Lilah (12 page)

‘Lilah is back, Master Mordechai! Lilah is back!'

She stopped when she saw Antinoes. She caught her breath, and a radiant smile lit her rain-drenched face. ‘She's here, she's fine. The cupbearer brought her back in his gilded chariot. He was soaking wet and shivering, and nowhere near as proud as he was this morning.'

Night had fallen and the lamps had been lit in the long communal room by the time Lilah, in a weary voice, finished telling the story of her encounter with Parysatis. She sat bolt upright, despite the exhaustion in her face, which was accentuated by the shadows cast by the lamps. But only Antinoes noticed the grave, hard gleam in her eyes.

Overjoyed that she was back, Mordechai and Sarah plied her with questions. Sarah and Axatria wanted to hear again how she had been bathed and scented, and how she had passed through the veils in the reception room, while Mordechai was anxious to understand clearly what the Queen had told her.

Lilah replied calmly, carefully avoiding describing
the tunic she had been forced to wear, as well as some of the things Parysatis had said at the edge of the lion pit.

Antinoes watched her in silence, reining in his desire to take her in his arms, caress her and reassure them both as he breathed in her scent. Lilah's composure, the curious assurance she showed after such a day, intimidated him, he had to admit, made her seem slightly strange to him, for the very first time since they had become Antinoes and Lilah.

‘So Parysatis didn't forbid anything, didn't demand anything?' he asked at last, concealing his surprise.

‘No,' Lilah replied, looking him straight in the eyes, and smiling tenderly at him, with even a touch of amusement. ‘The Queen has a high opinion of Antinoes, hero of the King of Kings. She intends to make him a lord of the Citadel.'

‘May Ahura Mazda protect me!' Antinoes cried. ‘That's an admirer I could do without!'

‘Why?' Sarah asked. ‘You should be pleased.' She turned a casket upside-down in front of them. The necklaces and bracelets that Lilah had worn in the palace fell onto the table with a jingling noise. ‘Look! Gold, silver, even lapis-lazuli! Would the Queen have offered these jewels to Lilah if she had something bad in mind?'

Antinoes whistled through his teeth. ‘Less than a
year ago, Parysatis gave the wife of one of her nephews some rings. One for each finger. Then she commanded her eunuchs to cut off the poor woman's hands and feed them, with the rings on, to her lions. She was screaming with pain, so Parysatis made her drink a potion that burned her throat to a cinder. That way, she was able to watch her die slowly, as her blood drained away, without being disturbed by her screams.'

‘God of heaven!'

A shiver passed through them all, which had nothing to do with the coolness of the storm. They did not dare look at each other, let alone at Lilah.

Lilah laid a hand on Antinoes' thigh. ‘Come now,' she said, with a soft, warm laugh. ‘Don't frighten us any more than you have to. We all know what the Queen is like. But she didn't cut anything off me and her lions seemed to have eaten their fill. She was curious to see a young Jewish woman. There's nothing extraordinary about that.'

Antinoes met her eyes and nodded, a trifle hesitantly.

‘A young Jewish woman who'll soon be the wife of a great Persian,' Mordechai said. ‘In my opinion, we mustn't delay your wedding any longer. Antinoes already went to see Ezra. Too bad for Ezra!'

Lilah stiffened, and her mouth set in a hard line. She took her hand off Antinoes' thigh.

‘I thought it was my duty to speak to him,' Antinoes said softly.

‘And you can imagine how it turned out.' Mordechai sighed. ‘He treated Antinoes like a stranger. The shame of it!'

Antinoes smiled to tone down Mordechai's criticism. ‘Ezra is famous in the lower town. The children showed me the way to his house. Everyone was impressed with the chariot and the escort.'

‘But of course!' Lilah said coldly. ‘A war chariot with an escort, an armed officer! I'm sure it was most impressive.'

‘Lilah!' Sarah protested.

‘It was pointless to set Ezra against you any more than he already is,' Lilah went on, to Antinoes.

‘Lilah,' Mordechai cut in impatiently, ‘it doesn't really matter what Ezra thinks. You don't need his blessing to marry Antinoes. You have mine, and that's all that matters.'

‘Oh, yes!' Lilah said. ‘That's all that matters. It's the law, and Ezra can't complain about that.'

