Game of Queens (29 page)

“You'll find a way to achieve it, I know you will. You are so clever!”

Slowly, I said, “Not so clever as you, my queen.”

She was right; her scheme would work. Nothing would turn their hair the pure pale moonlight of Vashti's, but her dancers would perform before men who had been drinking all evening, would move constantly under the shifting light of torches and lamps. Powdered with gold dust and covered with veils of sheer glittering silver, all the dancers would seem to have queen's hair—at least for one night.

Delight shone in Vashti's eyes. “Clever? Do you truly think so?”

I nodded, afraid to do more. Afraid that if I so much as touched my fingertips to her cheek I would not be able to stop with chaste caresses.

She flung her arms around me and kissed my cheek, then danced around me, chanting, “
Wise and clever, Hegai is most wise and clever,”
until I could not resist laughing. Once she had made me laugh, she stopped and grasped my hands.

“And I, too, have a cunning thought, Hegai. Varkha shall be one of my dancers! There, am I not almost as wise and clever as you?” Vashti rubbed my hands against her cheek, then released me and began twirling about me once again.
“Wise and clever, you and I are wise and clever!”
she sang as she danced.

I looked down at my hands, still warm from her touch.
Wise and clever—
But neither wise nor clever enough to rule my mind or my heart. I could only do my best to keep my beloved happy.

And when Vashti won her wager with Ahasuerus, she would be delighted with me again, and hug me and kiss my cheek.

Her arms holding me tight. Her lips warm against my cheek.
Only for a moment, but that moment would be enough.

It will have to be enough. It is not only Varkha who desires what he can never have.

*   *   *

The ill-starred jest began well enough. Halfway through King Ahasuerus's banquet for the chiefest princes of the realm, a dozen dancers clad in gauzy gold-and-silver garments whirled in, bells chiming. No, not twelve: thirteen. The thirteenth was Vashti.

One of the dancers swayed forward, bowed deeply before the king. “Great king, one of us is a fit mate for you. Choose, great king. Choose your queen.” Without pause, she spun back among the other dancers.

The music rose and fell, the dancers curved and turned—and the guests loudly guessed that each dancer in turn was the queen. I stood close by the king's chair, listening to the bawdy comments of his guests, who were dazzled by the swaying, spinning figures. Ahasuerus himself seemed amazed. He stared intently at the dancers, his gaze darting over the veiled faces. He leaned forward as Varkha curved and twirled before him. For a moment I thought Ahasuerus would raise his scepter, but then he sat back again and I saw him frown.

He does not recognize her. He cannot choose her from the others.
I could not imagine how he could not find Vashti among the dancers. But Ahasuerus had watched Vashti swirl past him a dozen times and not known his own wife.

The music slowed; obeying the drumbeat, the dancers swayed before the king like white poppies in a gentle wind. “Very clever,” Ahasuerus said, “but I am not deceived by a clever trick.” He rose to his feet and pointed the scepter to his choice. The dancer came forward, bowed, and touched the tip of the golden scepter. Then the dancer lifted the silver veil.

It was Varkha.

That was the last banquet that King Ahasuerus permitted Queen Vashti to attend in any guise. “She is the queen,” he told me after the dancers had swirled out again, taking Vashti and her laughter with them. “It is not meet or proper that the queen attend men's banquets, or be seen by men's eyes. You are the Chief Eunuch, Hegai—you are in charge of the queen. Tell her she must behave like a queen. Now go.”

I bowed very low. “As the King of Kings commands,” I said, and went away before he thought of any more commands he wished to add. Telling this one to Vashti was going to be bad enough.

VASHTI

The year that I had been Queen of Queens for half my life, Ahasuerus decided to demonstrate his power and his generosity by giving a feast that would last a full seven days. All the princes would be invited, and the great warriors, and every manner of man in all the empire.

And I did not see why I, too, should not attend. I had spent the last hour first asking, then cajoling, and now begging, Ahasuerus to let me attend his great feast. For once, he had steadfastly denied me, something I was not accustomed to. “No,” was not a word I often heard.

