Game of Queens (18 page)

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Authors: India Edghill

BOOK: Game of Queens
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“Now, Vashti, come with me and do exactly as you are told.”

As I always did as I was told, this order seemed odd, and for the first time in my life, I heard worry in my mother's voice. This was so unusual that I, too, became anxious.

*   *   *

I followed my mother into the chamber in which she received honored guests. In my mother's chair sat a small dark woman whose garments glowed with the fire of true Tyrian purple, and whose eyes gleamed bright and keen as a cat's. My mother bowed, and said, “Here is King Belshazzar's granddaughter, O queen.” She did not tell me to bow, so I remained still, awaiting her command.

“I see a painted and gilded doll,” the dark queen said. “Take those clothes off her and wash her face. And unbind the poor child's hair. Then I will look at her.”

A day's effort on the part of my mother and her servants, and of obedient patience on mine, was undone within an hour. I returned with my body covered only by a shawl, my face bare of paint and my hair rippling down my back. My mother gazed upon me and I saw her mouth tighten; she was not pleased.

“O queen,” my mother began again, “here is Belshazzar's granddaughter—”

“You may leave us,” said the queen, and my mother hesitated. Never before had I seen my mother uncertain, or humble. The queen ignored her as if my mother had vanished like a djinn. “Come here to me, Vashti.”

The queen held out her hand and smiled at me. As I walked forward, I heard a fading whisper of silk that meant my mother had obeyed; that she had left me alone with this unknown queen.

“There, that is better.” The queen put her hand under my chin, tilted my face, examining me as if I were a jewel she might—perhaps—wish to buy. “Do you know who I am, child?”

“You are a queen,” I said, and she smiled again.

“I was Queen of Queens once. Now I am mother to the King of Kings. Now do you know my name?”

I did; my mother had deemed it proper for me to learn the House of Darius by heart.

“You are the Great Queen Amestris.”

“And do you know why I am here, Vashti?”

I shook my head.

“I am here because of you.”

“Me?” The Great Queen Amestris had come to see
me
? But why?

“Yes. Now let me look at you properly. Let go of that ridiculous shawl.”

I knew my mother would expect me to obey Queen Amestris, however immodest her command. I opened my hands and the shawl fell to the floor. Then I waited, too bewildered by the day's events to suffer shame under the queen's keen gaze.

She said nothing as she studied me, until at last she said, “Turn around, slowly.” I obeyed, waiting for her to speak again. I felt her lift my hair, testing it as if it were a skein of silk. Still I remained silent; Queen Amestris let my hair fall and laughed, softly.

“Your mother may have taught you nothing else, but at least you know that silence is a virtue.” She took my hand and made me face her again. “But so are words well-chosen and well-spoken. Tell me about yourself.”

She might as well have asked me to tell her how the stars came to be in the sky. I had no idea what I should say. Seeing my confusion, the queen tried another question.

“What do you like to do?” Queen Amestris waited, but I could think of nothing. At last I said, “I don't know, O queen.”

“You don't know?” Oddly, this answer seemed to please her; she laughed, softly. “Well, then, we must teach you. Would you like to come with me and live in the great palace in Shushan, Vashti?”

I thought carefully. “I would like it if the queen wishes it, and if my mother commands it.”

“The queen wishes it very much.” Amestris held out her arms and since she clearly expected it, I walked into her embrace. She hugged me with a warmth my mother had never displayed. “And your mother no longer commands you, Vashti. From this hour forward, you may command her.”

That was how I was chosen to be queen. Because I was King Belshazzar's granddaughter, and because my hair glowed like ivory silk—and because I had been so very carefully brought up that I knew nothing.

Not even what I liked.

*   *   *

Queen Mother Amestris wasted nothing, least of all time. I left my mother's house with Amestris that very day. My mother ordered me to remember all she had taught me, and kissed my forehead. My father did not bid me farewell; he was, I think, away from Babylon at that time. I had only seen him rarely, in any case, and did not miss him. Queen Mother Amestris took me with her in a great gilded palanquin carried by a dozen men dressed all alike in blue-and-yellow garments.