‘The important thing is to hurry up before the Queen changes her mind. Ezra will come round.'

Neither Lilah nor Antinoes seemed to be listening to Sarah and Mordechai. They were looking at each other. Antinoes would have liked to explain why he had needed to see Ezra, and that he had taken care to avoid an ugly confrontation. But Lilah's face
silenced him. Her beauty was unchanged, despite the strain that showed in her taut cheeks and temples, and in her pursed lips. But a curious flame burned in her eyes. It had been there ever since her return from the Queen's palace. An icy flame, calm and intense at the same time, which she had never had before.

Then she closed her eyes. Antinoes had the impression that Lilah was retreating from him. That, too, was a new sensation.

While Mordechai was still speaking, Lilah stood up. Antinoes immediately did likewise, without daring to touch her.

‘No, Uncle,' Lilah said calmly. ‘I know you're thinking only of my good, but things can't happen like that. Parysatis doesn't really care whether I marry Antinoes or not. Whatever we do she can undo with a word. As for Ezra . . .'

She turned to Antinoes and placed her hand on his chest, as if leaning on him for support. He took her wrist and held it.

‘Antinoes has known since the first day we loved each other,' Lilah said, ‘that we need Ezra's blessing before we can marry.'

‘Lilah!' Sarah cried, standing up.

Mordechai seized Sarah's shoulders and clasped her to him.

‘What I'm saying is true, Aunt Sarah. What would
our marriage be like if I could never see Ezra again?'

Again there was silence.

Without a word, without even attempting to touch her, Antinoes walked away from Lilah. A few moments later, he rode off in his chariot. The rain had only just stopped, and the soldiers of the escort, bellies heavy with beer, had to wade through the muddy streets.

It was several more days before everyone breathed more easily. So many significant events had taken place in such a short time that everyday life had faltered.

The wedding of Lilah and Antinoes had not been forgotten, but no one spoke of it. At Mordechai's vigorous urging, Sarah – in an unaccustomed effort – managed to hold her tongue and even to avoid meaningful glances.

Meanwhile, as the autumn sun returned to the transparent sky over Susa, the thought of the Queen was on everyone's mind, as threatening as a cloud of ash. It would wake Mordechai at night, and during the day he would often stop in his work, thinking that he could hear the third cupbearer's chariot.

As for Lilah, she would wake with Parysatis' smile before her eyes. In her dreams, the Queen's ambiguous caresses became reality again. She saw
herself standing naked on the platform above the lion pit. And the lions all had the Queen's face, that strange face like an aged child's.

Her anger with Antinoes, for stupidly strutting about the lower town in his warrior's uniform, had faded. She was sorely tempted to run to him and melt in his arms, to find again the peace and trust she had once known. Who else could she tell about the resolution she had made during her humiliating visit to Parysatis?

She resisted the temptation. Deep inside her, a decision was being born, a decision which went beyond love, but which she would eventually share with her beloved just as she had shared the breath of desire.

But it was not yet time.

In any case, Antinoes was quite busy. Every day he had to go to the Citadel. Like all officers of his rank, he had to appear in the great royal courtyard of the Apadana, while the King of Kings was taking his meal, either alone or with a few of his concubines.

Then, if he so wished, Artaxerxes would summon some of his officers to keep him company behind a screen. He would question his generals and heroes about their battles and the customs of the countries they had passed through or conquered.

A quarter of a moon passed in this way. Then
finally, one morning, Axatria prepared the basket of provisions to take to the lower town.

When Lilah saw her, she smiled in approval.

It was ‘the day of her day', as Sogdiam called it. She was ready to see Ezra and, at last, to say to him the words she had uttered a hundred times in the silence of the night.

Lilah and Axatria each carried one strap of the basket. As usual, the children walked with them, shouting. This time they were close to the house before Sogdiam came to meet them. Eyes bright with annoyance as well as excitement, he explained without pausing for breath that he had known Lilah would come today and that he hadn't forgotten her. ‘But just as I was leaving the house, Ezra wanted me to make some herb tea and bake a few little loaves. He and Master Baruch have a visitor. Someone important!' He took hold of the leather strap of the basket, which Lilah was holding in order to take some of the weight off Axatria. ‘Someone important, and someone he hasn't quarrelled with,' he added, stealing a glance at Lilah.

