Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “You told me there was no reason for me to worry. You promised me that you would come back from this campaign safely. You promised!”
His face relaxed. “Of course I will come back safely. I merely felt that it was my duty to the empire to name an heir.”
Her heart was pounding in her chest.
“I should not have told you this.” He was clearly annoyed with himself for distressing her. “Believe me, Esther, I have every intention of living long enough for our son to grow old enough to succeed me. I only told you because I didn’t want you to hear about Xerxes from someone else and misunderstand my reasons for not naming our child.”
She hardly heard him. She said out loud the words that were in her mind, “You think you are going to die.”
He said slowly and clearly, “I do not think I am going to die. You are to put that thought out of your head.”
All her good intentions of not burdening him with her fears had died the minute he had mentioned naming his heir. She pressed her free hand to her mouth. “Ahasuerus. I am so afraid. My father died in battle. Why shouldn’t it happen to you as well?”
He swung his legs onto the bed to sit beside her against the pillows and cradle her in his arms. “Listen to me, my love. There is not even going to be a battle. I will come back safely— you have my solemn promise on that.”
Her eyes clung to his. He was so calm, so certain. Comfort began to creep into her heart.
“No battle?” she whispered.
“No battle. We will all come home safe and sound. All of us. I promise.”
She let out her breath and let herself begin to relax against him. He bent his head and murmured in her ear, “Do you think you might have enough energy left to give me a proper good-bye?”
She sniffled and managed a trembling smile. Her lips moved. “Yes.”
Afterward, Esther pressed her forehead against his shoulder. “I love you so much. You could search the earth over and you’d never find anyone who could love you more than I do.”
“I
did
search the earth over,” he reminded her.
“That is so.” She gave a husky chuckle.
His hand was gently stroking her long hair. “You are the very heart of my life. Always before, I was alone. Now there is you.”
She lifted her head so she could see his face. “There are many people who love you, Ahasuerus.”
His face was grave as he returned her look. “There are many people who love the image they have made of me.”
Tears stung her eyes at this picture of his loneliness. He pressed her face against his shoulder once more and his cheek came down to rest on her head. “With you,” he said, “I have come home.”
T
he first part of Ahasuerus’ expedition went with exemplary smoothness. Since it was not a time of year when armies usually moved, the Mardian bandits holding the lower passes were completely surprised by the king’s appearance. The surprise, coupled with the sheer numbers of men who marched in the king’s train, intimidated the bandits into allowing the king’s forces to pass without paying tribute. So Ahasuerus and his attending army advanced without incident until they reached the impregnable Mardian stronghold at the Persian Gates.
The bandits at the lower passes had obviously sent word ahead to their fellow tribesmen that the king was coming, for the cliffs that towered above the treacherous pass were crowded with men, a sight clearly meant to daunt the king. The winter snow on the road was still as high as the horses’ hocks, the air was frigid, and the way ahead looked impassable without paying off the Mardians.
Ahasuerus stopped his troops at the base of the pass and waited, with Coes and Cambyses at his side. As they had done before, the Mardians sent a man to collect tribute for the use of the pass. It was the same man who had come the last time, and Ahasuerus immediately ordered him taken into custody. There was some activity on the heights as the bandits watched their messenger being led away, but Ahasuerus merely ordered his men to make camp for the night at a safe distance from the heights. Then he waited for night to fall.
Under cover of darkness, a force of two hundred handpicked men slipped away from the Persian camp and met with the king, who was waiting for them with two shepherds and Hathach. Coes, the commander of the small force, was the only one who knew what the king had planned.
Ahasuerus said, “These shepherds know a goat track that will take you up and around the mountain and bring you in behind the Mardians. You must go on foot; it is too steep and snow-covered for horses. It is vital that you reach the heights before dawn breaks.”
The men looked at each other uneasily as they understood the king’s intent.
“At dawn I will show myself at the pass,” Ahasuerus went on. “I will have the Magi make libations, as if I were planning to attempt a crossing. Once I have their attention, you will attack them from the rear. Their weapons are simple; they should make easy targets.”
“My lord!” It was Milis’ voice rising from the lines of men in front of the king. “Can we trust these shepherds? What if they are Mardian sympathizers leading us into a trap?”
A rustle among the chosen troops greeted this inquiry. The men were worried about how the Great King would react to being questioned by a mere lieutenant and worried as well that perhaps the question was valid.
“Hathach?” Ahasuerus said quietly.
“The shepherds are to be trusted,” the young eunuch, who had been born into a mountain tribe, reported. “The king sent me ahead with them to check the track. It is as my lord has said, steep and dangerous, but passable.”
The heads of the shepherds bobbed up and down in vigorous agreement and smiles began to appear among the gathered men.
Coes said, “Let us make ready to depart. Everyone is to carry bows and plenty of arrows.”
