Jewel of Persia (24 page)

He caught her hand again and kissed her palm. “I respect your God, my love. I am sorry I spoke as I did.”

Her gaze darted past him. “I am distracting you. And I am tired. I think I will not appear at the meal tonight, if you consent.”

“Of course. I will dine with you in your chamber then. If you consent.”

Her smile erased a few of the shadows under her eyes. “I would not dare deny the king of kings.”

“Good.” He kissed her hand again. “He gets testy when deprived of your company.”

With the amusement alive in her eyes again, she took her leave. Xerxes allowed himself a steadying breath before turning to the men clustered just out of earshot. He beckoned them closer. “Have the engineers put to death and new ones appointed—and let it be known that they have three months to complete the project, or they will join their predecessors in the afterlife.”

“Three months.” Though he looked strained, Otanes nodded. “As you will, my king.”

Masistes glanced at the scribe. “Will you really order the river lashed and manacled?”

Xerxes’ lips tugged up at the corners. “Come up with some clever and demeaning words for them to shout while carrying out the punishment, Masistes.”

“I?” Masistes flashed a wicked grin. “I have never had the pleasure of insulting a river before. It is brackish, is it not? Oh, this will be fun.”

While his brother went off mumbling about bitter waters, Xerxes measured the remaining commanders. “I will not stay in Sardis beyond the winter. Three months—not a day more.”

If that required rearranging the face of the earth still more, so be it.

Eighteen

Sardis, Lydia

Three months later, in the sixth year of the reign of Xerxes

Darius hid the clench of his fists in the folds of his robe. “But Father—”

“I will not argue this again, Darius.” Xerxes did not even spare him a glance. His attention was focused entirely upon the line of slaves with all his possessions.
His
. Not Darius’s. “The whole point of naming a successor before I head to war is so that you can rule in my absence, and in the event that I am slain. It would rather defeat the purpose if you were slain along with me.”

“Then why did you let me come at all? Why not leave me in Susa?”

His father sighed and finally turned to look at him. “You were eager to get out into the world, and I knew you would learn much in these years of preparation. Darius, I am entrusting my empire to you. Will you really gripe about ruling it from the comforts of Sardis?”

When put like that, Darius knew he could not argue. But still he wanted to. He had been counting the days until he was away from Artaynte, out in the fields where he could come into his own. How could he do that here, under her watchful eye? “I want to fight, Father. You are a skilled warrior—would you deny me the opportunity to be the same?”

“My skill came from controlled exercises—and a few forays before I was named the next king.”

Darius felt his mouth twist. “Cyrus goes with you.”

Xerxes let out a growl. “Cyrus’s life is not worth as much as yours. You are my heir, Darius.
You
. If one of these bands of rebel Greeks wanted to cut me off at my knees, all they would have to do is get their hands on you.”

“As if it would be so easy. Besides, if I were killed or captured, you would just name another in my place.”

From where had
that
fear sprung?

Xerxes tossed up a hand and spun away. “I chose you for many reasons, Darius. Though for the life of me I cannot remember them at this moment.”

“That is easy.” A grin won possession of his lips. “Had you named anyone else, Mother would have had him killed.”

His father snorted a laugh and faced him again, arms akimbo. The amusement in his eyes shifted into something stronger, warmer. “I am proud of you, Darius. You have grown into an admirable man, otherwise I would not be so willing to leave you here as liaison between me and the rest of the empire. I would have given anything for such an honor when I was your age.”

Darius nodded and decided to focus on that satisfaction rather than the niggling discontent. Was the control of an empire not worth more than the love of one woman?

Lately his father made him wonder. Sometimes Darius was unsure Persia still ranked at the top of Xerxes’ priorities. It seemed that title had been given to the curvaceous Kasia. Part of him thought such dedication ridiculous—yet another part longed for Artaynte to look at him the way the Jewess did her husband.

Smiling it away, Darius embraced his father and nodded to the week-long stretch of army ranks. “Go tend your war, Father. I will keep the rest of the empire in working order—you will not be disappointed.”

“I know.” With a playful clap to the side of Darius’s head, Xerxes stepped away. “I will be in touch. Do not get too attached to the authority, my son—I will ask it back from you when I have added Greece to our dominion.”

Darius chuckled and lifted a hand in farewell. His smile faded as soon as the king was out of sight. No more dreams of becoming a war hero, then. Would ruling well be enough to earn the respect of Artaynte . . . or would he have to give up dreams of her as well?

~*~

“Mistress, we must go. The king wants to depart within the hour.”

Kasia blinked and let her eyes refocus on the familiar pattern of her rug. She had been in prayer for a good while, but the pressure around her heart had not eased. If anything, it felt tighter than when she arose that morning. She tried to sit and winced at the pain in her back. Zad whimpered beside her and licked her in the face. With a halfhearted chuckle, she pushed him away. “Would you help me up, Desma?”

Desma put an arm around her, clucking her tongue. “You should not bend over so long in your condition. I am sure Jehovah would understand if you prayed in a chair.”

Kasia let her maid haul her up. “No doubt he would. But I cannot concentrate so well when I am comfortable. I doze off.” She spread a hand over the small mound of her stomach. “The fault of this wee one, I suspect.”

“Better sleepiness than nausea.” Desma grinned and roll up the rug.

She looked around at her chamber, devoid of everything but the furniture it had held upon her arrival here three months ago. “Where did the others go?”

“To prepare the wagon for you, mistress. Artaynte stopped in, to say farewell—she said she would wait for you outside.”