“But Ahasuerus, I can borrow some of your royal robes. We'll fool everyone again. I'll be a prince—I'll be the prince of—of Cherkessia!” For a heartbeat I thought I'd won, and then Ahasuerus sighed, and shook his head again.

“Oh, Vashti,” he said, “don't be silly.”

*   *   *

My husband's refusal to permit me to attend his great feast incensed me. Every time I remembered his rebuke, my irritation grew. How dare he speak to me so? Had he not once been as eager as I to deceive the courtiers, to create jests, to amuse ourselves at their expense? I frowned; tried to remember when Ahasuerus had last laughed with me, eager to fool the court. When he wagered on my ability to deceive him as a dancer—so long ago as that—?

“
Vashti, don't be silly…”

Those few words explain why I decided to hold a feast of my own, for the wives and daughters of the king's guests. If the King of Kings could give a great banquet for his half of the world, the Queen of Queens could do as much for her portion of the empire. Once my anger at Ahasuerus faded, the idea of my own feast became more and more pleasing.

Of course there had been queen's feasts before, but those had been small, intimate gatherings. This feast of mine would be on the same grand scale as the king's. Everything the king's feast had, the queen's would have also. And I would have new garments for the feast—and a new crown. I ordered Hegai to oversee the creation of the crown, telling him I wished it to be the most beautiful adornment ever created. Then I went running down to the kitchens to badger the cooks into producing the newest, most costly, most intriguing dishes ever invented.

When I told Amestris—although of course she knew already, having been informed the moment I spoke the words that set preparations for the feast into motion—she smiled, and approved. And so did Ahasuerus. He ordered that whatsoever I desired for my own banquet should be given me.

*   *   *

Cloth of gold and silver draped my banqueting hall; I ordered the rarest wines and most precious spices to give savor to the delicacies that would be served. And I demanded a fountain whose water would be scented with attar of roses.

Seven outfits were sewn for me, one for each night of the feast. Each night's garment was a different color, adorned with different gems. I was pleased with this notion. But nothing pleased me so much as the new crown that Hegai created for me.

Hegai carried the crown to me upon a cushion of silk the deep blue of a full-moon midnight. “Here is your Star Crown, O Queen of Stars. Does it please you?”

I stared, dazzled by perfection. A broad circlet of ruddy gold, etched with the symbols of the heavens about the band. Pure rock crystal formed tiny stars. That was all—but it was so beautiful my breath caught in my throat and my eyes glistened.

“Oh,
Hegai.
” That was all I could say, but that seemed to be enough. Hegai smiled.

“Put it on, little queen. I wish to see its stars shining against your hair.”

Carefully, I took my new crown into my own hands and set it upon my head. It weighed oddly heavy; I ignored the sensation and let Hegai lead me to his own apartments to gaze upon myself in his tall silver mirror. When I looked into my reflection in the shining silver, I saw that I had been right.

The Star Crown was perfect.

*   *   *

Had Amestris been there, matters would have fallen out differently.

But that last night, Amestris lay ill upon her bed. Very ill, so that the word
poison
slipped from some lips. I was sorry she suffered, but wondered if she had indulged too greatly in the rich foods and wines that had been set before her since my feast began. I sent Hegai to tend her, and forgot the matter as my handmaidens dressed me. So neither Queen Mother Amestris nor Chief Eunuch Hegai was by my side that fateful night.

This was not by chance, of course. As I later learned, the Seven Princes had dared greatly, and paid enough in gold darics for one of Amestris's kitchen maids to add a drop of poison to her food. A drop, to make Amestris ill—although had it killed her, I doubt the Seven Princes would have mourned. Without the Queen Mother at my side, the Seven counted on my own folly to aid their plan. And they were right.

*   *   *

For the seventh and last night of my feast, I wore a gown of cloth woven so thick with gold thread I glittered like a new-lit torch. To display what the world considered my greatest glory, my hair, I had ordered it combed out and left free. The command had scandalized my servants, but the widened eyes as my guests gazed upon my hair proved I had chosen rightly. Over the past days, the women had become accustomed to my gowns, my gems, even my new star-bright crown.

