A Reluctant Queen (4 page)

Esther didn’t answer.

“Abraham’s father as much as told me tonight that I can expect an offer for you.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You have turned into a beautiful young woman, Esther. If you don’t wish to marry Abraham, there will be others. I can promise you that.”

Esther was surprised. Her uncle never complimented her on her looks. He told her often how smart she was, but never once had he said she was pretty. She met his eyes briefly and saw that he was serious.

“Tell me what you want, chicken,” he said gently.

“Wouldn’t you be lonely without me, Uncle Mordecai?”

“I will miss you very much. But I have always known that you will marry, Esther. That is where your future lies, with a husband and children of your own.” He smiled at her. “I will be their eccentric grandfather.”

She laughed shakily. “I know I must marry. But . . . I’m not sure if I’m ready yet. You see, I have my own house here with you, Uncle Mordecai. And we have such a nice life! I would miss my studies—”

He cut in. “There is no reason to stop your studies. Abraham would never ask that of you.”

Esther knew that. She was reaching for excuses, that was all. “If I wait a little, do you think I will be too old for suitors?” she asked.

Mordecai smiled. “Esther, you will never lack for suitors, believe me. And if you want to spend a little more time with your old uncle, you will make me very happy.”

She grinned at him, relieved by his reply. “I do like Abraham,” she said. “Do you think he will be willing to wait?”

“Didn’t Jacob serve seven years for Rachel? Believe me, chicken, Abraham will be happy to wait.”

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

T
he coming of autumn brought the king and his courtiers back from the mountains and trouble back to the Susa Jews. A week after the court’s return, Mordecai came slowly into the house after work and shocked Esther by the grayness of his face.

“Sit down, Uncle, and I will bring you a cup of water,” she commanded.

He obeyed without protest, which worried her even more. When she handed him the cup, she saw that his hands were shaking.

She sank on her knees in front of him. “Are you ill?”

She struggled to keep the fright from her voice. What would happen to her if she lost Mordecai? For almost all of her life he had been her rock, her protector, the person who loved her most in the world. She had a few memories of her mother, but the person who had always been there for her was her Uncle Mordecai.

“No, chicken, I’m not ill. I’ve just had a bad shock.”

She took the empty cup from him and put it on the floor. Then she held his cold hands in her warm ones.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“First we must send for the men of our community so I may speak to them. Can you run across the street and ask Naomi if her servant could pass along that message for me?”

Esther jumped to her feet, found Jacob, and came back to tell Mordecai that he would go. “You must eat, though, Uncle, before you have this meeting.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t swallow a morsel.” He waved his hand toward her usual stool. “Sit and I will tell you what has caused my distress. Talking will help me to collect my thoughts.”

She leaned forward to listen.

“Haman, one of the men who came with the king from Babylon, came into my office today. It doesn’t matter what he wanted, but in the course of our brief conversation I discovered that he is not a Babylonian, as we all thought, but an Edomite. An Edomite, Esther! And he has the ear of the king—is one of his most trusted advisors, in fact. I was horrified.”

The first of the men Mordecai had summoned knocked on the front door and Esther went to let him in.

When the meeting finally adjourned, Esther came in from the kitchen to find Mordecai looking as pale and worried as he had when first he came home. Although Esther had been brought up to feel both religious and racial ties to the Jewish homeland, her immediate worry was more for her uncle’s health than it was for war in a faraway place.

“There is no sense in making yourself ill about something you have no control over,” she urged, as they sat at breakfast the following morning. “War has not broken out in Palestine. War may never break out there. Nothing you do can change what happens, Uncle Mordecai, so don’t worry about it so much.”

He shook his head. He had hardly eaten a thing. “I have a terrible feeling about this, Esther. I cannot help it. Something dreadful is going to happen to the Jews. It is like God is sending me a . . . a prophecy.”

The weeks went by and cool air finally began to blow down from the mountains, and the streets of Susa, almost empty in the heat of summer, became lively again. The markets were crowded with people, the king’s cavalry rode through the city on an almost daily basis, and the sun’s warmth felt good, not oppressive. It was Esther’s favorite time of year.

Then one night Mordecai had a dream. Esther heard him yelling from his sleeping room and she grabbed her shawl and ran next door, afraid that he might be having a heart cramp. “Are you all right, Uncle Mordecai?” she called from the doorway.

She could hear him panting as if he had run twenty miles. She lit the oil lamp and went in to check on him. He was sitting up, his eyes wild, his body bathed in sweat.

“What is wrong?”

“A dream,” he gasped. “A terrible dream.”

Relief surged through Esther. A dream would not kill him. She knelt next to the raised pallet that was his bed. He was shivering, and she took the shawl she had thrown over her nightdress and wrapped it around his shoulders. “You’re all right, Uncle Mordecai. You’re safe. You’re here with me.”

