Jewel of Persia (25 page)

Victory could not come as long as Xerxes was ruled by the Jewish witch. “Ahura Mazda, show us how to serve you in this. Use your servants to rid the empire of this poison. Let not another day pass without demonstrating your might. Let your presence overshadow the king so that he might recognize the enemy beside him. Let your presence overshadow them all.”

~*~

Sardis, Lydia

Haman followed the invisible tug, let his feet go where they willed. There was still much to do before they set off for Abydus in half an hour’s time, much he should attend to. But the pull on his spirit was too strong to ignore.

He found himself outside the palace. His gaze tracked to the solitary figure gripping the wall.

The Jewess. All alone.

Purpose surged through him. One push, that was all it would take to send her over the wall and to her death on the rocks below. But he took only a step before a distant bark broke through the fog in his mind. He saw the dog nowhere, but still fear battled his determination. She was not truly alone, surely. One of her guards always lingered nearby, as well as that snarling beast. He could not . . . he dare not . . .

He closed his eyes. “My god, if this is what you would have me do, you must help me. Send one of your servants to fill me with your might.”

One second, he felt only his own wavering resolve. In the next, he jerked, gasped, and knew he was not alone in the shell of his body. His arms, when he lifted them, felt doubly strong. His legs, when he stepped, seemed to shake the very earth. His eyes, when they focused on the Jewess, sent an arrow of pure hatred straight to his heart.

Enemy of the god! He felt his lips peel back, felt his soul vibrate in expectation with each thundering footfall.

The god must have stopped her ears, for she did not seem to hear him coming. Her fingers gripped the stone until her knuckles went white. Perhaps her soul recognized damnation yawning before her.

No hesitation now. His arms came up, his muscles coiled, ready to pounce. A blood-curdling cry spilled from his lips as he lunged.

And a single refrain echoed through his mind—
Let your presence overshadow us!

Nineteen

The earth rushed up to attack her. Stones hurled themselves at her, branches stretched for a chance to scratch and gouge. Kasia’s ears still rang with the yell of doom—a second cry tangled with it, one of agonizing fear. Hers.

The world spun, a confused mass of soil and sky, rock and tree. She tried to pull arms and legs up to protect her abdomen, but the cruel ground tugged them loose again.

With stillness came a sickening crack in her head. The crags and crevices of the boulder underneath her dug into tender flesh. She tried to take a breath—it seared her chest like fire.

And like smoke, darkness surged over the sky.

Was this death? This slinking, slithering blackness that descended from above until all light was blotted out? Did her vision dim, or the heavens themselves?

She wanted to lift her arms, to settle her hands on the precious life within her womb, but the heavy limbs would not obey her. Everything wavered, winked.

“No.” She struggled to sit up but could only lie there and watch the darkness come. “Jehovah—”

The muscles in her abdomen fisted, screamed. Tears blurred the edges of the darkness. “Jehovah, save me.”

A streak of blinding white pierced the blackened sky.

~*~

Had he gone blind? Half wondering if he dreamed, Xerxes spun around. Blackness, everywhere. “Zethar!”

“Here, master.” His servant’s usually-strong voice shook. “What manner of devil is this? The sun shone brightly a moment ago—the sky was cloudless.”

Xerxes took a deep breath so his heart would quit its frantic galloping. “Clouds cannot cause darkness like this, nor can an eclipse.”

“I will call the magi.”

“Torches first, man. We must see.” He knew Zethar would obey but could not make out his retreating form in the darkness.

He closed his eyes against the lack of vision and listened. There, the sound of his servant’s familiar stride, moving away. There, animals whinnying and braying, snarling and growling. Was that Zad, barking as if a demon were on his tail?

“Father? What is this?”

Xerxes opened his eyes but did not see Darius. “I do not know, my son.”

“My lord.” Artabanas’s voice, from nearby.

“Here, uncle.”

A hand found his arm. “Ah. My lord, does this feel familiar to you?”

Realization jolted through him like lightning. He had indeed felt this before, this sense of overwhelm. Only then, in the deepest heart of night, it had not seemed so odd. “The dream.”

“The dream.” His uncle’s voice dripped fervency. “This is the work of Ahura Mazda.”

Yes. No. “Why would the god cover the land in darkness on the very day we set out for
his
war?”

“Who am I to say? We must call the magi.”

“Zethar is doing so now.” A flicker of flame appeared from around a corner, illuminating the face of another slave. “Good, light. Let us go calm the troops.”

They located most of the high command with ease—or rather, the high command found them, drawn by the light of their torch. Within minutes, other points of flame appeared on the mountain and down into the valley.

The magi approached with heads bent together. These were the wisest men in Persia, the ones most skilled in things beyond human reckoning. They were the ones who understood the motions of the heavens, who could interpret the manifestation of things divine. But could even they understand this?

His uncle stepped forward to greet them. “Men of wisdom, what explanation do you have for your king?”

The magi exchanged a few more whispers before the most wizened among them bowed and stepped forward. “There is no question, my lord and master—this is a portent of your coming victory.”

Xerxes gritted his teeth. “My victory is foretold by the obliteration of all light from a morning sky?”

“Of course, my king. Is it not common knowledge that Greece is represented by the sun, and Persia the night? The fact that night has overcome day on the very morning you begin your campaign is a sure sign that Persia shall also overcome Greece.”

Xerxes spun and strode a few steps from his companions. He knew he looked out over the valley, but its details remained shrouded. The sun should be inching its way toward mid-morning. Instead the world was dark as the night of the new moon.

