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Authors: Tessa Afshar

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Religion

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BOOK: Harvest of Rubies
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If Israel was God’s vineyard, was I one of His little vines? Was He the Bardia of my soul? Did He shield me from what would destroy me? Was He stripping me now on purpose only to give me a more abundant life? Would I, one day, bear fruit worthy of a king’s table?

 

The thought brought tears to my eyes. I would not let them fall. I gripped the dying branch Bardia had cut until my fingers grew numb. This was the life I wanted, and God had taken it from me. I did not want more abundant fruit. I just wanted what I’d had before.

 

 

While we waited for Gobry’s return, I formed a plan. We needed to find out as much about Teispes as we could. His habits, his connections, and his pastimes could give us clues to the mystery of the mismanagement of the estate. Which led us to Mondays. Where did Teispes go for so many hours? And who did he spend his time with?

 

The only way to find out was to follow him. I could not take everyone; he would be bound to notice such a crowd. Nor did I dare go alone in case something went wrong and I needed to send for help. In the end I took Bardia with me and convinced Pari and Shushan to stay behind. They could seek assistance in case we failed to return.

 

I did not sleep on Sunday night. I whiled the hours away questioning the validity of my precarious plan. Teispes was not a man to play games with. I knew him to be dangerous. My scheme placed Bardia’s life in as much danger as my own. And for what? The capture of a dishonest steward? If my husband did not care about the state of his property, why should I?

 

But it was not about the property or the money. This concerned the well-being of … of my friends. With dawning realization I acknowledged that it had been some time since I had thought of these people as my servants. I saw them as my friends. They had offered me a kind of friendship that I had never known. They had sought my company and called it joy.
They had heard my fears and comforted me. They had known me at my worst and abided with me. I had to do what I could to relieve them of their growing distress.

 

While the horizon was still cloaked in darkness, I dressed myself with Pari’s help and met Bardia outside the steward’s room. We did not have long to wait. He came out looking well rested. There was a spring in his long stride as he headed for the stables. I groaned inwardly, resenting his cheerful expression; resenting his refreshing slumber; and most of all, resenting his choice to ride to his destination.

 

I had thought of this eventuality, of course. It was the most likely possibility given the palace’s distance from town. I just didn’t like it. I couldn’t ride a horse to save my life, and donkeys made me queasy. We chose a donkey. At least we didn’t have to worry about travel documents; we were considered a suburb of Persepolis.

 

Bardia and I shared a docile beast as we followed Teispes at a safe distance. Bardia, accustomed to riding the brute, sat in front and dealt with its ornery nature, while I sat behind him, clutching the gardener’s skinny middle, praying that I would not fall off.

 

By the time Teispes entered the heart of Persepolis, the sun was rising in the east, looking as magnificent as a royal crown. Its showy glory made no impression on me. I had one desire: for the steward to arrive at his mysterious assignation so that I could get off that swaying beast. I received my wish soon enough. On a street lined with shops, he brought his mount to a stop and handed the reins to a waiting lad.

 

Bardia and I stopped a long way off for fear that he would notice us. Teispes seemed unaware of our presence, however, and bounded up a set of wooden stairs to the top floor of a commercial building. I stood back and examined the street. Many
of the lower buildings were occupied by modest shops—cobblers, potters, taverns. The top floors in contrast seemed residential. Though it was not a luxurious neighborhood, it was not a cheap one either. The buildings appeared in good repair, the street wide and clean, with miniature flowerpots boasting cheerful colors in front of many of the stores.

 

“Wait here,” I told Bardia; he stuck to me like glue, following my every step. I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Keep quiet then, and don’t interrupt no matter what I say.”

 

One floor below the apartment where Teispes had headed, a portly merchant began opening his diminutive shop.

 

Cosmetics. Fabulous. The only cosmetic I knew anything about was kohl; I had once seen the queen’s maids making a batch of the black powder used for darkening the eyes. With painstaking patience, they had burned almonds and pistatues one at a time. The soot had been gathered on the bottom of a clay bowl, and scraped off to use as kohl.

 

“Do you have any kohl? Made from almonds, mind, and fresh,” I said, trying to sound like I knew what I was talking about.

 

“I have twenty-three varieties, mistress. Which would you like?”

 

I nearly choked on my saliva.
Twenty-three varieties?
How many blighted ways were there of burning an almond to cinders? I pointed haphazardly to a silver amphora. It was small enough not to cost a fortune. He named a price that almost made me choke again.

 

After a few more tries and severe haggling I became the owner of kohl I did not need. However, my merchant was in an expansive mood, which is what I did need.

 

“I’m looking to rent a place in town. A friend told me that apartment above your shop might be available.”

 

“That one there?” The merchant straightened his rounded hat. “That’s well occupied. You’ve been misinformed.”

 

“Are you sure? My friend seemed certain that it was becoming vacant.”

 

“Never. That set of rooms is occupied by Aspasia. She does pretty well for herself. She might be a courtesan, but she only has the one customer, and he takes good care of her, he does. In fact you just missed him; he’s up there right now.”

 

Bardia started clearing his throat. I jammed my elbow in his side and he quieted down. “A
hetaira
, is she? Do you know if she needs any help? I could always use a partner.”

 

Bardia began to cough violently. I slapped him across the back.

 

“Is he all right?” the merchant asked.

