Equal of the Sun (48 page)

The men heeded me in a way they had never done before, my changed status reflected in their very posture. When they were so still that we could hear the footsteps of someone walking through the square, the princess began to speak from behind the curtain in a low, melodious voice.

“My good noblemen,” she said, “welcome. Once again in little more than a year, we face the necessity of keeping the country intact until our new shah arrives to claim his throne. My goal is to deliver to him a functioning government and a capital city where law prevails. All of you will be asked to assist me in avoiding the problems we had last time.”

“It is our duty, princess,” Mirza Salman replied, speaking for the men.

“Our shah-to-be will arrive soon. First he will travel to Qom to pay his respects to his mother and to thank God for the safety of his sons, except for the much-lamented Sultan Hassan Mirza. Then he will enter the palace according to his astrologers’ recommendations for an auspicious arrival. If everything is to be ready, we have much work ahead of us.”

“Mark well the words of royalty,” said Shamkhal Cherkes proudly, even though Mirza Salman now outranked him and should have been the one to speak.

“Anwar Agha will be in charge of organizing the coronation ceremonies within the palace,” Pari continued. “He and I will be consulting daily, and he will inform you of your responsibilities in this matter.”

“When shall we go to Qom to pay our respects to our new shah?” asked Mirza Salman.

“Not until the palace is completely in order,” Pari replied. “No
one has permission to leave his post unless it is given directly by me. Is that understood by everyone?”

“We shall obey,” the men replied.

“Good. That said, let me remind you that the principal duty of a leader is to provide justice. Remember Nizam al-Mulk’s story of the poor widow and Anushirvan the just? One of Anushirvan’s nobles expropriated the land of the widow because he wanted to expand his estate. After the woman complained to Anushirvan and he verified her story, the nobleman was skinned and stuffed. All of his property was bequeathed to the woman, but even more important, Anushirvan’s subjects learned he would be uncompromising about enforcing justice. That is the kind of court we will aspire to in the future.”

The noblemen looked at each other, wondering, it seemed, what exactly Pari was going to hold them responsible for. But then she added sugar to the stew.

“Accordingly, my first act as the new shah’s representative will be to restore justice. Many noblemen have been sent to the palace prison because they fell out of favor. I hereby order that those men be released to their families.”

A great shout of approval burst out from the men. “May God be praised!” said Khalil Khan.

“Are you including those who supported Haydar?” asked Pir Mohammad Khan.

“I am. Sadr al-din Khan Ostajlu will be one of the first to be set free.”

“May God rain his blessings on you!” he replied. “How sweet is this day.”

“Before celebrating, I need to hear from all of you about the problems in the realm. Mirza Salman, you may speak first.”

He cleared his throat. “Many provincial governorships still remain empty, threatening our stability. They include the posts vacated by the tragic demise of the princes.”

“The delays have been inexcusable,” Pari replied. “You and your men may develop a list of recommendations in consultation with me. I will present the list to the new shah and urge a quick decision, especially where our borders are most vulnerable.”

“Chashm,” said Mirza Salman.

I could already see some of the men looking hopeful; they would be sure to petition her for their sons and retainers to be granted those posts. For Pari, it would be an excellent opportunity to put her own men in powerful positions, men who would then owe allegiance to her.

Morshad Khan, the noble in charge of the palace guard, asked to be recognized next.

“I am concerned about the treasury. Isma‘il’s men are still on guard, but with a change of shah at hand, they may not be trustworthy. In addition, if our enemies hear the news and suspect we’re vulnerable, they could attack.”

The treasury was located in a low, fortified building near Forty Columns Hall. It was hidden behind thick walls and guarded by soldiers. Very few people were permitted to enter, and every entry was recorded in a book.

Pari’s answer was immediate. “Shamkhal Cherkes, organize a retinue of Circassian guards and make sure they don’t stint in their duty to protect the treasury day and night.”

“Chashm,” he replied, smiling broadly now that he had been honored with such an important task.

