Equal of the Sun A Novel - By Anita Amirrezvani Page 0,86
mimic Pari’s graceful gait.
“You walk like a man,” she complained. “Take tiny steps, not wide strides. Move like the shadow of a cloud.”
I pressed my legs together and minced my steps, the way I saw women do.
We walked briskly down a side street to the neighborhood where Shamkhal lived. Men leered at us and uttered coarse suggestions that made me feel strangely dirty. Was this what it was like to be a woman, always on display? I missed my usual comfortable anonymity.
Pari announced us to Shamkhal’s servants as his sisters, refusing to remove her face covering before being shown into her uncle’s presence.
Shamkhal was drinking his afternoon tea. He looked at the shapes in front of him with surprise, until Pari began speaking and it seemed that he recognized her voice. Then he told his servants to leave and stay away until he called for them. As soon as the door closed behind him, Pari lifted her picheh, and I threw off my wraps altogether.
“By God above!” Shamkhal said, his normally florid face whitening. “How did you get permission to leave the palace?” He rushed to the door to make sure that it was bolted tight, but even with the door firmly closed, his eyes darted around.
“Has someone smacked you in the head? Imagine how you would be punished if Isma‘il found out.”
“I had to come.”
“What risks you take!”
Pari sat down while I stood at the back of the room. “I am here because of the princes who have been killed,” she said in a strangled voice.
“I am deeply sorry.”
“I didn’t come for condolences. I came to ask when the men of the Safavi court are going to halt this slaughter.”
Shamkhal stepped back. “How can we do anything? The murders are by direct order of your brother, the light of the universe.”
“Uncle, please omit the palace formalities. The Shah has destroyed half of the dynasty. Are the nobles going to do anything about it?”
“What can we do?”
“Disordered shahs can justifiably be removed.”
“But this one isn’t insane, sick, or blind. We don’t have a valid reason.”
“Isn’t injustice a reason?”
“There is no injustice when it comes from the Shah!”
“That is palace garbage,” Pari said. “Don’t the nobles care about what is happening?”
“Of course they care. No one is happy about this state of affairs.”
“Have you asked the qizilbash nobles to help?”
“No, because they have been sent to kill the Sufis.”
“Why? They don’t deserve it.”
“I know.”
“Are the nobles men or not?”
His shoulders stiffened. “Isma‘il’s spies are everywhere. No one can breathe without him hearing the sound.”
“By God above! I am an unarmed woman begging for help, and no one will do the right thing?”
“What is the right thing?”
“When a leader at other courts has been found to be of unsound mind, their nobles ask his eldest female relatives for permission to unseat him. If permission is given, they remove him. I suppose their men are braver than ours.”
He looked as uncomfortable as if she had held a hot poker near his eyes. “I wish I could help.”
“Aren’t you and the other men afraid that he won’t stop at killing his own flesh and blood?”
“Of course. Every man is hoping that by showing fealty, he will remain unscathed. Any sign of disloyalty is so rapidly punished that we don’t even dare to think disloyal thoughts.”
“My father was right to imprison him,” she said. “I wish I had taken heed. He understood things about Isma‘il that none of us knew.”
“True.”
“Can you at least protect Sultanam’s grandchildren?”
“Not if the Shah wishes them dead.”
“Shamkhal! What has become of you?”
“I survive as well as I can. That is all a man can do under these circumstances.”
“It is an ugly way to live.”
His broad face seemed to swell with anger. “You think so? It is much less ugly than other possibilities.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning at least I advise Isma‘il on a daily basis, arguing for clemency and mercy. I attempt to influence his decisions by pointing out examples of goodness. What do you do?”
“He hasn’t given me a chance to do anything.”
“My point exactly. You treated him with disdain. You defied his orders. You didn’t take the time to become a trusted servant. As a result, you have had no influence at all.”
Pari’s face flushed dark. “I deserved better.”
“Why?”
“Because of all I know. Because of who my father was. Because I am better at governing than he is.”
“All of that is true, but it doesn’t help us now. I begged you to bow before him and show your humility. But you