Jewel of Persia

“She looks unwell again today.”


And when had Masistes seen her? Xerxes’ fingers tightened on the reins. “She is with child.”

“Again?” Masistes shook his head. “You test the god, brother. So many miscarriages cannot be good for a woman’s body. If you want to preserve her life, you may have to

be content with others to warm your bed.”

A knot of fear cinched tight in his stomach. Did his brother think he had not considered that? His resolve hardened after each bout of pain and tears . . . but when she was

in his arms, he forgot everything but the love surging through him. No one could ignite his passion like Kasia. When he could not touch her, it felt as though the sun had

been snuffed out.

“She assures me that she is already farther along than she has made it before.”

His brother looked unconvinced. “I just took Parsisa and Artaynte to her wagon. They have both spoken to me of their concern for her.”

That at least explained how Masistes knew of her appearance today. “They cannot be more concerned than I. Ask them to pray.”

“They have been, I am sure.”

Together they turned toward the first wagon nestled within the safety of the Persian ranks. His, though everyone had come to think of it as hers. Which suited him nicely.

Ferocious barking issued from within. Xerxes grinned when both friend and brother held back with matching scowls.

Masistes shook his head. “You should have kept her from making a pet of that beast, my lord. It was a guard dog.”

“And still is. Now he guards Kasia instead of the palace. Down, Zad.”

A grey nose poked out of the wagon, and the dog acknowledged him with a happy loll of his tongue. Xerxes urged his horse alongside so he could scratch Zad behind the ears

and look into the opening. Kasia offered a tight smile, but her face lacked color and her hand pressed against her stomach.

The knot rose to his throat, but he forced it back down. He refused to fear the child growing inside her would steal her from him before it drew its first breath. “Good

news, my love. It seems there is a man headed our way to offer us his hospitality.”

A measure of relief settled onto her countenance. “Wonderful. We are almost to Celaenae?”

“It will be visible when you crest the hill.” He turned to address the driver. “Pull out of rank and come ahead with us. We will all meet this Pythius together.”

“Yes, master.”

After another smile aimed at Kasia, he urged his horse ahead of the wagon so that they might cut a swath through the surrounding army. A moment later he stood at the top of

the hill yet again, where his personal entourage joined him. They would make an impressive picture as they moved down the hill—his commanders flanked him, his advisors and

slaves formed rows behind, the wagon followed. Then the vast sea of soldiers, armed and ready to teach Greece what happened to those who opposed Persia.

When Xerxes lifted his hand, they started forward at a sedate, regal pace. The breeze picked up, and his standard snapped taut, then fluttered.

One man parted from the rest as they drew near. He looked the same age Xerxes’ father would have been, with a mane of glistening silver hair and the broad shoulders of a

warrior.

“This is Pythius?” He put his question to one of the advisers behind him.

“Yes, master. He is the one who sent your father Darius the gold plane-tree and vine.”

He nodded and moved a step ahead of his companions. Pythius reined his horse to a halt and jumped down. By the time Xerxes reached him, he knelt with head bowed.

Xerxes’ horse pranced. “Pythius of Lydia?”

“Your humble servant, my king.”

His humble servant had a voice as deep and rich as the gold collar draping his neck. A man of means, indeed. “Rise. I hear you were a friend of my father’s.”

Pythius stood and looked up at him. “It was my great honor to know him, and it is with gratitude to the gods that I now welcome you. If it pleases you, my lord, I have a

feast ready for you and your companions, and provisions for the whole of your army as they arrive.”

“I accept with delight. Would you ride beside me into the city?”

“My servants shall lead the way.” Pythius swung onto his horse and turned it around. “I have been awaiting your army with eagerness, as have my brothers and sons. I hope

you have room in your numbers for those we would add to it.”

The chuckle eased some of the tension in his chest. “There is always room for more, my friend.”

A wide smile creased Pythius’s face. “I have heard that some of you have wives and children with you. My wife wishes me to assure you that she has made preparations for

them as well, both at Celaenae and Sardis.”