“Princess, wouldn’t it be better if the guard consisted of several groups, including the qizilbash?” Mirza Salman asked.

“Don’t you trust us?” Shamkhal shot back.

“That is not the point. A mixed group will require everyone to take responsibility for protecting the country’s wealth.”

“Answer my question!” commanded Shamkhal.

“It is not a real question,” said Mirza Salman, holding his ground. “Moreover, it seems to me it would be easy to prove which one of us is the most loyal.”

“Are you threatening me?” Shamkhal’s eyes bulged with his overeagerness to do something.

“I am merely stating a fact.”

Two weeks before they had barely been speaking to Pari, and now they were ready to come to blows to prove themselves!

“Stop this unseemly sparring,” Pari commanded from behind
the curtain. “Mirza Salman has a point. I will ask the Takkalu to join the Circassians in guarding the treasury.”

The Takkalu had become her allies, ever since the Ostajlu had returned to Isma‘il’s favor.

“That would be the only fair thing to do,” said Mirza Salman.

Shamkhal looked enraged; he had lost almost every battle so far. Mirza Salman smiled at him, taunting him. All of a sudden, I remembered how hard Mirza Salman had worked to take Mirza Shokhrollah down. It had started just like this, with a sneer at a meeting.

“The princess has closed discussion on this issue,” I told the assembly in a firm voice. “We will proceed to the next topic.”

“What about our revenues? Are we receiving the monies owed from the provinces?” Pari asked.

“We have a shortfall from the southwest,” replied the eunuch Farhad Agha, whom Isma‘il had put in charge of treasury revenues.

“Why?”

Khalil Khan asked to be recognized. He had a formidable nose and was known for playing backgammon with masterly deception. He would appear to lose for a long time into the game, then score point after point until his enemy was crushed.

“There has been an earthquake in my province, and many harvesters have been killed. We need time to recover.”

“It is granted,” Pari replied, “but I will expect a thorough report on the status of the harvest in the next month.”

Hameed Khan, a young nobleman, asked to be recognized next. “I wish to report a success. After Badi al-Zaman died in Sistan, we endured a full-scale rebellion in my province, but the conspirators have been unmasked and vanquished, and now our border is safe and strong. I thank the esteemed princess for understanding the severity of the danger we faced before anyone else did.”

“That is what a leader is for,” Pari replied.

“We honor you for it. You have been a lion where others might quake.”

“After this meeting, everyone should contact their retainers and ask if there are any threats of revolt or invasion in their provinces.
Report to me as soon as you receive an answer. Don’t forget that our enemies will soon learn about the Shah’s death and will be eager to take advantage.”

“Chashm,” the men replied.

“I continue to be concerned about affairs in Van. Rumors abound that the Ottoman governor there, Khosro Pasha, is poised to attack us. Ali Khan Shamlu, I want you to lead an army to Khui to show our strength and discourage his plans. Nothing is more important than preserving my father’s hard-won peace with the Ottomans.”

“Al-lah! Al-lah! Al-lah!” chanted the men, and Ali Khan looked pleased that he would finally get to carry out the mission that Pari had assigned before Isma‘il had stopped him.

“Are there any other concerns?”

Khalil Khan stood up. “There have been rumors of irregularities at the palace,” he said, wagging his finger at the curtain. There was a long, uncomfortable silence.

“State your business,” I demanded.

“Some have gone so far as to claim that the Shah was murdered,” he charged.

Since Khalil had been Pari’s guardian long ago, which usually resulted in a lifelong bond, I wondered why he had decided to challenge her so publicly.

“The physician’s report was inconclusive,” I reminded him.

“It is my duty to let the princess know about rumors that a murder plot was hatched in the harem.”

I stiffened and frowned at him.

“That is preposterous,” said Shamkhal, leaping to his feet. “What are you implying?”

