Holiday Magick (10 page)

Of course he could. He was over a thousand years old already, possessed of inhuman powers. My little glamour could not possibly stand up to his scrutiny.

“We don't often see such hair color here in Persia, my queen.” He grunted as he stuffed an enormous hunk of roasted meat into his mouth, grease and juice dribbling down his chin. “Where did you say you were from, again?”

I stuttered, then pulled myself together. “The north.”

“Rome?” he asked around a mouthful of animal flesh.

“Gaul.” Close enough to the truth.

Haman nodded but did not tear his gaze from the food on our bedroom table. He wiped his hands absently on the stuffed silk cushions behind him, and I made a mental note to have them burned before day's end.

“I've been to Gaul.” Grunt, splatter, belch. “Stupid men, nasty women.”

“Watch your tongue,” Ahasuerus warned. “Those are my wife's people you speak of.”

Haman gestured absently toward me with one hand while holding a bone in his other hand. As he sucked out the marrow, he muttered, “There are always exceptions, of course.”

“Haman, why don't you tell your new queen about your wedding gift?”

With a grimace, Haman said, “I'm going to finally rid our king of the pesky Jewish problem once and for all. Those people live by their own laws, not the king's. We cannot have this sort of open rebellion in Persia. They will all die the death of traitors, by hanging, three days hence. Oh!” He rubbed his chest. “But I'm afraid I can say no more right now. If you'll excuse me, Your Highness, I must return to my own room and send for the medic. This rich Gaulish food does not agree with me.”

I knew Mordechai had not poisoned the food. She would not risk Ahasuerus, or me, eating it. Neither Ahasuerus nor I felt the burning indigestion Haman seemed to suffer from, but then, we had not gorged ourselves as thoroughly as he did. No, he had brought this pain upon himself.

That night, as we lay side by side in our silk bed stuffed with goose down, I asked Ahasuerus to tell me more about Haman's “gift.”

Ahasuerus shrugged one shoulder and stroked a finger up and down my bare arm. “What care I for the fate of the Jews? What are they to me?”

“Loyal subjects.”

He grunted. “Perhaps. But Haman is right. For such loyalty, why do they obey another's laws instead of their king's?”

“They obey God's law. Is the king higher than God?”

He kissed the top of my head. “Does their god pave the roads or protect them from invaders as their king does?”

“That sounds like Haman talking, not my king.”

“But he is right.”

“Did the Jews bother you so before Haman came to court as your advisor?”

“I had not given the matter any thought.”

“Why three days from now?”

“Haman chose the date by lottery. There is no significance.”

I propped myself up on an elbow and traced the thick black hair on his chest. “So my mighty king would allow Haman to turn his thoughts to genocide, and their death to a whim? Why not leave the Jews alone?”

Ahasuerus grabbed my hand and kissed my palm. “I am tired. Let's leave all talk of Jews and advisors for morning, my love.” He turned his back to me and went to sleep.

Though keeping up the glamour non-stop drained my energy, I could not drift off. Instead, I watched the breeze from the windows flutter the gossamer curtains around our bed and prayed to HaShem to inspire me with a plan. Mordechai was right. Time
was
running out.

By the time Ahasuerus woke up, I had been active for hours already. I had smirking messengers sent around the palace informing everyone that His Majesty would take no meetings, no audiences, and no visitors today. We were to be left alone, except for meals that would be brought to our bedchamber.

While I waited for Ahasuerus to pull himself out of deep slumber, my nerves got the better of me. What had possessed me to usurp the king's day like this? The thought entered my mind that if I displeased him he could very well strike me across the face, or worse. Just as I decided to recall the messengers and undo my work, he woke up.

I trembled as I told him what I'd done.

He paused when I finished.

I braced for a blow.

Instead, he embraced me and kissed my cheek. “What a wonderful idea! Let's stay here and…” He drew his finger across my collarbone and across the top of my breast. “…get to know each other better. We
did
have a rushed courtship.” He pulled me to him and I instinctively arched my back while he kissed down my chest.

I released a sigh of contentment, and then forced my mind to focus. But how could I, when his lips felt so warm and soft against my skin, his beard so coarse and masculine? I pushed his head away, gently, and giggled like a girl at the soft, unfocused look in his eyes. “I really do want to talk with you, husband.”

His shoulders slumped and he breathed out an exaggerated sigh. “Whatever my queen wants, she shall have.”

“Let's start with you.” I held his hand and settled myself against his side. “Tell me your favorite memories of childhood, and then I'll tell you mine.”

And so we talked through the morning, and when lunch was brought to us, we talked still. He opened up to me, told me stories of his mother and father, of his childhood in Persia, and of his plans and dreams for the future. I, in turn, told him of my girlhood, changing a few details here and there to match previous stories. Hibernia became Gaul, and since Ahasuerus had never been to either place, he did not know the difference.

By the time our evening meal arrived, we had laughed, we had cried, we had made love, and we had bared our souls.

