CHAPTER
Thirty-six

Haman strutted through the palace halls, head held high, barely able to hide his delight at his good fortune. The gods were definitely smiling on him! His careful planning and work to rid the earth of evil had surely found favor in the heavens.

Or perhaps the good that had come to him was a result of his own hard work. If he considered it long enough, he knew deep down that he deserved the power now afforded to him. It had taken him years to rise to this position, and it was no small feat for him to grant the king’s every ridiculous wish just to fall into his good graces. Finding new rooms for him to inhabit after the war with Greece, simply because the king could not bear Vashti’s memory, had seemed an impossible task. And a foolish need. But he had done it! He alone had pulled it off. And his rise to power had improved ever since.

And now to think Queen Esther wanted his company! The thought made him nearly skip down the hall, but he forced himself to remain dignified. He moved through the main corridors toward the palace gate and smiled with satisfaction as each man fell to his knees, head to the tiled floor.

Until his gaze came to rest on Mordecai still sitting at his table, not bothering to look up. He would still ignore him? The man should be groveling at his feet, asking him to destroy the decree! How dare he act as if this was nothing?

Haman stared for the longest moment, rage bubbling from deep within him. But he tamped it down. It would do no good to make a scene in front of the rest of the men, who were showing their respect. He would rise above and find a better way to deal with Mordecai.

He left the palace, flanked by his guards, and walked to his home, which was in the wealthiest section closest to the palace. His guards remained stationed around his home. He could take no chances with his safety or that of his family. Not as long as the Jews lived. Any one of them might attempt to assassinate him before the year passed and the decree could be fulfilled.

“Zeresh, dear wife, I have wonderful news!” Haman entered the house and kissed her cheek.

Zeresh smiled, but her eyes held skepticism. “Tell me,” she said, cupping his cheek. She would believe him, but he needed a greater audience than his wife with whom to share what had happened today. And he needed advice regarding Mordecai.

“I will. But first, gather my friends. Especially Artabanus. This news requires advice that goes beyond the two of us.”

Artabanus was one of his closest allies—one of the few he trusted. Was he becoming like Xerxes, who trusted so few? He shook the thought aside. He would wait for his friends until they could also hear this news and give their advice. He turned Zeresh about and pushed her to hurry, while he sat and allowed servants to wash his feet and bring him wine.

The sun had long since set and Haman had finished his first goblet of wine before all of the men entered his house. Zeresh stood in a corner, watching. She was useful to him, and she had given him ten sons, but sometimes her tongue tempted him to beat her. She should respect him more than she did. But he held those thoughts in check. Mordecai was a far greater evil than a little disrespect from his wife. Still, she ought to have learned from Vashti’s downfall to be a little wiser with her tongue.

“You called for us, my lord?” Artabanus spoke while the others bowed. Even his friends respected his high position.

“Yes. I have need of your advice.” He motioned for them to sit on cushions about the room, then took the seat of highest prominence. “As you know, the gods have blessed me with great wealth and many children. I have been given many honors by the king, even promoted over all of the other nobles and officials in the land.” He paused to look each man in the eye.

They all nodded, each gaze holding the proper awe.

“And that’s not all!” He paused again, drawing out the effect. “Tonight Queen Esther invited only me and the king himself to the banquet she prepared for us. And she has invited me to dine with her and the king again tomorrow!”

Artabanus clapped in a gesture of triumph, while murmurs of congratulations and smiles filled the faces of his other friends. Even Zeresh’s gaze held an expression of awe. He smiled. Good. Perhaps he could overlook her caustic tongue a while longer.

He waited until the men quieted again, then frowned, his posture downcast. “But I called you here because this is all worth nothing as long as I see Mordecai the Jew just sitting there at the palace gate.”

“He should not be allowed to get away with how he treats you,” Artabanus said.

“Why the king puts up with him all these years is hard to understand,” said another.

“Some say he is closely related to the queen. Though he is only her adoptive father.” This from Zeresh.

“That makes no difference. He does not rank as high as Haman, and relative or not, he must bow,” Artabanus insisted.

Haman listened with deep satisfaction as the discussion moved about the room, each man growing bolder and more in Haman’s favor as the wine flowed and the night waned.

At last Zeresh spoke again. “Set up a sharpened pole that stands seventy-five feet tall, and in the morning ask the king to impale Mordecai on it. When this is done, you can go on your merry way to the banquet with the king.”

All of his friends turned to Zeresh, then faced Haman. Artabanus voiced their agreement. “Zeresh speaks wisely, my lord. An ingenious plan!”

Haman smiled. What a perfect solution! He would not need to wait a year to be rid of his nemesis. The queen would not even know until it was too late, and by then he could surely appease her somehow. Or convince the king to do so.

