Equal of the Sun A Novel - By Anita Amirrezvani Page 0,67
to become my acting vizier?”
“It is the greatest honor of my life to accept,” I replied. My heart soared like that of a soldier prepared to die for his commander. “I pledge to always encircle the emerald of your trust with the gold of my loyalty.”
“That is better than any marriage vow I have ever heard!” she said, a hint of flirtation in her tone. “But I presume it is a metaphorical one.”
“Of course.”
“In that case, I accept.”
The princess’s eyes, which looked a little moist, sought mine. I felt as if we had made a pact binding us together forever.
Pari called Azar Khatoon and told her to fetch something. She returned with a package wrapped in silk and presented it to me. Inside I found a dagger in a black leather scabbard. Its fearsome steel blade bore protective words from the Qur’an worked in gold by a master metallist.
“May it keep you from harm,” Pari said, in a voice more tender than she had ever used with me before. Then and there I fastened the scabbard to my sash.
“I will wear it always.”
The next day, we discovered that Isma‘il had quietly married two women. One of them was an Ostajlu, which demonstrated that he had forgiven the whole tribe and welcomed its nobles, except those that he had executed or imprisoned, back into his closest circles. The other was a big surprise: Shamkhal Cherkes’s daughter Koudenet Cherkes, who had been raised away from court.
Pari was furious. She summoned her uncle, and he came after dark, like a thief. Pari told me to sit in a nook outside one of her private rooms and observe the meeting secretly, so that I could remember his exact words and discern whether he was telling the truth. I suspected she wished to tongue-lash her uncle, but would spare him the humiliation of doing so in front of a servant.
When Shamkhal entered the small room, he consumed so much of its space that his muscular arms and chest seemed to press against the walls.
“Salaam, daughter of my sister!” he said in a booming voice as he lowered himself onto the cushion across from hers. “I am glad to see you looking as bright as the dawn itself. What is the emergency?”
“Is your health better, dear Uncle?” Pari replied sweetly.
“Better?”
“You were sick, remember?”
He paused for a moment. “Ah, of course! I am healthy now.”
“That is good to hear. I assumed I didn’t see you for so long because you were ill. And now I hear that your daughter has become one of the Shah’s new wives! What an honor.”
Shamkhal was watching her closely. “It is.”
“I understand that the Shah has invited you to visit him every day, as well.”
“Who told you that?”
Pari smiled with the certainty of her information.
“In short, the Shah has seen fit to favor you, while he has decided to punish me. Why is that? Don’t we share the same blood?”
“We do.”
“Well, then?”
“It is fate, I suppose.”
“Uncle,” Pari said, her tone sharp, “a shah does not marry the daughter of a man, thereby tying his bloodline to that of royalty for all time, unless that man has provided a great service to him or has promised to do so.”
There was a long silence. Shamkhal looked terribly hot next to his glacial niece. In the small room I could see every bead of sweat that formed where his turban met his brow.
“Someone has damaged me in the eyes of the Shah. Having noticed your recent success, I can’t help but wonder if it has been responsible for my problems.”
Shamkhal burst out laughing. “Of course not. You have managed to create your problems all by yourself.”
“Such as?”
“Haven’t you learned that this shah won’t permit haughty behavior? You may be correct about the rebellion, but you have behaved like a fool.”
Pari looked stung, and I was secretly glad. Her uncle was able to talk to her in a way that I could not.
“How do you expect to win him over now?”
“I don’t know,” she said bitterly. “Right now, I want you to answer my question: What have you done for Isma‘il?”
“I took care of Haydar, remember?”
“Others helped vanquish him but were diminished anyway.”
“I do whatever he asks.”
Pari leaned her slender body toward his. “Have you spoken of me to him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Too dangerous.”
“All this time, you have been thinking only of your own success!”
“Of course not,” Shamkhal said, adjusting his legs underneath his robes. “Don’t forget that I represent thousands of Circassians. If I am honored at