"it's... it's true?"
"yes, the will of god, excellency. everything will be returned to you. didn't your father support us lavishly? how can islamic government flourish without bazaar) help and support, how can we exist without bazaaris to fight the enemies of islam, the enemies of iran and the infidel?..."
outside the bazaar: the taxi stopped in the crowded square. lochart got out and paid the driver as two of a mass of would-be passengers, a woman and a man, fought their way into the space he had vacated. the square was full of people streaming into and out of the mosque and the bazaar and surrounding the street stalls. they paid little attention to him, his uniform and cap giving him free passage. the night was chill and overcast. the wind had picked up again and "uttered the flames of the oil lamps of street vendors. across the square was the street of the bakravan house and he walked briskly, rounded the corner, and stepped aside to let the mullah sayani and the green bands pass, then went on again.
at the door in the high wall he stopped, took a deep breath, and knocked loudly. then knocked again. then again. me heard footsteps, saw an eye behind the spy hole. "doorkeeper, it's me, excellency captain lochart," he called out happily.
the door swung open. "greetings, excellency," the doorkeeper said, still not over the shock of the abrupt arrival and departure of the mullah and green bands bowed out humbly by excellency foul temper himself, he thought in awe, who the very second the door was bolted had jumped up and down like a madman, drummed his feet on the ground, and rushed back silently into the house, and now here's another apparition, by god, the infidel who once was married to the betrothed of excellency piss.
a squall blew dead leaves across the patio. another pop-eyed servant stood at the open main door. "greetings, excellency," he mumbled, "i'll... i'll tell excellency meshang you've arrived."
"wait!" now lochart could hear the excited buzz of voices coming from the dining salon, glasses clinking, laughter of a party. "is my wife in there?"
"your wife?" the servant collected himself with difficulty. "the, er, her highness, captain excellency, she's gone to bed."
lochart's anxiety soared. "is she sick?"
"she did not appear sick, excellency, she went just before dinner. i'll tell excellency meshang th "
"no need to disturb him and his guests," he said, delighted with the opportunity of seeing her alone first. "i'll see her, then come down and announce myself later."
the servant watched him go up the stairs, two at a time, waited until he was out of sight, then hurried to find meshang.
lochart went along a corridor into another. he forced himself to walk, relishing how surprised she would be and so happy and then they would see meshang and meshang would listen to the plan. at last he was at their door and turned the handle. when the door did not open, he tapped and called out softly, "sharazad, it's me, tommy." his spirit sang while he waited. "shara
zad?" waiting. knocking. waiting. then knocking a little louder. "sharazad!"
"excellency!"
"oh, hello, jari," he said, in his impatience not noticing that she was trembling. "sharazad, darling, unlock the door, it's me, tommy!"
"her highness said she was not to be disturbed."
"she didn't mean me, of course not! oh! she's taken a sleeping pill?"
"oh no, excellency."
he put all of his attention on her. "what're you so frightened about?"
"me? i'm not frightened, excellency, why should i be frightened?"
something's wrong, he thought. impatiently he turned back to the door. "sharazad!" waiting waiting waiting. "this is ridiculous!" he muttered. "sharazad!" before he knew what he was doing he was hammering on the door. "open the door, for crissake!"
"what are you doing here?"
it was meshang, raw with rage. at the far end of the corridor, lochart saw zarah come into view and stop. "good... good evening, meshang," he said, his heart pounding, trying to sound reasonable and polite and why the hell doesn't she open the door and this isn't the way it's supposed to happen. "i came back to see my wife."
"she's not your wife, she's divorced, now get out!"
lochart stared at him blankly. "of course she's my wife!"
"by god, are you simple? she was your wife. now leave my house!"
"you're crazy, you can't divorce her just like that!"
"get out!"
"get stuffed!" again lochart hammered on the door. "sharazad!"
meshang whirled on zarah. "go and get some green bands! go on, get some green bands! they'll throw this madman out!"
"but, meshang, isn't it dangerous to involve them in ou "
"get them!"
lochart's temper snapped. his shoulder went into the door. it shuddered but did not give so he raised his foot, slammed his heel against the lock. the lock shattered and the door burst open. "get green bands!" meshang shrieked. "don't you understand they're on our side now, we're reinstated..." then he rushed through the door too. blankly he also saw the room was empty, bed empty, bathroom empty, nowhere else she could be. both he and lochart turned on jari who stood at the doorway, staring with disbelief, zarah cautiously behind her in the hall. "where is she?" meshang shouted.
"i don't know, excellency, she never left here, my room is next door and i'm a light sleeper..." jari howled as meshang belted her across the mouth, the blow sending her reeling onto her hands and knees.
"where's she gone?"
