Harvest of Rubies (38 page)

I decided that I preferred rejecting him on my terms rather than waiting to be cast out on his. I prayed more, for I knew I lacked both strength and wisdom. I tried to cling to God the way Nehemiah had told me, tried to remember that my true worth lay in Him. I found my heart still ached at the end of my prayers, for God had not miraculously wiped the love I bore for my husband from me. Yet I also felt comforted. He made it possible for me to bear the pain.

With a sudden snort, the maid came awake. Wiping a thin line of spittle from her chin, she begged my pardon and scurried to fetch some soup.

“Where is his lordship, do you know?” I said, as I ate with desultory appetite.

“He was asked to attend the king, my lady. On account of the man who attacked you. His Majesty wished Lord Darius to make a full report on the matter.”

“I see.” The germ of a plan formed in my mind. I directed the maid to fetch parchment and quill and sat up to write a short missive to the queen. When the maid left with my letter, I then composed another to Darius.

I read the note over and knew it to be dry—devoid of the feelings I wished to keep hidden from my husband. Before I lost courage, I left the parchment on my pillow and with painful movements made my way out of bed. I had not yet finished dressing when the maid returned with a litter from the queen.

Damaspia ensconced me in my own private chamber, the height of luxury in Ecbatana, in spite of the fact that it boasted no windows and was as tiny as a child’s shoe. My simple exertions had exhausted me. Running like an underground river through my every thought was the knowledge that I might not see Darius for a long time. I had set him free from his false notions of responsibility toward me. With Teispes dead and his palace in good hands, nothing bound us together anymore. He had made his feelings clear toward me in the garden as he had walked away from me. What goodwill he had tried to extend toward an unwanted wife had shriveled on the bed of his suspicions. The one thing Persians hated worse than the pangs of death were lies. And Darius was convinced I was a liar.

The sole beneficial side effect of being stabbed was that I slept for long hours at a time and did not have to linger over
my painful thoughts. One day I awoke to find Pari keeping vigil next to me. I threw myself in her arms, shaking with relief at the sight of her.

“There, there, my lady. What’s all this?”

I told her everything. I told her about Darius’s offer of friendship if I would own up to what I had not done. I told her about his disgust as he walked away from me, and about Teispes’s attack. I told her about my husband’s sense of guilt and the reason I had left him. I even told her how much I loved him. There was relief in sharing my heartache with someone other than God. Pari never judged me for my foolish fears or precipitous decisions. She listened with patience, holding my hand as I spoke.

When I finished my tale, she shook her head. “First, let’s get you well. Then we shall deal with everything else.” She was ever practical, my Pari.

When dark humors and despair threatened me, she would distract me if possible, and let me mourn when my heart was too full to bear with distractions. Pari’s care coupled with her cheerful outlook proved the best remedy for my battered body. Within ten days, I was striding about the women’s quarters with little pain.

To my amazement, my adventures with Teispes made me a favorite among the noble ladies and concubines housed in the women’s quarters. I was invited on an endless procession of luncheons and dinners. I began to hide in my room for fear of another invitation.

Damaspia, who was a greater political genius than the king’s brightest advisor, encouraged these visitations by keeping my story alive with her own version of the tale. To hear her tell it, I was the most courageous woman in the empire, and my lord Darius the most dashing hero fashioned by the Creator’s
hand. Without my volition, I became more popular than any lady in Ecbatana other than the queen. I knew that my popularity would only last until the next interesting rumor spread. But I also recognized that Damaspia had launched me into Persian society with a vengeance. I may soon be forgotten, but I was now welcome amongst women of rank.

I remembered how badly I had once wanted this, and was surprised to find it of such little consequence. The friendship I shared with someone as humble as Pari was worth more to me than the opinion of a dozen aristocratic ladies.

When Damaspia sent for me after ten days, I thought she wished for me to regale another woman with my gruesome tale of kidnapping, violence, betrayal, and daring rescue. Instead, I found her alone.

She said in her usual direct manner, “Your husband demands that you be returned to him. Without delay.”

I
forgot about palace protocol. “What?”

“He says that you’ve had ample time to recover from your injuries, and demands that I send you back to him forthwith.”

“But why?”

Damaspia stretched her foot on an elaborate footrest. “How hard were you hit on the head, girl? You
are
his wife.”

“What will you do, Your Majesty?”

“Send you to him. Forthwith. I’m not coming between the affairs of husband and wife. Every nobleman from here to Bactria will rise up in worse fury than in the days of Queen Vashti’s disobedience if I do such a thing.” She waved her long bejeweled hands like she was sweeping the air. “Off you go to your husband, like an obedient little wife.”

