such matters I believe we shall disregard your opinion.”

“Yes, Majesty.” She was wrong, of course. But I couldn’t tell her that. I was already in more than enough trouble.

“Now, regarding Pari. If she suspected you of lying, she should have reported it to the chief handmaiden. Obviously, she failed to do so, or I would have heard about it.”

I gasped, horrified that in my attempt to prove Pari’s innocence, I had caused more trouble for her. “But …”

Damaspia waved a silencing hand. “Since she sees fit to obey you over me, she can leave my employ and enter yours. You shall have to pay for her, of course. You still haven’t collected the full wages you have saved over the past three years. From that sum you shall pay for Pari’s training, for her clothing and food during her entire stay at the palace, for a year’s upcoming salary, and for damages to me, given the inconvenience you cause by taking one of my servants from my household. This does not leave you with much, I believe.”

“Your Majesty is most generous,” I said, unable to make my face match my grateful words.

She laughed. “I am doing you a favor, sending your own servant with you into a household where you may not find a friend for some time.”

I saw the wisdom of her actions, though they cost me too dear, and said with more genuine feeling this time, “My thanks.”

“You shall spend the rest of today preparing as a bride. I myself spent a year getting ready for my marriage to the king, so one day will hardly suffice. It is a start, however.”

I tried to hide my dread, though not well enough. Damaspia rolled her beautiful eyes. “Don’t be such an infant, Sarah.”

“I shall do my best.”

“I leave for Ecbatana tomorrow with the rest of the court. Shall you and Darius be joining us?”

“I don’t know, Your Majesty.”

“I see. I don’t suppose Darius would have been in a mood to wax eloquent about his future plans last night.”

“Not exactly.” Her question only reiterated how little control I had over my future … and how little knowledge of it.

The queen frowned and bit her lip. “Do come and visit me if he brings you. I should like to know how you progress.”

E
vening had long since fallen when I wound my way back to the chamber the king had assigned to Darius and me. Pari walked in my wake, her small bundle of worldly goods clutched against her chest. The poor girl had just lost her father, and now thanks to me, a position she had loved. Yet she had not murmured one word of complaint since I had fetched her an hour before. She turned her long, slim neck my way and startled me with a pale smile. She might be unhappy, she seemed to say, but she didn’t hold me responsible. In the whole palace, she must have been the one person who didn’t hold me accountable for some grave failing. I cannot express how dear that made her to me.

My skin smarted everywhere; I had been waxed, plucked, rubbed, sanded, and oiled for the better part of the day. Instead of looking rosy and soft, I was now covered in red welts from my face to my toes. My skin, unused to such rigors, had responded by breaking out into unattractive, angry-looking bumps.

At the door of the chamber a sleepy servant came to attention as I approached. “My lady! Lord Darius said you are to join him at home when the queen dismissed you. I am to take you there directly. Your belongings have already been sent ahead.”

Relief flooded me at the thought of two more hours without having to face my husband. While in the women’s quarters, something of Damaspia’s strength and the familiarity of my surroundings had buoyed my spirit. That thin veneer of hope vanished the closer his plush cart drew me to his palace.

We had been riding for an hour when Darius’s man informed me that we had entered the boundary of his lands. In the dark, I could make out the vague outline of farms. It was common for the aristocracy to lease land to farmers and give them seed and supplies in exchange for a portion of the harvest, so I was not surprised by the cultivated land. What did surprise me was how much of it there was. We rode a full hour before approaching Darius’s personal estate and gardens. My husband was wealthier than I had imagined. I found the thought depressing. How could I fit into such a world as a mistress rather than a servant? I had even less in common with Darius than I had assumed.

In the dark, my new home seemed menacingly large. Marble walls and fluted limestone columns shone an eerie white in the moonlight. My husband’s palace was every bit as overbearing as he was himself. The steward, a tall thin-lipped man with a lantern for a jaw, met me at the door. His eyes, cold and dark, held no welcome for me. He told me that Lord Darius awaited me in the great hall and showed me there in person. His manner, though impeccable, left no doubt that he held no welcome for me. I sent Pari to find my room and prepare it for my arrival as best she could.

Bereft of excuses for delaying the upcoming interview, I
allowed the steward to show me to the hall. The light of many lamps blazed in the large room so that I was momentarily blinded when I walked in.