"i don't know, excellency, i thought she was in be " she shrieked as meshang's toe went into her side. "by god, i don't know i don't know i don't know!"
lochart was at the french doors. they opened easily, already unlatched. at once he went out onto the balcony, down the stairs, and to the back door. he came back slowly, in turmoil. meshang and zarah watched him from the balcony. "the back door was unlocked. she must've gone out this way."
"gone where?" meshang was flushed with rage, and zarah turned on jari who was still on her hands and knees in the bedroom, moaning and weeping with fear and pain. "shut up, you dog, or i'll whip you. jari! if you don't know where she's gone, where do you think she's gone?"
"i... i don't know, highness," the old woman sobbed.
"thinkkk!" zarah shrieked and slapped her.
jari howled. "i don't knowwww! she's been strange all day, excellencies, strange, she sent me away this afternoon and went off by herself and i met her near seven o'clock and we came back together but she said nothing, nothing, nothing..."
"by god, why didn't you tell me?" meshang shouted.
"what was there to tell, excellency? please don't kick me again, please!"
meshang groped for a chair. the violent pendulum from total terror when the mullah and green bands were announced to total euphoria at his reprieve and reinstatement to fury finding lochart here and sharazad gone had momentarily unhinged him. his mouth moved but there was no sound and he saw lochart questioning jari but could not understand the words.
when he had rushed back into the dining room to stutter the god-given news there had been rejoicing, zarah had wept with happiness and embraced him and so did the women, and the men had warmly wrung his hand. all except daranoush. daranoush was no longer there. he had fled. out the back door. "he's gone?"
"like a bag full of fart!" someone called out.
everyone had started laughing, their private relief that they were no longer in any immediate danger of guilt by association, together with meshang's totally unexpected rocket back to wealth and power, making them light-headed. someone had shouted, "you really can't have daranoush the daring as a brotherin-law, meshang!"
"no, no, by god," he remembered saying, quaffing a glass of champagne. "how could you trust such a man?"
"not even with a bucket of piss! by the prophet, i've always thought dirty daranoush overcharged for his services. the bazaar should rescind his contract!"
another cheer and general agreement and meshang had drunk a second glass
of champagne, gloating over the glorious ne
w possibilities opened up before him: the new contract for the bazaar's waste which he as the injured party would of course have, a new syndicate to finance the government under his guidance and greater profit, new associations with more important ministers than ali kia where is that son of a dogs. new deals in the oil fields, monopolies to maneuver, a new match for sharazad, so easy now for who would not want to be part of his family, the bazaar) family? no need now to pay out a usurious dowry i agreed to only under duress. all my property back, the estates on the caspian shores, streets of houses in jaleh, apartments in the northern suburbs, lands and orchards and fields and villages, all of it back.
then the servant destroying his elation, whispering that lochart had returned, was already in his house, already upstairs. rushing upstairs, and now helplessly watching the man he hated so much questioning jari, zarah listening as intently.
with an effort he concentrated. jari was saying between sobs, "... i'm not sure, excellency, she... she only... she only told me the young man that saved her life at the first women's protest was a university student."
"did she ever meet him alone?"
"oh, no, excellency, no, as i said we met him at the march and he asked us to take coffee to recover," jari said. she was petrified of being caught in the lie but more petrified of telling what had really happened. god protect us, she prayed. where has she gone, where?
"what was his name, jari?"
"i don't know, excellencies, it might have been ibrahim or... or ishmael, i don't know. i already told you, he had no importance."
lochart's head was pounding. no clue, nothing. where would she have gone? to a friend's? to the university? another protest march? don't forget the rumors in the market about university students rioting again, more explosions expected tonight, more marches and countermarches, green bands versus the leftists, but all non-imam- sponsored marches forbidden by the komiteh and the komiteh's patience ended. "jar), you must have some idea, some way of helping us!"
meshang said gutturally, "whip her, she knows!"
"i don't i don't..." jari wailed.
"shut up, jari!" lochart turned on meshang, his face pale and violence absolute. "i don't know where she's gone but i know the why: you forced the divorce, and i swear by the lord god if she comes to harm, any harm, you will pay!"
meshang blustered, "you left her, you left her penniless, you abandoned her and you're divorced, yo "
"remember, you will pay! and if you bar me from this house whenever i come back or she comes back, by god, be that on your head too!" on the
1048 names clavell
edge of madness, lochart stalked toward the french doors.
zarah said quickly, "where are you going?"
