Free Lilah by Marek Halter Page B

Mordechai the chariot-maker?’
    It was less a question than an assertion.
    Mordechai was normally an imposing figure: tall, with a narrow, angular face, lively eyes and coal-black eyebrows. There was hardly any situation he was unable to face. But now there was a noticeable quiver of fear in his voice as he replied, ‘Yes, I am Mordechai, son of Azaryah.’
    Should he bow? Treat him as if he were a lord of the Citadel?
    The soldiers around the chariot waited impassively, and the driver was as still as a statue. Out of the corner of his eye, Mordechai noticed more soldiers at the entrance to the house beside a wagon drawn by two mules.
    The eunuch gave a half-smile, which seemed to transform his face into a pool of water shivering inthe wind. ‘My name is Cohapanikes. I am the third cupbearer to the Great Queen, mother of the King of Kings, first master of the world. I have come for your niece Lilah, daughter of Serayah.’
    Behind her husband, Sarah let out a cry. Other cries could be heard from the workshop. Mordechai’s mouth fell open. He was gasping for breath.
    The eunuch seemed pleased with the effect of his words. He raised his arm, which was as smooth and pale as his face, and brandished a cane of Egyptian ebony with an ivory and coral tip. ‘It is the Queen’s wish! Obey!’
    Mordechai found it hard to take this in. ‘The Queen wants Lilah?’ he said in astonishment.
    â€˜Are you deaf? It is an order from Queen Parysatis. Your niece Lilah must follow where I lead.’ He laughed again. ‘Don’t make that face. The Queen is doing you a great honour, chariot-maker. Come on! Hurry up! The Queen is waiting, and the Queen does not like to be kept waiting.’
    Sitting in the wagon, Lilah needed the whole journey across the city to recover her composure.
    It had been Axatria and Aunt Sarah who had come running and told her, with much rolling of eyes, about the incredible thing that was happening.
    â€˜But why?’ Lilah had asked. ‘What does she want with me?’
    There had been a gleam of pride in Sarah’s eyes, chasing away the terror they had held a short while earlier. ‘She must have heard of your beauty,’ she had suggested. ‘Perhaps she wants you in her service.’
    The idea had seemed so preposterous to Lilah that she had stood rooted to the spot.
    Panic had seized the household. Axatria had tried to dress Lilah appropriately, but Sarah had pushed her away: nothing was suitable – nothing was beautiful enough – and they did not even have time to rearrange her hair.
    â€˜It’s because of Antinoes,’ Lilah had said at last.
    Axatria and Sarah had looked at each other, all pride and excitement gone from their faces. Axatria had grimaced and shrugged her shoulders. ‘That may be so, but
he
won’t tell you that,’ she had muttered, gesturing to the outer courtyard where the Queen’s eunuch could be heard shouting.
    The third cupbearer had brusquely refused the wine Uncle Mordechai had offered him while he waited, then had stormed and threatened until Lilah was ready to come out.
    At last he had fallen silent. He had screwed up his eyes, and looked her up and down with the same arrogant expression he had previously used for Mordechai. At last, a smile of satisfaction had creased his flabby face. It was not a reassuring smile.
    When Lilah had sat down on the bench in the wagon, Uncle Mordechai had looked at her out of his pale face, begging her with his eyes to be careful. Sarah had lifted a trembling hand, tears already down to her chin. Axatria and the handmaids and workers who had gathered by the gate stared at her as if they would never see her again.
    The third cupbearer had given the order to depart. The wagon had set off, and Lilah had closed her eyes, trying not to think of what might await her.
    Their procession attracted attention as it passed through the streets. Two soldiers ran in front of