“Do it,” he said, leaning back in his chair. He faced his attendant. “Have workmen called this very night and build the pole. I want it done before dawn.”

Xerxes flipped over in his bed, pounded the pillow beneath his head, and switched sides again. This constant tossing was not helping, and the more he moved, the more the covers tangled around him and his body grew heated.

What could Esther possibly want that she would hold two banquets to tell him? Why not just come out and say it? And why Haman? Granted, he had promoted Haman to a high position, but he had to admit he would have enjoyed a banquet alone with his queen. It had been too long, and he needed her company once more. But he couldn’t come out and say so in front of Haman.

Blast! He flipped over again, certain that sleep would never come by trying. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.

An attendant appeared at his side. “How can I help you, my lord?”

The man had remained awake as well, as Xerxes required several attendants to stay awake as he slept. Guards did the same outside of his doors.

“It is obvious that I will not sleep this night unless I get drunk or call a woman to my bed, neither of which appeals to me tonight.”

“Perhaps some reading, my lord?” the attendant suggested.

Xerxes nodded. “Yes. Perfect. Bring me the book of the history of my reign and have someone read it to me.” Not all of his attendants could read, so one must be found who did.

“Yes, my lord. Right away, my lord.” The man hurried off to do his bidding while Xerxes rose and paced the room. Energy could be released by movement. Perhaps he could wear himself out with walking.

But the image of Esther, so unwilling to make her request, baffled him. Something troubled her. She would not have risked her life to approach him for a trifle. Whatever the issue, it surely held great significance. He would almost think she toyed with him, but she would not toy with her life just to tease him back to her bed.

What do you want, my love? He would give it to her. He cared not what it cost him, he would give it to her. She had already won his heart and his decision by stepping into his inner court. Nothing she asked of him would be too great.

But his decision to grant her desire did not ease his sleeplessness, because the not knowing was keeping his mind churning.

A scribe appeared with his attendants sooner than he expected, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Good. He sank onto a couch as the man carried several clay tablets into the room and spread them onto a wide table.

“‘In the year that Esther became queen, Mordecai son of Jair, who works at the king’s gate, uncovered a plot to assassinate King Xerxes,’” the man read. “‘Bigthan and Teresh, two of the eunuchs who guarded the door to the king’s private chambers, devised the plot. Mordecai brought the news to Queen Esther, who is his daughter, and she carried the news to the king. Bigthan and Teresh were executed once the plot was confirmed.’”

Xerxes sat straighter. This reading was doing nothing to aid his ability to sleep. He remembered this incident. Years had passed, but he had become more aware of his own safety since. And he had always considered Mordecai of value because of his help, of more value than a mere father-in-law.

He stroked his chin, forcing his mind to recall the details. Esther had worried about him, fearful that Bigthan and Teresh would act before she could bring Mordecai to him to explain what he had heard. He could hardly believe such faithful eunuchs would want to kill him, so he’d instructed Haman to search for the truth. Haman had confirmed Mordecai’s words.

“Continue,” he said, wanting the scribe to finish the story. But the words turned to something unrelated to the plot against his life. “Wait.” He held up a hand. “What reward or recognition did we ever give Mordecai for this?”

His two attendants spoke before the scribe could open his mouth. “Nothing has been done for him,” they said.

He looked at them, noting an intensity in their eyes he had not seen before. “You recall this incident well.”

They nodded. “Yes, my lord,” one said. “Mordecai was not rewarded for his part in uncovering this plot. Somehow the incident was recorded and forgotten.”

Xerxes abruptly stood. He moved to his dressing rooms, his attendants following. “I will dress for court now.” Never mind that the sun had yet to rise or that sleep had utterly eluded him. He must do something about this lack. How could he go another day without honoring the man who had saved his life? How foolish he had been to forget all about it until now.

Was this what Esther wanted to ask of him? If it was, he would do something before she could even speak. He would show her how much he valued her by honoring her father. But how?

His attendants fitted his royal robe over his arms and tied the belt as his mind whirled. Jeweled sandals were tied to his feet, more jewels were attached to his arms and neck, and the golden crown was placed atop his head.

Guards surrounded him as he moved through the halls to his inner court and ascended his throne. He couldn’t promote Mordecai to the highest position without dishonoring Haman. He could make Mordecai one of his officials, but then he would be under Haman, and that didn’t seem to be an improvement to his current state.

He looked at one of his attendants, frustrated with his train of thought, and saw a shadow pass the latticed window of the adjoining court. “Who is that in the outer court?” Perhaps one of his advisors was up early and could advise him.

“Haman,” the man said.

“Bring him in,” Xerxes ordered.

Haman. Good. Just the man who could tell him what to do.