Read Game of Queens Online

Authors: India Edghill

Game of Queens (23 page)

BOOK: Game of Queens
3.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Hegai, do you know a lady in the palace named Cassandane? She is old, but very beautiful.”

“Yes, I know of her.” Laughter warmed Hegai's voice. “And she is not so very old.”

“Not as old as Queen Mother Amestris?” I asked.

“No, not so old as that. Where did you meet her, my queen? Was she unkind to you?”

Faintly baffled by the question, I shook my head. No one in all the palace had ever been unkind to me. I could not imagine such a thing. But still
“The word of Queen Vashti is the best we can do”
whispered behind my ears. Not unkind words—not meant unkindly, at any rate.

But were they true? Was my word worth so little?

No. I am Queen Ishvari's granddaughter. I will do as I have promised.

Hegai hugged me and set me down. “No, I did not think the lady Cassandane would be unkind. Did you like her, my queen?”

“Oh, yes.” I saw again Cassandane's face lit with joy as she ran to Captain Dariel, and then the sickly white beneath her skin when her eyes saw me watching them. “Hegai—may I have the lady Cassandane to serve in my household?”

I thought this ploy very clever, and it did not once occur to me that my wish would be denied.

Nor was it. The lady Cassandane joined my household, and soon it seemed she had always been a part of my life. Too clever to attempt to act as a mother to me—that role belonged to Amestris—Cassandane claimed the position of elder sister for herself. She taught me the value of silence, and how to listen. Men, Cassandane told me solemnly, wished to be entertained.

“And nothing amuses a man quite so much as talking about himself,” Cassandane said. “If you remember only one thing about men, my queen, remember that.”

I did not always listen to Cassandane's wise words; why should I? Cassandane, too, indulged me and bowed to my will. I was the queen, and she only one of the last king's concubines. And I knew a secret about her that would be her death if I breathed so much as one word of it. So Cassandane did her best to teach me what I was willing to learn, but fear and caution kept her from denying me anything I chose to demand.

It was Queen Mother Amestris who still ruled my days. Only later did I understand how thoroughly I was her creation. And although a few tried to mitigate her influence on me, they could only hope I would heed them, and that their tending would someday bear sweet fruit. And they had to work subtly, and in shadow.

No one dared openly defy Amestris.

It never occurred to me even to try. All Amestris ever desired of me was that I amuse myself and please her son. I did not realize then that she had no intention of ever surrendering the reins of power; she strove to create two beautiful, frivolous puppets. Amestris wished me to put my own pleasure above all else; I did not have many duties as queen, and those few formed the only dull spots in my bright butterfly life.

*   *   *

One of my duties I found not only dull, but unpleasant: I disliked choosing new girls for the king's harem. I silently scolded myself for this, calling myself selfish and unkind—for why should Ahasuerus not enjoy pleasures I could not yet offer him?

At first, when told I must learn to choose girls for my husband's harem, I was shocked. Then, as Amestris explained to me why I must learn to do this, my shock and embarrassment faded, replaced by a desire to prove to the Queen Mother that I
could
behave in a proper manner; I
did
possess the skills a queen must have. Something in Amestris's tone of voice always had that effect: irritating and inspiring.

“A king must have more and better than any other man. A king must possess only the best. His women are gems upon his robes, and they must be gems of flawless quality. Someday I will not stand here beside you, Vashti. You must learn to choose the king's jewels. Remember, only the best, the most beautiful. The King of Kings must possess nothing that is not perfect.”

So simply as that, Amestris reminded me again that I was the most beautiful, the most perfect, of Ahasuerus's possessions.

*   *   *

I still remember the first time it was my duty to gaze upon beautiful girls and decide which would pass into the king's harem and which would leave weeping and rejected. I was sitting in the queen's courtyard, trailing peacock feathers for my Chin puppy to chase, when Hegai came to me. I smiled and ran to him, but stopped when he bowed low to me.

“O queen, will it please you to look upon the maidens that have been brought to the palace, and choose those that will remain for the pleasure of the King of Kings?”

Queen Mother Amestris had told me I must do this; still I was taken by surprise.
Choose concubines for Ahasuerus? Now?
I stared at Hegai, too dismayed to speak.

Hegai put his arm around me. “The sooner it pleases the queen to come, the sooner the task will be completed.”

