course,” I replied.
By the time we arrived, the hall was already packed with men sitting cross-legged knee to knee. The heat from the bodies made the room seem suffocating, and the acrid smell of sweat hung in the air.
I couldn’t help but look at all of them with a new eye. If Looloo’s guess was right and my father’s murderer was alive, could he be here? I stared at men with long gray beards and creased foreheads as well as those in the prime of youth with thick black mustaches and smooth, sun-browned skin. Might I be looking at him?
Near the portable throne that marked the Shah’s place sat most of the qizilbash leaders, as well as the Circassians including Pari’s uncle Shamkhal, who looked uncommonly ruddy and well. Mirza Shokhrollah sat closest to where Isma‘il would emerge. The leaders of the Ostajlu, the Georgians, and the Kurds sat clumped together in disgrace behind all the others for having supported Haydar. Hossein Beyg Ostajlu looked as frightened as if it were the last day of his life.
Balamani and I claimed a cushion at the back of the chamber. Saleem Khan called the meeting to order in a more sober tone than usual. The Shah entered and sat in front of a mural that showed his grandfather mounted on a horse, thrusting his spear at a warrior who had tried to resist the establishment of his rule. The Shah was wearing a pale blue robe and olive green trousers, colors so complementary to those in the painting that it was as if he had stepped right out of the battle scene. His mouth was set in an angry grimace, and the pillows under his eyes made me suspect that he had not slept enough the night before.
“You may plead your case,” he said to Sadr al-din Khan.
“Oh glorious light of the age,” said he, “we the Ostajlu gave our lives with enthusiasm during the wars fought by your father and grandfather, supporting their reign in every way. We support yours, too. At some junctures, though, your servants take the wrong path. We are guilty of having rallied behind the wrong man, but please understand that it came from a desire to keep the Safavi throne intact. We beg your forgiveness and wish to perform any punishment you require to be reinstituted into your good graces.”
“You say this now,” he replied, “but this is not the tune you were singing a few weeks ago. Hossein Beyg, stand up.”
Hossein Beyg got to his feet and faced the Shah. I remembered how fierce he had looked when he led the men into battle, but now he appeared small inside his robe and trousers.
“By all accounts, you were the leader of the soldiers who stormed the palace. Is that true?”
“Yes, defender of our faith, it is true.”
“How dare you support my opponent?”
“O merciful Shah, I am not the only one. There were many who did not understand that your star was ascendant. If you arrest me, you might as well arrest most of your court.”
“That is true,” replied the Shah, “but you were the one who led the invasion and desecrated the sanctity of the women’s quarters. How can you expect such a violation to be forgiven?”
“O light of the universe,” said Hossein Beyg, with the ferocity of a man who knows he is fighting for his life, “it was a time of lawlessness and uncertainty. We acted with the intention of protecting the royal grounds, and we were not the only ones who did so. A large group of—”
“Choke yourself!” said the Shah. “A man can find no end of excuses for his actions on earth. Why should I believe that you would become loyal?”
“Clemency makes a man loyal,” Hossein Beyg replied in a quiet tone. “Kindness is answered with greater kindness.”
“Your words are empty; they don’t convince me,” said the Shah. “Why shouldn’t I execute you? You are a conniver and a plotter.”
Hossein Beyg bowed his head respectfully, speaking to the ground near the Shah. “Your own father was faced with insubordination many times. He showed mercy by imprisoning his enemies—even members of his own family whom he suspected of rebellion.”
Others would have fallen to their knees, cringing and begging. His bravery filled me with admiration.
“Don’t dare to compare yourself to me!” replied the Shah. “Nothing you have said mitigates what you have done. If you had been successful, I wouldn’t be here, and I see no reason to trust you. I therefore