Lilah (18 page)

BEFORE SHE OPENED
the iron-clad door of the tower, Lilah paused and held her breath. There was nothing around her but the immense silence of the city. It was too cold, the night too dark, for Parysatis' spies to venture out. The street was empty. Not even a stray dog.

She closed the door behind her noiselessly, crossed the ground floor and slipped into the garden. She walked rapidly, hands in front of her for protection, brushing against tree-trunks and bushes. The darkness was so dense that she bumped into the wall of the house when she reached it, grazing her fingers on the icy edges of the bricks.

She had to go round the columns at the entrance. By the time she knocked softly on the shutter, she was soaked to the skin.

‘Who is it?' he asked, almost immediately.

‘Lilah.'

Those were the last words they spoke for a long time.

He undressed her close to the braziers. His breath burned her skin as he made love to her with almost painful slowness.

Later, when she was asleep, the fine hairs on her temples stuck to her skin with sweat, he began to caress her again. He took her with the gentleness of a dream. She barely woke, breathing in his kisses.

Outside, the night of Susa was still profoundly silent. The snow was falling again.

When Lilah rolled once more on to Antinoes' chest, the pleasure did not prevent her tears from flowing. Nevertheless, these tears were like a gentle, comforting rain for her eyes. Antinoes' caresses had washed her clean, calmed her.

She clung to his neck and he held her tightly against him. For a brief but indelible moment, they were as indestructible as the night and the stars.

Before morning, Antinoes woke her so that she could take advantage of the darkness to leave the house. He had made ready for her a fur cloak lined with silk.

She would have liked to tell him that nothing had changed, either in her heart or in her will, that he was already her husband for all eternity, that
Parysatis' threats did not frighten her. But at that moment, Antinoes whispered, ‘I'll be with Ezra in the Apadana.' He kissed her again. ‘Have no fear. Everything will be all right.'

No, she had no fear now, not any more.

Ezra presented himself at the gate of Darius just before sunrise. He was dressed in a new purple and blue tunic that touched his feet. It had been given to him the day before by Zachariah and the men who had been occupying his courtyard. Their wives had coloured and woven the wool with such skill that it flowed and shone with the brilliance of Oriental silk. On his head he wore a stiff felt hat, on which they had embroidered, in blue wool run through with silver thread, the seven-branched candlestick described by Yahweh to Moses.

A cylindrical leather case hung on his chest from a solid strap round his neck. Inside, Ezra had slipped the precious scroll of Moses' Scriptures, which his father's fathers had handed down to him through the centuries.

Accompanied by Zachariah and a handful of associates, he climbed the long flight of steps. Rising from the royal city, it ran alongside the great wall of the Citadel for one
stadion
in length. Images of the battles of Darius, the first and greatest of the Kings of Kings, stood out in relief from the brightly coloured
bricks. They had been drawn with such clarity that every one of the soldiers could be identified.

Above and below, to a height of fifty cubits, there were other images, of wild beasts, fabulous monsters, and the men of the peoples Darius had conquered, who now paid tribute to Artaxerxes the Second.

The gate of Darius was at the top of the steps. No one, not even the King, could reach the square of the Apadana, then the Citadel, without passing through it.

Its two leaves were so massive that it took four mules attached to a winch to move them. It was framed by the defensive wall and two towers, a hundred cubits high and just as wide, crenellated at the top. The bricks of the towers were light blue and yellow. Above them Ahura Mazda spread his gold and bronze protecting wings, over twenty-seven cubits wide. It was said that they reflected the sun so strongly that, at certain hours of the day, they could burn the eyes of those who gazed too long at them.

Two huge identical statues of Darius, five times lifesize, faced each other on either side of the bronze and cedar leaves of the gate. Real hair, from thousands of heads, had been used to make their wigs and beards. The necklaces and bracelets, each the diameter of a chariot wheel, were of real gold, cast from the spoils of battles fought in Hyrcania and
against the Parthians. The Egyptian sculptors who had made these colossal statues had set precious stones in the eye sockets. At dawn and dusk, when the sun's rays struck them, a blue and purple ray formed that forbade entry to all living creatures and purified the entrance to the Apadana.