In a flash of memory, she recalled the times when she was a child and he had come to comfort her from a bad dream with the exact same words she had just spoken to him.

He breathed in deeply several times, trying to gain control of himself.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked.

He croaked, “Yes, I think so.” He cleared his voice, waited a moment, then went on. “I think it is important, Esther. I think this dream was sent to me by God. I need to say it out loud before I forget any of it.”

“All right, then. Tell me.”

He gazed in front of him, as if he was seeing something she could not. “I saw the earth spread out before me and it was shaking with booming thunder and earthquakes. Then two huge dragons appeared and began to fight each other. As they struggled, I saw the entire world dissolving into hatred and evil, and I knew”—for the first time during this recital he looked at her—“I
knew
, Esther, that the whole of the Jewish race was doomed to destruction.” He shook his head, as if to clear it. “I cried out to God for deliverance, and God answered by sending a great healing river over the earth, and the sun broke through the darkness, and I knew that my people would be saved.”

Esther was stunned. It was such a fantastic dream. Dragons fighting? The world delivered over to hatred and evil? Where had such a dream come from?

Mordecai said, “God sent me this dream. He sent it to warn me. Those dragons, Esther . . . those dragons had eyes that looked just like Haman’s.”

Suddenly Esther felt chilled. She wished she had her shawl back.

“Are you sure?” she whispered.

“Yes. We must find someone to counteract Haman’s influence with the king! We must find someone to represent Jewish interests.”

“But who?”

Mordecai looked at his niece. Esther was kneeling in a pool of lamplight, and the removal of her shawl showed the long line of her throat and the swell of her chest under the thin linen of her nightdress. Her black hair was loose and flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Her large eyes were filled with concern for him.

“Here.” He removed the shawl from his shoulders and handed it back to her. “I am fine now and you must be chilled.”

She took it and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Would you like me to fetch you a cup of milk?”

“No.” He reached out and flicked her cheek with his finger. “Go back to bed. I have disturbed your sleep enough, chicken.”

Esther thought that he was looking better. His shivering had stopped and his voice was stronger. She stood up. “Do you really think the dream came from God, Uncle?”

He looked up at her. “Yes, Esther, I do.”

In the days after the dream Mordecai was deeply preoccupied and spoke very little. Esther tried her best to find out if something was bothering him, but for the first time in all their years together she felt as if he was withdrawing from her. It made her uneasy.

Then, the following Sabbath, Mordecai asked her to remain after the meal so that he and a few of the men from the community could speak to her.

“Have I done something wrong?” she asked in alarm.

“No, Esther. You have done nothing wrong. We just wish &7 to speak to you.”

So Esther stayed while the other women left, Rachel throwing her a curious glance before she went out the door. The table that earlier had contained the food still stood in the middle of the floor, and the two men who had remained sat opposite Mordecai and Esther, with the table between them.

Esther was frightened. Something unusual was about to happen, and she was not comforted by the somber looks on the bearded faces of Rachel’s father, Jojachin, and the community’s priest, Shimeon.

Mordecai spoke first. “We have received bad news from Palestine, Esther. The prophet Obadiah has been whipping the people of Jerusalem into a frenzy about the Edomite’s theft of southern Judah. If he succeeds in rousing them to arms, there will be war.”

He stopped and Esther nodded that she understood. What she didn’t understand was why she was here.

Mordecai went on, “We need to place someone in the palace who will be able to represent Jewish interests to the king.”

Esther struggled not to look as mystified as she felt. She nodded again.

Suddenly, Mordecai raised his hands to his face. “You tell her,” he said through his fingers to the priest. “I cannot.”

Shimeon gave Mordecai a sympathetic look, then turned to Esther. “Esther, we have decided that our emissary to the king must be you.”

Esther stared. She could not possibly have heard aright. “I am sorry,” she said. “Will you repeat that?”

“I said that we have chosen you to be our emissary to the king. We have decided that you must enter the competition to be the king’s wife. If God wishes you to have this position, then the king will choose you.” Shimeon lifted his bushy eyebrows a little. “Who better to have the king’s ear than his wife?”

Esther’s heart gave a thud. She looked from Shimeon to Rachel’s father, Jojachin, who sat beside him. They seemed perfectly serious. Then she turned to Mordecai, who was sitting beside her. He had uncovered his face and was looking haggard. She said, “This is impossible, Uncle Mordecai. You must realize that. The king’s proclamation made it quite clear that only Persian aristocrats could apply. As you have always told me, I am a
Jew
. I cannot be considered.”

Mordecai’s voice was husky. “The Persians count their lineage through the father, not through the mother as we do. Your father was an Achaemenid, therefore, in the eyes of the Persians, you are an Achaemenid too.”