~By Stephanie Piro
It was a glorious sunset. Erik stood on the tiled portico of the palace he had designed for the Shah and admired this natural work of art. He leaned back against a pillar, arms crossed, and took it in. Soon it would be another dark night. The Shah had his whims, and darkness often had him requesting that Erik perform some feat or other for him to keep him amused. Even worse were the demands put upon him by the little Sultana, the Shah’s favorite and youngest sister. She could do no wrong, according to the Shah, so when she commanded that Erik show her how to throw the Punjab lasso and then put it to use strangling her handmaidens, Erik knew his time in Mazanderan was coming to an end. He knew through his source and only friend, Nadir, the Daroga or Persian Police Chief, that the Shah would soon have Erik assassinated. He wanted him silenced so he would never design such an incredible palace for any other head of state.
As Nadir was the one contracted to carry out the assassination, they had come up with a plan of escape. Nadir was tired of the Shah’s orders and mood changes, as well. He had great admiration for the masked man he had been sent two years previously to find. He had traced the infamous conjurer to a fair in Nijni-Novgorod and brought him back to the court. Erik was talented in such a variety of ways that being relegated to waiting on the Little Sultana and having to watch her strangle several lovely young women was depressing him and making him sullen and ill-tempered. One had to watch oneself at the court. There were eyes and ears everywhere. Someone was always ready to gain favor with the Shah by spilling secrets.
So, as the sunset faded, Erik was about to turn and hide himself away in his quarters, when he heard a lovely sound. He peered around the column and saw Amalia, one of the Sultana’s most beautiful handmaidens, filling a pitcher with rose water. She was singing softly to herself, her dark hair spilling down her bare back as she bent to her task. She wore a halter top and long, gauzy skirt. She had a pale lavender and gold scarf twined over her hair, and as it fell over her shoulders, the gold glinted in the waning sparkle of the sun.
Erik’s heart sank. He knew the Little Sultana had tired of Amalia, and even though she had at one time been the favorite of her many servants, she was planning a demonstration of her Punjab lasso technique for her brother and some visiting dignitaries. She had decided that sacrificing Amalia would make for a great show.
Amalia had also always been kind to Erik. She did not fear his masked countenance as did many of the other girls. If he were honest, he would admit to himself that his heart raced a bit more quickly when he saw her. Hearing her sweet voice stirred something in him and drove him into action. She didn’t know it…but they both had one foot on the scaffold.
“Amalia,” he hissed at her.
She started. “Oh Erik, I didn’t see you there. You frightened me.” She laughed, a lilting laugh. She drew her scarf to half cover her face, but her eyes smiled at him.
“Come closer,” he urged. “Please. Don’t be afraid of me. I want to help you.”
She looked at him, and he could now see confusion in her eyes. He held his hand out and after a moment she took it and let the tall, skeletal, yet mesmerizingly attractive man draw her to him. They stood in the darkening gloom. “Listen to me. Don’t go near the Little Sultana tonight. Send word that you are unwell.”
“But why? She will be expecting me.” The scarf slipped away from her charming face as she gazed up at him, puzzled.
“You know why. Deep down in your heart of hearts, you knew it was only a matter of time, didn’t you?” he whispered to her, holding her close.
“No,” she gasped.
“Hush.” He pulled her closer, surprised by the boldness of this endeavor. “Just listen to me. I have it on the best authority that tomorrow night will be your last.”
“I knew this time would come. I tried my best. But she is a monster. I was only keeping the monster at bay. I saw her take girls from her serving staff and then never see them again. I never wanted to watch, but I know some who had. It haunted them for many hours. Almost drove some of the women mad with fear. I tried to pretend it was all rumors, but you are right, Erik. In my heart of hearts, I did know.” Tears filled her large dark eyes and spilled over, down her cheeks.
Erik reached out impulsively and stroked her face. “No, tomorrow night will not be your last. It will be the first. The first of many nights with the taste of freedom upon them. You will come with me. We will leave all this horror behind us. I will be your protector from now on. Will you agree to come away with me and the Daroga?”
“Oh yes, Erik. But you say the Daroga will come with us? Is he not working for the Shah?”
“He wants to escape this vile kingdom as well. We have a plan and swift Arabian horses to carry us away. You will ride with me. Know that no harm will come to you as long as I am alive.”
“I know this, Erik. I think you were sent to me to be my protecting angel. I trust you with my life. But you must trust me, as well. I have heard women whisper about your face. Will you not show me your true self, Erik? Show me without fear, for I have nothing but respect for you, and now the greatest of debts will I owe to you.” She reached up to touch his mask.
Erik grasped her two wrists in his strong hands, alarming her. “The time will come for that, Amalia. It will come in my own time. When I feel that you will honestly see me for whom and what I am and not for the misfortune of my birth, for something I had no control over.”
He said this so passionately that Amalia tugged her hands away from his and threw her arms around him. She was only a girl, seventeen at most. Perhaps she would learn to see him, to see beyond his face. He knew he was a little in love with her. It made him more gallant than he had ever been in his life.
At sunrise, Erik and Amalia sat upon a swift black stallion, and Nadir upon a grey one, and they made their way as fast as they could, pausing only to cover their tracks with an unfortunate whose body they came across and quickly dressed in some of Erik’s recognizable clothes for the search party to find and return with. The Shah would sooner believe Erik dead than to think he was out there, somewhere, sharing his secrets with his many enemies. The Little Sultana was only slightly disappointed, and the following evening displayed her skill with a girl far less lucky than Amalia.