I stared, for of course I had never seen anything like either the palanquin or the men. The queen laughed, softly, and told me to climb in. I stepped into the palanquin, marveling at the carved and gilded wood, the brilliant silk curtains, the cushions soft as cloud. Amestris settled beside me, graceful as a cat, and took my hand. I was glad of that a moment later, as the palanquin rose and moved; I clutched her hand hard.

“Don't worry, Vashti. The bearers will not let us fall.” Amestris seemed to know my every thought, although I suppose it was not hard to guess what I was thinking. “Would you like to look out?” she asked, and I nodded, still astounded at my good fortune in being chosen by Queen Mother Amestris. For what I had been chosen, I did not know. My mother had taught me not to ask questions.

Amestris lifted her hand and pulled back one of the curtains. The bearers carried us smoothly at a swift, sure pace; the tiled walls lining the street seemed to flow past, rivers of bright color. The sight made me dizzy. And suddenly fear touched me, turned my skin cold.

Again Amestris understood me without words; she let the curtain fall, closing out the frightening wonders I had wished to see for so long. “Too much, too suddenly,” she said. “You have never traveled in a litter before, Vashti?”

“I have never left our house before, O queen.” For one horrible moment I wished myself back in that house, where I knew each step I must take, each word I must speak. My eyes burned; I squeezed my lids shut against tears.

“Never? Well, that changes now, little one.” Amestris stroked my cheek. “Soon you will be accustomed to living as a princess should. And that does not mean dwelling like a frog at the bottom of a well.”

I opened my eyes and stared at her.
Yes, that is what I was. A frog in a well.
Until that moment, no such thought would even have touched my mind. Greatly daring, I asked my first question of her. “What does it mean, to live as a princess should?”

Queen Mother Amestris smiled and smoothed back my hair. “It means to learn whatever you wish to learn and to do whatever pleases your heart. What do you think would please your heart, Vashti?”

“I…” I nearly said I did not know. Then, as I looked into the queen's dark eyes, I found the courage to answer truthfully. “I would like to see the Ishtar Gate, O queen. I want to see the dragons and the bulls.”

*   *   *

So at last I saw the Ishtar Gate. I stood beside the blazing blue walls and set my hands upon the gold dragons and red bulls. I counted them, all the one hundred and fifty-two guardians of the gate. And I saw the dry moat beneath the gate in which the royal lions had once been housed. The lion's den was empty now; the beasts had been taken by King Darius as part of Babylon's tribute.

I saw the Hanging Gardens, too—the queen took me there after I had marveled at the Ishtar Gate. We walked up the long ramps to the highest level of the gardens, the queen holding my hand as I gaped at the trees rising on terraces above us. When we reached the top, all Babylon lay spread below us like a richly woven carpet. Walls forty feet high bounded the city; nine gates permitted entrance. Tiles brilliant as summer sky covered the walls; gilded bronze gleamed at the gates. To the north soared the shining blue towers of the Ishtar Gate. That men had built so marvelous a creation as Babylon amazed me. I had never before seen anything so beautiful.

“Are these gardens not magnificent, Vashti? They were created for a princess whose husband indulged her every desire.” Queen Mother Amestris smiled down at me. “Just as your husband will indulge you, my dear. Yes, I think I chose wisely when I chose you.”

Already I felt more at ease with her than I ever had with my own mother. So I dared ask more questions. “What have you chosen me for? To be your daughter?” I thought I would like to be Amestris's daughter.

“Is that your highest ambition, Vashti? I'm flattered. And in a way, you are right, for I have chosen you to be my son's wife. You will be Queen of Queens, Vashti.”

“I will?”

“Yes,” Amestris said, “you will.”

We walked slowly back down the long ramps until at last we reached the true ground once more. The Queen Mother's palanquin waited there, and Amestris's eunuchs handed her in. With far less grace, I followed. As the palanquin carried us away, I stared back at the Hanging Gardens.

“I will be a queen?” I asked, and she smiled.

“Yes, my dear. You will be a queen.”

“If a princess does whatever pleases her, what does a queen do?”

Instead of answering, Amestris pulled an ivory ball from behind one of the blue-and-yellow-striped cushions and set it upon my lap. I stared down at the ball. My hands barely fit around it; small dragons coiled about the ball, carven into the new ivory.

