Lilah (19 page)

There was a slight movement at the other end of the room. The last courtiers still standing sat down. ‘What do you mean?' Ezra asked, uneasily. ‘What price has Lilah paid to get me this audience?'

Suddenly silence descended on the hall like a wave.

‘The King has sat down behind the curtain,' Antinoes murmured, without moving his lips. ‘You mustn't speak now until you're ordered to. Eat, or if you don't want to eat, keep still. Remember, he can see you – and you can be sure he'll be looking at you.'

As Antinoes had predicted, patience was the greatest virtue anyone waiting for an audience could possess. The King's meal was interminable, and the silence that hung over the hall made it seem even longer.

From time to time, the courtiers would hear murmurs from the semi-darkness beyond the curtain, female voices, a short burst of laughter. They themselves ate in silence. The only sounds came from the dishes and the bowls of lemon water that the servants brought for them to rinse their fingers. They all ate slowly, heads bowed over the brass platters. But no one took a morsel until the eunuchs had first tasted each dish as it was placed before them.

Ezra sat stiffly on his cushion. In spite of Antinoes' warning, he could barely conceal his irritation at the long wait. Like the others, he felt the silence weigh on him, and was uneasy at the thought that the King could see them but that there was no way of knowing exactly who he was looking at. Clearly Artaxerxes liked to be thought a deity. To the courtiers, he probably was. Ezra's mood darkened.

Nervously, he fidgeted with the ring Axatria had given him, which he wore on his forefinger. It was a red stone, set in silver, that Sarah had filched from Mordechai's chest. His uncle's fingers were broader than his own. All he had to do was part the index finger from the middle finger and the ring would
slip off. He hoped he would soon have a chance to do so, but was starting to doubt it. Beside him, Antinoes had applied himself conscientiously to his food, which showed that he was not really hungry and took little pleasure in the meal.

Suddenly, harps, flutes and drum struck up a melody behind the veil, and a youthful but powerful voice – Ezra guessed it belonged to a eunuch – started to sing. The words glorified the manliness and warlike power of Artaxerxes and his ancestors. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the music stopped and the veil was flung back.

The crowd of courtiers stood up. Antinoes pulled at Ezra to follow the others' movements.

Hardly had they got to their feet than two guards came up to them.

‘Ezra, son of Serayah,' one of them said. ‘Artaxerxes, master of nations, King of Kings, wants to see you.'

While the eunuchs and servants wore sumptuous clothes, and the tunic of the chiliarch Tithraustes glittered with gold and precious stones, Artaxerxes was dressed in a simple white tunic. His long beard was threaded with gold braid and over his wig he wore a tall hat woven with gold and stones. The wig itself was so voluminous, it made his face seem unusually long and thin. Ointments had been
applied to his eyelids to blacken them, and his grey eyes given colour with a touch of kohl. Between the shadows of his beard, his lips had been painted to emphasize their voluptuous shape. He was sitting on a huge chair decorated with stars made from emeralds and pearls, and his feet rested on a stool of gold and ivory – it was said that he carried it himself as he moved about the palace, and even when he rode in a chariot.

On his right stood the chiliarch, and behind, the three scribes of the Book of Days, helped by some twenty young eunuchs, crouching quietly until they were needed. To his left, the musicians waited for a gesture from the King. All around, fifty guards, among the tallest ever seen, formed a circle.

As he reached the boundary marked previously by the veil, Antinoes bowed. He went no further, but Ezra continued walking straight towards the King.

A murmur went through the courtiers.

The King's face remained impassive.

Ezra took a few more steps, put his head down and made a little bow, right hand dangling towards the floor. The ring slipped from his fingers, and he bent as if following it in its fall. He stayed down for a brief moment, then straightened, and blew on his palm as Axatria had done.

Unfortunately, he lacked her grace: the movement he had made was so unlike a bow that the
chiliarch Tithraustes signalled to the guards. Artaxerxes raised his hand from the armrest of his seat and smiled with amusement.

Taken aback, Tithraustes glanced uncertainly at his master, before doing his duty. ‘Ezra, son of Serayah, Jew of Zion,' he announced. ‘My king, he has come to ask you for help and support in leading to Jerusalem those of his people who have been living among us, in the Susa region and in Babylon, since their fathers' exile. That goes back, my king, to the days when Darius was not yet King of Kings.'

