Jewel of Persia

Her eyes opened. Then slid closed again.

He swallowed against the pain. Leah’s cries subsided for a moment, then her face screwed up once more. She needed her mother. They all needed her mother.

Desma took her back. “I will deliver her to the nurse to be fed. Come, children, give your father a moment with your ima.”

He took her hand again as the room emptied. “Kasia, you must not leave me. If you do not open your eyes and speak to me, there is no telling what I might do. You do not

want to unleash me on the unsuspecting world, do you?”

He could hold the tears back no longer. He rested his head against her hand, clasped between his.

Her sleeve slid up her arm, revealing the heavy torc she still wore. Proof of her love. Their love. “Please, lovely Kasia. Do not give up.” If she did, he did not know how

he would keep from doing the same.

Perhaps he would refuse to move until she did. It was only a matter of time before someone demanded something of him, but he had no idea what he could give. He felt

suspended along with Kasia. Useless.

The world would just have to understand.

*

Haman stared at the servant. “What happened?”

“Apoplexy, as best as they can guess. She is unresponsive. Immobile.”

Unbelievable. He had not even had to raise a hand against her. Did he need any more proof that the god was for him? Ahura Mazda had struck down the witch himself, and the

king was no doubt too grief-stricken to care for anything else.

Perfect. Utterly perfect. “Quickly, bring the Pur.”

His man dashed off, returned a minute later with the lots. As Haman watched, his servant let loose the two small discs. The first slid to a halt over the symbol for the

twelfth month. The second over the marker for the thirteenth day.

Nearly a year away—he must need that much time to prepare. To rouse the anger of the world against the Jews.

So be it. He strode from his home, toward the palace, and deliberately chose the gate where the witch’s friend would be seated.

His servants went ahead of him, insisting all nearby bow in deference to the favored of the king. Satisfaction swelled in his chest. Until, of course, they reached the Jew.

“Why do you transgress the king’s demand?” his head eunuch demanded.

The swine looked past them, to Haman. Recognition of an enemy flickered in his eyes. “I will bow the knee to no man, especially a man such as him. I worship only the one

God, Jehovah.”

Hatred boiled up as Haman strode past. Yes, he worshiped only Jehovah, just like the witch. Now he and all his people would die because of it.

He headed toward the quarters of the royal family and found the king in the Jewess’s chambers. Hunched beside the bed, looking as lifeless as the figure on it. “Master?”

Xerxes lifted his head. “Haman. I am glad you have come. She is . . .”

“I received the message. Master, you are over-wrought. Yet there is business to be done. Even now I have learned of a people dispersed throughout your kingdom that refuse

to keep the king’s laws—and the last thing you need right now is an uprising. If it pleases you, let a decree be written to destroy them. I will pay ten thousand talents

of silver into the hands of those who do the work, and have the plunder from their homes and businesses brought into your treasury.”

The king did not even look at him. “Do whatever you deem necessary, Haman. Here.” He covered one hand with the other, tugged.

Haman nearly shook when he saw the signet ring.

“Act in my stead, my brother. Do as I would do.”

Better, he would do as the king should. He took the ring, slid it onto his own finger. Was it his imagination, or did power pulse from his hand? “You will not want to be

disturbed, master. Let us also make a decree that none are to enter your presence without being called, or they shall be put to death unless you hold your scepter out to

them.”

“A wise thought.” The king rubbed his face. “I shall have to return to court for a few hours each day. To keep up appearances.”

“Of course. But I will take care of everything in your time of need, master.”

“Thank you.” His voice broke, and Xerxes rested his head on his hand. “I do not know what I would do without you.”

“You need never find out. I arranged for some wine for you, master—you must keep up your strength. Go, refresh yourself for a moment.”

Xerxes sighed, but he stood and shuffled from the room. The Jewess’s eunuch immediately entered, but Haman ignored him. He sat in the king’s seat and leaned close, so

close his breath would have tickled her ear had she any ability to sense it. “You are lucky the god struck you before I could, witch—I would have cast the blame on your

precious people. But it is no matter. No matter at all. Die now, as you should have done in Sardis, or die later. It makes no difference to me.”