Equal of the Sun Read Online Free PDF Page A

white turban, fashioned of two fabrics twined together, made him appear even bigger than he was. Pari looked as fine as a vase next to him, as if she had a different maker altogether.
    “. . . prepared for what happens after . . .” I heard Pari saying.
    Pari began naming kinsmen and Shamkhal replied either “with us” or “not with us.” A few times, he said, “I don’t know.”
    “Why not?” asked Pari each time, until finally she became exasperated and said, in a tone that brooked no argument, “We must know these things or we will fail.”
    “I promise to have more information the next time I see you.”
    His deference toward her surprised me.
    A few days later, I found a way to ask Pari about which man sheplanned to support for the throne. I told the princess that I had been hearing rumors about how Sultanam, the Shah’s first wife, had been searching for a suitable wife for her son Isma‘il, even though he was imprisoned. She suspected that Isma‘il’s lack of male children might be the result of a curse placed by enemies, and she had been consulting herbalists about how to open the gates of his luck.
    Pari drank in this news. “Good work.”
    “The speculation is that she intends to make him the next Shah,” I added.
    “So does every mother of a prince. We will have to wait and see. But we must be ready.”
    “For what?”
    “For whatever happens, so we can rally behind whomever my father designates as heir. The nobles have shown themselves to be divided, and I want to avoid another civil war at all costs.”
    “How will you do that?”
    “By making sure that the heir gets all the help he needs to be successfully crowned shah.”
    “And who is that?”
    “My father hasn’t announced his selection.”
    “Some say Haydar is the best man,” I said, trying to gauge her reaction, “although he has lived all his life in the palace.”
    “He is untested.”
    “And some think Isma‘il is better, because he was such a brave warrior.”
    Pari’s eyes were sad. “He was my hero when I was young. My heart has ached for him in his exile. None of the royal family has been permitted to write to him or receive his letters, except for his mother.”
    “Do you think he would govern well after an absence of so many years?”
    “Choosing an heir is my father’s concern,” Pari replied sharply. “Ours is to ensure that a strong network of supporters is in place well before it is needed. Do you understand?”
    “Yes, esteemed lieutenant,” I answered, “but I would have thought you might advocate for your brother, Suleyman.”
    Pari’s mouth flattened. “I am not a sentimentalist. He is no match for the men he would have to rule.”
    So Pari was planning a decisive role in the succession! I suspected that a large batch of letters she had recently sent were intended to rally support, but for whom?
    For me, it wasn’t merely a matter of curiosity. If Pari’s star fell with the Shah’s death, mine would plummet.

    After entering palace service, I had begun making friends and had asked those close to me to help me find out more about my father. Mahmood’s mother had been too young to remember him, and as a slave, she did not have connections to leading families who might know more. Khadijeh had asked Sultanam once on some excuse, but Sultanam knew nothing about what had happened. Balamani and Anwar had pleaded ignorance.
    I had also tried to obtain access to the court histories to examine them for information about my father’s murder. Each time, I was told that a servant of my station was not permitted to lay eyes on confidential court documents. Years passed without progress. I had yearned to rise up through the ranks so that I would have access to powerful men who possessed the information I sought.
    After Pari hired me, I went to the office of the royal scribes to introduce myself as the princess’s new chief of information. The scribes worked in a large room illuminated by light streaming