Equal of the Sun A Novel - By Anita Amirrezvani Page 0,52

a boy astonished everyone. Thank God above you have found your calling! But I am sure you are destined for even greater things.”

“Greater things?” he said, a question in his voice. “To me, God is great, and so are the gifts He gave to man. Those are all I need. I was never good at books. You did your best with me, though, and I am grateful for how hard you worked to shape this poor vessel into a better form.”

He smiled a big, boyish smile, and my heart lurched.

“A rose could not be cultivated unless it contained the heart of a rose.”

He accepted my compliment and reached into a saddlebag. “I brought something for you.”

Mahmood handed me a parcel, which I unwrapped slowly. It was a copy of the Shahnameh written in an exquisite hand, its margins decorated with gold leaf. Although I had studied the book and had memorized parts of it, I had never been able to afford my own copy to read whenever I wished.

“This is a small gift for all the years you worked with me,” he said. “After I left, I came to realize how much you had done. Without your determined training, I never would have been qualified to be a governor. You instilled an appreciation of learning in me, despite myself, and for this I shall love and respect you always.”

I could no longer speak. I knew it was presumptuous of me, but he was the closest I would ever come to having a son. I loved him.

“My esteemed prince!” I finally said, straining to keep my tears at bay, “how you fill your old master’s heart with joy. I am proud of you. May your way be blessed, may God put sweet fortune into your path, and may your burdens always be light.”

“Insh’Allah,” Mahmood replied, his eyes dancing. He stood up, and I noticed that he was dressed for riding.

“I have a long journey ahead of me, and I must go,” he said. “I will call on you the next time I come to Qazveen.”

He said his farewells and promised to return soon.

Massoud Ali came in to ask if I needed anything. He appeared to be in an uncommonly good mood.

“What makes you so happy, my little radish?”

“I have never seen you smile before!”

After sending Massoud Ali to bed, I decided to report to Pari’s quarters for duty since I was already awake. In one of her antechambers I found two old women waiting for the princess, unsupervised. How negligent all of Pari’s servants had become during the festivities! One of the women had a wrinkled face, with lines radiating away from her eyes and mouth, and her back was hunched. The other’s hair and eyebrows were frosted with gray. Both wore humble cotton robes, but there was an air of insolence about them.

“Who are you?” I challenged.

“We wish to see the princess,” said the hunched one in a gravelly voice. “Only she can redeem us.”

“We need money, a place to stay, something to eat, and her blessings. A little jewelry would be nice, too,” added her gray-haired companion.

Both women burst out laughing, and I realized I had been duped. The one with the gray locks was Pari.

“Princess, what a transformation!”

“It is all Maryam’s doing. She made the clothing and painted our faces and hair. Then we went to a gypsy encampment and watched the women dance. How pretty their voices are, how bright their robes!”

A gypsy encampment? If Isma‘il discovered they had slipped away, he would have their heads. But how had they gotten out of the palace? All the doors from the harem were heavily guarded.

“Next, I will make you a gypsy outfit with beads and coins,” Maryam promised, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

“If I like it, perhaps I will dance for you,” Pari teased back.

“Were you recognized?” I asked, thinking ahead to the need for an alibi.

“Not at all!” Pari was overcome with delight. “We even got close enough to look at the gypsies’ wares, and we bargained hard for a few necklaces.”

“If we hadn’t, they would have known something was wrong,” Maryam added.

“What a different life those gypsy women live; they are like birds compared to us,” Pari said.

Their cheeks were bright with color. I had never seen them so carefree and happy.

“Did the palace guards look the other way?” I asked incredulously, still trying to discover how they had escaped. Women were not allowed to leave the harem except under carefully defined circumstances. They could