Three times every morning, horns would sound, the gate would half open, and the courtiers of the royal city and the lords of the Citadel would crowd through it and bow down before the statues of Artaxerxes on the Apadana. Each would present to the guards a bronze and gold disc, as large as a man's palm, bearing the effigy of the King of Kings. The medals were handed down from father to son. If lost, they were not replaced. If an owner sinned, the medal was destroyed, and his family and descendants banished for ever from the Apadana.

Strangers from all parts of the world, some from the lands ruled by the King of Kings, some from barbarous and unknown nations, mingled with the crowd. All kinds of faces could be seen, all kinds of eye and skin colour, as well as the strangest clothes. The most disconcerting languages were spoken. But few of these people were allowed to walk between the breathtaking eyes of the immense statues of Darius.

To pass through the gate and enter beneath the shade cast by the towers, strangers had to present a
wax tablet written by the scribes of the Apadana ordering them to appear.

When Ezra showed his, a guard inspected it carefully, then handed it to some scribes, who studied it in their turn. He was allowed to pass but, in spite of his protests, Zachariah and his companions were not. They had barely time to shout a few words of encouragement before they disappeared into the crowd held back by the guards' spears.

Ezra was directed towards a narrow gallery, where he was searched. With a care that was quite humiliating, the guards made sure that he was not concealing any weapons, vials or ointments. Then, despite his violent opposition, they pulled Moses' scroll from its leather case and unrolled it.

While Ezra watched angrily, two young eunuchs slid the tips of their index fingers over the scroll, then held them out to be licked by a puppy in a cage. They waited until it was clear that the animal had not been poisoned, and at last allowed Ezra to go through the gate of Darius. Blinded by the daylight, he entered a world that few men had seen.

There, everything was so inordinately large, Ezra had the fleeting impression that he had been reduced in the flash of an eye to the size of a child. On the left, beyond the parapets, the Shaour, tiny from this distance, shimmered as it meandered through the snow-covered fields, like a thread in a carpet. On
the right, the houses of the upper town were like a child's building blocks, the gardens dark strips where green peeped through beneath the snow. The sky was so pure and so close, it seemed you needed only to lift your hand to touch the clouds.

Before him lay the courtyard of the Apadana. The floor was of marble, each flagstone so tight to its neighbours that a fishbone could not have slid between them. It stretched to the palace walls, which were smooth, without an opening, like a perfect cliff of brick.

Everywhere there were statues: of Artaxerxes the Second, Ahura Mazda with his bearded head and eagle wings, granite lions, steel and silver snakes, sensual porphyry nudes of the goddess Anahita, the raging horses and bulls of the god Mithras, clad in leather and gilded furs. Offerings burned in bronze bowls, and many people bowed before them, singing praises. Some lay on the icy flagstones, others danced and bared their chests to the cold. Yet more stood motionless, bent double as if the frost had turned them to stone.

Several guards were strolling about in green and yellow tunics, the sleeves and necks embroidered with jewels and gold rings. Taller than most other men, they seemed taller still in the woollen hats that held their curly hair and were tied beneath their oiled beards. The ivory handles of curved daggers
protruded from leather and silver baldrics, and they carried spears from which hung globes of silver or gold, according to their rank.

Two of them came straight up to Ezra and demanded to see his tablet. Then, without comment, they led him to the other side of the Apadana, where there was a roof supported by twelve columns covered with thick gold leaf and so huge that it had taken a thousand men to transport and raise them.

Pressing the leather case containing Moses' scroll to his stomach, Ezra hurried behind the guards to the area beneath the roof, which was alive with activity. Amid a crowd of scribes and aides, lords came and went. These were the men who ruled the kingdoms in the name of the King. The guards did not linger. They took Ezra to one of the many doors leading into the palace, then through the maze of corridors and courtyards.

They stopped on the threshold of a vast hall with a carpeted floor, and stepped aside to let him pass. The hall was divided into two by a veil. The visible half, where tables and cushions had been laid out, was brightly lit. Behind the veil, the light was dim.

