Equal of the Sun (57 page)

I hurried back to the palace to tell Balamani the news. He was leaning against cushions in the guest room in our quarters reviewing some documents for Anwar about the new Shah’s plans for religious endowments.

“Balamani, you were right about the princess,” I said. “She did not forget me. She has left me the mill near the Tehran Gate.”

He dropped the documents onto the wooden desk on his lap. “May God be praised! How much money does it bring in?”

“I don’t know yet.”

The relief in his eyes made me realize how worried he had been about me. “Now you can take good care of your sister, and maybe even of yourself.”

“Perhaps,” I said, but my voice sounded gloomy.

“Javaher, what is the matter? This should be one of the most joyful days of your life. You have been favored beyond imagining, even though your patron is dead.”

“I know. My heart is full of gratitude toward her. How kind she was to remember me! Little did she know what problems would ensue. Khalil Khan has claimed the mill. How can I wrest it away from him?”

Balamani looked puzzled. “You know how. Go to the grand vizier, show him the proof, and ask for his help in transferring the property into your name.”

“Mirza Salman won’t help me.”

“Why not?”

“He despises me.”

Balamani scrutinized me closely for a moment. “What have you done?”

“I had an altercation with him.”

“About what?”

“About a few things that were bothering me.”

“For example?” His brow furrowed, making him look like an avenging angel in his pale blue robe.

“I lost my temper. I couldn’t help it.” Embarrassment crept through me; it was the last thing an experienced courtier was supposed to do.

“What did you say?”

I looked away. “I accused him of instigating Pari’s murder.”

Balamani was stunned into a long silence. He stared at me, the skin between his eyes knitting into such fierce lines of concern that I felt as if I had disappointed my own mother.

“And that is not all—I smashed Khalil Khan’s nose. It points to the left now.”

He snorted. “It is a wonder you are still breathing. You are going to need the help of a power greater than any here on earth.”

I did not reply.

“Javaher, you have been a fool,” he added, his voice rising. “How do you think you are going to get the mill now that the grand vizier—who has the last word on all property documents—is set against you?”

“I don’t know. All I can tell you is that I felt like the reed that has been torn from its bed. How can I play a sweet tune when all that pours from my heart is sorrow and loss?”

“You know the rules at court. Why have you sabotaged all my hard work in your favor? What good do you do Pari if you destroy yourself? What a donkey you are!”

I felt the blood rush to my forehead, and my hands balled into fists at my sides. “By God above, I couldn’t bear it anymore! Are we not men? Do we not have tongues? Have they been so severed by the tyrants who rule us that we have lost our ability to speak?”

Balamani tried to interrupt, but I continued.

“For the first time in my life, I stood up like a man. I may pay the price of my life for my words, but at least I said them. I don’t care that I made an enemy. I don’t care that I may lose my posting. For once, I did not feel as if what was true in my heart was as different from what was on my lips as day to night. I became like hot white
light, pure and clean. I felt as if my testicles had grown to the size of mountains and I had earned the right to shout out, ‘I am a complete man!’”

Balamani’s eyes softened, and he looked older and sadder than I had ever seen.

“I have never dared to do what you describe, my friend. I still think you are a fool”—he opened his palms to the heavens in wonder—“but I am proud of you.”

A mist clouded my vision. I shook it away angrily and gratefully.

“Balamani, what can I do now?”

The skepticism in his eyes indicated that he didn’t think I had much of a chance. “What are your desires?”

I thought for a moment. “I want the mill so I can leave court with an income, and then I want to learn what it means to be my own master.”

“And how do you expect to achieve all that?”

“I will go to Mirza Salman and ask for the mill because it is my right.”

Balamani’s laugh was long and sad. With regret, I remembered all the time he had spent drilling me so that I would never slip at court.

“Your behavior has been so provocative that he will refuse to help. At least accept one morsel of advice.”

“Of course.”

“Apologize. Explain that grief unhinged you. Swear to be an ally. That is the way of a smart courtier, and you have been one of the best.”

I grew hot with anger. “So I am to return to subterfuge, is that it?” I barked.

“Calm down,” Balamani ordered. “How badly do you wish to win?”

Mirza Salman wouldn’t even allow me to be shown in to see him, although I waited all day. When I rushed past his servants into his
rooms, insisting that I had urgent business, his face puffed out with rage. I was hardly able to get the request for the mill out of my mouth before he called me an illiterate fool and had me thrown out.

I decided right then to visit Fereshteh with the excuse of wanting to exchange information with her about the court’s new personalities and plans. I needed her advice. Even more than that, I longed to see her and unburden my heart.

When I arrived at her house, I was told Fereshteh was occupied and would admit me when she could. I drank some tea, ate some small cucumbers, and admired a new painting on her walls of a noblewoman serving wine to a smitten courtier. The day dragged on, and I realized that Fereshteh was probably servicing a client. What if it was Mirza Salman? I was filled with loathing at the thought.

When I was finally shown in to see her, she didn’t rise to greet me. Her large eyes looked weary, her robe creased and tired.

“What is the matter?”

“My daughter has been vomiting,” she said. “I gave her some medicine and now she is finally sleeping.”

