Equal of the Sun A Novel - By Anita Amirrezvani Page 0,114

prudent to bide our time until our sleuthing revealed an ideal time to strike.

While we were engaged in this dangerous business, it would have been folly to bring my sister to court. I took Balamani aside and gave him a sealed letter with my final instructions. If anything happened to me, he was to use all my means—including my precious dagger and my Shahnameh—as a dowry for my sister and make certain that she was settled in a good family in Qazveen. I did not trust my mother’s cousin to treat her well in the event of my death.

Six months passed, and life returned to its accustomed patterns. The snows gave way to spring, the New Year, and a hot summer. We commemorated Moharram and the martyrdom of the Imam Hossein with ceremonies recalling his immense suffering on the battlefield, and we thought about all the other injustices that we had yet to tackle.

Gradually, the palace hierarchy began to shift in our favor. Shamkhal Cherkes won a few high postings and land concessions for the Circassians. Mirza Salman managed to get himself appointed grand vizier, through a relentless campaign of sabotaging the reputation of Mirza Shokhrollah, who was ultimately dismissed in disgrace. We hoped that Mirza Salman’s appointment as second in command meant that Pari could be rehabilitated one day, even though he must now keep his distance from her.

Ramazan arrived that year in the second month of autumn. For weeks in advance, preparations were made at the palace for the fact that day was about to become night, and night day. Tradesmen brought in plenty of oil, since lamps would burn all night while we were awake, as well as all the necessary supplies of food that did not need to be fresh—rice, beans, dried fruit and vegetables, spices, and the like.

On the eve of Ramazan, I stayed up late with Balamani, a few of the other eunuchs, and Massoud Ali. We took a walk near the mountains and sat in the open country, wrapped in wool blankets, to drink hot tea that we made over a charcoal brazier. I watched the night light up with stars and imagined that I saw Khadijeh’s eyes there. When the night grew late, Balamani suggested we recite some poems. The flasks of wine and much stronger aragh came out and all of us grew emotional as the night wore on and we recited the lines that were dearest to our hearts.

I stood up and addressed the moon, calling her beautiful, but in my heart I was speaking of Khadijeh. The poem I declaimed was about a lover whose love had gone to another, leaving the flower of his soul withered forever.

Then I recited a poem about a young man lost in battle, while thinking of Mahmood. The other men shouted, “Bah, bah!” when I recited an especially beautiful line, and I wiped dampness from my eyes. It was safe to weep together over the beauty of the lines of poetry, even though all of us were no doubt thinking of our own losses.

Massoud Ali, who had stayed by my side all evening, begged to practice a few submission holds he had been learning in his one-on-one combat class. Gleefully, he wrapped one arm in front of my neck and one arm behind it, locking me in a deadly embrace. I praised him and showed him a few tricks to increase his power.

Even though it was very late, he asked me to finish telling him the story of Zahhak and Kaveh. I sat up on a cushion and began where I had last left off. When I reached the part about how Fereydoon struck down Zahhak with his great mace, I emphasized the role of the hero’s great strength. Massoud Ali’s eyes lit up with joy.

“How can I be just like Fereydoon?” he asked. Before I could answer, he yawned, curled up against me, and sank into a deep sleep. From the lively, changing expressions on his face, I had no doubt that he was playing the role of Fereydoon in his dreams.

All of us ate a large meal before dawn, returned to the palace, and performed our morning duties. Then we returned to our quarters to rest. When I awoke in the afternoon, Balamani was still asleep on his bedroll, a pillow cradled in his arms. During the month of Ramazan, many of our official duties took place after the cannon boomed and lasted well into the night. There was no need