I stared at her openmouthed for a moment. She had come
between the affairs of husband and wife
as long as I had been married. My shoulders drooped as I realized the futility of pointing out the queen’s inconsistencies to her. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Pari came with me as I returned to Darius’s apartment. She couldn’t stay there; the residence was too small to accommodate her. But I wanted her with me during that initial interview. I thought her presence would mitigate the awkward opening. A greater coward did not breathe this side of the Nile. The thought of meeting with Darius face-to-face petrified me. What had possessed him to send for me? He should have been relieved to be rid of me without fuss. That’s what he had wanted before Teispes complicated his life.

Instead of Arta, another of Darius’s men guarded our door. I recognized him from the long ride to Ecbatana, and nodded in salutation.

“Meres. Is his lordship in?”

“Yes, my lady. And awaiting your arrival.”

He opened the door after a perfunctory knock, and closed it behind us as soon as we had walked in. Darius spun around to face Pari and me. He was dressed for the hunt in leather trousers and a short tunic whose sleeves gave the appearance of iron scales. It was depressing how the very sight of him seemed to fuel my feelings with fresh power.

“Ha! My truant wife returns at long last.”

“I can see we have interrupted you on your way to riding, my lord. Please don’t let us detain you.” I pointed to his hunting gear.

His smile was dry. “Not at all. I have just returned from the hunt.”

“Oh.”

He ignored me and came to stand before Pari. “And how was your journey to Ecbatana, Parisatis?”

I gaped at my husband. Where had he learned my handmaiden’s full name? And why had he set himself out to charm her, for his manner toward her could have melted an icicle. His
warm regard, the way he settled his undivided attention on her, his respectful, courtly manner reduced Pari to another one of his devotees in moments.

“It was very pleasant, my lord. Thank you for the extra care you took in arranging our travels.”

“I’m glad to hear you had a commodious trip. Your mistress sings your praises. And I am told you’ve taken good care of her in her illness.”

Pari turned the color of the roses in the king’s arbor. “It’s no hardship caring for my lady.”

“Nonetheless, I wish to thank you.” He handed her a slip of parchment, which he must have prepared ahead of time. “Here is an extra ration of wheat for you this month. And a lamb. You can have them sent to your family if you wish, with my compliments.”

Pari’s eyebrows went up so high they almost fell off her head. “I’m obliged to you, my lord. I’ve never had such a generous gift.”

“You deserve it, Pari. You may take the rest of the day off. When your lady requires you, she will send for you.”

Before I had a chance to say one word, or to express my wishes on the matter, Pari disappeared from my presence. So much for my human shield.

Darius settled himself on the couch. “You look better than the last time I saw you. I trust you are recovered?”

“I am. Thank you.” It dawned on me that he had kept himself informed of my progress while I was in the women’s quarters. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find Damaspia herself the source of his information.

He extended a hand toward the couch. “Please, do sit.” He was lounging so freely that I would have to practically squeeze myself onto his lap.

“I am comfortable standing.”

“But I insist.”

I perched on a narrow stool across from him, the only other seat available in the tight chamber.

“Your departure seemed … precipitous, shall we say? Would you care to explain?”

“I left a note.”

He shifted a long leg down the length of the couch and let it hang from the end. “And such a touching letter it was too. I had hoped you’d feel inclined to consult me regarding such a decision.”

He studied me with a calculating stare. Pulsing beneath his pleasant countenance was a storm of anger he kept leashed. My leaving had stung his pride, I realized. “I didn’t think you would let me leave if I asked in person.”

“You are honest, at least. Now tell me
why
you left.”

“I told you—”

“That you wanted women to care for you, I know. Which is why I let you go. I was willing to spare your modesty. But there was more to your actions than the demands of modesty.”

I made a careful study of my shoes. They were beaded and sparkled in the light pouring through the latticed window. “First, I have a question for
you
. Why didn’t
you
leave? It’s what you wanted. Until I was injured, you were set on it. Then you changed your mind. You needn’t answer. I know your motive. You felt responsible in some way; but you had no cause. I left, because you stayed for the wrong reasons.”

Darius sprang from the couch so fast I almost toppled backward from my stool. He bent toward me until his face was level with mine. “You are mistaken.”

There was no room in our constrained chamber for someone as long-legged as Darius to pace. He gave it a good try
nonetheless, striding about in curtailed steps. He stopped in front of me and said again, “You are mistaken.”

I shrugged and turned away, finding his explosive scrutiny too disturbing.

“I tried to talk to you on the day of Teispes’s attack, after the physicians had left. But you fell asleep midway through my explanations. I thought I would speak with you on the following day, but by the time the maid had finished helping you, you were so fatigued that I let you be. And on the third day, when I returned to our chamber, you had taken yourself off without so much as a by-your-leave.”

He flung himself upon the couch again. “When I left you in the garden, I was furious with you for your refusal to tell me the truth.”

“I did tell you the truth.”

“Perhaps. But then we both know you lie convincingly. Nonetheless, I managed to calm myself after an hour or two, and persuaded myself that you just might be as honest and innocent as you sounded. Then Arta delivered an interesting report; he said that you were seen emerging from Nehemiah’s chambers without an escort.”