"i don't know... i... to the university. perhaps she's gone to join another march though why she'd run off to do that..." lochart could not bring himself to articulate his real terror: that her revolt was so extreme that her mind was unhinged and she would kill herself oh, not suicide, but how many times in the past had she said, "never worry about me, tommy. i am a believer, i always try to do god's work and so long as i die doing god's work with god's name on my lips i will go to paradise."
but what about our child-to-be? a mother wouldn't, couldn't, could she, someone like sharazad?
the room was very still. for an eternity he stood there. then, all at once, his being swept him into new waters. in a strange clear voice he said, "bear witness for me: i attest that there is no other god but god and mohammed is the prophet of god... i attest that there is no other god but god and mohammed is the prophet of god..." and the third and last time. now it was done. he was at peace with himself. he saw them staring at him. stunned.
meshang broke the silence, no longer in anger. "allah-u akbar! welcome. but saying the shahada is not enough, not by itself."
"i know. but it is the beginning."
they watched him vanish into the night, all of them spellbound that they had witnessed a soul being saved, an unbeliever transmuted into a believer, so unexpectedly. all of them were filled with joy, degrees of joy. "god is great!"
zarah murmured, "meshang, doesn't this change everything?"
"yes, yes and no. but now he will go to paradise. as god wants." suddenly he was very tired. his eyes went to jari, and she began to tremble again. "jari," he said with the same calm, "you are going to be whipped until you tell me all the truth or you are in hell. come along, zarah, we mustn't forget our guests."
"and sharazad?"
"as god wills."
near the university: 9:48 p.m. sharazad turned into the main road where green bands and their supporters were collecting. thousands of them. the vast majority were men. all armed. mullahs marshaled them, exerting them to maintain discipline, not to fire on the leftists until they were fired upon, to try to persuade them from their evil. "don't forget they're iranians, not satanic foreigners. god is great... god is great..."
"welcome, child," an old mullah said gently, "peace be upon you."
"and upon you," she said. "we're marching against the anti-god?"
"oh, yes, in a little while, there's plenty of time."
"i have a gun," she said proudly, showing it to him. "god is great."
"god is great. but better that the killing should cease and the misguided should recognize the truth, renounce their heresies, obey the imam, and come back to islam." the old man saw her youth and resolution and was uplifted, and saddened. "better the killing should cease but if those of the left hand do not cease to oppose the imam, god's peace on him, then with the help of god we will hurry them into hell..."
~1111111~
tabri~at the palace: 10:05 p.m. the three of them were sitting in front of the wood fire drinking after-dinner coffee and watching the flames, the room small and richly brocaded, warm and intimate one of hakim's guards beside the door. but there was no peace between them, though all had pretended otherwise, now and during the evening. the flames held their attention, each seeing different pictures therein. erikki was watching the fork in the road, always the fork, one way the flames leading to loneliness, the other to fulfillment perhaps and perhaps not. azadeh watched the future, trying not to watch it.
hakim khan took his eyes off the fire and threw down the gauntlet. "you've been distracted all evening, azadeh," he said.
"yes. i think we all are." her smile was not real. "do you think we could talk in private, the three of us?"
"of course." hakim motioned to the guard. "i'll call if i need you." the man obeyed and closed the door after him. instantly the mood of the room changed. now all three were adversaries, all aware of it, all on guard and all ready. "yes, azadeh?"
"is it true that erikki must leave at once?"
"yes."
"there must be a solution. i cannot endure two years without my husband."
"with the help of god the time will pass quickly." hakim khan sat stiffly upright, the pain eased by the codeine.
"i cannot endure two years," she said again.
"your oath cannot be broken."
erikki said, "he's right, azadeh. you gave the oath freely, hakim is khan and the price... fair. but all the killings i must leave, the fault's mine, not yours or hakim's."
"you did nothing wrong, nothing, you were forced into protecting me and yourself, they were carrion bent on murdering us, and as to the raid... you did what you thought best, you had no way of knowing the ransom was part paid or father was dead... he should not have ordered the messenger killed."
"that changes nothing. i have to go tonight. we can accept it, and leave it at that," erikki said, watching hakim. "two years will pass quickly."
"if you live, my darling." azadeh turned to her brother who looked back at her, his smile still the same, eyes the same.
erikki glanced from brother to sister, so different and yet so similar. what's 1050
changed her, why has she precipitated that which should not have been precipitated?
"of course if i live," he said, outwardly c
alm.
an ember fell into the hearth and he reached forward and moved it to safety. he saw that azadeh had not taken her gaze off hakim, nor he off her. the same calm, same polite smile, same inflexibility.
"yes, azadeh?" hakim said.
"a mullah could absolve me from my oath."
"not possible. neither a mullah nor i could do that, not even the imam would agree."
"i can absolve myself. this is between me and god, i can ab "
"you cannot, azadeh. you cannot and live at peace with yourself."
"i can. i can and be at peace."
James Clavell - Whirlwind Page 141