Equal of the Sun (38 page)

“Who taught you how to make such things?”

Amin Khan’s bushy eyebrows lowered in self-defense. “If you are hired to be the shah’s physician, you must know how to make everything,” he answered.

I peered at the liquid in the pot. It was cooling and reducing in size. Small islands of white powder formed on its surface. I had never seen such alchemy before.

“What is in the pot? It looks wicked.”

He smiled. “It is. In a few hours, it will turn into a fine face powder. Ladies ensnare men with it as easily as if they were the devil himself.”

Pari was getting thinner and thinner: Her drawn face made her cheeks look even more sculpted than usual, and her robes seemed to hang off her body. I knew she was worried about her brother Mohammad Khodabandeh’s safety and that of his four children, in the absence of any guarantee from Isma‘il Shah. Whenever a messenger rushed into her quarters, her eyes widened with alarm.

I offered to visit Mirza Salman and ask if he had any information about Isma‘il’s plans. So far, Mirza Salman had been my best source of information about my father. I grabbed at any excuse to see him again.

Mirza Salman’s waiting room was crowded, but I was shown in quickly.

“The princess fears for the safety of Mohammad Khodabandeh’s family,” I told him. “She wonders if you think the killings are done.”

Mirza Salman frowned. “Isma‘il must be careful not to offend Sultanam. People will become angry if they think he has wronged
her excessively. Recently, though, he made some comments that were very disheartening.”

“What were they?”

“He said that everyone thought his grandfather was close to God. They were so convinced his royal farr could protect them that they would fight without armor. Today, no one believes Isma‘il is anything but a man. He blames that on his father. Who can believe in his omnipotence after he was imprisoned for nearly twenty years?”

“True.”

“That is why he feels he has to show his power through brute force.”

“I see. Do you think Mohammad and his children are at risk?”

“Yes.”

“May God protect them. How about the princess?”

“He hasn’t said anything about her.”

“Will the nobles try to stop him?”

“No, because only about half are against him.”

“I see. And what is your strategy?”

“To survive.”

“I suppose that is better than the alternative.”

He laughed, but once again, I sensed that he was ill at ease with me. I decided to try to take advantage of his discomfort.

“Speaking of the alternative, may I ask you another question about my father?”

“Certainly.”

“What do you remember of him?”

“Your father was an excellent raconteur who was welcome at every party he attended. But like many people who are good at talking, he didn’t know when to stop.”

“Do you know how his plot was uncovered?”

“From what I heard, he imbibed too much one night and couldn’t keep quiet. It didn’t take long for the story to find the ears of someone willing to betray him.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. He loved to talk.”

A eunuch entered and told Mirza Salman that Mirza Shokhrollah needed to see him. I would have to hurry.

“There is just one other thing. The court history says that Tahmasb Shah didn’t punish Kamiyar Kofrani because he had such important allies. Do you know who they were?”

Mirza Salman’s eyes looked guarded, and I had the distinct impression that something was amiss.

“No. You have reached the limits of my knowledge on this subject.”

The more I investigated my father’s murder, the more the truth seemed to slip from my grasp. I remained silent, which I often found was a good way to encourage people to keep talking.

“The lesson in all of this is that a man must never be sloppy at court,” he added. “Look at Isma‘il Shah. What discipline he has! His security is impeccable. He hasn’t made a single mistake yet.”

Mirza Salman was ever the slippery courtier.

“Is that what matters most?”

“Perhaps not, but it has certainly forestalled any attempts on his life.”

The princess wasted no time before asking Gowhar if she knew anyone who might be able to help us deliver the digestives once we were ready. Gowhar mentioned a eunuch named Fareed Agha who had worked for her for several years before coming to serve at the palace. After Ibrahim was killed, he had visited her to pay his condolences and hinted about how unhappy he was regarding affairs at the palace. Gowhar summoned him and told him that if he would be willing to perform a special mission for her, it would make him rich, and he agreed to hear the terms of it.

We made our plans, and then I sent Massoud Ali to Fareed Agha to tell him to meet me underneath one of the big walnut trees in the harem gardens at midnight the following day. At the appointed hour, I wrapped myself in dark cotton clothes and waited at the base of the tree, where it was as black as naphtha.

When Fareed appeared, I recognized him slightly, not because
of his looks but because of his scent. The acrid smell of urine wafted around him due to some leak that must have resulted from the way he was cut. Such unfortunate eunuchs were usually put in lowly messenger jobs so that they didn’t bother anyone by lingering too long. He would welcome Pari’s money.

When he saw me, he looked surprised. “Is this mission for your princess?”

“Don’t ask questions. My orders are to lead you to the person who has summoned you.”

