Jewel of Persia. Roseanna M. White

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      They skirted the courtyard and moved down a hallway lined with doors. Desma stopped before a closed one at the end, and another of the maidservants—Leda, was it?—tugged the iron ring to open it. The taller of the eunuchs, Theron, entered first and took account of the chamber before nodding. The group broke their ranks so that she might enter.

      It was a dim room, the only windows low and small. But the scent of flowers wafted in from them, and the appointments were blessedly simple.

      Desma shook her head. “It is too close, surely. There is another—”

      “No, it is perfect.” She noted two other chambers connected to this one, probably intended for the servants or perhaps a child or two. Put together, it was as large as her father’s house. “Perfect.”

      Though her surprise was colored with disbelief, Desma relented with a tilt of her head. “As you wish, mistress. We will have your belongings brought over.”

      Three of the maids scurried away, and the eunuchs took up position in the corners of the room. Kasia looked around, wondering how a wife was to pass her days when she had no household, no mending or cooking, and no babes.

      “Well, this is most unusual.”

      At the vaguely familiar voice of Queen Atossa, Kasia spun back to the doorway. Xerxes’ mother stood in all her regal splendor with a lifted brow and a crooked smile. “Here you are in the lowliest chamber of the house of wives, yet my son assures me you are all he hoped and more.”

      When the queen mother took a step into the small room, her presence seemed to fill it so much Kasia felt she should kneel in deference. She allowed herself only to dip her head. “He gave me leave to choose my own rooms.”

      “And you chose this?”

      “As you see.”

      Atossa shook her head, but her face reflected approval. “You are an odd girl, Kasia. And I have not seen the king smile so brightly since he was a boy. Come, share the meal with me and some of the other women I think you will like. We will introduce you to life here—and teach you how to avoid Amestris, though you will have to appear at her feast this week.”

      More relieved than excited, Kasia followed her new matriarch out the door.

      Six

      Xerxes settled onto his throne and scanned the courtroom. Even at such an early hour, it was filled with men chattering, arguing, laughing. Some in military regalia, others in the finery of private citizens. Still more in the rough garb of commoners come to seek help or counsel.

      All signs of a busy, productive empire. And yet on this morning, the empire made his smile dim. This morning, he would prefer to forget he was king for a few more hours.

      “My lord.” His uncle appeared at his side, a telltale line in his forehead. Artabanus could out-worry any man in the kingdom—if Xerxes listened to his every concern, nothing would ever get done. The war was a perfect example—he had very nearly changed his mind about the campaign based on Artabanus’s advice. Had it not been for that startling vision they shared two years ago . . .

      Even his uncle could not maintain his skepticism in the face of the god.

      Xerxes greeted him with a smile. “What is it today, uncle?”

      “Another stretch of canal has collapsed at Athos.”

      Xerxes stifled a groan. This was not how he wanted to spend his day. He would rather dwell on thoughts of his sweet Kasia and her excitement at another night in his arms. “Naturally. A plan we adopted to avoid problems, and it causes more. I wonder if sailing around the mountain could prove any more a travail than bypassing it. Repairs?”

      “They are reinforcing the walls, I believe, but the collapse killed a great many workers.”

      Xerxes rested a knuckle against his lips and sighed. “Something must be done about these continual collapses. Has every group encountered it?”

      “All but the Phoenicians.”

      “An exception worthy of note.” Xerxes straightened and lifted a brow. “What are they doing differently than everyone else?”

      Artabanus’s mouth flopped open for a moment. “Well . . . I recall hearing something about how ridiculously wide their excavations were at the start—twice as wide as the rest of the canal. There was some grumbling about it.”

      Sometimes it felt as though the rest of the world were idiots. “Artabanus, there is a reason we put the Phoenicians and the Egyptians in charge of the bridge over the Hellespont. Their engineering acumen is unsurpassed. Has it occurred to no one that they made it wider to avoid these collapses?”

      “I know not, my lord, I was only apprised of all this recently. But of course, you speak rightly. Should all adopt the model?”

      “Where possible, unless it would take longer to widen it than to shore it up and finish. They must use discretion, if that is not asking too much.” Perhaps he ought to have put Phoenician overseers in charge of this entire project too. He had instead opted to maintain autonomy between the different nations working on the canal, but what he gained in peace he lost in quality.

      “I will make your wishes known.”

      “I trust you will. Mardonius!”

      His cousin and oldest friend set his course for the throne. Artabanus stiffened but managed a polite greeting.

      Mardonius offered him a taunting smile, then nodded with more sincerity to Xerxes. “The king is looking well this morning.”

      Xerxes chuckled. “For once I believe your flattery. Have you seen Haman yet?”

      His friend shook his head. “He is probably riding with your brother, master.”

      “If you see them before I do, tell him to come to me at once.”

      “Certainly.” With a courteous bow, Mardonius strode off.

      Artabanus released a pent-up breath and muttered, “I maintain that such a wise king ought not surround himself with such injudicious advisers.”

      His lips wanted to twitch up. “Uncle, need I remind you that the advice you consider his greatest offense is the war you now believe in?”

      “If a man advocates a wise course for the wrong reasons, it makes him not wise, my lord. Only lucky. It is obvious from our visions that the god wishes you to lead us against Greece. That does not mean the evil one will not try to turn your certain victory into defeat through the bad advice of fools.”

      “But even within the advice of fools is often hidden a pearl of wisdom. A wise man searches it out before dismissing the rest. And when a wise man has a wise uncle to help him discern those pearls . . .”

      His uncle’s lips finally curved up. “Then blessings will follow, and soon enough you will rule all the world. You know my worries are only out of my devotion to you.”

      “Indeed. Go, write your missive to Mount Athos. I will speak with Darius for a moment.”

      “Ah, СКАЧАТЬ