Harvest of Rubies (17 page)

It didn’t take me long to grow winded, and I collapsed against a peach tree, out of breath.

“I think you lost that race, my lady,” a man’s voice said behind me, making me jump and hit my head against a branch.

Grabbing the crown of my head with a rueful hand, I turned in the direction of the voice. “Who are you?”

Under a shock of white hair, the man’s craggy face split into two, courtesy of a wide smile, showing off his five remaining teeth. “My name is Bardia, my lady. I’m the head gardener.”

I was too polite to tell him that he seemed ancient for a job that required so much physical exertion. No wonder the orchard appeared neglected. “Did Teispes hire you?” I asked, thinking it just like the parsimonious steward to employ an aged man for less pay.

“Teispes hire
me
? I should say not. My family has worked for his lordship’s family three generations now. I have tilled Passargadae land since I remember. Teispes has barely been around three years.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“That’s all right, my lady. You didn’t know any better.”

I tried not to smile. Such show of magnanimity from servant to mistress was unusual, not to mention inappropriate. It was clear that his long years with the family had taught him to take certain liberties with an earnest and unself-conscious temerity.

“Do you have many men helping you manage the land?”

The white head bent. “I used to.”

“Let me guess. The steward has dismissed most of your workers.”

“You don’t think I would allow the orchard to fall into this condition if I had sufficient help, do you, my lady?”

“Why don’t you ask for Lord Darius’s help?”

That wide, gap-toothed smile flashed out, accompanied by the wave of a veiny hand. “No need. No need. The young
lord has too many responsibilities to be bothered with my concerns. Every year sent to a new province, a new war, a new trouble to deal with. This is the longest he’s been at home since he was a lad. And shall I embitter his time at home with my grumblings?”

I took a step toward him. “I can see that you’re a good man and a devoted retainer, Bardia. But don’t you think that Lord Darius would prefer to bear the inconvenience of dealing with this problem rather than allow his estate to fall into ruin?”

He pulled on a wrinkled earlobe. “I’ll take care of the place myself, as long as I can. When I’ve lost my strength, I’ll burden the young lord. No sense harassing him now.”

I wondered what kind of man could inspire such devotion. The Darius I knew was ruthless and cynical. I would be happy to add to his burdens. Clearly, Bardia saw him with different eyes. Perhaps he still perceived him through the prism of his memories as a young boy, amiable and dependent, needy of his protection.

He should see his master slay a lion without batting an eyelash. Or skewer my future at the end of his sharp tongue. I bore no illusions about that man. He could manage every inconvenience thrown his way. Besides, after marrying me, dealing with a bad steward would hardly ruffle his hair.

I did not delude myself, however, into thinking that I could convince the gardener to tell his young master the truth. It was obvious that his commitment to shielding Darius from every form of aggravation was his primary concern.

If I managed to bear some influence upon this stingy steward, perhaps I could force him to hire some help for the old man. I might be able to improve his hard life a little.

“As you wish,” I said and turned to leave.

“It’s good to have a lady in residence here again. There hasn’t been one since my lord Vivan passed the estate to his son. This place could use a mistress like you.”

He would not say that if he knew the circumstances of my marriage or the reason his master had gone to Ecbatana with the rest of the court, abandoning me here. “I’m not much of a lady,” I said with a brittle smile.

“Of course you are. Don’t take to heart his lordship leaving like that. Young men are proud. He will come to his senses; you’ll see.”

I coughed, choking on my saliva. How much did he know about my relationship with his master? Servants were notorious for their knowledge of household gossip. And yet he had said nothing that hinted of criticism. He seemed actually glad to have me here.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Come and visit me tomorrow if you wish, my lady. I’ll be in the orchard again.”

Here was another lonely soul trapped in my husband’s gilded cage, I thought. Perhaps that was why he seemed so accepting of me—a woman who had betrayed his beloved master. Perhaps I was better than nothing. Clearly he was parched for company.

A head gardener would normally have an army of helpers for companionship. He could even expect regular visits from his master, for the Persians were mad over their gardens. The king was known to tend his garden with his own royal hands whenever his schedule allowed. More than one Achaemenid king had raised a talented gardener to the position of governor, for if a man could transform a piece of barren land into a blooming orchard, what could he not do with a province?

In the old days Bardia would have been considered an elevated
and worthy retainer. He would have enjoyed his master’s devotion. Now he was ancient and abandoned. Unwanted, like me. I resolved to visit him on the morrow.

The next morning I sent Pari in search of the steward once more. We had waited past midnight the previous evening, but he had not arrived. She returned with the news that the steward had left earlier in the morning.

“Earlier? It’s barely sunup! Where has he gone this time?”

“Nobody knows. He isn’t in the habit of explaining himself.”

“Well, he is about to change his habits.” I pulled my robe over my head. I had to hold my breath to pull it down over my belly. “A small breakfast for me,” I mumbled.

Pari threw me an I-told-you-so glance, which I ignored. Caspian bumped his wet nose against my arm. “Stop that, you mangy monster. I can’t believe the howling outside my chamber last night.”