“A puzzle for you,” Amestris said. “If you can find your way past the dragons and open the ball, you will find a treasure within.”

I had never owned a puzzle before. I stared at the carved ivory dragons as if they might speak and reveal the secret. Amestris put her hands over mine and moved my fingers over the curves and ridges.

“Feel this line, Vashti. Twist here. I will tell you no more—see if you can find what I have hidden for you inside the ball.”

Encouraged by the slight movement beneath my fingers, I spent the rest of our ride to the palace in Babylon engaged in a struggle with the puzzle-ball. The task so engrossed me that I forgot to wonder about a queen's life. And when at last the ivory sphere opened, a gold lion, small and perfect, fell into my lap.

I was so delighted that it never even occurred to me to wonder about my king and whether he would like me—and I, him.

*   *   *

I had my heart set on being carried out of Babylon through the Ishtar Gate, between the white and yellow lions adorning the walls along the Procession Way. When I learned we were to leave Babylon by the Uras Gate instead, my disappointment was so great I could have wept. But never in all my life had weeping gained me the least favor from my mother or father, and so I did not weep now.

Nor did I need to, for Queen Amestris easily read my moods. Now she explained why the Uras Gate had been chosen—

“Because this gate opens to the south, Vashti. Unless you wish us to add nearly a day to our journey, the Uras is a better choice. Do you truly wish to cross half Babylon to the Ishtar Gate, and then circle around the city back almost to the Uras Gate, only for the pleasure of leaving by the north?”

Amestris paused, as if she would alter her commands if I wished it so. But I knew the answer she wished me to make. Under her amused, tolerant gaze, I shook my head.

“A wise choice, Vashti. And once we pass through the Uras Gate, you will be able to look upon the river. You will like that.”

As always, Amestris was right. I did like seeing the Euphrates. A broad, flat ribbon of water, its smooth surface reflected the sky's clouds. I knew a bridge crossed the river, linking the western and the eastern halves of Babylon, but I did not see it. The bridge lay behind us, hidden by the city walls.

*   *   *

My eyes opened so wide, so often, during the journey from Babylon to Shushan that Amestris told me I would soon be round-eyed as an owl—

“And never again will you be able to close your eyes to sleep at night.” Amestris touched her fingertips to my lashes, making me blink; she laughed. “There, you see? You can still shut your eyes. Not an owl yet.”

I laughed too, rather uncertainly. Then, since the Queen Mother merely smiled upon me, I returned to staring at the world beyond. The land lay flat between the Euphrates and the Tigris. Flat and golden-green with crops; irrigation ditches crossed and recrossed the even earth, river water bringing life to desert. Men and oxen labored in the fields. I asked Queen Mother Amestris what they did there.

“Plow and plant and reap, I suppose,” she said, and then, when I ventured more questions, she shook her head. “If you wish to know more, you must wait until I can summon a farmer to teach you. But my dear child, you will never need to know such boring things.”

I accepted this as I accepted all that I was told: I believed what she said was truth. And I must admit that I already dearly loved this new world in which I was petted and adored. How could I not enjoy such warm affection, such indulgence? Amestris seemed to know all I desired before I uttered a word, and nothing I wanted was withheld.

By day, I was permitted to gaze out freely—Amestris drew back one of the carven shutters so that not even the impediment of curtains sheer as morning mist came between me and the slow-changing land. When that diversion palled, as it did after an hour or two, Amestris ordered one of her eunuchs to tell me stories. He was very old, and knew so many songs and tales it would have taken a far longer journey than ours was to be to hear even the half of them. He told a tale of a prince who abandoned all his riches and rank to travel the world as a holy man; another of a queen so lovely two great nations warred over her for ten long years; still another of a boy raised by a pack of wolves.

And when I missed my mother—for I did, especially at night—Amestris swiftly changed my mood, dazzling me with a new bauble, a toy, a bright gem. The journey from Babylon to Shushan took twenty days. Even though we traveled the Royal Road, which messengers could ride from Sardis to Shushan in a week, an entourage as large and cumbersome as the Queen Mother's moved with regal deliberation. At last, despite Amestris's efforts to prevent it, I grew bored riding in the extravagant litter, as spacious and opulent as a palace chamber, and demanded to be allowed to walk—

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