‘Antinoes should never have come in a chariot.'

‘Yes, he should!' Sogdiam protested. ‘Everyone was pleased to see such a fine chariot in our streets. It doesn't happen often.' Sogdiam paused for a moment, lost in thought. ‘He's handsome, too,'
he said, his voice throbbing with admiration. ‘And kind, for a Persian. Ezra lost his temper, but Antinoes was calm – as if the enemy were firing arrows at him on a battlefield and every one of them missed.'

Lilah blushed, and looked away.

Axatria had the presence of mind to change the subject. ‘What makes you say the visitor is important?' she asked.

‘Because he is,' Sogdiam said. ‘Ezra and Master Baruch stopped studying as soon as he entered the courtyard, and Master Baruch stood up to greet him. Zachariah, his name is, Zachariah, son of Pareosh. They ordered me to bring him food and drink. It's obvious he's important, Axatria.'

As they crossed the courtyard towards the kitchen, Lilah and Axatria glanced at the study, the door of which was open as usual. Master Baruch, Ezra and the visitor were sitting on stools, conversing animatedly.

Lilah had no idea who the man was, but she immediately identified him as one of those Jews from Susa or Babylon who, unlike her Uncle Mordechai, still dressed in the manner of the old days before the exile. He wore a long tunic with dark blue and grey stripes and a cylindrical hat. His hair was short and thick, and his beard long and
sparse, neither trimmed nor shaped in the style the Persians preferred. He seemed taller than Ezra and at least forty years old. His mouth was small, his eyes mobile, his voice insistent. He underlined his words with his chubby hands, as if he were writing them in the air.

Axatria and Lilah were careful to empty the basket quietly in the kitchen. They could hear the voices in the study, but the walls muffled them, so that only the occasional word reached them. Soon Lilah's curiosity got the better of her. She placed a finger on her lips to silence Axatria and Sogdiam, slipped out of the kitchen and slid along the corridor with her shoulder against the wall until she was close to the study door.

‘Ezra, what I say, I think,' the stranger was saying. ‘Everyone in my family thinks it, too. I have a hundred and fifty sons and nephews. Your letter planted an arrow in our hearts. We knew nothing of the disaster. We were happy with the work Nehemiah was doing in Jerusalem—'

‘You were happy because you were here, living a life of luxury!' Master Baruch interrupted him, sarcastically. ‘You weren't with Nehemiah. You didn't care what was happening in Jerusalem, where happiness still has no place! You forgot about the wrath of the Everlasting, who chased us from the land of Judaea for being deaf to His word.'

‘You're right, Master Baruch. You're only too right!'

‘Of course I'm right, Zachariah! The things I reproach in you, I reproach in myself a hundredfold. We are here, under the protection of the King of the Persians, while the Everlasting waits for us there.'

‘That is the way things are,' Ezra interrupted, in a firm, calm voice. ‘Some of the children of Israel are here, and some are there. In other words, they are nowhere. They have been a people, from father to son, but they are no longer a nation living on the land to which Yahweh led Abraham.'

‘So why did Nehemiah fail?' Zachariah cried. ‘He left at the will of the King of Kings. He left with gold and soldiers. He left with the hand of Yahweh upon him!'

‘Are you so sure?' Ezra asked.

‘What do you mean?'

‘If Yahweh's hand had been upon him, he would not have failed.' Master Baruch sighed. ‘Since when has the will of Yahweh not been done? Do you think, Zachariah, my friend, that the walls of Jerusalem and the Temple would not have been rebuilt if Yahweh had wanted it?'

‘That's where the error lies,' Ezra said, in the same even tone. ‘Nehemiah went to rebuild the walls, but Yahweh did not support him. Why?
Because it is not only the walls of Jerusalem that need to be rebuilt, Zachariah.'

‘I know,' Zachariah said. ‘The Temple too and—'

‘It was hearts and minds that broke down the walls of the Temple,' Ezra asserted. ‘It was hearts and minds that allowed Babylon to reduce the land of Judaea to dust. It is hearts and minds that must be rebuilt before we can put the stones back on the walls.'

There was a silence.

‘You're right, Ezra,' Zachariah said, in a low voice. ‘As the proverb says, “The fathers eat sour grapes and the sons' teeth are set on edge.”'