Pain laced the pressure inside. When they started on this journey nearly two years ago, she never would have guessed she would become such good friends with the other women. Was it only because of proximity or had they truly accepted her? Either way, she would miss Artaynte and Parsisa.

Either way, she would not miss them like she did Esther.

Theron filled the doorway and greeted her with a smile. “You have emerged from your prayerful stupor, I see. If you are ready then, mistress?”

Kasia smiled and followed her eunuch out the door, the dog bounding ahead of them. When she stepped into the warm sunshine, she fought the urge to turn and run back inside.

“There you are!” Artaynte rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her. “It will be torture watching Darius with his string of lovers with only Mother to talk to. If I thought I had a chance, I would beg the king to leave you here.”

Kasia gave the girl a long hug. “I would be a surly, sour friend indeed if forced away from my husband.” She grinned and tugged on a lock of Artaynte’s hair. “You will understand that soon enough.”

With a huff of disbelief, Artaynte pulled away. “We shall see.”

Zad let out a string of low barks and growls and took off toward the wagon. Odd behavior for him—he usually stuck close to her side. Kasia looked to her servants. “Go see what he is about, would you, Theron? And Desma, put the last of the things in the wagon, please.”

Theron frowned. “The dog will be fine. We will wait for you.”

She sent a pointed glance to the seven servants lingering near Artaynte. “I think I will be well enough protected for five minutes, Theron. And I promise I shall not budge from this spot until you return for me.”

“Why do you allow such impudence?” Artaynte whispered as Theron and Desma sauntered away, both scowling. “Simply command them.”

“Speaking of commanding.” Kasia nodded to where Parsisa beckoned her daughter. “You are needed, it seems.”

“Will you not say farewell to Mother?”

“She stopped in earlier.” She wiggled her fingers in Parsisa’s direction and pulled Artaynte in for one more hug. “I will pray for you daily.”

“I shall need it. Be safe and well. I look forward to meeting your son when you return.” Sighing, Artaynte pulled away. “Stay with her,” she said to one of her eunuchs.

The moment her friend left, unease crowded her mind and heart. Something was wrong, something that seemed to saturate the very air. Yet the sky was a promising, cloudless blue, and the morning sun gleamed bright and warm in the heavens.

All was as it should be, was it not? The bridge had been rebuilt. The canal was finished. The army swarmed in an orderly mass, ready to march onward to Abydus.

Not for the first time since she joined the royal family, she craved solitude like a drowning man craved air. She kept her gaze cool as she turned it on Artaynte’s eunuch. “Go to your mistress. My own slaves return even now.”

The slave offered no protest, no response at all other than obedience.

Her hands shook as she slid to the waist-high wall beside her. Before her the taunting pinnacle of Mount Tmolus rose up in one direction. The mountainside tumbled into the Hermus valley and the city of Sardis in the other.

Inside, warning bells clashed and clamored. “What is it, Jehovah? Why does such dread fill me?”

Her vision trembled and shook, and she swore the metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils. Moans echoed in her ears, and she had to grip the wall to keep her balance. “Jehovah?”

Without me is defeat.

Her throat closed off. She could but move her lips. “Without you? Do you not come with us?”

What part has righteousness with unrighteousness? And what part has holiness with evil?

Evil? She would grant that the Persian court did not seek the righteousness her God espoused, and she had prayed herself through the feeling of an enemy crouching behind her several times. But the Lord had always been with her. Going before her, as her father had promised he would. Why should now be any different?

“Lord . . .”

Look up
.

She knew even before she obeyed that she would rather squeeze her eyes shut tight. Paralysis already seized her limbs, her heart thundered a silent cry. Her gaze settled on the ground directly across from her, where scrub bushes nestled in every rocky crag. She moved her eyes up, over the increasing rocks and boulders, until her gaze caught on the spur of the mountain.

Darkness whispered like fog over the tip, its tendrils extending out slowly, seeking. And within it was a roiling, writhing life that sucked the breath from her lungs.

All she could manage was a croak. “Oh, dear Lord . . .”

~*~

Susa, Persia

Amestris blinked to clear her vision. A small hand tugged on her elbow, and pleading brown eyes looked up at her. “Eat.”

She spared a smile for her youngest, though she was in no mood for his disruption. “You are hungry, Artaxerxes?”

The toddler nodded, sending dark curls dancing over his forehead. He tugged again on her elbow and stuck out a lip.

Fondness warred with impatience. She scooped up her son as his frazzled nurse rushed in. Another day, Amestris would have punished her for letting the boy get away from her. Today she had no time for such things. “There you are. Take my son for his breakfast.”

Artaxerxes’ arms clamped around her neck. “No. Mother.”

“Mother cannot leave right now.” She kissed his brow and plied him off. “But we will go play in the garden later.”

Though he pouted, the little prince let himself be swept up into the slave’s arms and taken from the room. Amestris drew in a long breath. Much as she would love spending her morning with her children, she could not. Ahura Mazda would not allow it.

She closed her eyes again and focused once more on prayer. For the last few months, her thoughts had been troubled by Haman’s message. She was confident in her advice to await an opportunity to rid the king of the Jewess and her influence. But the heaviness in her spirit told her time was running short.

A ferocious need had awakened her before dawn stained the sky. She had ordered all her servants, all the palace, all of Susa to pray. Everyone knew the king’s army would leave Sardis on this day, the war officially begun. They were told to pray for victory.