Fareed followed me to the back of the harem gardens and through the hedges, which had grown thicker since my first visit with Pari. The night was flooded with moonlight. We would have to hurry to avoid being seen. I stepped into the old pavilion and looked around. It was empty. I told him to wait a moment for me, and then I went into the room with the green and yellow tiles and lifted the old tile so Pari could appear. She emerged wrapped in a black chador, which concealed her head and body. She had also placed a picheh in front of her eyes so she could see but not be seen.

I called out for Fareed Agha, who entered behind me. He looked startled when he laid eyes on her. In her black clothing she was like a spirit hovering in the darkness.

“What is it, a jinni?” he asked, as if making a joke, but I could see he was awed.

“Come here,” Pari commanded, and he approached a little closer, but not too close.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I won’t tell you who I am, only that I have a splendid gift for you. Behold!” she said.

She opened a bag and spilled silver in front of him on the floor. The coins struck the tiled surface like music. Even in the dark of night, they gleamed, and his eyes became round with desire as he calculated what the money would mean.

“So you are a jinni after all!”

“Not so. I am a taskmaster.”

“What do you require?”

“Something very simple. I won’t tell you what it is unless you agree to be employed.”

“What is its purpose?” he asked.

“Ending the killings at the palace.”

There was a long silence.

“So this is a dirty business.”

“It is an essential business, one that requires a trustworthy man like yourself.”

“Why me?”

“I thought you might be a man of justice.”

“A man of justice? I have never seen myself that way.”

“Most of us haven’t until we are called on to do something of great importance.”

He looked uncomfortable. “I am just an ordinary servant.”

“That is exactly what we need. I understand that you served Gowhar and Ibrahim honorably for many years.”

“True. I feel very sorry for her now.”

“As do I. What do you do at the palace?”

“I make deliveries.”

“Of what?”

“Food, mostly.”

“Do you like working here?”

He was silent for a moment. “I used to.”

“What has changed?”

“The palace has become a place of fear,” he said. “One day a man is raised high; the next day his head is displayed on a stake outside the Tehran Gate. There is no logic to it.”

“That is the problem we wish to address,” said Pari.

“If your cause is pure justice, why do you pay?”

“In consideration of the great risk to you. We would do it ourselves, but we can’t go where you can.”

He took a deep breath. “Whom do you wish to extinguish?”

“I will tell you what you need to know if you accept my commission. If not, our conversation is finished. What is your decision?”

“It depends how you will protect me.”

“After you perform the deed we require, you will receive these
coins and will be escorted outside, where a horse will await you. You will depart for a distant city and will live as a rich man from then on.”

“I would rather stay in Qazveen.”

“You can’t. It is not safe for any of us.”

“How do I know you won’t turn on me? Or blame me for what you yourself have tried to do?”

“I will give you my word.”

“And why should I take your word?”

“Royal blood flows through my veins. Isn’t that good enough?”

“Not if you can’t prove it.”

“What would satisfy you?”

“Only one thing: I need to see you.”

“And how do I know you won’t betray me?”

“I give you my word.”

Pari laughed. “That is not good enough.”

“That is what I want,” he said. “Show me your face to prove who you are, and I will do what you ask.”

“Don’t do it,” I whispered to Pari. If he could name her, and he betrayed us or was caught, people would believe his story was true.

Heedless of her own safety, Pari lifted her picheh and revealed her face. Her dark eyes were just visible in the moonlight that filtered into the pavilion. A drop of turquoise set in gold gleamed at the center of her forehead. The silver threads in her robe glowed as if she were a ghostly apparition. She was fearless—and in that moment my heart swelled to bursting.

“When you perform what I command, know that you do so by order of a princess who has the good of her dynasty foremost in mind.”

He was speechless at the sight of her.

“Our time is at an end,” I said. “Will you help us or not?”

He eyed the money on the floor one last time as if making calculations. I could imagine what he must be thinking: He would never have to work again, and he would live a life of ease. I envied him.

“What must I do?”

“When we summon you, you will come here alone to pick up a box. You will deliver the box to a location outside the harem and
return here. Then you will receive your money and be escorted outside of the palace. Is that simple enough?”

“It is simple enough to kill a man.”

“True.”

There was a long silence. There was no turning back now.

“When the time is right, I will summon you,” I said.

“Not so fast. I want half the money now, and half when I return from delivering it.”

“No,” I said. “Half when you pick up the box, and half when you return.”

“Done.”

“May God be with you,” he said, and I watched him disappear into the dark. I returned the coins to the cloth bag. When he was far enough so that he would not hear or see anything, I gently lifted the tile, descended into the passageway, and left the bag of money there. Beside it, I placed the Shah’s inlaid ivory box, which had been concealed in my room. We were almost ready.