Ahasuerus lay on his back with his head in my lap while I dipped a bunch of grapes into his mouth.

“Tell me, my Esther. Now that you know all there is to know about me, and I about you, what shall we do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I still have not given you a wedding gift. I am but your humble servant. Whatever you ask, I shall give to you.”

My mouth dried up. I swallowed, but it did not help. My mind cleared as my own thoughts deserted me. There was no way Ahasuerus could not hear my heart attempting to break free of my chest.

“But whatever would I, a simple girl from Gaul, ask of the mighty king of Persia, who will someday rule all the world?”

“Whatever your heart most desires, my love.”

“And you will give it to me?”

“Gladly.”

“Without question?”

“Without hesitation.” He sat up and his face was a mask of seriousness. “What is it you want? Land? Gold? Jewels? Emeralds to match your eyes? Copper jewelry to match your hair? Slaves?”

The words formed on my tongue, but my mouth would not say them.

“You need but ask, and it is yours, Esther, my love.”

“Haman…” I whispered.

Ahasuerus's brow crinkled. “Haman? You want Haman?”

I shook my head. “He's going to kill all the Jews in Persia.”

“Oh,” Ahasuerus relaxed and sat back. “This again.”

“My love…” With all the tenderness I could muster, I cupped his cheek in my hand. A single tear escaped my eye and plummeted down my face. I licked dry, cracked lips and made myself speak. “I am a Jew.”

Ahasuerus said nothing, but neither did he pull away.

I pressed on. “I do not wish not to be killed in two days, nor any of my people. Haman has plagued my people for…for…for longer than you can know. I wish for him to leave us alone, once and for all. In fact,” I dropped my glamour, and felt a weight lift from me, “This is how I really look.”

He still said nothing, but got up and walked out of our room. I did not follow. What was the point? I had said my piece, and now my fate and the fate of my entire people were in the hands of Ahasuerus. And HaShem.

I did not see Ahasuerus again for two days. I stayed in our room and did not take any food or drink. I prayed and prayed, and whenever the terror of waiting threatened to overwhelm me, I prayed harder.

On the morning of the day that was to be the end of my people, a servant came and told me she was to escort me outside. I trembled so badly I could barely walk, and a few times the servant had to prop me back up. By the time we reached the outside of the great palace I could no longer see from the fat, hot tears that plagued my eyes, and my breath came in choked sobs.

Through eyes swollen with terror and grief, I looked upon the scene. A mob of citizens and slaves, men and women and children, stood around a gallows hung with a single noose. I cried out and fell to my knees. The servant did not pick me back up. “No, please!” Instinctually I called out our people's holiest, most sacred prayer.

Someone touched my arm and helped me to my feet. The familiar voice of my husband whispered into my ear, “Behold your wedding gift.”

I sniffled and looked.

Escorted by four royal guards, Haman was led to the steps of the gallows. When he reached the platform he was given pause for last words. He looked around the crowd. As his gaze found me, he spat and shouted, “She's a witch! Her people are witches, and they must be brought to justice!”

The executioner then draped a black hood over Haman's head, muffling his rants. Ahasuerus steadied me against his servant and walked up the steps of the gallows. He opened a scroll and read, in a loud, clear, majestic voice, “Let it be known far and wide that this man, Haman, is a traitor to his king. In his plan to kill the Jews, he has plotted the death of Queen Esther, which is high treason and will be punished accordingly. And so on this day, the day chosen by Haman's own lottery, he is sentenced to a traitor's death by hanging, and all Jews are welcome to live freely in Persia.”

Haman was led into position. The noose was placed around his neck. The lever was pulled. His feet dangled and his body shook.

The crowd cheered the traitor's death.

The mighty Haman would bother us no more.

Ahasuerus and I lived the rest of our marriage in love and happiness, and every year, on the 14th day of the Jewish month of Adar, we celebrated the survival of my people. I named the holiday Purim, the Hebrew word for “lots,” to remind us all of the arbitrary day Haman chose to have us all massacred. The day that became his last here on Earth.

The Hina Matsuri (Doll Festival) is celebrated on March 3rd in Japan and is also known as Girls' Day. Contemporary celebrations center on a special feast for daughters and the setting up of a doll shrine. This can be quite elaborate and is most commonly a display of dolls dressed from the Heian period imperial court. Dolls are set out in the weeks before March 3rd, but must come down by the end of the day on March 3rd or else it is believed that the daughter will have bad luck in marriage. March 3rd is also a day of purification in the Shinto religion. In ancient times, the dolls for this day were made from fiber or paper (origami). People would breathe on them and rub them on their bodies to rid themselves of impurities, and then float the dolls down the river in small boats. These impurities may also take the form of demons or malevolent, trickster spirits. Because the dolls and boats clog up fishermen's nets, places still using the doll floats will have priests gather them later and take them to the shrine to be burned.