I followed Hegai to a vast room in the Women's Palace. The walls were hung with crimson and yellow curtains embroidered with scenes from the tales of the Loves of Ishtar, and rugs woven bright with flowers covered the smooth stone floor. In the middle of the room half a dozen maidens stood. Their faces were painted so heavily and they were so richly garbed I could not tell what they truly looked like—or one from the other.

I looked up at Hegai, hoping he would indicate which girls he thought I should select for the king's harem, but he did not meet my eyes. So I knew I had to make my own choices.

I stared at the waiting girls, hoping the Good God Ahura Mazda would send a sign telling me which to favor. Then I realized Ishtar, goddess of love, was more likely to be of help in this matter and swiftly and silently petitioned Her for aid. But Ishtar sent no sign either.

I was only ten years old—what did I know of what would please a man? At last I pointed at random.

“That one,” I said, “and that one. And that one.” I stopped, having no real idea of how many new concubines the King of Kings needed. And as I hesitated, I looked again at the girls and saw that one of the three I had not pointed to had tears glinting in her eyes. The second stared at the rug beneath her feet; the third bit her lip hard.

Their sadness spoke to my heart; I could not send them away. Whatever happened to a girl I rejected, that fate drew tears. I drew in a deep breath, and said swiftly,

“And that one and that one and that one too.” I looked up at Hegai, who smiled.

“Good choices, all,” Hegai told me.

*   *   *

But if Hegai was pleased by my kindness, Amestris was not. “Vashti, you are the most foolish child! If you will not listen to me, you should at least listen to Hegai. You must at least make a pretense of judging the girls!”

I stared at the floor between us. I did not say that Hegai had smiled at me, approved my generosity in choosing all the girls. Nor did I say that I remembered each of Amestris's rulings perfectly, but that I had simply found myself unable to carry them out. “I am sorry. But the ones who thought themselves unchosen wept, and—”

“And found the right weapon to make you surrender.” Amestris sighed. “Well, there is nothing to do about it now. But next time, Vashti, at least ask to look upon them unclothed. Or make them wash the makeup from their faces!”

I raised my head and saw an indulgent smile on Amestris's red lips.

*   *   *

But all childhood ends. Mine lasted longer than that of many girls, for Amestris saw no need to rush me into her son's bed. “Yes, you are a woman now,” she told me the year I turned fourteen, and began to bleed with the moon. “But you are still not a woman grown. Trust me, there is no need for haste.”

I did trust her; how should I not? She had been nothing but kind and indulgent since the hour she had come to take me out of my old life and into this one. So I happily continued as Ahasuerus's friend and companion—and continued to pick pretty concubines for his bed—for another two years. I did not understand how my unnaturally prolonged childhood affected my husband's feelings for me, or how gravely it damaged our marriage.

HEGAI

There never seemed enough hours to accomplish all I must; the position of Chief Eunuch to the harem of the King of Kings is no sinecure. Sometimes, as I gravely allotted garments to the king's women, or tallied up the nights they had spent in the king's bed, I would stop and stare and suddenly realize that after all the days and nights that had passed, I was no closer to my goal of destroying Haman than I had been the day he killed my mother. Had his death been all I desired, I could have sunk a knife into him a dozen times over, not caring if I escaped punishment for the deed. But I wanted more than just Haman's death.

I wanted him ruined. I wanted him to know that I had triumphed and he failed utterly.

I wanted him to suffer.

So I waited.

That was what I told myself, and I thought it truth. I told myself I dreamed only of vengeance, never realizing another dream waited for me.

It is never wise to tempt the gods, especially Ishtar. What could be more enticing to the Lady of Love and War than my serene belief in my iron control over my passions and my heart?

Fifteen years lay between us; I was old enough to have fathered her, had I been a whole man. I counted far too heavily on those fifteen years to safeguard me.

But time is mutable; years melt away like sugar in the rain.

When we first laid eyes upon each other, she was ten years old, and I was twenty-five. She was a child and I full-grown. But as she grew, the gulf between our years altered, as if time itself flowed differently for her than it did for me.

When Vashti was fifteen and I thirty, I had changed very little since the day I lifted her out of the royal palanquin and ushered her into the Women's Palace. But those five years had wrought magic on Vashti. The little girl had vanished; in her place stood a woman. And although I did not yet know it, my heart no longer belonged to me. It was hers. Forever.

