CHAPTER
Twenty-six

Amestris woke early several weeks later, irritable and determined. Bigthan and Teresh were dead. Vashti banished. Esther queen. And all of it was her mother-in-law’s fault. If Atossa had not promised Amestris that Xerxes would raise her to the highest level in his harem to be queen over all of his women, even Vashti, she would never have married the man.

She stomped through her suite and banged on the door of her sleeping maids’ room. “Get up, you lazy slaves.” She imagined Atossa telling her to keep her voice down—she would wake the household. But she didn’t care.

Two bleary-eyed young maidens appeared, blinking at her in the barest light of dawn.

“Get dressed,” Amestris barked. “And ready my sons. We are going to see their grandmother.” She would have left the boys behind, but she fully intended to remind Atossa that she deserved more than she had ever been given. Her sons deserved better. “Help me dress,” she added as she moved to her dressing room.

What she would say to her mother-in-law remained to be seen, but she simply must do something. Sitting here in these rooms, watching the days drift by, hearing the rumors, knowing her husband favored nearly every person over her, made her want to scream at the heavens. But screaming would only bring her the wrong kind of attention. Screaming was meant for dying men like Bigthan and Teresh.

She shuddered at the memory and searched her many gowns for one that appealed to her. One of her maids helped her to put it on, and another had begun to adorn her hair when a knock sounded at her outer door.

She looked at her eunuch standing guard nearby. “Who would be up so early?” And why come to her here?

Another eunuch answered the knock, and Amestris met one of Atossa’s servants just inside the door. She did not invite the man inside, though by the look on his face, she wondered if sitting would be the wiser choice.

“What news do you bring? Has Atossa sent you? Has something happened to the king?” How fortuitous that would be! But she set her mouth in a grim line lest she reveal her thoughts and searched the man’s troubled face.

“I’m afraid the queen mother has taken ill. She is feverish and calling for you,” the man said.

Amestris felt as though someone had struck her. Atossa ill? “I will come at once.” She looked at her maids. “Keep the boys here.” She dare not risk exposing them to illness.

She followed the servant, her guards at her sides, her mind churning. Obviously her complaints would have to wait until Atossa recovered. But how had she grown ill so quickly? Hadn’t she seemed the picture of health at last evening’s meal? Had someone poisoned her food? A shiver worked through Amestris. One could never be too careful.

But there would be no reason for someone to kill the king’s mother. She must have encountered an illness some other way.

The hall took several turns before Amestris stood at the great doors leading to the queen mother’s chambers. She entered without knocking as the guard stood outside.

“Take me to her.” Amestris kept her voice low at the somber mood in the room.

A servant stopped her at the threshold. “She is gravely ill, my queen. Perhaps it is wise not to get too close to her.”

Amestris nodded, then slowly moved past the servant. She approached the end of the bed. Atossa’s breathing was shallow, her face drenched in sweat.

“Someone put a cool cloth on her forehead.” Amestris glared at one of the servants, who hurried to do her bidding. Did these people know nothing about caring for the sick?

She waited a moment for them to make Atossa more comfortable, then forced herself to take a good look at her mother-in-law. Her pallor held a grayish cast, and her breathing did not come with ease.

“Atossa?” Amestris spoke softly, but the woman’s eyes were closed, and she made no attempt to respond. “Atossa?” She spoke louder this time. Still no response. She looked to the nearest servant. “I was told she asked for me.”

The woman nodded. “She did, my queen. She speaks on and off, but it seems as though she is dreaming when she does so. She spoke your name. We thought that meant she wanted to see you.”

“She can hardly see me if she doesn’t open her eyes.” Amestris’s patience felt stretched thin, and her skin grew clammy in the heated room. No windows were open and the lights were dim. The place carried the scent of coming death.

Impossible! Atossa could not have grown ill so quickly. Xerxes would surely punish his mother’s entire staff if she died suddenly.

Amestris glanced again at Atossa’s prone body. You can’t die. We have too much to do yet.

But she could not say the words, or anything else that she would not want servants to overhear. She needed fresh air and to leave this oppressive place.

“Has anyone told the king?” Xerxes should be here, not her. Atossa must have spoken her name in a fit of delirium. It was her son she needed.

“Messengers are on their way to him now. We did not wish to wake him too soon,” one eunuch said.

Incompetent servants, all of them! “He would want to be awakened if his mother is dying, you fools.” Amestris strode from the bedchamber with one last glance at Atossa. She would walk toward Xerxes’ rooms. Let him think that she cared that he be informed about his mother’s health—that Atossa’s servants did little to help her. Perhaps she would gain some favor in his eyes during this dreadful hour of need.

Xerxes heard the servant’s words but struggled to process their meaning. “My mother is ill?”

“Yes, my lord. She grew suddenly ill in the night. She is feverish and says things in her sleep, but she will not awaken. We thought you should know.”

Esther touched his arm, reminding him of her presence. “I’m sorry to hear this, my lord. Shall I call for your manservant to dress you to visit her right away?”

He nodded simply because he suspected she could tell that he felt wooden and suddenly lost as to what to do.

Esther slid from the bed and wrapped her robe about her, then directed his servants to dress him and give him nourishment and a quick cup of cold goat’s milk. Then she kissed his cheek, and he hurried to his mother’s rooms.

How could this have happened? His mother was young and should live many more years. His heart picked up its pace as he moved with the sudden urge to see her. He stopped short as he met Amestris in the hall close to his mother’s rooms.

“My lord.” She bowed low. “I see you have heard. I thought to come to you myself, as the servants seemed not to know which way to turn.”

He stared at her. How was it that she knew about his mother before he did? But he shoved that thought aside. If only he had thought to bring Esther with him. He would brush right past this woman, who grew more dislikable with each passing day, and avoid her oily charm.

“There is no need, Amestris. My mother’s servants have already told me what I need to know. You may leave us now.” He did move past her then, triumph in his heart at the shocked look on her face. But as he entered his mother’s rooms, saw the dark interior, smelled the odor of impending death—or had she already passed—he felt lost again, like a young boy abandoned.

He hurried to her chambers, where a servant told him what he already knew. He stepped closer and knelt at her side. “Maman?” He spoke close to her ear, but she only stirred. She did not wake. “Maman, come back to me.”

She did not seem to hear him, and her breathing grew labored.

He took her hand. Though she appeared feverish, her fingers were cold to his touch. He wrapped both hands around her frail one and laid his head on the bed. How long he stayed with her, he could not tell, for the room was too dark to see the sun moving across the sky. But his knees began to cramp, and as he shifted to stand, the sound of death caught in her throat. She gave a hoarse gurgle, until at last she breathed no more.

Xerxes stood over her, tears filling his eyes. There was so much he would have said. So much more he wanted to hear her say.

He turned abruptly. He could not bear this grief. Not here. Not now. Oh Maman! He glanced back at her still form. She had been guiding and controlling him most of his life. But she had loved him, and he knew at some deep level that no one else in his kingdom cared for him like she had.