His soul wrestled with itself. How could something so fearsome be an omen of good things? Yet it resonated in that deepest cavity of his being, where memories of his encounter with the god lived.

The magi must be right. It was the only explanation—the god had led him to this, had insisted it was the only path to greatness. Victory was guaranteed. This was simply Ahura Mazda’s way of making it known to all the world.

He turned back around and surveyed his most trusted men. Then frowned. “Where is Pythius?”

~*~

Susa, Persia

Mordecai stood from his bench at the gate and searched the palace grounds nearest him. Few were out and about on this fine morning. Strange. Stranger still was the band of tension around his torso.

When a servant hurried by, Mordecai halted him. “My friend! Where is everyone today?”

The servant bobbed his head. “Praying, on orders of the queen. The king marches to Abydus today. All have been ordered to remain in their homes and pray for him.”

When had people begun calling Amestris the queen again? Mordecai swallowed and nodded. “Thank you. I will head home, then.”

He only went a few steps before he knew home was not where he needed to be. The river. He needed to go to the river.

As he reached the banks, a flash of white light streaked before his eyes, blinding him. He fell to his knees even as vision returned. “Jehovah? Is it Kasia again?”

He heard her scream somewhere inside his mind and doubled over when his skull seemed to crack in two and his abdomen rip apart. Gasping, he sprawled onto the ground. “Jehovah God, please—save her! Send your angels, Lord, to save your daughter.”

He squeezed his eyes shut against the scalding tears and the unnatural pain. Logically, he knew there was no wound in his head, no cramp in his stomach. That did not stop the sensation of life collapsing.

He shut out the panic and prayed.

~*~

Sardis, Lydia

Pythius took another step after Zad in the darkness, sliding farther down the mountain than he had intended. His arms flailed. Certain he would fall, he tensed, ready for the impact.

His feet caught firm ground again, and his balance equalized. “Zad?”

The dog barked from just ahead, and Pythius followed the sound. Never in his life had he felt urgency like this. Never in his life had terror seized his heart as when darkness fell upon his city.

“Zad?”

A whoof sounded beside him, and a wet nose nudged his hand. Pythius patted the dog’s head and followed him onward. As best as he could tell, they traveled down the mountain a bit more, then around an outcropping.

It was not so dark on this little knoll. Twilight instead of midnight. And the non-darkness seemed to circle a wide, flat rock with an odd lump on top.

Realization knocked the air from his lungs. “No. By the gods, no! Kasia!”

Zad bounded ahead of him and settled on the rock beside his mistress, whimpering and licking her face. Pythius swallowed back bile when the dog’s muzzle came away red. “Kasia?”

She groaned and turned her head, but her eyes did not open. Pythius crossed into the circle of near-light and paused, shuddering. Within this twilight ark, his soul brightened along with his vision, the weight of the darkness lifted. He knelt beside her and took her hand. “Can you hear me, Kasia? It is Pythius. I am here to help you.”

Her fingers gripped his as her whole body convulsed, knees and neck both straining toward her center. Pythius’s nostrils flared. “No, my daughter. Do not deliver your babe yet, please. He is not ready, and neither are you.”

A low, faint keen sounded in her throat. A perfect match to the teardrop that tracked down her temple.

His soul yearned to cry out but knew not which god to beseech. Athena, the guardian of his city? Hera, goddess of women? Or should he take his plea directly to Zeus?

Zad leapt up and flew past him with a round of barks. Pythius pressed his lips together and leaned over the prone woman to get a better idea of her injuries. Myriad scrapes and bruises covered her, but the seeping, dark stains under her head and trunk dismayed him most.

“Mistress? Mistress!”

Pythius turned and saw her two most trusted slaves running their way. “She is badly injured—and in labor, I think. I found her only a minute ago.”

The eunuch reached them first and dropped to his knees on the rock. He inspected each limb, the back of her head, and held large hands over her stomach when another convulsion ripped through her. He looked with tight lips at the maid who had settled beside Pythius. “Pray, Desma.”

The girl’s eyes slid shut, pushing tears onto her cheeks. “Jehovah, God of my mistress, please. I know not what treachery has befallen us this day, what evil blocks your light from the sky. But I know that Kasia is your true and loyal servant. Spare her, Jehovah, please. Stop the bleeding, heal the injuries. Lord, Lord!” The girl cried out and buried her head against Kasia’s side. She continued in a Greek dialect Pythius did not understand.

He did not need to. He gripped Kasia’s hand tighter and whispered, “Jehovah.” Of course. She was a Jewess, and hers was the God who held back the shadows from her now. “Jehovah. Save her.”

The eunuch eased Kasia up a few inches and then lowered her limp form back down. “Should we move her?”

Zad barked from behind them, and they all looked his way. The dog whined and turned toward the way they’d come from, tail wagging.

“I assume that is our answer. He led us all to her—perhaps he sees what we cannot.” Pythius looked from one servant to the other, and they both nodded.

Desma sprang up. “I will prepare her chamber. Master Pythius—if you could find the king?”

“Of course.”

The maidservant scampered over to Zad, and they soon disappeared into the blanket of darkness. Pythius cringed at the thought of stepping back into it, but there was no choice. They must get her to her room.

Theron gathered Kasia into his arms, and Pythius swore at the sight of her hair caked in blood. “We have no time to lose.”

He expected the second step to take them outside the oasis of twilight—instead, it moved with them, beating back the shadows as they slid up the hill. He knew it was Kasia the half-light cradled. And when they reached the solid ground of the palace, Pythius had to step out of it and go in search of the king.