A Hundred Sweet Promises

by Sepehr Haddad

  Toward the second evening, after another day of good-paced riding, they finally reached the alpine village of Sepidan, on the outskirts of the waterfall. They were promptly greeted by the lord of the town, called kadkhoda in Persian, and they presented him the letter of convoy from the governor.

  The kadkhoda extended a kind welcome in the Persian fashion and provided a guest house for their stay that night. After they cleaned up from their long journey, he invited the travel-weary guests to a hearty meal of mutton, which was too fatty for the children’s liking but was a pleasant and well-received dinner by Nasrosoltan and the ladies.

  Once they finished dining, the remains from the meal and the traditional tea and sweets were sent out for the accompanying guards and servants. As the kadkhoda bid them goodnight, Nasrosoltan indicated that he would walk out with him to check on the others. After thanking him for his hospitality, Nasrosoltan spent some time chatting with him outside. Nasrosoltan asked him whether there was a different route for returning to Shiraz after their planned visit to Margoon the next day.

  The kadkhoda replied, “The other roads leading back to Shiraz may give you a shorter distance to travel but are not as safe. There had been bandits on the surrounding roads until a few weeks ago when I took care of the issue once and for all!” He drew a line across his own throat to depict how he had solved the problem and then added with a laugh, “So why tempt fate? Just go as you came with God’s protection!”

  With Nasrosoltan still outside, and the children already asleep in the other room, Madame de La Martinière had a few moments to speak freely to Madame Shamsi about what was on her mind.

  “Shamsi, you have been surprisingly quiet about what you think of our companion, Monsieur Minbashian! He is an attractive man, and I know you favor good-looking men. So, unless you already have made some attempt that I am not aware of, why have you not found an opportunity to get closer to him?”

  They were close friends from their days together in Paris, so Shamsi was not surprised by this direct question, and she replied, “Yes, he is a fascinating man. He does not think like most of the men here in Shiraz; he has a European mindset that is appealing. But as you know, I came back to Persia for one reason only, and that is to collect my inheritance. I have no need for attachments of this sort.”

  After a momentary pause, Madame Shamsi revealed, “Though, now that you mention it, he may be useful in helping me reacquire what is rightfully mine.”

  Madame de La Martinière’s ears perked up, as she was curious to know the details of what Madame Shamsi alluded to, but Nasrosoltan returned, so they had to cut their conversation short.

  As he joined the ladies comfortably sitting on the floor near the fireplace, Nasrosoltan apologized for leaving them unattended for so long. After a short while of talking and drinking tea, Madame de La Martinière reached into her handbag and removed a small package, asking, “Would you like to join me in smoking some opium? My physician in Tehran prescribed it to alleviate my headaches.” As opium in Persia was consumed in a manner like wine in southern Europe, the others accepted the offer without pause.

  The relaxed state of euphoria that followed their smoking led to Madame Shamsi addressing Nasrosoltan with a sultry voice. “Monsieur, I never forget a debt that I owe, and my obligation to you is a chanson.”

  She slowly got up and situated herself in the middle of the room as if on a stage. She then began singing a lost-love lament in French with the most captivating voice. As Madame Shamsi sang, she kept looking into Nasrosoltan’s eyes, mesmerizing him like a snake charmer, with gentle sways of her head and hands outstretched invitingly toward him.

  Nasrosoltan had never felt such an intense desire for any woman before this, wishing the moment would never end. Perhaps it was the effect of the opium, or maybe it was genuine affection, but whatever it was, the feeling crept into his heart and ensnared his soul as he succumbed to her siren song. The sound of her voice seductively beckoned him with a hint of furtive lust, and he wanted to jump up and embrace her. But instead, an infatuated Nasrosoltan remained in place in a trance, with his heart thundering.

  Madame de La Martinière, also affected by the opium, lay in a daze, not saying a word, watching this scene unfold and wondering to herself if this was part of Madame Shamsi’s unrevealed plan.