From behind her curtain, Pari said, “Curious rumors are always circulating among you men about the royal harem. You seem to imagine it as an opium den full of connivers, but it is more like an army regiment organized by rank and task. How could you know what goes on in the harem? Have you ever been inside?”

“Of course not,” said Khalil Khan.

“Then I think you are best off leaving such concerns to me.”

The men laughed, and Khalil Khan’s face reddened. “Now wait a
minute. If Isma‘il Shah was murdered, what is to prevent the same thing from happening to the next one? We would all be fools not to fear a murderer on the loose.”

Some of the men actually looked disquieted. Amir Khan’s mouth pulled down into a frown. God be praised, they were afraid of her!

“It is difficult to imagine things will worsen, after all that has happened in recent months,” Pari replied. “Still, I give you my word that as long as you obey orders, I will stand by you. As you know, I never abandoned you. Even when I was forbidden to participate in palace affairs, I argued for clemency for the condemned at great cost to myself.”

“She speaks the truth,” said Shamkhal.

“In exchange, I ask for your loyalty now as I assume my new role as Mohammad Khodabandeh’s chief advisor. Men, what is your verdict?”

“Make all your voices heard,” I instructed the nobles.

“Hail to the best graybeard a country could have!” shouted Pir Mohammad Khan, whose enthusiasm no doubt reflected the news about his imprisoned relative.

“Al-lah! Al-lah!” yelled Shamkhal, starting up the chant.

The rest of the men joined in the roar. “Al-lah! Al-lah! Al-lah!”

The sound echoed the joyous pumping of my heart. I rushed behind the curtain to find Pari already on her feet. She looked, all of a sudden, exactly like her father, tall and slender in a saffron robe. She was neither smiling nor cowed, but completely at ease with being in charge. Though the men would never admit it, her bravery had tamed them. It seemed to me that the royal farr had penetrated her so completely that it illuminated her from within. Some would say it was in her blood, but I knew she had earned every glimmer of it, and my heart swelled with pride.

Organizing the upcoming coronation occupied everyone for the next few days, including the lowliest errand boy. The noblemen arrived to
receive their orders early in the morning, eager to show their loyalty. Everyone took a long rest in the afternoon. After breaking the fast at night, Pari and I continued working on the essential tasks of running the palace. Then she and I often consulted until shortly before dawn, when we would take a break to eat another meal. Pari was finally being permitted to do the work she had trained for at her father’s side, and she glowed with satisfaction. Even her mother remarked that she seemed as radiant as a new bride, and she no longer bothered her about getting married.

As for me, I had become a man of significance. When the nobles assembled in her waiting room, they arrived early to get my ear. They told me their problems, begging for my intercession. I did what I could to help those who seemed honest and who could aid the princess.

On the last day of Ramazan, the Day of Feasting, we were all in the mood for a grand celebration. Excessive indulgence was forbidden because the Shah had died so recently, but Pari prepared a respectful celebration for her ladies and her eunuchs to mark the end of the fasting month. A woman schooled in religion recited to us, reminding us that the Qur’an was revealed to the Prophet Mohammad, peace be upon him, during Ramazan. I prayed fiercely, asking for forgiveness for my recent deeds and hoping they would be judged justified in the eyes of God.

Right after the new moon was sighted, we were served a festive meal beyond our imaginings. There were haunches of roast lamb, long skewers of kabob, rice studded with herbs, beans, or dried fruits, and countless stews. I started with one of my favorite dishes of lamb stewed with parsley, fenugreek, coriander, and green onion, flavored with the small tart lemons that gave the dish its special bite. I ate it with a cooling serving of yogurt mixed with cucumber and mint, enjoying the way the flavors married each other on my tongue. The errand boys, who were especially attentive to me now that I was Pari’s closest confidant, came by repeatedly offering me drinks and hot bread, and to satisfy them, I accepted their offerings. Massoud Ali sat with me for a few moments until the lure of games called him into Pari’s courtyard, where the other boys were lighting fireworks
and shouting with excitement. I went outside and watched the children play for a while.