the Safavi dynasty its first inspiration, followed by the great deeds of his grandfather Isma‘il, who declared Shi’ism the official religion of Iran; his father Tahmasb’s long reign; and his own valor on the battlefield. A crown the length of a man’s arm was offered to Isma‘il on an engraved silver tray. The crown was decorated with small pearls and beads of pure gold, and at its peak gleamed a ruby the size of my fist surrounded by diamonds. Isma‘il removed his white turban, revealing wisps of thin black hair. He lifted the crown and placed it firmly upon his balding head. No one could crown an adult shah except for himself, since no one overmastered him but God.
Saleem Khan spoke to the assembly. “I call upon all of you to take the oath of loyalty to Isma‘il II, our new shah. Today you swear to follow his commands, to protect him at all costs, and to offer your lives for his. Remember, your oath is a legal contract; the penalty for breaking it is death.”
Our voices raised such a thunder that I am certain it was heard in heaven. At last, after months of waiting, we had a new leader! The orderly palace I remembered under the late shah would finally return, and peace and prosperity would be our everyday fare.
Isma‘il’s favorite companion, Hassan Beyg Halvachi Oghli, knelt down to pull off the Shah’s dusty riding boots and replaced them with pristine gray silk slippers. Hassan Beyg had voluntarily endured five years of confinement with Isma‘il at Qahqaheh, earning his master’s trust. Anwar described him as a trained monkey; now that monkey would sleep under bedcovers embroidered with gold.
Saleem Khan called Sultanam’s eldest son, Mohammad Khodabandeh, to approach the Shah. Mohammad walked toward him slowly because of his poor vision, led by his handsome eldest son, sixteen-year-old Sultan Hassan Mirza. As the elder brother, Mohammad might have wished to compete for the throne, but his near blindness made him ineligible. I had heard that he had no such desires and not enough force inside him to master other men. Rather than governing, he preferred to spend his time listening to poetry. He bent low, reaching out his hands tentatively in search of his brother’s feet. When he finally found them, he kissed their insoles and congratulated his brother with dignity.
Next came the late Shah’s sons born of other wives, consorts, or slaves: among them was the feckless Suleyman Mirza, Pari’s brother, whose clay had not received the blessings that had gone to her. He lumbered to the throne. Mahmood, by contrast, although still young, strode confidently toward the Shah, his bearing erect from his lessons in swordsmanship and horse riding. I felt a surge of pride. He kissed the Shah’s feet in a good-natured but not servile fashion.
After all of Isma‘il’s brothers had come forward and kissed his feet, they were followed by their uncle Bahram’s sons and then their children. All the highest-ranking members of the clergy, dressed in their black robes, came forward next; the Shah would be their spiritual guide. Then followed the Mowsellu nobles of Sultanam’s family, their red batons fiercely erect in their turbans even as they bent down for the kiss. Other qizilbash were honored, too: the Rumlu, the Shamlu, the Qajar, and the Afshar, followed by the Georgians, the Kurds, and the Circassians. As Shamkhal bent to perform the kiss, Isma‘il flattered him with a smile.
Then salutations were read by ambassadors from Murad III of the Ottomans, Akbar the Great of the Mughals, Zhu Yijun of the Ming, and Abdullah Khan of the Uzbeks, the most exalted and powerful rulers on earth, as well as a few from those who ruled the Christian kingdoms to the west, Philip II of Spain and Elizabeth I of England, who were currently sparring with one another over faith. Each of the great empires had sent delegations with hundreds of emissaries and dozens of animals laden with precious gifts. The richest offerings were presented for all to see, including a beautiful copy of the Qur’an by the finest calligraphers of the Ottoman court, huge blue porcelain vases from the Chinese emperor, and ewers made of gold from the Uzbeks. A hush fell on the crowd when a mahout sent with the Mughal delegation paraded an elephant before us. I had never seen such a creature before, nor such costly trappings. The animal wore a jeweled cap on its intelligent brow, and its tusks were wrapped in