She sat, even reached for the wine.
Her stomach clenched, and she tasted bile. In front of her eyes dropped a hazy veil and on her spirit weighed a desperate need to commune with her Lord. She pushed away from the table and stumbled over to the multi-colored rug under one of the windows. Sinking to her knees was not enough, so she stretched prostrate on the ground.
“Mistress?” Voice alarmed, Desma dropped down beside her. “What is wrong? Do you need a physician? A magi?”
“No.” Never in her life had her insides vibrated with this urgent need to pray. In her father’s house, her faith had been relaxed and easy—here in the palace it seemed to demand every ounce of her being. Was this how it had been for the great prophet Daniel a century ago? For his friends Azariah and Mishael and Mordecai’s ancestor Hananiah?
She was no prophet. But if spending her days in prayer was what Jehovah required in return for his presence, then she would lie on this rug indefinitely.
“Mistress?”
“I must fast and pray, Desma. There is no need for alarm, but I . . . I must. Please go see to your own meals now. I will need nothing further tonight.”
After a moment of silence, feet shuffled out the door. But Desma sat on the corner of the rug, and Theron took up his protective stance against the wall.
The closest she would get to solitude. So be it.
Time washed away, all her senses focused on supplication. She saw only the ever-shifting lights behind her closed eyes, smelled only the sweet fragrance of prayers, heard only the whisper of the Spirit’s wind.
She prayed for her husband. She prayed for herself. She prayed for the queen. She prayed for Esther and Mordecai, for her parents and siblings. She prayed for the children she may someday have. She prayed for Jasmine, for her servants, for the coming war.
Then her door opened and hurried feet pounded into her room. Leda fell to her knees before Desma. “The food—it was poisoned. The dog I fed a bite too has become paralyzed, his breathing slow and hard. Hemlock.”
A chill danced over Kasia’s back. She sat up and looked from one maid to the other.
Desma’s mouth was agape. “How did you know, mistress?”
She shook her head.
Desma swallowed hard, her eyes wide. “Your God watches over you. If you would share him with your servant, I would learn to pray to him as well. For your sake.”
Kasia nodded, even smiled. It would seem she had another true friend in the palace.
She dared not count her enemies.
Ten
Darius cuffed his brother on the side of the head with a laugh. “Hystaspes, you make me late. Go bother Mother.”
The ten-year-old lunged at him with a mighty roar. “I am a lion! You must fight me off, Darius. What if you get attacked by a lion on your way to Greece? They have them in one of the mountain passes, you know. My tutor told me of them today.”
Hence why he had been fending off these lion attacks all afternoon. Yesterday it had been bears. What would come tomorrow? Crocodiles? He flipped the boy off his back, careful to help him land gently. “There, lion, you are defeated. Now stay that way. Father wants me at the feast.”
Hystaspes scowled and rested his elbows on his knees. “It is unfair. Why do you get to meet all the dignitaries while I am expected to eat in the nursery? I am a man too.”
Darius arched a brow. “Amytis and Rhodogune would miss you.”
The boy made a face. “Girls are so dull.”
Darius laughed and tousled Hystaspes’ hair. “If you were a man, you would not think so.”
The boy wrapped his arms around Darius’s legs and held on tight. “Take me with you. I will hide under a rug if I must, but please do not send me back to Mother. She was raving to Haman about some Jewess and will be in a sour temper all evening, then leave for her feast. And I do not want to go to the nursery!”
Darius’s heart tripped at the mention of the new concubine, but he pushed her image away. “Then go find some of our other brothers to play with. What of Parham?”
“He got in trouble, and his mother told him he may not play this evening. Please?”
Darius sent his eyes to the dimming skies. “You can come with me as far as the hall, but then it is up to you to stay out of the way and hidden from Father’s eyes.”
The boy leapt off with a whoop of victory. “Yes! Thank you, Darius. I will be invisible as a specter, I promise.”
Darius straightened his brightly colored tunic and gave his brother a light push, just for the point of it. “Hurry. Hopefully the new guests will still be presenting their gifts, and I will not have missed anything important.”
With Hystaspes dogging his heels, Darius sped to the ceremonial palace where the new guests would be received. At least he was not the only late arrival—Haman rushed up the steps ahead of them.
Darius looked down at his brother. “Why was mother talking to Haman about the Jewess? Did you hear anything?”
Hystaspes shrugged. “They stopped when I came in.”
“Hmm.” He jogged up the endless stone steps and passed through the first of the columns when he realized his brother had stopped. “Hystaspes!”
The boy stood with head craned back. “I have never noticed before that those are griffins up there. Have you ever seen a griffin, Darius? In the wild, I mean?”
His tutor obviously needed to work a little harder. “They are mythical, you blockhead. Are you coming or not?”
“Coming, coming.”
Darius led the way into the great reception hall. Its ceilings soared high overhead, precious stones embedded within the cedar. The black marble columns gleamed and reflected the low light of the sun like a hundred mirrors. Under his feet stretched a carpet as long as the hall, its pattern an intricate mosaic of every color. He motioned his little brother into the shadows and took a moment to survey the gathering.
All around him his father’s military commanders were gathered into tight groups. At the front of the chamber the throne dominated on its step. Father still sat, scepter in hand, and smiled down at the visitors before him. One carried a huge gold bowl, another a length of rolled textile.
Excellent—they had not adjourned to the enclosed garden yet. He skirted the room until he had made his way to the front where several of his uncles waited.
“Ah, Darius, there you are.” Artabanus smiled and motioned him to his side. “A bit late, are you not?”
“I was waylaid by a ferocious lion.”
His father’s uncle loosed a rich laugh. “Was the lion named Hystaspes?”
“How did you guess?” Darius looked