  When Madame Shamsi finished her impromptu performance, both Nasrosoltan and Madame de La Martinière applauded, and then she sat down very close to Nasrosoltan. Without giving it a thought, he reached out and grabbed her hand, kissing it in appreciation of what he had just heard.

  Holding on to her hand, he said, “Madame Shamsi, that was divine! I am delighted to have won our backgammon match. If not, I would have never had the pleasure of enjoying your magnificent voice. I am sincerely grateful.”

  But rather than reciprocate his affection, Madame Shamsi quickly pulled her hand from his grasp, and abruptly arose and sternly exclaimed, “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow; we should get some sleep now that all bets have been paid!”

  She then gestured to Madame de La Martinière that it was time to go to their room. As Nasrosoltan also got up and bid them both a good night, he suddenly worried that his impulsive gesture of grabbing and kissing her hand may have given her offense.

  Early the next morning, after a breakfast of fresh eggs, goat cheese, and tea, they departed for the Margoon waterfalls. They rode until the narrowing path forced them to disembark and traverse the remainder of the way on foot. The trail threaded over and between rocky outcrops that skirted the bottom of the falls, passing stunning viewpoints along the way. Nasrosoltan welcomed the walk and hoped for some private time to talk with Madame Shamsi. Fortunately, he ended up alone with her, behind the eager children, who rushed up ahead with Madame de La Martinière and the guides.

  After a while of marveling at the beauty of the surrounding nature, the two shared some small talk to break the ice from the last evening’s unexpected ending. Feeling the time was right, Nasrosoltan casually asked her, “Madame Shamsi, I have been curious about something and have for some time wanted to broach the subject with you. I hope you do not consider it as being too forward if I ask you a question?”

  Madame Shamsi, who had earlier asked her friend to take the children ahead of them for the same reason of wanting to be alone with Nasrosoltan, replied nonchalantly with a smile, “Monsieur, ask what you wish; I do not offend easily.”

  He continued earnestly, “I have sensed an animosity between you and the commander, and I am puzzled by this. Is there a particular reason?”

  Madame Shamsi replied, “It is really not too complicated, but I do not want to disparage a friend of yours, especially when I am a guest of his father. Let me just say, it results from a misunderstanding on his part.”

  Nasrosoltan pried further, not satisfied with this half answer. He then confessed that the commander was not as close a friend as she perceived, enticing her to divulge more. “You know I have known the commander since childhood, and I am keenly aware of his reactionary mindset and, at times, disagreeable demeanor.”

  After a brief silence, where Nasrosoltan wondered if a response was forthcoming, Madame Shamsi began to slowly tell him what happened when she first met the commander.

  “When I first arrived in Shiraz from France, the commander paid me an extraordinary amount of attention. I was grateful at first, having been away from Persia for so long and with no husband to take care of everything. I was a little lost.”

  As if reliving the moment, Madame Shamsi paused to collect herself before she continued. “Then one day, when we were alone, he admitted his attraction to me. I brushed him off as if it were a joke. But another time, he found me alone again in the sitting room, and he approached me, smelling of sweat and alcohol. He leaned in close, breathing on me with his terrible stench, and told me if I were ‘friendly’ with him, he would see to it that all my business affairs would be arranged in my favor.”

  Nasrosoltan was shocked to hear this and
asked, “How could he do such a thing? So what did you do?”

  Madame Shamsi took a deep breath before relaying the rest of her painful tale. “I thanked him for his offer and tried to defuse the situation by telling him that I thought we were already friends. However, he persisted, saying he wanted more from the friendship.”

  Madame Shamsi stopped walking and turned away from Nasrosoltan, with her head bowed as if shamed as to what she was going to reveal. Nasrosoltan stopped as well, and he gently touched Madame Shamsi’s elbow to comfort and steady her, hoping that she would continue.

  She appreciated his show of concern and slowly lifted her head and lowered her voice, saying, “Then he physically tried to become too familiar with me, which I immediately repelled.”

