Equal of the Sun A Novel - By Anita Amirrezvani Page 0,149

know that well. You will shine always, even after I am gone.”

I was taken aback. Her bright eyes, smooth olive skin, and gleaming black hair made her look immortal, yet her words sent a shiver through me.

“If that is so,” I said, with the expected reversal of flattery, “it is only because I reflect the sparkle of the greater jewel that I serve. But, Princess, your words worry me.”

“Don’t trouble yourself. I am prepared for whatever lies ahead. The only judge of me, flaws and all, is almighty God.”

“Is there any human who isn’t flawed?” I asked, and Pari gave me a wry smile.

The ride to Fereshteh’s house took much of the morning. The roads were frozen, and Asal was skittish. I tried to strategize about the future, but I had to coax along the horse, and my enthusiasm was dampened by the weather and by feelings of gloom. Wet, sticky flakes of snow blanketed the fields and my outer robe. By the time I rode into Qazveen, even the street vendors had deserted their usual posts.

I handed Asal to Fereshteh’s manservant, who promised to have the horse fed and groomed at the royal stables. Fereshteh’s house was pleasantly warm. She wore a green robe that reminded me of a field of grass, and the pale tunic underneath was as softly lit as the bellies of clouds at sunset. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face.

“Come in, Javaher. I see from your wet clothes that you have had a cold, hard ride. Would you like refreshment?”

“Yes, please.”

I removed my boots while Fereshteh called to her servant to bring sour cherry sharbat and tea. I remained standing, eager to hear her news.

“Mirza Salman visited my friend in Qom the day before yesterday,” she said. “The news is so dreadful I had to tell you in person, to avoid any possibility of being betrayed.”

Dread coursed through me. “What happened?”

“Mirza Salman was preening like a peacock. He told my friend that although the royals think they’re superior, they can be brought down as easily as anyone else.”

“Okh, okh!” I said, my stomach burning.

“My friend plied him with bang, and when he had nearly lost his senses, she coaxed the details out of him. He told her that he had visited Mohammad and his wife, asking if they wished to be made aware of the happenings at court. Then, under the guise of being an honest servant, he argued that the person they should fear the most was Pari Khan Khanoom. He terrified them by hinting that she had been responsible for Isma‘il’s death, despite the safeguards over his person, and suggested that if left unchecked, she might put an end to them as well.”

“What a traitor! I presume they will retain him as grand vizier?”

“That is correct.”

“Shamkhal Cherkes was right about him after all.”

To my surprise, Fereshteh winced as if in pain, and her hands clenched at her sides. “Javaher, I have more news, and it is even worse.”

I braced myself. “Mirza Salman told my friend that Shamkhal has been executed at the request of the Shah.”

By God above! It was as if the stars in the sky had been extinguished all at once, except for the star I cared about the most.

I strode to the door and shoved my feet into my riding boots. “Thank you, Fereshteh, for everything. The princess asked me to express her gratitude as well.”

“May God keep you and your commander safe,” she replied.

I rushed to the royal stables to get a fresh horse and rode it through the Tehran Gate in the direction of the camp. As soon as I left the city, I spurred my horse faster and faster until we were both heaving with effort. What would we do now? Shamkhal was dead. How would Pari bear it?

Looking back on Mirza Salman’s actions at court, his tendency toward treachery seemed evident. He had taken two men down in order to advance himself; then he had done the same to us. I cursed myself for not understanding him sooner.

When I approached the camp, I thought I must have lost my way. Only a few tent stakes remained in the sky, like a body reduced to bones. Large trunks had been packed, awaiting the donkeys that would haul them. An errand boy told me the astrologers’ readings that morning had been so favorable that Mohammad had thought it foolish to delay. He and his wife and Pari had ridden back to town on a road