All signs of a busy, productive empire. And yet on this morning, the empire made his smile dim. This morning, he would prefer to forget he was king for a few more hours.
“My lord.” His uncle appeared at his side, a telltale line in his forehead. Artabanus could out-worry any man in the kingdom—if Xerxes listened to his every concern, nothing would ever get done. The war was a perfect example—he had very nearly changed his mind about the campaign based on Artabanus’s advice. Had it not been for that startling vision they shared two years ago . . .
Even his uncle could not maintain his skepticism in the face of the god.
Xerxes greeted him with a smile. “What is it today, uncle?”
“Another stretch of canal has collapsed at Athos.”
Xerxes stifled a groan. This was not how he wanted to spend his day. He would rather dwell on thoughts of his sweet Kasia and her excitement at another night in his arms. “Naturally. A plan we adopted to avoid problems, and it causes more. I wonder if sailing around the mountain could prove any more a travail than bypassing it. Repairs?”
“They are reinforcing the walls, I believe, but the collapse killed a great many workers.”
Xerxes rested a knuckle against his lips and sighed. “Something must be done about these continual collapses. Has every group encountered it?”
“All but the Phoenicians.”
“An exception worthy of note.” Xerxes straightened and lifted a brow. “What are they doing differently than everyone else?”
Artabanus’s mouth flopped open for a moment. “Well . . . I recall hearing something about how ridiculously wide their excavations were at the start—twice as wide as the rest of the canal. There was some grumbling about it.”
Sometimes it felt as though the rest of the world were idiots. “Artabanus, there is a reason we put the Phoenicians and the Egyptians in charge of the bridge over the Hellespont. Their engineering acumen is unsurpassed. Has it occurred to no one that they made it wider to avoid these collapses?”
“I know not, my lord, I was only apprised of all this recently. But of course, you speak rightly. Should all adopt the model?”
“Where possible, unless it would take longer to widen it than to shore it up and finish. They must use discretion, if that is not asking too much.” Perhaps he ought to have put Phoenician overseers in charge of this entire project too. He had instead opted to maintain autonomy between the different nations working on the canal, but what he gained in peace he lost in quality.
“I will make your wishes known.”
“I trust you will. Mardonius!”
His cousin and oldest friend set his course for the throne. Artabanus stiffened but managed a polite greeting.
Mardonius offered him a taunting smile, then nodded with more sincerity to Xerxes. “The king is looking well this morning.”
Xerxes chuckled. “For once I believe your flattery. Have you seen Haman yet?”
His friend shook his head. “He is probably riding with your brother, master.”
“If you see them before I do, tell him to come to me at once.”
“Certainly.” With a courteous bow, Mardonius strode off.
Artabanus released a pent-up breath and muttered, “I maintain that such a wise king ought not surround himself with such injudicious advisers.”
His lips wanted to twitch up. “Uncle, need I remind you that the advice you consider his greatest offense is the war you now believe in?”
“If a man advocates a wise course for the wrong reasons, it makes him not wise, my lord. Only lucky. It is obvious from our visions that the god wishes you to lead us against Greece. That does not mean the evil one will not try to turn your certain victory into defeat through the bad advice of fools.”
“But even within the advice of fools is often hidden a pearl of wisdom. A wise man searches it out before dismissing the rest. And when a wise man has a wise uncle to help him discern those pearls . . .”
His uncle’s lips finally curved up. “Then blessings will follow, and soon enough you will rule all the world. You know my worries are only out of my devotion to you.”
“Indeed. Go, write your missive to Mount Athos. I will speak with Darius for a moment.”
“Ah, of course.” Artabanus turned and offered a warm smile to the young man hurrying toward them. “Good morning, my prince.”
Xerxes’ eldest son stopped a step before the throne and grinned. “The same to you, uncle. Father, you look well this morning.”
“So I am told.” He drew in a deep breath and, as Artabanus said his farewells and disappeared into the crowd, measured his son. He did it often these days. The law said he must name his successor before he went on campaign, and though Darius was the logical choice, he needed to be sure.
At eighteen, he possessed a man’s height. But his shoulders were just beginning to broaden; his strength was stored in muscles slight and wiry. His face was fine-featured with the beauty his mother was famous for, though thankfully he had avoided Amestris’s temperament.
It felt like a mere week ago Darius had been nipping at his heels like a pup. Could he possibly be old enough to rule half the world, to be the king of kings? And yet when Xerxes was his age, he had married Amestris, just become a father, and was even then plotting how to convince his own father to name him king instead of his older brother.
Not to mention that though Darius was too young, his other sons were younger still. The only answer for it was to live a good while longer and give this man-child more time to mature.
A determination made doubly pleasurable given the company he would have waiting in his chamber whenever he willed it. Kasia could keep a man young while he waited for his sons to age.
Darius grinned anew. “Rumor says your excellent mood this morning is due to the latest addition to the harem. Is it true you rushed this girl through the preparations in only a week?”
Xerxes returned his grin. Perhaps his son was more man than he gave him credit for. “I hardly have time to waste, considering how soon I shall leave to inspect the gathering armies.”
“Mother is in a snit about it.” Darius chuckled. “Not that that is unusual.”
Xerxes thanked the god again that his son shared his good humor. “You have seen her this morning? How is she feeling?”
“When I asked her that, she said ‘large.’ Which undoubtedly contributes to her snit. She droned on for a while about how she is ever expanding with another of your babes, and you are entertaining yourself with a wench young enough to be your daughter.”
Xerxes rolled his eyes. “I shall pay her a visit and assure her she is yet the most beautiful woman in all Persia.” If her vanity was not given its regular stroking, they would all pay for it.
“More beautiful than the new one then? She will be glad to hear it.”
“There is no face lovelier than my queen’s. But remember, my son, that there is more to a pleasing wife than her face.” He arched a brow. “I suppose it is time to find you a wife of your own. Has anyone caught your eye?”
An odd expression flitted over Darius’s face. “I . . . would rather wait until after the war. I have little desire to get attached to a woman only to leave her within a month or two.”
He doubted it was so simple but saw no reason to press. “When we return triumphant, then. Ah, there are your uncle and Haman.”
The two men drew near, looking merry. When they stopped beside