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Queen of the Persians

by Lee Edgar

dedicated to orphans everywhere

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

    HAMAN smiled as he left his home that next morning. Already, the sounds of hammering told him that his sons had started to build the gallows designed for Marduka. He got down from his carriage as he reached the palace and stepped towards the place where his King waited. Marduka's death warrant had already been written out and was in his hand as he strode into the courtyard. In a few minutes, the deed would be done and, by the time the day was out, Marduka would be dead. The first of a great many Jews to die.
    'Ah, Haman,' greeted Khshayarsha as the Prime Minister entered before the throne. He placed his arm around his Prime Minister's shoulders. 'Tell me. What does the law say I must do with someone who pleases me very much? Someone to whom I wish to bring great honour?'
    'Well,' said Haman thoughtfully, thinking there was surely no-one in the kingdom more worthy of honour than himself. 'It would vary according to the greatness of the deed. If this someone had served you well, it would be appropriate to give him the very highest honour.'
    'And that is, my good friend?'
    Good friend? He must be talking about me. 'If I was the King I would take this individual and clothe him with your own royal cloak of dignity and put upon his head a crown of pure gold.'
    'And then?'
    'And then I would seat him upon your own favourite stallion and have him paraded through the public square of the city of Shushan with one of your highest-ranking Princes to make announcement before him to all the people saying; "this is what happens to anyone who pleases the King. This is how he shall be treated." Then I would have his name proclaimed to the length and breadth of your great Empire.'
    'That is what the law says?'
    'It is, my Lord King,' said Haman smugly, Marduka's death warrant already in his sweaty little hand.
    'You have spoken well and the honour is appropriate in this case. Go, do exactly as you have spoken. Take the man, Marduka, who is sitting in the palace gatehouse and clothe him with my own ceremonial crown and apparel. Sit him upon my own, personal stallion and go yourself and say the things you have spoken. Make sure that all are aware I have approved of this man.'
    Haman gaped and found he could not move. Beneath his gown, his knees trembled as his hand tightly clutched the parchment in his hand.
    'Did you have a matter to discuss with me first?' asked the King, frowning at the unread document.
    Haman quickly pushed the damning scroll into his sleeve. 'It will wait. I will first carry out the command of my King.' He left hurriedly and Khshayarsha stared after him.
    'Harbona,' said the King thoughtfully. 'Take a squad of the Immortals. I fear Haman looks a little worried about the assignment I have just given him. Ensure he remains unmolested at all times and is able to carry out fully all that I have commanded.'
    'I shall see to the matter personally,' bowed the attendant who had clearly seen the implication of the matter.

    MORDECAI looked up as Haman entered the gatehouse. Slowly, he lay down his scroll and got to his feet. He had not missed the significance of the gallows which were almost completed near the public square and guessed they were for him. He would like to have been given the opportunity to plead his case before the King but even that had obviously been denied him. He was sad his little Hadasseh was not there to see him die, probably not even being aware of the matter.
    'I have come for you,' said the Prime Minister.
    Mordecai nodded and, for the first time, noticed the palace guards Haman had brought with him. 'I am ready.'
    Haman stepped aside as the gatekeeper came out into the bright sunshine and saw the King's personal attendant. Harbona nodded to Haman who took the royal cloak of deep purple and laid it around Mordecai's shoulders. Mordecai did not move as he stood, amazed, as the royal headdress was placed upon his head. As if in a dream, he was led to the great white stallion and helped up onto its back.
    'This is what happens to anyone who pleases the King,' said Haman quietly. 'This is how he shall be treated.'
    'Louder,' prompted Harbona who didn't particularly like the Prime Minister and was loving every moment of the drama.
    Haman cleared his throat. 'This is what happens to anyone who pleases the King. This is how he shall be treated.'
    With guard in tow, he led the horse through the gateway and into the public square. A crowd soon gathered.
    'This is what happens to anyone who pleases the King,' Haman said again, realising he had lost his battle for the time being and had better keep the King happy or else he might find himself hung upon his own gallows. 'This is how he shall be treated.'
    Harbona smiled as he followed the procession around and people cheered and waved at the honour which had been granted to someone so highly respected in the community.
    'This is what happens to anyone who pleases the King. This is how he shall be treated,' Haman called again and again as they passed the palace.

    ZERESH greeted her husband as he entered, looking thoroughly miserable. 'Is it done?'
    'Stupid woman. Have you not heard?' Haman asked angrily. 'It seems the whole of the rest of Elam has.'
    His wife stood up. 'Heard what?'
    He told her. She sat down slowly, her eyes glazed. 'We are finished.'
    'There is still the decree. The law cannot be changed. If we can but last out the next few months, we shall still see all the Jews die.'
    'Unless Marduka deals with us first.'
    'He cannot. I am still Prime Minister and have jurisdiction over him. I may have failed this attempt but he will still die on the date chosen by the lot of the gods. Alternatively, we may have to find a less public way of getting rid of him.'
    'I am sure you will think of something,' said Zeresh with a smile.
    A servant entered. 'The King's attendant is here, my Lord.'
    'The banquet,' said Haman suddenly. 'By Molech, I had forgotten.'
    'Go to the banquet, my husband,' said Zeresh. 'Relax and forget your troubles. You can push all thoughts from your mind as you dine with the Queen.'
    'Yes,' he said thoughtfully. 'The Queen of the Persians.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

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