stables, and we followed at our leisure.
At the palace, the Shah Zaman and Shahryar Zahd were waiting for us, in a room well heaped with gifts they wished us to convey for them to the Khakhan Kubilai. There were tightly rolled qali of the highest quality, and caskets of jewels, and platters and ewers of exquisitely worked gold, and shimshirs of Neyriz steel in gem- encrusted scabbards, and for the Khakhan’s women polished looking glasses also of Neyriz steel, and cosmetics of al-kohl and hinna, and leather flasks of Shiraz wine, and tenderly wrapped cuttings of the palace garden’s most prized roses, and also cuttings of seedless banj plants and of the poppies from which teryak is made. The most striking of all the gifts was a board on which some court artist had painted the portrait of a man, a man grim and ascetic of mien, but blind, his eyeballs being all white. It was the only delineation of any animate being I had ever seen in a Muslim country.
The Shah said, “It is a likeness of the Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessing be upon him). There are many Muslims in the Khakhan’s realms, and many have no idea what the Prophet (blessing and peace be his) looked like in life. You will take this to show them.”
“Excuse me,” said Uncle Mafio, with uncharacteristic hesitancy. “I thought lifelike images were forbidden by Islam. And an image of the very Prophet himself … ?”
The Shahryar Zahd explained, “It does not live until the eyes are painted in. You will engage some artist to do that just before you present the picture to the Khan. It requires only two brown dots painted onto the eyeballs.”
The Shah added, “And the picture itself is painted in magic tinctures which in a few months will begin to fade, until the picture totally disappears. Thus it cannot become an image of worship, like those you Christians revere, which are forbidden because they are unnecessary to our more civilized religion.”
“The portrait,” said my father, “will be a gift unique among all the gifts the Khan is forever receiving. Your Majesties have been more than generous in your tribute.”
“I should have liked to send him also some virgin Shiraz girls and Kashan boys,” mused the Shah. “But I have tried to do that before, and somehow they never arrive at his court. Virgins must be difficult of transport.”
“I just hope we can transport all
“Oh, yes, with no trouble,” said the Wazir Jamshid. “Any one of your new camels will easily carry all that burden, and carry it at the pace of eight farsakhs in a day, and for three days between drinks of water, if that be necessary. Assuming, of course, that you have a competent camel-puller.”
“Which now you do have,” said the Shah. “Another gift of mine, and this one is for you, gentlemen.” He signaled to the guard at the door and the guard went out. “A slave which I myself only recently acquired, bought for me by one of my court eunuchs.”
My father murmured, “Your Majesty’s generosity continues to abound, and to astound.”
“Ah, well,” said the Shah modestly. “What is one slave between friends? Even a slave which cost me five hundred dinars?”
The guard returned with that slave, who immediately fell to the floor in salaam, and cried shrilly, “Allah be praised! We meet again, good masters!”
“Sia budela!” exclaimed Uncle Mafio. “That is the reptile
“The creature Nostril!” exclaimed the wazir. “Really, my Lord Shah, how did you come to acquire this excrescence?”
“I think the eunuch fell enamored of him,” the Shah said sourly. “But I have not. So he is yours, gentlemen.”
“Well … ,” said my father and uncle, uncomfortable and unwilling to give offense.
“I have never known a slave more rebellious and odious,” said the Shah, dropping any pretense of lauding his gift. “He curses and reviles me in half a dozen languages which I do not comprehend, except that the word pork occurs in all of them.”
“He has also been insolent to me,” said the Shahryar. “Fancy a slave criticizing the sweetness of his mistress’s voice.”
“The Prophet (on whom be all peace and blessing),” said the creature Nostril, as if ruminating aloud to himself. “The Prophet called that house accursed where a woman’s voice could be heard outside its doors.”
The Shahryar glared venomously at him, and the Shah said, “You hear? Well, the eunuch who bought him unbidden has been pulled asunder by four wild horses. The eunuch was expendable, having been born under this roof to one of my other slaves, and having cost nothing. But this son of a bitch shaqal cost five hundred dinars, and should be more usefully disposed of. You gentlemen need a camel-puller, and he claims to be one.”
“Verily!” cried the son of a bitch shaqal. “Good masters, I grew up with camels, and I love them like my sisters—”
“That,” said my uncle, “I believe.”
“Answer me this, slave!” Jamshid barked at him. “A camel kneels to be loaded. It groans and complains mightily at each new weight of the loading. How do you know when to load it no further?”
“That is easy, Wazir Mirza. When it
Jamshid shrugged. “He knows camels.”
“Well … ,” mumbled my father and uncle.
The Shah said flatly, “You take him with you, gentlemen, or you stand by and watch while he goes to the vat.”
“The vat?” inquired my father, who knew not what that was.
“Let us take him, Father,” I said, speaking up for the first time. I did not say it with enthusiasm, but I could not have watched again an execution by boiling oil, even of this obnoxious vermin.
“Allah will reward you, young Master Mirza!” cried the vermin. “Oh, ornament upon perfection, you are as compassionate as the old-time darwish Bayazid, who while traveling found an ant caught in the lint of his navel, and went hundreds of farsakhs back to his starting place, to return that abducted ant to its home nest, and—”
“Be silent!” bellowed my uncle. “We will take you, for we would rid our friend the Shah Zaman of your reeking presence. But I warn you, putridity, you will enjoy precious little compassion!”
“I am content!” cried the putridity. “The words of vituperation and beatings bestowed by a sage are more to be valued than the flattery and flowers lavished by the ignorant. And furthermore—”
“Gesu,” my uncle said wearily. “You will be beaten not on your buttocks but on your clattering tongue. Your Majesty, we will depart at dawn tomorrow, and take this stench speedily out of your vicinity.”
Early the next morning, Karim and our other two servants dressed us in good sturdy traveling garb in the Persian style, and helped us pack our personal belongings, and presented us with a large hamper of fine foods and wines and other delicacies, prepared by the palace cooks so that the viands would keep well and sustain us for a good part of our way. Then all three servants indulged in a performance of wild grief, as if we had been their lifelong beloved masters and were leaving them forever. They prostrated themselves in salaams and tore off their tulbands and beat their bare heads on the floor, and did not desist until my father distributed bakhshish among them, at which they saw us off with broad smiles and commendations to the protection of Allah.
At the palace stable, we found that Nostril had, without command or beating or supervision, got our riding camels saddled and the pack camel loaded. He had even carefully wrapped and arranged all the gifts being sent by the Shah, so they would not fall or jar against each other or be dirtied by the dust of the road, and, so far as we could determine, he had not stolen a single item from among them.
Instead of complimenting him, my uncle said sternly, “You scoundrel, you think to please us now and cozen us into leniency, so that we will be easygoing when you regress into your natural sloth. But I warn you, Nostril, we will
The slave interrupted, but obsequiously. “A good master makes a good servant, and gets from him service and obedience in direct proportion to the respect and trust accorded him.”
“From all report,” said my father, “you have not very well served your recent owners—the Shah, the slave dealer …”
“Ah, good Master Mirza Polo, I have been too long pent in cities and households, and my spirit gets crabbed by confinement. I was made by Allah to be a wanderer. Once I learned that you gentlemen are journeyers, I bent every effort to get myself expelled from this palace and attached to your karwan.”
