An entire year passed before another assassination was attempted. This time the results were disastrous

King Mogoto stood up on his feet for the first time in many years. His people gasped in shock at the incredible sight.

“Maybe sun is not so powerful. Teach me about this G-d you worship.”

“I can teach you, but I need you to end this fight. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

“Yes, this fight is over.”

“And I want you to stop all the fighting on the island. You are all acting like savages, even lower than the animals that live in these forests. If I’m going to teach you about Hashem, you need to start acting more civilized.”

“There will be no more fighting on the island.”

A roar of shock and indignation arose from the crowd. No more fighting? What would they do all day?

*****

Mordechai began to teach Mogoto about Hashem and the seven mitzvos all nations are commanded to keep. Mogoto was fascinated by the new information, but the other islanders were furious. They loved fighting and dancing wildly underneath the blazing afternoon sun. King Mogoto’s character change was dampening their fun.

A group of islanders began to secretly plan an assassination. Led by a vicious man named Akari, the group decided they would try to ambush Mogoto on his way to the beach, where he went each morning to relax.

One morning, King Mogoto was carried as usual by his designated carriers to the ocean. Mordechai was davening alone somewhere in the forest and did not join them.

“Why you listen to that white fool?” one of Mogoto’s men asked him as the king reclined at the water’s edge, watching the majestic ocean glistening in the morning sunlight. “We have worshipped our own way for a long time and we have been very happy. Our people love to fight. Now that this Jew is changing us, people are becoming very unhappy. Why do you persist in listening to this foreigner?”

“He speaks the truth,” Mogoto said simply.

At that moment, a war cry shattered the tranquil morning silence. Twenty men bearing long spears sprinted down the beach howling at the top of their lungs.

Mogoto’s men drew their weapons and met the attackers head on. Hopelessly outnumbered, they were swiftly killed and their bodies were tossed into the ocean. The assassins approached Mogoto and drew back their spears to slaughter him.

Just then, Mordechai came flying out of the air and rammed into the would-be murderer. As he bellowed for help from the other islanders, Mordechai tackled the closest fighters and fought them down, keeping them away from the king.

It didn’t take long for the other islanders to come running. After a vicious battle, the attackers lay dead and King Mogoto had nary a scratch.

After that day, Mordechai was treated royally. Although some of the islanders still harbored great anger toward Mogoto, they were too scared to attack him outright again. But the threat was not over.

An entire year passed before another assassination was attempted. This time the results were disastrous.

Mogoto had an obsession with tropical fruits of any kind. He would eat four baskets of shiny, ripe fruit every evening. One such evening, an assassin placed a handful of poisonous berries among the other fruit. Mogoto ate them and fell ill.

He suffered terribly for several days, becoming more ill as time passed.

“Mordechai, the time is coming for the great burial,” the king whispered to Mordechai one day. “On our island, when the king is about to die, he is taken on top of a great hill and put inside a cave. A boulder is rolled over the entrance and the king dies inside.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yes, but it is our way. But there’s something you should know… The king’s closest adviser is placed in the cave with him. You will be brought to the cave later today and we will die together, locked inside without any escape.”

“That’s utter madness! I refuse!”

“You have taught me a lot, my wise friend. But I cannot abandon my old ways completely. This ritual must be carried out.”

A group of islanders appeared and forcibly took Mordechai alongside the king to the burial cave. Mogoto and Mordechai were thrown inside of the cave and the islanders rolled a tremendous rock over the mouth of the cave, sealing the entrance permanently.

Mogoto languished in agony for the next two days and then died. Mordechai was left alone inside the cave, becoming weaker every moment from lack of food and drink. He knew he would not survive very long in these conditions.

“Please, Hashem. You’ve sheltered me this far. Don’t abandon me now! Help!”

Mordechai collapsed at the entrance of the cave, his tears forming into puddle on the ground.

Suddenly a stream of light filtered into the cave. Mordechai raised his head and beheld a miracle unfolding before his very eyes. A worm, the shamir worm that was used in the times of the Beis Hamikdash to cut through boulders, was crawling steadily across the rock that sealed the cave.

Mordechai cried out in thanks to Hashem, filled with incredible joy at the love that Hashem was revealing to him in such an open way. Eventually the worm cut out a hole big enough to allow Mordechai to escape. Then it disappeared from sight.

When Mordechai emerged from the cave he saw utter destruction everywhere he looked. While he was locked away, a civil war had broken out and not a single person was left alive.

“Thank you, Hashem!” Mordechai fell onto his knees, overwhelmed by the awesome wisdom and kindness of Hashem. Had he not been sealed inside the cave during this great battle, he surely would have perished like everyone else!

Mordechai built himself a small boat and set out into the ocean. He felt Hashem’s loving hand guiding him as a shipping vessel spotted him a few hours later and brought him aboard. He was taken to Eretz Yisrael where he immediately began to search for his wife, Esther.

He could not find her and was unsure if she had even managed to make it to Eretz Yisrael. He sat down to learn and in perhaps the greatest miracle yet, Hashem opened his mind and Mordechai finally was able to succeed in learning. After a few years he became a tremendous talmid chacham and began delivering shiurim.

At one of his shiurimm a certain woman listening in the ezras nashim recognized his voice. She approached him afterward to introduce herself.

It was, of course, Esther.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 770)