I retired to my room, ignoring the women’s startled looks as I left. What I needed to focus on was Darius’s blasted letter. I could not afford to put it off any longer. Gobry was bound to find an available courier for us soon, and I had to be ready.
Settling myself next to Caspian, I pulled out a sheet of clean parchment and began my missive.
To Lord Darius Passargadae, Friend to the King of Kings, Captain of the—
Caspian’s growls interrupted my train of thought a short moment before there was a knock on the door. Pari would neither have caused the growl nor bothered with the knock. I pulled the door open to find Teispes on the other side of it.
“My lady,” he said, and bowed low.
This was new. “Yes?”
“I’ve come to apologize.”
I tried to school my features into something like nonchalance. Or at least not to give away the fact that I was about to swallow my tongue. “Indeed?”
“I have behaved abominably. Even though it was his lordship himself who bade me most forcefully to treat you—I pray you’ll forgive me for plain speaking—to treat you with contempt, I feel ashamed of my own conduct. I ought never to have addressed you in such a manner, no matter what my lord may have commanded. I blame the pressures of this job. I manage so many properties and with my lord always absent, the responsibility falls on my shoulders alone. I would never have mistreated you if I had not been stretched with so many concerns.”
“I see.” Which I did not. I trusted the steward about as much as I would a spider spinning a web for a wounded fly. I supposed he wished to soften me up in order to undermine my guard. So I forced my lips into a smile and said, “Under the circumstances, shall we start afresh?”
He bowed. “My lady is too gracious. That is indeed what I hoped for.” He bent down and picked up a tray. “A peace offering,” he said.
He had brought me mulled wine and dates. What captured my attention, however, was the sight of a vellum parchment resting at the side of the tray. I picked up the parchment, worried about its proximity to the wine. It was a Babylonian copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh.
“I found it in my lord’s library. I thought you might enjoy it.”
Since my husband’s personal library was kept in the same room as his records, I had not had the opportunity to get my hands on any reading material since I had arrived. Giving a scroll to a starved lover of stories was bribery at its most elevated. I almost succumbed. “Thank you,” I said. I put the vellum on a couch, took the tray from him, and closed the door in his face before I gave in to temptation.
An hour later, I was lost in the story of Gilgamesh when
Caspian went rigid beside me. He leapt up and ran to the door and began barking and whining, scratching the door with such force, I thought he might gouge the door.
Then I heard it too, the sound of men speaking in the distance. Caspian was going wild at the door. I worried that if I let him out, he might try to take a bite out of whomever was visiting. I tried to soothe him with comforting words, but he would not be quieted. Finally, I grabbed a hold of his collar and opened the door with caution, hoping to learn the identity of the visitors.
Caspian leapt with such wild strength that I lost my hold on him. He stood on his hind legs, and placed his paws on the shoulders of the man standing just outside my door. The man was trapped under Caspian’s ecstatic reception, his hand still raised, clearly arrested in the act of knocking. The dog began to lick his face with delight.
I took an involuntary step back, transfixed by the sight. My missive would remain unwritten, it seemed. My husband was home.
I
had a few moments to wrap my mind around Darius’s unexpected arrival while Caspian kept him occupied with his delirious welcome. He had shaved his face in the manner of the Egyptians. I had seen a few other young Persian men follow this fashion in the summertime when the heat must have made a beard uncomfortable. Clean-shaven, his face was even more stunning than before, and yet the absence of a beard made him appear strangely vulnerable. For the first time I noticed that when he laughed there were grooves on his cheeks, and that his whole face softened when he was happy.
I also saw that he was weary. Shadows marred his eyes and he seemed pale. Tired or no, he clearly enjoyed Caspian’s playful presence.
“What are you doing here, you mangy monster?” he said with the edge of a laugh coloring his voice. “Get down.
Sit.” To
my surprise, Caspian obeyed immediately. He had never
responded to my commands with anything more than superior disdain.
Part of me would have preferred a toothache to the upcoming conversation. Another part of me, however, grew limp with relief. I knew in my bones that Darius would take care of the problems with Teispes. I knew that I would no longer have to bear the burden of responsibility.
Of course I still had to make him listen to me, which was simpler said than done.
With Caspian well heeled and quiet, Darius now turned his attention to me. Frowning, he said, “Pardon, I was looking for my …” He stopped speaking for a moment and stared. “Is it
you?”
he blurted.
This, I had not expected. Had I changed so much from the girl on the hill? I bowed. “It is I, my lord.”
“Well. You seem to have many faces.” His smile was not pleasant. “How fitting.”
I chose to ignore his barb. No doubt many more of a similar vein would follow in its wake. If I chased after every bitter accusation in order to defend myself, I would never resolve the issue of the crooked steward.
“My lord, your arrival at this time is most fortuitous.”
Darius leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms. “Is that so?”
“Yes, indeed.” I cleared my throat. “The fact is I have some bad news.”
“My arrival is fortuitous because you have bad news? How like you to find sharing bad news a fortunate thing. Tell me, wife, what is it you have up your silk-covered sleeves this time?”
I turned away from him in a half circle of exasperation. “My lord, I did you an ill turn, and I am heartily sorry for it,” I said,
turning back, willing him to believe me. “One day, I hope you will see that I did so unintentionally. But in the meantime I am in a position to do you some good.”
“By all means, do your good deed. Play your little game. You will not find me as easy a target as Damaspia.”