 

“Oh yes. Just getting on in years, you know. So hard to find good help these days,” I said. “About this Aspasia.”

 

“That’s right. You wanted to know if she was in the market for a partner. I doubt it. Doesn’t need to, with this long-jawed fellow who visits her at least once a week on Mondays come rain or shine, and more, when he gets the chance. He pays for everything—her rent, her clothes, her food. What need would the likes of her have for a partner?”

 

His gaze was bold as he examined me from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. “Now, if you’re looking for a protector, I might be interested in a classy girl like you. What’s your rate then?”

 

This was the first time in my life I had been propositioned, although I suppose I had unwittingly set myself up for it. I couldn’t make up my mind whether to be flattered or disgusted. It seemed impossible that a man should actually be interested enough in me to be willing to pay for my attentions.

 

Before I could respond, Bardia stepped forward. “You’ll
have to talk to me about that, and I’m busy today.” Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him until we reached our tethered donkey, shoved me onto its back, and joined me before I could wave good-bye to my new admirer. He rode home so fast, my teeth were nearly jostled out of my head.

 

As he strode out of the stables, he was muttering under his breath; I could not hear him well, but I caught something about his fate if Lord Darius ever found us out. I followed behind feeling subdued. Then I noticed that his shoulders were shaking. And he wasn’t coughing either.

 

“You’re back early!” Pari cried as soon as she spied us walking toward the kitchen.

 

“Not early enough,” Bardia said. “She almost got herself contracted as a courtesan to a shopkeeper.”

 

“What?”

 

“I was trying to get information out of him. And it worked.”

 

“What did you find out?” Shushan asked.

 

“We’ll tell you if you feed us,” I said. Minutes before, green from riding that swaying mule, the thought of food would have been the end of me. Now, standing on solid ground and free from the stress of spying, my stomach reminded me I hadn’t eaten anything since noon yesterday.

 

Forgetting the differences between our ranks, we sat together around a simple meal of sheep cheese, hot flat bread, and cooked lentils with onions as Bardia and I shared our adventures with our comrades.

 

Pari whistled. “Quite the ladies’ man, that shifty steward. One woman in Ecbatana, another in Persepolis. Where does he get the time?”

 

“There’s something fishy here,” I said around a mouthful of lentils.

 

“We know
that,”
Shushan said.

 

“No. I mean something doesn’t line up. All the money he saves from the running of this estate is being poured into the factory in Ecbatana. Assuming that’s how he is supporting Mandana and his twins, what is he using to support Aspasia? The full-time upkeep of a courtesan isn’t cheap. He can’t do that on a steward’s salary.”

 

“He must be mismanaging another of Lord Darius’s estates.”

 

“I don’t believe so.” I had considered Shushan’s suggestion myself and had spent time amongst the records to ferret out similar violations elsewhere. “He is only in charge of a handful of properties. From what I could see, only two of them showed considerable irregularities. This one, and the one in Ecbatana.”

 

“So he’s the sole supporter of a courtesan he cannot afford and the father of twins he never sees,” Pari said.

 

“Precisely. Fishy, as I said. We need Gobry’s report, and then perhaps we’ll be able to put this puzzle together.”

 

“In the meantime, my lady, I hope your days as a
hetaira
are over. I don’t think your lord husband would approve. And I dread to think what your father-in-law would say.” Bardia tried to look stern. The sight of his five teeth peeking through his widening mouth ruined the effect.

 

I lifted up my hands as if in question. “I don’t see why they should object; I’m a
classy
girl.”

 

Three people groaned in perfect harmony. “Fine,” I said. “I am retiring. But I want you to remember it was an illustrious career while it lasted.”

 
Chapter Fourteen
                  
 

G
obry arrived five nights later. He showed up at his grandfather’s doorstep without warning; he had had no chance to send us word of his coming. As it was, he must have pulled some strings to be able to complete his mission for us.

 

Royal couriers usually traveled in stages. At the end of each stage, the messenger handed his missive to a fresh courier waiting at an appointed royal staging house. This process sped up the delivery of messages throughout the far-flung kingdom of Persia. In every kind of weather, in sunlight or darkness, royal couriers delivered their dispatches with undreamed of efficiency. But rarely did a messenger carry a missive to its appointed end by himself if the ride was longer than one day, which the ride to Ecbatana certainly was. Somehow Gobry had managed to get himself sent all the way to Ecbatana and back, which meant he had persuaded someone of authority to shift the rules. It was not unheard of, though it required both ingenuity and good standing in the ranks. That he had completed
this mission spoke highly of his abilities.

 

“My lady, I cannot linger. I have yet to report at Persepolis.” It was clear that Gobry had ridden directly to see us. His face was grey with fatigue and the dust of the road.

 

“Of course,” I said. “Tell us what you can.”

 

“For a start, there are no twins.”

 

“No twins?” I squeaked.

 

“Not even one child, male or female. It’s a fabrication. Mandana has never borne children. Also, I asked around, and there are no rumors of Mandana ever being involved with a man.”

 

“Did you meet with her face-to-face?”

 

“I did. She claims that she has never received a raise in pay in the past three years. Her lifestyle is simple and seems to bear out that claim. I interviewed a few of her workers. Everyone thinks highly of her. She is honorable and fair according to her employees. There’s never been even a breath of scandal attached to her conduct.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Pari said. “Where does the money go if not to her?”

BOOK: Harvest of Rubies
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