It came to pass in the second year of the reign of Xerxes - who ruled from Hindush to Kusha - that I was orphaned. My father was trampled in the street during the first revolt of Babylon. My mother followed him an hour later, reaching the end of her days in childbirth. I heard her cries grow weak and shallow, after the midwife sent me from the room. When she died, I was not allowed to see her or the stillborn baby But I saw them in my dreams. The creature had the head of a man and the body of a lion. Its claws tore through my mother's womb and her blood ran like a river.
I was in my tenth year.
My only surviving kin was Mordechai son of Yair, my father's brother. Mordechai lived in the capital city of Susa, on the east bank of the River Sha'ur, a journey of five days from Babylon. He had served as a minor treasury official during the years Xerxes spent as the viceroy of Babylon. When King Darius died and Xerxes inherited the turban of the kingdom, my cousin was among those who followed the new king out of Babylon to Susa. He left his home, seeking to do good for his king and his kin.
Mordechai soon rose to a position of honor in the court of King Xerxes, holding the second place under the minister of the treasury. From dawn to dusk, he sat at the king's gatehouse, receiving men from throughout the empire, dignitaries and common people who came to the palace bearing gifts of gold and silver coin for the royal treasury. He also held responsibility for checking the revenues of the tax collectors, to ensure that none stole what belonged to the king.
Mordechai's absence from Babylon saddened his family, but we spoke with pride of his loyalty to the king and his success. The Jews of Babylon knew him to be a good son who honored his parents. He enriched them with gifts of coin and cloth, and after the death of his father provided for his mother's needs.
We held Mordechai in great esteem for his accomplishments and his generosity, but we knew little of his life in Susa. We did not know that he went by the name of Marduka the Babylonian. Or that his fine house in the fortress stood apart from the homes of all the other Jews, who lived in the town below the acropolis. We never imagined that he employed a Babylonian housekeeper who was not a Jew and did not keep the dietary laws.
I am glad that my father never knew how Mordechai hid himself among the Zoroastrians, who worship Ahura Mazda, and the Babylonians, who worship Marduk. He would have grieved as if for a lost son.
Yet Mordechai's efforts to gain advancement were not uncommon. Many Jews of Babylon had chosen to turn away from their heritage, forgetting that King Nebuchadnezzar had exiled their grandparents from Jerusalem. They dwelt in Babylon as if it were their ancestral home and concerned themselves only with building lives of wealth and prosperity. Some of these men even took Babylonian wives, who taught their children to pray to Marduk and Ishtar.
A smaller group, my father among them, lived for the hour they might return to Jerusalem. These Jews prayed three times each day for the rebuilding of the Temple. They observed the laws of Moses with utmost strictness and set themselves apart from their Babylonian neighbors in worship, speech, and dietary habits. They scorned Jews who adopted Babylonian ways and kept watch on each other like spies. When someone committed a violation, it was reported in the prayer tent. Three judges determined the punishments. A minor infraction, such as missing a prayer service without cause, might require a fine to be paid as charity to the poor. But some infractions were so grievous that the sinner would be banished from the tent forever. These included murder, adultery, one man lying with another, and violation of the laws of Sabbath rest.
My father was revered as a pious scholar among these devout men. His brother Yair was neither as learned nor as observant. But he followed the dietary laws and prayed each morning in the tent of the Jews by the market square. And my father considered Yair's household suitable for his daughter.
I was still an infant when Mordechai came into his full beard. But our parents wanted to preserve and strengthen the family by uniting their children in marriage. Mordechai agreed to the match and so we were betrothed. I, Hadassah daughter of Avihail son of Shemei, was two years old. Mordechai son of Yair son of Shemei, was twenty.
Mordechai left for Susa six years later, promising to return when I came of age. But the subject of our marriage was never far from the lips of my mother and aunt. They sat together in the afternoon, weaving plain towels on their hand looms and imagining the fine linen robe I would wear to my wedding, embroidered with azure rosettes and silver beads. They argued over whose bridal veil I should use - my mother's, crimson wool fringed with gold coins, or my aunt's, saffron wool with silver coins - until at last they agreed I should have my own. They spoke of the delicacies that would be served at the celebration - almond honey cakes and rosewater syrup - and the music that would herald my arrival to my new home. Sometimes they spent an hour or two imagining all the gifts guests would bring - the hens and the cooking pots, a heavy wool blanket for the cold nights, a fine wooden loom.
And so my young heart learned to look forward to the day of my marriage with joyous anticipation.