Following Hathach and the shepherds, the cream of Persia’s cavalry took to the mountains on foot. The track was as difficult and dangerous as predicted, but the men forged on with grim determination, scrambling ever upward on their hands and knees through the snow-covered rocks of the bleak, frigid mountainside.
They reached the top of the cliff as the moon disappeared from the sky. The men drew up into firing lines and prepared their weapons, expecting that the Mardians would have sentries guarding their backs. There was no one.
“They’re only bandits after all,” Coes muttered to Hathach. “Don’t even have the sense to protect their rear.”
Hathach’s teeth gleamed white. “That will make it easier for us.”
And easy it was. As the first light began to stain the sky, Ahasuerus had the Magi pour libations to the rising sun. The Mardians on the cliffs watched the activity of the Persian army with riveted intensity, each man standing poised beside his pile of rocks expecting to have to use them shortly. The snow helped the men coming in on their rear to move silently, and it was not until the Mardians heard the cry of the first man with an arrow in his back that they realized they had been surprised.
Ahasuerus stood at the entrance to the pass and watched as the bodies of Mardians rained down from the cliff tops. In half an hour’s time, Coes had built the agreed-upon fire signal on the heights, and Ahasuerus committed his army to the pass.
It took them four more days to clean the remaining Mardians out of their strongholds. Those who did not die in the fighting, Ahasuerus sent under guard to Persepolis. When the snow had melted, he said, he would consider what would be their final fate.
Then the king turned for home.
Esther and Luara sat together in Esther’s reception room, which over the last few months had gradually been transformed from an elegant, silk-hung chamber into a busy and untidy office. On Hegai’s most recent visit, he had looked at the scrolls piled on the large table Esther had installed and said, his admiration mixed with amusement, “You have come a long way for a woman who wanted nothing to do with court life, my lady.”
Esther and Luara had drawn even closer in the month since the army expedition had left for the Persian Gates. They both had someone they loved in danger, and it was a relief for them to have someone to talk to about their fears.
Today the two were engaged in looking at the fabrics and colors Hegai had suggested for the uniforms of the queen’s new Eunuch Guard. They were sitting on the floor, surrounded by swatches of material and exchanging comments, some of them amusingly derogatory, about Hegai’s extravagant taste, when Hegai himself tapped upon the door. Esther looked up from a swatch she and Luara had been giggling about and called, “Come in, Hegai.”
The Chief Eunuch’s face was grave as he stepped into the room. “My lady, your grandfather, Arses, requests an interview with you. He says it is urgent.”
Terror struck Esther’s heart and her hand gripped the fabric swatch so tightly that her knuckles showed white. “The king? Is he all right?”
Hegai hastened to assure her. “It is nothing to do with the king or the army. Arses was clear about that.”
Esther started to breathe again. “All right, then.” She put the fabric sample back on the floor next to the others and began to get to her feet. “I will see him immediately.”
Hegai and Luara rushed to help her rise. “Where do you wish to meet with him?” Hegai asked when she was safely upright.
Esther gestured to the one empty divan. “Here in my office, I suppose.”
Hegai’s eyes swept with disapproval around the cluttered room. He looked back to Esther.
She sighed.
“All right, Hegai. I will not offend your sensibilities by entertaining my grandfather in the midst of such disorder. Bring him to the king’s reception room and I will speak to him there.”
Hegai did not even blink at her casual appropriation of the king’s room. “Very well, my lady. I will do that.”
“Do you want me to come, my lady?” Luara asked.
Esther gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s not about the army, Luara. I had better see him myself, I think.” She put a hand to her lower back, then moved to the door.
Ahasuerus’ reception room felt desolate and empty as she walked in. All of the warmth of his presence had gone from it. She avoided looking at Ahuramazda’s golden disk on the wall and walked to the window that looked out upon the cold winter garden. She had no idea what her grandfather might want, but she had a feeling she would not like it.
When Arses came in she turned and waited for him to kiss her cheek. “I am glad to see you, Grandfather,” she said as he stepped back. “I hope all is well?”
His arrogant black brows were drawn together in a worried frown. She said, “Hegai told me Ahasuerus is all right. That is true, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Ahasuerus is safe, Esther. You need not worry about him.”
“Then what is it? You seem . . . perturbed.”
He reached under his wool tunic and drew out a rolled parchment. “Since I understand you can read, I think you had better read this for yourself. It is a copy of the king’s decree that was proclaimed in Susa yesterday. One of your Jewish neighbors brought it to me and asked me to bring it to you.”
He extended the scroll to Esther, who unrolled it and began to read:
The Great King, Ahasuerus, writes to the satraps of the twenty provinces from India to Egypt, and the governors subordinate to them, as follows: Know you that there is one tribe of bad will living among us, which by its laws is opposed to every other people and continually disregards the decrees of kings, so that the unity of empire designed by us cannot be established.