All that remained was for Ishtar to blow the dust from my blind eyes at the time and place of Her choosing.

How odd to think that two yelping wolf cubs changed the course of the Persian Empire. But they did.

*   *   *

The king wished to hunt, and so the court hunted. The queen wished to do whatever the king did, and so I and a dozen miserable eunuchs attended her. As we galloped after the king, I again gave silent thanks to Lord Orodes, who had let me learn to ride a horse properly.

Ahasuerus hoped for lion, but he hunted only an hour's ride from Shushan; too close to the city for lions. After a long morning of seeking and backtracking, he at last flushed quarry. A wolf ran almost under his stallion's hooves; Ahasuerus shouted in delight and spurred him after the fleeing wolf. Of course all the rest of us sent our own mounts charging after him—and Vashti, who was more daring than skillful on horseback, raced past everyone save the king.

The wolf led us through brush and into rising hills. By now the beast tired, and at last, in a narrow ravine, it turned at bay, sides heaving. In the time it took me to draw a few breaths, Ahasuerus sent half-a-dozen arrows into the exhausted animal and claimed the kill. As the courtiers acclaimed him as the son of Nimrod himself, Vashti urged her fretting horse closer to the dead beast.

“Look, Ahasuerus—it's a bitch. See, she is nursing cubs.” Vashti stared down at the fallen wolf.

Ahasuerus glanced at his prey. “So she was.” He then gazed around at the sides of the ravine. “I wonder if she led us to her whelps? You”—he gestured to the nearest Immortal—“search the area for the wolf's lair.”

I sighed inwardly. I doubted the lair could be found, and the hunt had led us far from Shushan. Even if we turned back now, we would not ride back into the palace until nightfall. However, what the King of Kings wanted, he got, and so I edged my horse closer to Vashti's, prepared to wait patiently. When I was beside her, I saw at once that something troubled her. Her crystal eyes were clouded, her tender mouth set in a tight line. I reached out and gently touched her hand.

“What perturbs my queen?”

Vashti stared past me, watching as a dozen Immortals searched about the ravine for the she-wolf's lair. “I wish she had escaped.”

“You have a tender heart, my queen.”

“Do I?” Vashti twisted in her saddle so that she could face me squarely. “She ran so long and so hard, but in vain.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Oh, Hegai, I wish—”

At that moment shouts from the searching Immortals drew all attention to them. Ahasuerus whooped with triumph. “They've found the den!” Even as he drew breath to speak again, an Immortal ran up to him and went down on one knee beside his horse.

“It is even as the king says. We have the cubs—two only, O king.” The Immortal spoke as if the lack of more wolf cubs were a fault of the searchers.

“Bring them here.” Ahasuerus beckoned, and two more Immortals approached, each holding a wolf cub by the scruff of its neck.

The cubs were small as yet; I judged them to be perhaps two months old. Dangling from the Immortals' iron grasp, the cubs squirmed and whimpered. Ahasuerus regarded the frightened little creatures with satisfaction.

“Excellent,” he said, and smiled at the Immortals, who bowed their heads in acknowledgment of his praise. “Easier to take the evil beasts now, before they've ravaged a farmer's flock.”

Beside me, I sensed Vashti tense, her hands tightening on the reins. Her horse danced sideways in protest and I reached out and caught the reins just below its chin. Beside Ahasuerus's horse, the two Immortals held the wolf cubs high, so that all might see them. One cub hung limp, whimpering faintly. The other cub still struggled against its captor and uttered outraged yelps.

“What is the king's will?” one of the immortals asked.

Ahasuerus said, “Cut their throats.”

And Vashti cried “No!” and flung herself off her horse so fast she landed on her hands and knees in the dust.

BOOK: Game of Queens
3.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Children Of The Mist by Jenny Brigalow
Hiding Edith by Kathy Kacer
Speed Dating by Natalie Standiford
The End of Games by Tara Brown
Bride of the Castle by John Dechancie
The Accidental Family by Rowan Coleman
The Death Artist by Jonathan Santlofer
Graveyard Plots by Bill Pronzini
Hothouse Flower by Lucinda Riley