Free Esther : Royal Beauty (9781441269294) by Angela Elwell Hunt Page A

bored.
    As I entered my fifteenth year, I wondered if life—and the king—would ever return to Susa.
    We heard rumors from the battlefield, of course, as riders from the royal post circulated reports to the governors of the satrapies. We heard about our great king beating the sea into submission at Hellespont; we heard about his amazing victories over Greek cities in the north. We heard that the thunderous approach of his army so frightened rulers that they threw open their city gates and welcomed him, declaring themselves his slaves to avoid facing his sword.
    Merchants in the bazaar draped blue and gold banners over their canopies, proudly displaying the king’s colors. Others emphasized their loyalty to the army, loudly proclaiming that they had donated so many baskets of fruit, so many yards of silk, or so many chickens.
    One morning I left Miriam with the weaver and saw Parysatis walking near another booth. Instead of calling to her, I threaded my way through the crowd, intending to tap her shoulder and surprise her. But before I could catch up, I saw my friend glance over her shoulder and dart down an alley and then run between two brick buildings.
    I stared after her, perplexed. She hadn’t seen me, so this couldn’t be a game. So why was she behaving like a furtive thief?
    I followed to the opening of the alley and saw her at a distance. She walked quickly, her head down and a covered basket on her arm. Intrigued, I followed, but caution stilled my lips.
    At the end of the alley, Parysatis turned, leaving my sight, so Iquickened my steps until I came to the end of the alley and stood in a patch of sunlight. A pile of rotting fruit stood in a corner, emitting an odor that nearly made me sick. Parysatis was kneeling beside it, talking to someone who remained hidden from view.
    Concerned for my friend’s safety, I stepped forward. “Parysatis!”
    She turned, color flooding her face. “Hadassah! You shouldn’t be here.”
    â€œSo why are you here?”
    She stood and turned, shielding whomever crouched behind her. “I’m making a delivery, that’s all. Come, let me walk you back to the bazaar.”
    Terrified for her, I pulled away from Parysatis’s outstretched arm and spied a man on the ground, her basket on his lap. The man’s dark hair was matted and dirty, his hands covered in filth. I had seen beggars who looked like this, but my friend had never shown any interest in beggars.
    â€œWho is this?” The question slipped from my lips before I could stop it, and the man’s head lifted at the sound of my voice. For an instant I stared at the familiar face; then my heart thudded. “Babar! Are you hurt? Were you wounded in battle?”
    I wanted to push Parysatis out of the way and kneel beside him, cleanse his wounds, do whatever was necessary to restore him to health, but something like a wry smile snaked across his lips. “Greetings, Hadassah. It is good to see you.”
    I stared in disbelief. “You’re not wounded?”
    â€œHe’s not wounded; he’s hungry.” Parysatis crossed her arms and turned to regard her brother. “He says he’s not going back to the king.”
    â€œNot going back? I still don’t understand why he’s here.”
    â€œI don’t care if I ever see the king again.” Babar’s gaze strafed my face, and then he took a loaf from Parysatis’s basket and tore at it with his teeth.
    â€œPlease, Hadassah.” Parysatis pulled at my arm. “Please, we must go. You cannot tell anyone that you have seen him; you must not speak of this.”
    â€œBut—” I waved at the distant city gates through which Babar had ridden away months before. “He is a friend of Mushka, and Mushka is the king’s nephew. Why is Babar here? Who would ever want to leave the king?”
    â€œAfter being around the mighty Xerxes, I can’t understand why anyone