Again, I ignored his sarcasm. “May I ask you something? Did you warn Teispes of your coming?” I thought of the steward’s peace offering a scant hour before and wondered if that was because he had received warning of Darius’s arrival and was trying to hedge his bets.
Darius lowered his brows. “Teispes? No. We left Ecbatana too suddenly to send word ahead. Why?”
“Because now you will see for yourself how he runs the estate when you are not here.”
“I see. It’s about Teispes then, this bad news of yours? Perchance you think you would do a better job running my estate for me?”
“My lord, I know you have ridden hard and must be bone weary. But would you mind coming with me to visit Bardia in his cottage right away?”
He straightened up and I realized that he had merely been baiting me until now. Everything about him turned hard and wary. He was still encased in summer riding clothes, tan linen trousers, and a form-fitting knee-length linen tunic split on both sides for ease of movement. There was nothing of the aristocrat about him; he stood before me a warrior through and through. And the dagger of his anger was pointed at my heart.
“If you have harmed one hair on that old man’s head—if you have tried to manipulate him to get your own way—I promise you Sarah, I will make your life a misery.”
Far from growing annoyed by his threat, I cheered up to find him so protective of Bardia. I could at least respect that.
“I would never harm him in any way,” I promised. “Come and see for yourself.”
The sun had set long ago and I knew we would find the head gardener in his cottage. Darius bade his mastiff to stay in my rooms as we departed. We walked the path together in silence. I had to admire Darius’s patience. I would have pelted him with questions by now.
Before we arrived at the cottage, Bardia pulled the door open and rushed out to greet us. “My lord! My good lord!” he cried and grasped Darius in his ropy arms as if he were hugging a little boy instead of a man twice his own size. With amazement I saw my husband settle into that embrace without self-consciousness or hesitation.
“How are you, old man?”
“As well as can be expected. Why did you not tell us you were coming? Your timing is incredible, master. We were about to send for you.”
“May we come in, Bardia?” I said.
He looked down. “My cottage is—”
“The perfect place to start.”
Bardia nodded and led us in. Darius followed with unhesitating steps until he stood inside and his eyes adjusted to the lamplight. “What’s happened here?” he exploded as he looked about him at the peeling walls and the damp ground. “Why are you living like this?”
“The damp has been seeping from the pond,” I said.
“Why have I not been told about this? Does Teispes know?”
“Yes, my lord. I told him myself, but he refuses to do anything about it.”
“Is this true?” he asked Bardia.
“Yes, lord.”
“Wretched man! I’ll deal with him.” Darius marched out
and it was all Bardia and I could do to keep up with him.
“My lord,” I panted. “There is more, much more that you should know first.”
“More?”
He came to a halt and I almost plowed into him.
“Perhaps if we went to my chambers first, I could tell you. Bardia can join us if you prefer. He knows as much as I. Darius nodded and headed down the path with his single-minded gait again. When we arrived at my door I was out of breath. As soon as we walked in, Caspian sat up guiltily. The goblet of wine the steward had brought me was overturned on the floor, its contents spilt over the tiles; the dog had obviously been having a good lick.
“Caspian!” I cried, pulling him away from what remained of the wine. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Look at this mess.”
“Why is he in here anyway?” Darius asked.
“He sleeps here.”
“Here? You’ve turned my best hunter into a lap dog?”
My chest began to itch. “He was half starved when we found him. What was I to do? Turn him away hungry? Besides, he’s the one who has decided he is master of my chamber. I had barely let him in before he made himself at home. He tolerates my presence out of magnanimity; otherwise, I’m sure he thinks these are
his
rooms.”
“Where is the games keeper? Why was my dog left unattended? Where are the other dogs?” Ire flowed out of every pore as he stood in the middle of my chamber, making it shrink with the force of his presence. “What’s going on here?”
“Will you not have a seat, my lord?” I suggested, hoping to calm him.
“I don’t feel like sitting.”
“Well, Bardia and I can’t sit unless you do, and it’s going to
be a long night if you make us all stand as we answer your questions. It’s a complicated story.”
He gaped at me as if I were one of Persepolis’s mythical stone creatures come to life. I realized that as usual I had spoken my mind without thinking, and that the onslaught of such a rejoinder must be a new experience for a young Passargadae lord.
“I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to be so blunt.”
He shook his head and looked at me again through narrowed eyes. Without another word he sat on a stool. I perched myself on the edge of a couch and Bardia folded his legs and made himself comfortable on the floor.
“Bardia, tell his lordship how many men work under you now.”
“Two. One is part-time, and the other is a bumbling fool who knows as much about plants as I do about stars, which is to say nothing.”
Darius leaned forward. “You mean twenty.”
The gardener shook his head. “I mean two.”
“That’s impossible. How can you keep up with the land and the vineyard with two men? Where are the rest?”
“Teispes let them go, master. He’s been dismissing the staff steadily for almost three years now. We have few of the servants you or your father hired anymore. He didn’t dare cast Shushan and me out, and kept on a few others, but he got rid of most of the rest. The small staff he has hired is useless and lazy. They’re just his spies. The rest of us, he runs ragged.”
Darius sprang up. Out of respect so did Bardia and I. “Great holy fires, will you two sit down?” We did as he commanded.
“Bardia, why have you not told me this before? Have you been trying to keep up with the gardens alone? You must be beyond exhausted. This is not the old age you deserve.”
“I didn’t wish to add to your burdens, my lord.”