Like all the people in the hall, Ezra remained still until the King, who was no longer smiling, spoke. ‘Your greeting, Ezra, is not that of a man who loves me, yet you have come to ask my help.'

Antinoes saw Ezra's shoulders and neck stiffen. Then he heard his clear voice: ‘Do not see it as an offence on my part, my king. I give you all the respect I owe you. But it is true, my love goes to Yahweh, my God. As for bowing down, I obey the Law that Yahweh gave my people.'

The answer was so unexpected that the scribes and the chiliarch turned to Artaxerxes, waiting for him to explode. Instead, the King gazed hard at Ezra. ‘That is not a pleasing answer,' he said, ‘unless you can explain it to me.'

‘My king, as the chiliarch said, my people are the people of Jerusalem and Judaea, the land that
Yahweh, master of the universe, apportioned to us at the birth of time – provided that we follow His laws and decrees. Your father, your father's father and the great Cyrus, King of Kings, recognized the justice of Yahweh's laws. They considered them good and useful. That's why the great Cyrus, having conquered Babylon, made a decree in Ectabana, giving us the right to live according to these laws and to establish them in Jerusalem and throughout Judaea.'

Artaxerxes appeared to reflect for a moment, then turned to the scribes. ‘Is this true?' he asked. ‘Is it written in the Book of Days?'

There then began a strange ballet. The scribes and their aides rummaged through the chests with which they were surrounded. From these, they took out hundreds of papyrus scrolls, checking their contents on the wooden handles. They performed this task swiftly, indifferent to the eyes watching them. At last, after what seemed quite a short time, given the scale of the work, one of them unrolled a scroll some five or six cubits long. With an expert eye, he looked through it, then smiled, stood up and bowed.

‘Yes, my king,' he said. ‘Cyrus the Great spoke in favour of the Jews of Jerusalem.'

Artaxerxes, who seemed now to be enjoying this battle of wits, turned to Ezra. ‘And you, do you know the words he spoke?'

‘Yes, my king,' Ezra replied, without flinching. ‘Cyrus, King of Persia, declared, “Yahweh, God of heaven, gave me all the kingdoms of the earth and entrusted me with the task of building him a temple in Jerusalem, in Judaea. Whoever among you is of his people, may his God be with him! May he go up to Jerusalem and build the Temple of the God of Israel, the God who is in Jerusalem.”'

There was a moment of stunned silence, followed by murmuring among the onlookers. Artaxerxes pursed his lips, and ran his fingers through his golden beard. ‘Are you claiming that Cyrus knew your God but knew nothing of Ahura Mazda, Anahita and Mithras?'

‘Those were the words he spoke, my king.'

Artaxerxes grunted, and pointed at the scribes. ‘What does the Book of Days say?'

This time, the answer came quickly. ‘O my king, what Ezra has just said is written word for word.'

There were more murmurs. Artaxerxes looked thoughtfully at Ezra. ‘These laws of your God of heaven,' he asked, ‘who knows them?'

‘I do, my king.'

‘All of them?'

‘All of them.'

‘How can this be?'

‘Because I've studied them every day for many years.'

‘Where?'

Ezra raised the leather case and took out Moses' scroll. ‘They are written here, my king.'

‘And who wrote them?'

Ezra recounted how Moses had led Yahweh's people out of Pharaoh's Egypt to the mountain of Horeb where Yahweh had dictated his Commandments to him, laws and rules that concerned all things and all occasions in life, so that then, through the children of his brother Aaron, they could be transmitted from generation to generation.

‘And you claim to know each and every one of them?' Artaxerxes asked.

‘Yes,' Ezra replied.

Artaxerxes smiled and pointed to Ezra's hat. ‘If everything proceeds from a law, why did you have that candlestick embroidered on your hat?'

‘Because Yahweh commanded Moses, “You will make a candlestick of pure gold. Its base and its shaft will be of hammered gold. Its flowers, buds and branches will form one piece with it. Six branches will extend from its sides . . .”'

When he fell silent, Artaxerxes made a sign. A guard came up to Ezra, took the scroll from his hands, and handed it to the scribes, who proceeded to search in it for the commandment Ezra had just quoted.

‘My king,' they said at last, ‘what Ezra has said is written here word for word.'

