Star of Persia

Chapter 2

Mordecai outruns me to our small window as we race to investigate the terrible noises coming from outside. There is wailing, screeching and the sound of hardened soldiers yelling orders. A feminine shriek pierces my ears as my cousin's face turns white, staring slack mouthed at the scene outside the house.

"What is happening?" My confused, uncertain voice whispers as I try to squeeze past Mordecai to see for myself what is causing the chaos.

Warm hands grip me suddenly as Mordecai whirls and pulls me away from the gap in the wall.

"Quickly," he tells me urgently, "you must hide."

"What? Hide?" I protest as he drags me roughly into his personal sleeping quarters and peers around desperately. The room is simple, with a bed, storage baskets and stacks of scrolls and business items. In the corner sits a large basket that I weaved for my cousin a few years ago to store his fine robes and business attire. I was proud of my work, and Mordecai had fondly bragged to all his friends about my weaving skills.

Now, he lets me go and without hesitation opens the lidded basket and unceremoniously dumps the contents onto his bed. He places the basket back in the corner and looks me straight in the eyes.

"Get in."

"What? Mordecai, no I—" my objection is quickly cut off.

"Now, Hadassah," my cousin says in a deep, pressing voice.

For a time I am too stunned to move. He never calls me by my given name, never. Ever since I came under his care, he has only called me Hadassah a handful of times, each when something serious was about to occur.

Wordlessly, I climb into the basket with his help. I stare up at him with round, perplexed eyes, and he seems to soften.

"If they see you," Mordecai speaks quietly, "they will take you."

"Who?" I ask breathlessly.

He reaches out to cup my cheek and tenderly rubs his thumb against the top of my nose. Love is in his emotional gaze, love and dread.

"The soldiers, my Hadassah. It is as I feared. The king has ordered all the beautiful maidens to be taken to the palace. Those taken will not return."

Again, I am speechless, but it only lasts a moment. My next words come quickly as my heart pounds in my chest.

"I don't want to go. I want to stay here."

"I know," Mordecai nods, almost as if to himself. "I don't want them to take you either."

There is a loud bang at the door, and I jump in surprise.

"Open the door!" Comes a sharp, masculine cry, "we have orders to secure the young woman on the premises!"

Mordecai tenses up, and then his eyes fill with determination.

"Hide here, I will try to distract them," he informs me soberly, resolve building in his deep baritone. He hesitates before adding, "If... if they find you, you must not let them know who you are. You are only Esther now, a woman of Persia. It's safer that way."

"Cousin—"

"Promise me, Esther."

I shudder, hating the words as I whisper, "I promise."

Mordecai seems satisfied with my response and gently lowers the lid onto the basket, throwing a loose robe over the top.

"Open this door, or we will break it down!" Comes another shout of a soldier as they thud their fists heavily against the wooden frame.