“I can’t believe you let him in,” Pari said with a giggle.

“As long as he doesn’t get onto my bed. Do you hear me, dog?”

Caspian whimpered. “Perhaps we should stop by the kitchens to get Caspian something to eat.”

Before we made our way to the kitchens, however, I had one more stop to make. I wanted to examine Teispes’s accounts. Did Darius keep him on the strength of the money he saved the household? If so, I had to find other ways of economy so that my husband would not resent the additional expense of the changes I wished to make. We found the records room as locked and sealed as my husband’s treasury, however. Teispes
was really beginning to irritate me.

Caspian could be obligingly obedient when he chose, and at my bidding, he waited outside the kitchen door without fuss.

Shushan stood as we came in. “Good morning,” I said. “Do you perchance have any leftovers for the dog? He is behaving like a gentleman at the moment, but some food might help keep his temper biddable.”

“Yes, my lady. In fact I’ve been saving him a few things.” Caspian was in ecstasy over his meal. I wondered what he had eaten before Pari took an interest in him. Surely Teispes would not be so foolish as to neglect his master’s favorite hunting dog.

“May I have a little yogurt and honey?” I said when I returned to the kitchen. I had decided that I would tame my unhealthy appetite and stop consuming food as a pastime. Pari refused to join me, as it was not proper for a servant to eat before her mistress. In the end I convinced her to eat in one corner of the kitchen while I ate in the other. I could not have her walking about the estate suffering pangs of hunger.

“We are going to visit Bardia in the orchard again today,” I informed Shushan over the expanse of room that separated us. She was a little scandalized to see me eat in the kitchen, I think, and I wanted to try and put her at ease. “Since we cannot find the steward, I thought we would converse with the gardener to see what he lacks.”

“Oh my lady, if you are going there, perhaps your handmaiden would be willing to take the old man some food that I have set aside for him. He forgets to eat, sometimes. Before the new steward arrived, Bardia’s men came daily and picked up his rations for him. Now he has little help and is so concerned over his trees and flowers that he doesn’t give his stomach a thought.”

“We would be happy to help.”

We could not find Bardia in the orchards, however. I asked Pari if she knew where the old man lived and she led me to a small cottage built at the edge of a diminutive pond. We knocked and found no answer.

“We should leave the food inside, out of the heat of the sun,” I said. Feeling awkward at my intrusion, I walked in, intending to leave the bundle and go. What I saw froze me in place. The room stank of mold and was covered in dust. Walls, needing repair, had been left to crumble in spots and a large damp stain on the floor indicated the source of the moisture. There was only one chair, and when I examined it, I found it to be broken. His bedding, rolled neatly against the wall, had absorbed the smell of mold and needed a good washing.

I fumed over Darius’s lack of care for his faithful retainer. The old man deserved better.

“This place needs a cleaning,” Pari said, pulling up the hem of her skirt to keep it from touching the floor.

“It needs a great deal more than that. That poor man spends his whole time in the gardens of his master; he has no time left to care for his own home.”

I left the food on the lopsided chair and walked out. Back in the palace I bid Pari to gather together what cleaning supplies she could and we headed back to the cottage.

“My lady, you can’t scrub the floor! Why don’t you just go outside and let me do the work?”

“I want to finish before he returns; it will shame him to find us here, picking up after him. Even with the two of us we shan’t make much dent in this disaster of a cottage in one afternoon. This needs workmen, not cleaning women.”

“But my lady—!”

“Stop making speeches and join me. I can’t bear for that man to come home to such a mess one more time.”

We returned to the palace again to fetch clean sheets and a sturdier blanket, which I took off my own bed. I also brought a footstool made of mahogany and ivory—one of the gifts of the queen for my wedding. After several hours of labor, the cottage was cleaner, but we had not been able to rid it of the damp, which was seeping through the foundations.

We would have to find a more permanent solution to Bardia’s living conditions. Either the building would have to receive appropriate repairs or he would have to move to the palace. I had little hope of convincing him of the latter and resolved to find Teispes and force him to attend the situation.

In one of life’s inexplicable coincidences, on our final trek back to the palace we ran straight into Teispes. His jaw grew even longer as he gaped at me.

“Just the man I wanted to see,” I said, taking advantage of his surprise. “Bardia’s living conditions are deplorable. His cottage is overrun by damp and mold and must be repaired.”

“Bardia?”

“The head gardener, though head of whom, it’s hard to tell; he seems to be working the gardens and orchards almost single-handedly. He needs more help.”

“My lady need not concern herself regarding the running of the estate. That is my job.”

I bit the side of my mouth in an attempt to control my temper. “It is a job that comes with much responsibility. I am happy to assist you where I can.”

“No need for you to become involved.”

I noted the dropped title, the hardening of the tone, the crossed arms; it seemed wise to change tact. “I would like to go into the records chamber and examine the accounts.”

The steward took a long step back. “That chamber is locked.”

“So I found. You have the key, I presume?”

He did not answer, but gazed at me without flinching.

I took that as a
yes
. “Good. In that case, let us proceed.”

“I could not possibly open that door without his lordship’s permission.”