“I hope she gets better soon.”

“Thank you.”

“I have come to thank
you
. You have helped me with many things.”

“I only wish my intelligence on Mirza Salman had arrived soon enough to save your commander.”

“I wish the same,” I replied. “It is strange, but I believe Pari knew in her heart that she was going to her grave.”

“Why?”

“She spoke to me about death and judgment even before she knew about her uncle’s murder.”

“Alas! What a tragedy. Was she as fierce as they say?”

I thought back to Pari’s meeting with Mohammad and Khayr al-Nisa Beygom. “She was so bright that her light could burn. She was one of those people who neither compromise nor hold their tongue. She made people angry enough to want to destroy her.”

“Because she was too outspoken?”

“And because she had too many allies. Now that Mohammad Shah and his wife have also executed her mother and her uncle, they have uprooted Circassian power at court and made room for their own supporters. To me, though, it is as if they hacked a limb off their own tree.”

My cheeks felt wet all of a sudden, and I wiped them with the cloth that I still kept tucked inside my sash. It was Pari’s silk handkerchief, and the sight of it only made me feel worse.

Fereshteh’s eyes searched my face. “Did you love her?”

“Yes,” I said, “in the way that a soldier loves a good commander or a nobleman loves a just shah.”

“I understand. May this be your final sorrow!”

“Thank you.”

“It is a terrible loss. What will you do now?”

“I don’t know. I must wait to see what plans they have for me at the palace. Balamani said he would try to help me.”

“I hope you receive favor. In the meantime, I have heard some useful news,” Fereshteh continued. “Mirza Salman has just gotten married.”

“Oh?” I said.

“His wife’s name is Nasreen Khatoon.”

I snorted with disgust. “She spied on me and accused me of wrongdoing, which could have gotten me killed. Have she and Mirza Salman been working together all this time?”

“I presume so.”

“They deserve each other.”

“Mirza Salman doesn’t expect to be faithful to her, of course.”

Everyone knew that a nobleman could have several wives and keep as many other women as he could afford. Why had Fereshteh bothered to mention that?

“Come now: What are you saying?”

She was watching me very closely. “He has made me an offer.”

“Of marriage?”

“Of upkeep. He has promised to pay all my expenses if I serve him alone—in which case I could see you no more.”

I felt a violent surge of anger in my chest. “Does fate strew the
man’s path with nothing but roses? A high posting, the removal of Pari, a well-placed wife, and now all your beauty? Good God! Why doesn’t he offer to marry you?”

“You know very well that noblemen don’t marry prostitutes.”

“He is a princess-killer, and he has tried to thwart me at every turn. How could you even consider him?”

“What other options do I have?”

“You said you wished to retire.”

“This is the only form of retirement I have ever been offered.”

I couldn’t stand hearing about him anymore. I leapt up, strode to the door, and thrust my feet into my shoes, hard with anger.

“How is his offer different from prostitution?”

“How is any marriage different?”

“That is ridiculous.”

I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at her, a cruel comment on my lips. She raised her hands as if in protection. The warning look in her large eyes stopped my tongue.

“Javaher, I must think about what is best for my daughter. More than anything, I wish to relinquish my profession.”

I paused. “What would you do if you had some money?”

“I would set about making myself respectable by learning a craft so that I could earn money another way. When my daughter is grown, I wish her to marry a kind man from a good family. There is no chance of that unless I can show the world a new face.”

She looked sad, and I thought about how no one had been able to save either one of us from our fate. What if, through the blessings of good fortune, we were able to save those who came after us? Only then would it seem as if our lives had been redeemed. What happiness we would feel if we could shelter our young ones from the lives we had endured!

I kicked off my shoes and sat down again, sighing.

“Fereshteh, I apologize for my outburst. Perhaps there is a way we can help each other. Pari left me a mill, but Mirza Salman won’t allow me to claim it. I need something damning about him in order to force his hand. If I can get ownership of it, I promise I will help you. The mill does well, and people always need its services. Its
income would help you get started in a new life. I would like to be able to thank you for all your help, and I know that Pari would wish to do the same.”

Her whole face brightened with hope. “How grateful I would feel to be in charge of my own person! I would never have to touch one of those things again.”

I couldn’t help a wry smile.

“Why don’t you ask the Shah for help with the mill when you are called in about your new posting?”

“Mohammad Shah gave Khalil Khan all of Pari’s money as a reward for her murder. I doubt he would feel compelled to fulfill any of her last wishes.”

Fereshteh thought for a long time. I watched her face and was surprised to see what looked like strong emotions playing over it, but I couldn’t read them.

“I know of one person who might have the information you seek.”

“Who is it?”

“I can’t tell you,” she said.

“If we are to be partners in this, I need to know who it is.”

“Never mind. Leave this to me.”

About a week later, Fereshteh sent a messenger to me requesting that I visit her immediately. On the pretext that I had an urgent errand to fulfill in the bazaar, I asked Rasheed Khan for leave in the middle of the day. He let me go, although I could see in his eyes that it was because he desired to help me, not because he believed me. Abteen Agha snorted at my back as I left.