“It is going well,” Bigthan paused lowering his voice to Teresh (no, not yet another form of dinosaur, rather a rat of the conspiratorial genre). “The acquisition of 381 more maidens will require great ‘expenditures’, and it is from these that we will have the means to accomplish those things which are necessary.”
“And the queen?” queried his companion.
“She is on fire with the idea and will assure us of all that happens inside the house of women.” Bigthan thought for a moment, then continued, “It will, of course, take time to accumulate sufficient funds for our purpose, but we can be patient so as not to arouse undue attention”.
“Who will cover the accounts?”
“Find someone from outside the palace; someone who knows nothing of harems and such matters; in fact maybe one of those immigrant Jews who take on small tasks. He can report exclusively to you. He need know nothing of the facts, just balance our figures by the information you feed him”.
Three days later Mordecai was at his books in his small place of business. The noise of the street was beginning to die as people sought food and refuge from the sun. The ebb and flow of the activity correlated directly to the suffocating warmth that faithfully worked its way into every corner. He had decided, despite the heat, to stay at work during the afternoon meal. The drab gray awning of the merchant across the street did not flutter in the least. Just an hour before the voice of his fellow trader had bounced off the walls of Mordecai’s office as he cajoled customers into buying his pottery works. Now he was nowhere to be seen or heard, thankfully.
A deputy from the department of economic affairs had sent word that he would drop by with more information and preliminaries for the agreed upon work that Mordecai was to perform. He got up from his table and went to the corner where there was a water pot seated on a small matching dish. The sides of the pot were “sweating”, as the deeper tones of the clay attested. This assured that even in desert heat the evaporative effect would keep the water refreshing to the palate. A small vessel was on a stand next to the pot; this he filled and took back to his place.
Before he took his place once again behind the small table he used for a work area, he glanced momentarily out the small window down the direction that led towards his house. Esther had insisted that she would bring him his meal if he were not coming home. He had declined, but she acted as though she did not hear him. He was anxious for her to arrive despite his stated opposition. If he had had a pocket watch, it would have seen double duty that morning.
He had just reapplied himself to the task spread before him, when he heard a strain of laughter he knew to be Esther’s. She was no doubt making her way down the street and not missing a chance to greet as many as she might. She would most certainly pause and argue with his friend Reuben about anything he wanted to tease her about. Then she would certainly stick an ear into Rebecca’s kitchen two doors down. There she would promise to stop on the way home to visit a few minutes with the good-natured widow.
“Uncle, you must be starved. Forgive me for being late, but Rebecah…”
“Its okay Child; it makes no difference.” Mordecai cut her off. “Come lets clear this table and we shall sit together while I eat all those things I said I didn’t need that you brought anyway.” He winked.
Their time together was as delightful to them both as if they had been at their usual lunchtime surroundings. The tangy olives and richness of the aged sheep cheese refreshed him. These were accompanied by fresh bread dipped in oil and hastened to its resting place with the help of white wine. After the meal Esther moved about gracefully in the small office, adding her touch to its contents wherever she deemed it necessary. Actually, things were generally in good order, as her uncle was an efficient man.
The small room darkened momentarily, and a shadow fell across the floor as a man of medium stature filled the small doorway. Everything about him spoke of officialdom and he seemed pleased that it was so. He gratefully ducked through the door at Mordecai’s beckoning. He held in his hands a form of satchel, supposedly of the kind brought up from Egypt used for carrying the rolled parchments which were now the popular form of any written record. These had come into common use as opposed to animal skin. The production of such was much easier, and they were compact and transportable.
“Yes, sir, may I help you with something?” Mordecai asked pushing slightly back from his table in preparation for rising.
“Possibly. I am looking for Mordecai the accountant.”
“Yes, I am he, would you be from the finance minister?”
“That is correct, I have…..” the man stood there in mid sentence with mouth open. His eyes had caught sight of the young woman moving about the back of the room and he was so transfixed that he seemingly lost not only his bearings, but the compass and sails as well.
Mordecai gave him a few seconds, but he didn’t really seem to be reconnecting. “You have…?” Mordecai called his attention back.
“Uh, yes the parchments that you will need to begin the assignment you have been given.” His eyes were off course again and following the movements of the incredible creature in the corner of the room. He set the small shoulder bag on the table, at least that was his intended destination, but basically missed, catching only the corner, which promptly dumped the contents all over his feet. After collecting the documents, he made a stab at recomposure and said “The minister deputy wanted me to tell you that as soon as you have had opportunity to peruse these figures, he would like you to come to his station in the administrative section of the palace. Are you familiar with it?” He was a little more given to the task at hand now.
“Oh yes, I am somewhat, as I have had other responsibilities that have taken me there. Do you suppose that the first of next week would be good timing?”
At that moment, Esther turned, excusing herself from her uncle and the gentleman. “I need to return home Uncle to begin preparations for the evening meal before I go to the river to wash.” She pecked his cheek as she glided past him out into the street. As she did, the visitor saw her full face for the first time. He was not prepared for such an encounter. He had never seen eyes more stunning. He was so entranced that he lost all pretext of carrying on a responsible conversation. He had totally turned away from his host and was staring at the figure that was passing out of sight. It was not the malignant stare that often pursues beautiful women, but rather the stare of one in absolute wonder.
“Where….uh, where did you….I mean she’s your…uh…I have never seen such beauty.” He was talking to himself more than to Mordecai.
“Yes, it is remarkable, but the greater beauty of my niece is not perceived through the physical eye” replied the older man observing carefully his visitor. “I have heard a proverb of the ancients that young men would do well to remember,” he paused to allow the fellow to land back on earth, “that beauty in a woman unaccompanied by discretion is like a gold ring in a pig’s nose.”
The man eyed him thoughtfully as he pondered the words; his head slowly nodded in assent and then in lowered voice directed to the older man. “That is wisdom indeed, and most certainly the actions of Vashti should serve as ample verification of your proverb.” With that, the conversation left current events and was devoted to the rescued documents that now rested safely in the center of the table.
As the caller terminated his mission and turned to leave, he looked back and said to Mordecai: “Did you know that the king has sent an order throughout all of the empire in search of the most beautiful maidens?” Mordecai had heard some such thing rumored but paid very little heed to the gossip that daily prowled the streets.
“I may have,” he answered now curious as to the younger man’s direction.
“Well, sir, I should think that niece of yours should have a place amongst them.” He spoke with the precaution of one who was prying around the edges but didn’t want to totally remove the lid.
“Esther?” Mordecai sputtered a little, “No she could never be part of that for we are …
ah… I mean she is so young and uneducated in the ways of life.” He was feeling cornered by the fellow and thrashed about in his mind for an immediate conclusion to the conversation.
“Possibly, but as you said, discretion is of great value.” He left the accountant with that note, having perceived the clouding of his countenance.
Mordecai returned to his seat, but his beloved numbers just wouldn’t perform for him. He was disturbed and felt very threatened. Something cold and dark was reaching after him and he was not willing to look it in the face.
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