Equal of the Sun A Novel - By Anita Amirrezvani Page 0,34
and muscular arms raised to fend off an attack, and uttered a battle cry so fierce it curdled my blood. When he realized it was only me, he dropped back into the water, displacing a good deal of it.
“Only an idiot would sneak up on me like that,” he growled.
When I reported the rumors to Pari, her face darkened with distress. “Why doesn’t Isma‘il hurry! I have written to him again about the need to claim his place, yet still he gallivants around the country. What makes him so restive?”
“Lieutenant of my life, you must vanquish the rumors,” I said. “Once they gather, men will suspect that no one is in charge and throw their support behind another.”
Pari sighed. “It would be unthinkable to lose the throne now, just when it is within our grasp.”
“Then we must convince the nobles that they have no choice.”
At the next meeting, Pari swore to the men that her brother was on his way to Qazveen with an army of twenty thousand soldiers. “‘Sister of my heart,’” she read out loud from a letter we had composed together the day before, “‘I grant you my authority to govern as you see fit until I return to take the throne. Do not brook any opposition from those who would try to derail my ascension, which has been ordained by God.’”
She paused a moment for effect. “If you don’t wish to believe me, you can explain yourself to our new shah and see what he makes of your disobedience.”
Her voice vibrated with authority, just as a great orator’s stirs his listeners to accept the justice of his arguments. I could feel its power surge through my heart, making me eager to fight for whatever she demanded. And it was not just me. I heard Ibrahim Mirza say to Mirza Shokhrollah in a low voice, “She has it—the royal farr. Do not cross her.”
Shamkhal and Majeed exchanged a glance of excitement and Majeed leapt up, his face glowing with triumph, to repeat what Ibrahim had said to another noble, and then he sped to the other side of the room to make sure the words traveled from man to man. I could not contain myself: I repeated Ibrahim’s words to the amirs nearest me. Their faces softened as they stared at the curtain and imagined the glory behind it.
“Mirza Shokhrollah, I need to hear from you.”
“It is understood,” Mirza Shokhrollah replied in a subdued tone.
“Good. I expect the full report on the treasury tomorrow even if it takes you all night to prepare it. As for the rest of you, soon you will see with your own eyes that Isma‘il’s candidacy is assured. So now I ask you, do you promise to make this country whole again by supporting Isma‘il? I want to hear an answer from every man.”
Isma‘il’s supporters responded right away: “Al-lah! Al-lah! Al-lah!” they chanted, sounding like loyal soldiers marching in step. Even the Ostajlu added their voices to our forceful affirmations.
By then, I had gone behind the curtain where Pari sat, and when she heard the men shout out, she jumped to her feet triumphantly as if she had just mobilized an army. Shamkhal arose and declared an end to the meeting. Mirza Salman and Majeed began conferring together, looking as surprised as if an untested polo player had scored a decisive goal. I, too, was awestruck: Pari had the royal farr, a radiance so irresistible that the men responded like sunflowers following the sun.
A few days later, Pari received a letter from Isma‘il giving her authority to govern the palace as she saw fit in his absence. He thanked her for her efforts and told her he could not wait to see her with his own eyes, “a woman of true Safavi blood, a sister-in-arms, and a fierce protector of our family and our crown.” A reward awaited her upon his return, which he was eager to bestow.
Pari read me the letter, her eyes bright with hope.
CHAPTER 3
MAN OF JUSTICE
After Zahhak became king, the devil installed himself as his cook and proceeded to teach him a taste for blood. On the first day he made roasted partridges, on the next lamb kabob, and on the third he stewed veal with wine. Zahhak was astonished and pleased, for man had never eaten meat before, and he plunged his tongue gladly into blood and bone. When Zahhak asked what he desired as a reward for his excellent cooking, the devil replied, “Just one favor,