Jewel of Persia

*

What could he intend? Mordecai pushed the question, the doubt from his mind and moved to stand beside Esther. The king had forgiven her deception—as for whether he had

forgiven the fact that Mordecai loved his favorite wife . . .

He did not look angry as he slid an arm around Kasia, though. Satisfied and determined, but no longer angry.

Mordecai drew in a long breath and bowed his head. “Your humble servant, my lord.”

“Yes, I know. For years you have sat faithfully in the gates to hear the complaints of your people for me. For years, you have prayed for me, for my empire, for my family.

Your daughter is right. The house of Haman is not sufficient.” The king tugged something from his finger. He offered it in an outstretched palm.

Mordecai stared at the signet. “My lord?”

“Write the decree, Mordecai, concerning the Jews. Sign it in my name and seal it with my ring.”

Was he serious? Mordecai studied Xerxes’ familiar face, Kasia’s smile, Esther’s shoulders, straight and strong under the burden of their people.

When the Lord asked him to represent the Jews, to take in his uncle’s child, to open his eyes to his neighbor’s daughter, he had never expected it would lead him here.

But Jehovah had known.

He reached out and slowly took the ring. “I will use the authority you give me wisely, my king. We shall send out a decree that the Jews are permitted to protect themselves

against their enemies on the day intended for destruction. When the people realize the king is on our side, few will dare stand against us. And those who do will have to

face Zechariah and his men. I do not envy them that.”

“Nor do I. Let it be so.” Xerxes angled a smile to Kasia. “And now that we have the pressing business resolved, I suspect someone would like to meet her newest daughter.



Kasia grinned. “Yes, my arms yearn for her.”

They moved toward the door together, and Mordecai slid an arm around Esther’s shoulders. “I am so proud of you, my daughter. When we needed you, you stood tall for the

Lord.”

“Only by his strength.” She loosed a sigh. “I still cannot believe it came to this. But Jehovah knew it would. It is certainly a good thing you did not let me marry Zech.



“Zech?” The king halted in the doorway and spun around. “You were the one who . . . I offered to have myself killed for him?”

With a bright laugh, Kasia tugged him from the room.

Mordecai kissed the side of Esther’s head. “You will be remembered for this. Our people will sing songs in your honor for centuries to come. Your bravery preserved our

entire nation.”

Esther shook her head and moved toward the side door that he knew connected to the nursery. She would want to check on Amani after all this. “I do not care about being

remembered. Only that there will be a people left to do the remembering.”

He could think of only one thing to say to that. “Amen.”





Epilogue


The thirteenth day of the twelfth month of the twelfth year of the reign of Xerxes



Zechariah gripped his spear in one hand, his sword in the other. The straps of his shield encircled his forearm, and the breastplate hung sure and straight over his torso.

He planted his feet and waited for morning to spill over the horizon.

Bijan took position on his right. “Adam’s group is ready along the southern wall. The city is covered. If they dare come out, they will be slain.”

“They will come. Not many, but some. There have always been those who hate us.”

His friend snorted a laugh. “I have learned that for myself.”

“I know.” He glanced behind him to check his ranks. Hundreds of his friends and relatives stood in position, ready to fight for their lives, for their families. “If we

die today, Bijan, know you are my brother by more than marriage.”

“We will not die.” His words were easy, certain. “If Jehovah protected me against the Spartans, he will have no trouble with these lazy Persians. Besides—you promised

Ruana you would be there for the birth of your babe this time.”

His lips pulled up. She had not let him leave the house until he swore it, his hand upon her rounded abdomen. “And I am a man of my word. I trust you made similar promises

to Eglah.”

“Demanding woman.” Bijan grinned and looked out over the city. “I am proud to be one of you. Proud so many of my friends have decided to convert as well.”

“The truth makes itself known.” Zechariah turned his gaze toward the bowl of golden light rising above the bronze earth. Then a few degrees off, to the walls of the

palace. “They are watching. I feel their prayers.”

“As do I.”

The first arrow of sunlight crested the hill, and Zechariah raised his sword to send it on.

*