Tonight my guests saw me as the most beautiful Queen of Queens.

As I settled myself into place upon my cushions, I was greatly pleased with myself. For a heartbeat, I wondered what my grandmother Ishvari would think of me now—a thought I hastily pushed away.

*   *   *

It happened thusly, or it did not.

This is truth—or it is not.

The great king over all the lands between the river Sindhu and the Western Sea, from Cush to Colchis, invited all the empire to a feast worthy of his greatness. All the high princes attended this great feast, and all the governors of the one hundred and twenty-seven provinces. All the rich merchants came, and all the far-traveling traders. All the commanders of the army sat at the tables beside the noble lords of the land. All men were welcome at the king's feast.

A pleasant exaggeration, of course. It is true that during the feast, sweet cakes and wine and beer were handed out at the city gates to all who held out their hands for them. But only the nobles, and the wealthy, and the highest officers received invitations to the palace feast, to sit in the presence of the King of Kings.

Tyrian purple linen curtained the great courtyard; cords of purple and gold tied the curtains to silver rings set in marble columns. Each man reclined upon blue and yellow cushions on a couch of silver. Each man was given a goblet of pure heavy gold; each goblet different. And each man had a servant at his side to keep his vessel filled with as much wine as he cared to drink.

Each man kept his wine-goblet, too. Amestris was livid when she learned that; she counted costs. Still, the king created a magnificent setting, stinting on nothing. Including the wine.

And the great king smiled upon all his assembled guests, and commanded them to drink only as they willed. No man was to be constrained to drink as the king did.

Since a custom old when the land was young demanded that men drink each time the king did, this command was a thoughtful act. It was the last thoughtful act committed the seventh evening of the king's great feast.

The feast began at sunset, and continued for seven days and seven nights. Each man ate and drank as pleased him. And the assembled princes and nobles and commanders and merchants drank to the great king. Often and often they drank, and the great king smiled upon them. But the great king himself drank only sparingly of the royal wine.

And on the seventh night, as the moon rose high, the great king drank to his loyal guests.

A mistake; Ahasuerus had a poor head for wine. But the feast had been long and the night grew late, and he longed to rest. Weary, he drank deep of the royal wine each time his guests loudly praised the king's many virtues. And each time, one of the Seven Princes urged Ahasuerus to drink more, and more still.

The great king's guests vied to praise him most highly. The princes extolled his power, his sway over the wide world. The governors of the one hundred and twenty-seven provinces commended his justice. The commanders acclaimed his courage. The merchants applauded his riches. “Surely the great king is the sum of all virtues, and the possessor of all that is best in all the world.”

“I possess everything worth possessing. I am King of Kings, owner of all the world desires.” And King Ahasuerus raised his goblet, of the heaviest gold set all about with pure crystal and sapphires, and drank deep of the royal wine.

“The most precious gems,” someone shouted. “Drink to the king!”

“The most learned mages. Drink to the king!”

“The most valiant soldiers. Drink to the king!”

Ahasuerus drank too, acknowledging their praise. “Great king,” his chamberlain murmured, “the moon nears zenith. Perhaps my lord the king wishes to retire—” A sensible suggestion; one that Ahasuerus ignored. By this time he stood unsteady on his feet, wine and poppy raging in his blood.

“The most beautiful women! Drink to the king!”

A careless, drunken accolade. King Ahasuerus drank deep again, then held out his goblet as if it were the golden scepter of Death and Life. “I do. The most precious, most learned, most valiant. And the most beautiful. Anything that is mine you all may look upon, to know you have spoken truth, which is a Persian's honor.”

All might still have passed safely until sunrise, when the feast ended. But the wine spoke now, rather than the men. Words escaped their lips, apparently unwary. Dangerous words.

“Drink to Queen Vashti!' cried Prince Shethar, the most ambitious of the Seven Princes.