  Looking directly into Nasrosoltan’s eyes, she continued, “He seemed to enjoy that I felt powerless. The look in his eyes frightened me. I got a glimpse into the depths of his deviant behavior when he grunted, ‘Don’t worry, no need to cause a scene, you will enjoy it!’’’

  Nasrosoltan was beside himself with anger and hit his fist into his other open hand as if he was punching the commander. Seeing Nasrosoltan’s reaction, Madame Shamsi continued breathlessly, “Fortunately, I was able to push the brute off me, and I frantically told him to get away and leave me alone, and I threatened to scream!”

  Nasrosoltan was totally on edge, with a thousand questions—impatient to hear the outcome. “What happened then? Did anyone come to help you? What a beast!”

  Madame Shamsi turned and began walking on the path again. “He became extremely offended, collected himself, and walked to the door, mocking me, saying, ‘So, from now on, should I stand over here and talk to you?’

  “But then, he immediately returned to sit down next to me, grabbed my hand forcefully, and gave it a slobbery kiss, as if marking his territory, like a wild animal. Then without saying another word, he got up and left the room.”

  Madame Shamsi threw a sideways glance toward Nasrosoltan to gauge his reaction. His mind was racing, and he was furious with the commander. But before he could say anything, she went on. “It was disgusting, and I felt unclean, so the instant he left, I washed my hands repeatedly, not wanting any trace of him on me. I was frightened and did not want to tell anyone because of my precarious position with his father. I have done everything since then to avoid him, or at least make sure there are other people around to discourage his dreadful behavior.”

  Nasrosoltan, who was now craving to know all that happened, asked, “What has been the situation since then?”

  Madame Shamsi replied, “After that day, even though we never discussed the incident, at every opportunity, he exhibits the most awkward behavior in my presence as if he is a jealous lover of mine. This small-minded man questions all my actions and is possessive over whom I socialize with. Of course, I have not given him any impression of mutual interest!”

  Before Nasrosoltan could ask another question, Madame Shamsi continued, “But obviously, he was embarrassed and angry over my rejection and tried to influence his father’s opinion of me with untruths and innuendos. Thankfully, the governor has not fallen prey to such nonsense. Unfortunately, the more time I spend in the company of his father, the more the commander finds this awkward, as if it is an affront to his own masculinity.”

  Madame Shamsi finished her tale with a fiery statement. “The commander is a lewd and ignorant man, lacking any sense of propriety. I actually pity him since he is a prisoner of his appetites!”

  Not only did Madame Shamsi’s harrowing tale tantalize Nasrosoltan’s ear, but it also confirmed his suspicion that the commander was infatuated with her. An infatuation that had only grown more potent by her rebuff and air of unavailability. After a few moments of silence to let all of what he had heard sink in, Nasrosoltan replied, “I’m so sorry that you had to experience this shameful and clumsy attempt by the commander for your affections.”

  Even though Nasrosoltan felt that the commander clearly acted like a lecherous brute, he sensed that Madame Shamsi’s assessment of herself as a scared, helpless victim did not add up. In the back of his mind, Nasrosoltan had a passing thought that this passionate woman, who was clearly skilled in the art of love and intrigue, may have had more control of the situation than she let on. He had witnessed her holding her own amongst a throng of powerful and entitled men at his first meeting with her. In fact, she seemed to relish being the center of attention. Even on this very excursion, she had shown herself to be immensely capable.

  After hearing her story, Nasrosoltan was also concerned that his hurried kiss of her hand the night before might hint at his own potential for aggression in her eyes. He needed to distance himself from any comparison with the commander, but he could not help wanting to delve deeper, so he tried to show as much empathy as possible.

  Nasrosoltan added, “I can now see why the commander acts uncomfortable in your presence. It is refreshing to see that you know how to take care of yourself when in a difficult situation.”

  Madame Shamsi gave him a welcoming smile but said nothing in return, so Nasrosoltan continued questioning her. “But if you do not mind me asking, why then do you spend so much time with the governor? Is it to rub salt in the commander’s wound?”

