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Chapter 9
I was taken into the king’s palace under the supervision of
Hegai, the guardian of the women, the lord of the harem. His
understanding of the king’s desire was such that he knew upon sight
if a girl would bring pleasure to the royal bedchamber. All who
arrived without obvious disease were washed and groomed and
displayed before him. He inspected them and determined their fate.
Some had known men though they were not married. Some were
young but did not display the beauty of youth. Some bore a blemish
that would dampen the king’s desire. Some spoke in sour tones.
And some were so quarrelsome that even the harem wine would
not make them agreeable. Girls such as these were not admitted into
the harem, but sent to the army barracks to serve the rough pleasure
of the king’s soldiers. There they soon grew old and broken.
While I recovered from the effects of the harem wine, the others
had moved on to the hairdressers. Puah washed my hair herself,
checking my scalp for nits. She spent an hour combing my tresses
with slow and cautious strokes, spreading them in a fan across my
back until every strand lay in its place, smooth and shining down to
my waist. The old servant had no cosmetics at her disposal, no kohl
to rim my eyes or perfume to sweeten my scent. But she massaged
my feet with almond oil and rubbed pomegranate juice over my
cheeks and lips.
A young eunuch appeared in the doorway of the little room and
nodded to Puah, who helped me rise. I was yet unsteady on my
feet, and clung to her arm as she guided me through the maze of
corridors to a large apartment at the far end of the harem.
I entered a receiving room, my eyes tearing at the bright light that
shone from the numerous bronze ceiling lamps. I lowered my gaze
to the floor, covered with carpets of scarlet and blue wool woven
into an intricate pattern of rosettes within squares. The fabric on
the wall hangings shimmered like stars reflecting on the river at
night, but the images they depicted—naked women with heavy
breasts and full thighs—made me flush with embarrassment.
Puah urged me forward, guiding my steps toward an enormous
man who sat on an ornate armchair of ebony inlaid with lapis
lazuli and silver. Male attendants stood on either side of him, some
holding jeweled daggers. Two boys hovered over him from a perch
on a box behind the throne, one with a large fan of woven reeds and
the other with a leather fly whisk.
He was dressed in royal robes woven from violet silk and silver
threads. Every finger on his hands sparkled with a ring of gold or
silver. His posture, even sitting, indicated someone who held himself
to be of great importance. The expression of his face—a mixture of
scorn, disgust, and revulsion—made his great bulk menacing.
I stood before this man, not knowing who he was or why I had
been summoned to him. My reason still muddled by the wine, I
formed an idea in myself that he must be King Xerxes. And so I fell
to my knees and bowed my head.
“Come forward,” the enormous man ordered. But the pitch of his
voice, higher than my own, revealed that he did not have a man’s full
vigor. I gazed up at his face: his round, smooth cheek betrayed him as
a eunuch despite the tuft of false beard attached to one of his chins.
This creature—neither man nor woman—could not be King
Xerxes. Yet I understood from his manner and position that he
wielded great power in the harem.
Puah helped me to my feet. We walked to the edge of the carpet,
stopping just short of the platform. I saw by the eunuch’s pursed lips
and fearsome stare that I did not please him. I glanced to Puah at
my side, hoping for some hint how I might win the eunuch’s favor.
But her eyes remained fixed on her feet.
“So our wine was not to your liking!” The eunuch’s shrill voice
startled me.
“I could not support its strength, my lord,” I whispered.
“You are from Susa?” So great was the pressure of his enormous
weight upon his throat that his words came out as great gasps of
sound.
“Yes, my lord.” I held back tears for my cousin’s household and
all that I had lost that day.
“What are your parents?”
“I am an orphan, my lord.”
“A pretty orphan,” he sighed, appraising me with a stare that
made me feel like a goat for sale in the marketplace. He sighed again
and leaned toward one of the eunuchs by his side. “Such fair skin
and shapely form would tantalize the king’s desire. Bright eyes the
color of ripened wheat, and the shape of luscious almonds. And
look at the abundant hair. She would have served him well.”
The regret in his voice held my heart like the hangman’s noose.
I did not want to be an object of the king’s pleasure, but I feared a
worse fate if I did not cooperate. “I shall be your obedient servant,”
I heard myself promise.
The eunuch shifted his great bulk back toward me, his eyebrows
lifting in surprise. His sharp eyes rose from the flesh of his face like
a crescent moon peeking over a mountain.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“I shall be your obedient servant,” I repeated, afraid that I had
displeased him.
“What are you called?” he demanded.
“Esther, my lord,” I replied. The name scratched my throat and
tore at my tongue as it escaped, like a difficult birth. I no longer
heard the word as Mordechai had said it, with love and concern for
my safety. I did not hear it as I had introduced myself to the others,
with a show of courage. It was the name of someone I did not know.