Now there was only astonishment and silence. Ezra's audience lasted so long that no one else was received that day. Artaxerxes asked a thousand more questions and each time had the answers checked in the Book of Days. Then he asked Ezra what help he expected from him.

Ezra explained what Nehemiah's task had been and why it had remained unfinished. He recalled how King Darius had instituted a search of his archives and cellars for the objects stolen by Nebuchadnezzar during the sack of Jerusalem, as well as the measurements of the Temple that had to be rebuilt. That, too, Artaxerxes commanded to be checked in the Book of Days. Once again, Ezra was found to have told the truth, word for word.

‘Ask me for what you want,' he said at last, ‘and you shall have it.'

‘It can only be to your advantage for law and order to prevail in Jerusalem, my king,' Ezra declared. ‘Today the walls of Jerusalem are again cracked and broken. Disorder enters in like the wind and profits your enemies. Day after day, Jerusalem becomes a more and more open breach in the frontier of your kingdoms. And through this breach the chaos of war, the chaos of nations without laws, can reach even you. Give me the power to leave Susa with those of my people who wish to follow me. Give me what I need to rebuild the Temple and
make it worthy of Yahweh, and I will give you calm, peace and stability. Jerusalem, made strong again by the Law of Yahweh, will protect you from the Egyptians and the Greeks.'

‘May Ezra's words be written in the Book of Days,' Artaxerxes replied. ‘May it also be written that I, Artaxerxes, King of Kings, grant him what he asks.'

‘Ezra came back to the lower town a hero,' Lilah said. ‘It was already dark. Zachariah and his family escorted him with candles and torches from the royal city to his house. They sang and danced all night long, and then, as soon as dawn rose, they ran to the Jewish houses to spread the good news. By now, there isn't a single child of Israel in the upper town who doesn't know that Ezra, son of Serayah, is going to leave for Jerusalem, with the agreement of Artaxerxes, in order to rebuild the Temple.'

There was a touch of mockery in Lilah's voice, but mostly it was calm and gentle.

They were in Antinoes' bedchamber. The shutters had been carefully lined with blankets so that no light could be seen from outside. ‘It's when you think Parysatis' spies are dozing that they're most alert,' Antinoes had said.

‘Ezra is the only one who doesn't seem happy,' Lilah continued. ‘As soon as anyone congratulates
him for impressing Artaxerxes with his answers during the audience, he cries, “I know very little. You think it's a lot because you're ignorant.” Or else, “Until I have a letter from Artaxerxes in my hand, it's pointless for you to sing my praises. It isn't yet certain that Yahweh's hand is upon me. I'm carrying on with my studies.” Zachariah protests, of course. Then Ezra loses his temper: “Where are the Levites who are supposed to be going with me? You promised me hundreds. But when I count you, I can't even see ten who are capable of reading Moses' scroll. There are thousands of exiles in Susa, yet I don't see them crowding into the lower town, ready to set off for Jerusalem. They say they're impatient to leave, but where are they?”'

Antinoes laughed at her imitation of her brother's voice. Lilah rolled onto her back, stretched out on the bed and gazed up at the dark ceiling.

‘Uncle Mordechai is impressed too,' she went on. ‘He won't go to Jerusalem – his workshop and my aunt's mean too much to him. But he feels guilty. He's going to give my brother some chariots so that he can travel comfortably. When I told Ezra, he replied, “They're all like our uncle, my sister. All those fat children of Israel are ready to give me their gold as long as they're not obliged to get up from their cushions. They have no desire to see Jerusalem again. They're content here, in the arms
of Artaxerxes. Do they imagine Yahweh isn't judging them?”'

Antinoes had stopped laughing. They were both silent. The silence weighed on them, but the words that remained to be said weighed even heavier on their hearts.

Antinoes' face crumpled. ‘But you're not like your uncle,' he whispered. ‘You're Ezra's sister, and you'll go with him to Jerusalem . . .'

Lilah did not reply at once. She closed her eyes. Antinoes looked closely at her mouth, her chest swelling as her breath came faster.

‘Yesterday,' she said at last, ‘Ezra asked me, “And what of you, my sister? Will you follow me or will you stay with your Persian?” That made me angry. I replied that my Persian had a name. And that I shan't give him an answer until he has spoken it.'