A host of servants bustled between the low tables and the seats, on which sat, in all their finery, those to whom Artaxerxes had granted the glory of being present today.

Puzzled faces turned to Ezra as he entered, and
the buzz of conversation diminished for a moment. A man stood up and signalled to him. It was Antinoes: Ezra recognized him despite his sumptuous costume and the round hat that covered his hair.

As he stood there frozen in surprise, Antinoes came up to him and held out his hand. ‘Come and sit with me,' he said, by way of greeting. ‘The King isn't here yet and the meal hasn't started.'

Ezra hesitated, then replied in a harsh voice, ‘I haven't come here to eat.'

Antinoes smiled. ‘I suppose not, but the King won't receive you before he's had his meal.'

He explained how audiences were held. The King ate alone, or in the company of the great chiliarch and a few concubines. Then he would send for whomever he wished to see among those whose names had been written by the scribes in the Book of Days.

Antinoes pointed to the veil. ‘Until then, you won't see him. He stays on the other side of the veil. The light is arranged in such a way that he can see us but we can't see him or even be sure where he's sitting. He changes his position at every meal.'

‘Are you telling me it's not even certain that Artaxerxes will receive me?' Ezra asked, his voice as harsh as before.

Antinoes indicated the dozens of courtiers around them. ‘Almost every one of these people has received
a tablet for the audience, like you. As you can see, there are almost a hundred of them. Not even ten will be called before the King.'

Ezra's eyes grew wide in astonishment, and his mouth quivered with anger.

Antinoes placed a calming hand on his wrist. ‘Don't worry. You'll be received.'

‘How can you be so sure?'

Antinoes gave a sad, affectionate smile that surprised Ezra as much as the hand on his wrist. ‘Come on,' he said. ‘There's no point in standing. When you enter this hall, the greatest virtue is patience.'

Reluctantly, Ezra allowed himself to be led to a table. As soon as they were seated, eunuchs placed food and drink on the great platter before them. Before they walked away, they casually tasted from each of the goblets in order to demonstrate that they contained no poison.

Once he had got over his surprise, Ezra asked again, ‘How can you be so sure the King will receive me?'

‘Because he must.'

Ezra frowned. ‘Do you, a Persian, also think the hand of Yahweh is upon me?' he asked ironically.

‘That may be so, since Lilah believes it. But what is certain is that Artaxerxes will give you an audience
soon because, like your God, his mother Queen Parysatis wants it.'

‘I don't understand,' Ezra said, his face hard.

Antinoes recounted how Lilah had decided to make her brother's true worth known to Artaxerxes, and how she had gone to Parysatis to plead her cause.

When he had finished, Ezra looked away, then asked after a moment, ‘Would Parysatis dare to throw Lilah to the lions?'

‘Without hesitation.'

Ezra was silent again before continuing. ‘So you won't be able to marry her?'

Antinoes looked at him in silence.

‘And what are you doing here?' Ezra asked.

‘I was summoned because I'm the one who wrote to request an audience for you.'

For the first time since he had started speaking to Antinoes, Ezra's expression softened. ‘You wrote the request?'

‘We used to be brothers, Ezra,' Antinoes said, almost angrily. ‘I haven't forgotten that, even if you claim not to remember. In your determination to respect your God's laws, you've become harder than a brick wall.'

Ezra avoided his eyes. His hands kneaded the leather case that contained Moses' scroll.

‘Don't get me wrong,' Antinoes went on. ‘You
really owe your presence here today to Lilah. She's the one who believes that the hand of your God is upon you. She's the one who thinks you have a future that I don't understand. But I love Lilah as a man can love only one woman. And my love is not like yours. All it asks is her happiness.'

Ezra had turned pale. He sat stony-faced, indifferent to everything around him. ‘No, it's to Yahweh that I owe my presence here.'

Antinoes nodded, and smiled sadly. ‘I suppose that's how you see things. But I'd say that your God has placed His will in Lilah's hands. His will, added to your sister's courage. Because nothing is more dangerous in this city than to let Parysatis decide. There's always a price to pay.'