The eunuch’s thick lips went slack and his mouth fell open as if
gasping for air. His false beard quivered. He tightened his grip on
the arms of his throne.
He stared at me for some time. I forced myself to return his gaze
as if beholding an object of delight.
“Let us inspect her,” the eunuch commanded, breaking his silence
after a minute or two. One of his attendants signaled for Puah to
remove my robe. The gauzy fabric fell away from my flesh.
I stood alone in the shame of my nakedness. I felt Hegai’s eyes
upon me but I could not meet his gaze. After some moments of
silence, he raised a finger to a young eunuch who stood beside
him. Heaving his great bulk out of the chair, he leaned on the
youth like a walking stick and approached me. Each step required
great effort. He came so close to me that I could feel the heat of his
labored breath on my skin. He circled me, examining every inch of
my bare flesh. I held myself very still. I imagined that I was a statue
of cool white marble.
After Hegai looked at my skin, he examined behind my ears and
in my mouth. He pressed his nose into the hollow between my arm
and shoulder. His massive hands cupped my breasts, as if to feel
their weight. Then he signaled that I should be laid on my back.
With the help of an attendant, he lowered himself to his knees.
Puah draped my robe across my shoulders and chest while a
eunuch elevated my hips with a cushion. My legs were spread apart.
I was a statue; I felt neither fear nor pain. I closed my eyes and saw
my mother.
We were walking on the marble pavement below the hanging gardens
of the great ziggurat. Everything was in bloom. She closed her arms
around me, holding me close to the child she was soon due to deliver. She
wept, thanking the One God for my life and my health. The midmorning
sun warmed us, and we sat down to share a piece of honey cake. We
watched the boats on the River Euphrates float past like clouds. I turned
back to my mother and saw a spasm of pain pass over her sweet face. And
I knew that her time had come.
“No man has known her,” the eunuch Hegai declared, rising to
his feet. Puah helped me with my robe, and I sat up. The keeper of
the women washed his hands in a basin.
“An apartment shall be furnished for her by the evening,”
he pronounced. “Attendants shall be provided her as is her due.
Whatever her request and her desire, it shall be granted to her.”
I bowed to the keeper of the women, trying to find the words
to thank him. But my tongue was still thick with the wine and
my body shivered in shame for all that his hands had done to me.
And so I said nothing as he pronounced me suitable for the king’s
pleasure and instructed Puah to attend me until my apartment in the
harem was ready.
We returned to the room where Puah had cared for me. She
helped me settle on to some large cotton floor cushions and brought
me more goat’s milk.
“Thank you for your kindness,” I said as I took the familiar
bowl. I tried to tell myself that I had only imagined the interlude
in the eunuch’s apartment, but I still felt his hands probing me. I
longed to bathe, to rub raw my tainted flesh, to be pure again.
Puah peered down at me, her large eyes blinking as if she were
unsure of what she saw.
“Please sit with me,” I begged.
She lowered herself onto a cushion by my side and raised her
hand to smooth my hair. I welcomed her comforting touch.
“You have been spared great suffering,” she observed, tucking
some hair behind my ear.
“I have not been spared,” I retorted, the words bringing a bitter
taste into my mouth.
“You would have gone to the soldiers,” Puah revealed, an edge
of reproach in her voice. “Women who cannot tolerate the wine
always go to the soldiers.”
I put the milk aside. My hands shook with fear for what I had
escaped.
“Your beauty found favor in the eunuch’s eyes,” Puah
continued, “but it was something else too.” Her brow furrowed
with puzzlement. “Something you said.”
“Perhaps he will change his mind,” I worried.
“He has bestowed upon you an apartment while you are yet a
virgin,” Puah replied. “Never has such an honor been given. If you
are obedient to him and work hard to please the king, he will not
change his mind.”
I kissed Puah’s hand with gratitude. “I cannot remember all that
happened after I drank the wine, but I am glad fate brought you to
take care of me.”
“It was my God, the God of the Jews, who called me to you,”
she insisted. “When you became ill, Shaashgaz sent a messenger in
search of a maid. I, the lowest of the chamber servants, put myself
forward for the task. No one expected you to stay in the harem, and
so I was granted permission.”
I kissed her hand again. “You cared for me as if I were your own
child.”
Puah laughed with pleasure. “When I saw you in your illness,
I knew you were the child I never had,” she explained. “I thanked
the One God for giving me even a few hours to care for you. I
prayed for His mercy and begged Him with all my heart to keep
you from the soldiers.”
“He heard your prayers,” I whispered, my eyes filling with tears.
“He heard me,” she agreed, drawing me close. “And now we are
bound together for all time.”
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