  Madame Shamsi laughed, acknowledging that she would enjoy the commander suffering at the thought, and replied, “No, that man is really not that important for me to want to think of ways to disturb his peace. The truth is that his father has power of attorney from my late husband and thereby control over all my inherited properties, and he does not relinquish the title to me. He says I am a respected guest, but I feel more like a prisoner. The decision my husband made a few years ago has now come back to haunt me. Especially troublesome is that the apple has not fallen far from the tree. I sense the governor, like his son, sees me as more than just the wife of his late friend. He is subtler than his son, but I believe it is only because he feels he can afford to be.”

  Nasrosoltan understood what she alluded to and added, “I am sorry to hear that you are being kept here against your will. So, do you have a plan to free yourself from your gilded cage?”

  The mention of a plan made her uneasy, and Madame Shamsi responded defensively, “I have no plan! If I did, I would not stay here one day longer than need be. You know what I speak of: why be stuck here when I could be in Paris, or you could be in St. Petersburg? This makes me wonder, why are you here? You have nothing tethering you; why not just follow your heart and go back to the place you love?”

  Before this unexpected reaction of hers, Nasrosoltan had felt he was making some progress in connecting with Madame Shamsi. But she appeared to be too masterful for Nasrosoltan, who did not have much experience with worldly women, and he struggled to keep pace with her. When she became agitated, Nasrosoltan thought to rebalance their interaction with a confession, admitting, “Just as your late husband has unknowingly anchored you here, I am also bound by a promise to my father. You could say I am also a prisoner of my word to him.”

  She then gently touched his arm and, with an inviting smile, looked directly into his eyes and said, “Then it seems we are both passengers stuck on a ship going nowhere; maybe we should both jump out together and swim to our freedom. But you must promise to save my life if I appear to be drowning. Then we can both be free: you from the obligation to your father and me from the governor’s curious overtures.”

  Just as her voice mesmerized Nasrosoltan the night before, these words also seemed to cast a spell over his thoughts and feelings. The commander may have been right in calling her shrewd, for she knew exactly what to say to lead Nasrosoltan further into an obsession over her, without ever making a clear pronouncement of how she felt in return.

  Overwhelmed with the hope that he and Madame Shamsi might have a future, Nasrosoltan turned his attention to deal with the potential obstacles to his yearning. The biggest problem was the governor. As he thought about it, he recalled her mentioning the governor’s overtures an
d curiously asked, “Has the governor also made an indecent proposal of some sort?”

  Madame Shamsi replied, “No, not indecent, and yes, a proposal perhaps, but not in so many words. I think he is using control over my inheritance to keep me close to him. He is a proud man and extremely suspicious. I think he was even envious of the commander at first, but it is amusing now to see that instead, it is the commander who is jealous of his father’s attention to me. Honestly, I am surprised the governor ever permitted you to escort us here to Margoon—unless, of course, he does not know!”

  Nasrosoltan assured her that, in fact, the governor did know, saying, “The commander himself had been tasked with the duty by his father, but could not, and therefore he asked me to accompany you on the expedition. The governor had agreed that I escort the group. Believe me, I was not happy that the commander had already promised the governor that I would do it before he even asked me. Don’t misunderstand me; I am delighted with the outcome since I was looking forward to spending time with you away from the others.”

  Madame Shamsi sensed an innocence in Nasrosoltan that was endearing but recognized that the commander had not been truthful to his friend.

  She said, “I am surprised to hear this. It seems much happens in the governor’s mansion that goes unnoticed in the garrison only a short distance away.”

  A puzzled Nasrosoltan inquired what she meant. She replied, “My dear Monsieur Minbashian, the governor has been visiting his family at their ancestral home in Qazvin for the past month and is not expected to return for at least another ten days. When do you think the commander even had a chance to ask him?”

  As the thunderous sounds of the waterfall crashing down upon the rocks two hundred feet below came into their earshot, this tidbit of information Madame Shamsi had revealed also delivered a deafening blow to his ego. He now saw himself as a pawn in a game he did not even know he was playing.