The Shah locked himself in the inner chamber to await Narcissus. It was a sad formality that the king should be sequestered in his quarters until the Great Black Eunuch arrived with tidings. The Shah felt a twinge of guilt. He should have been more lenient the last time he visited Gold Dust. She had asked his permission to allow Rebekah to be present at the time of delivery. But although he had begun to appreciate Rebekah’s candor and, at times, invited her to discuss simple matters, he could not permit the bad luck of a bundle woman to taint the crown prince’s first hours.

“Our son,” he had replied, “will become king. He must never find out about his mother’s lineage.”

The harshness of his words had thrust Gold Dust into labor.

The Shah went out to scan the skies. The magi had assured him that on the day of his son’s birth the skies would be clear and the sun bright. Clouds roamed above. The air was stagnant. Peacocks shrieked in the gardens.

Rebekah locked herself in the stable and went through the ritual of decking Venus. “Soon,” she whispered, “you’ll not be the only male in the family.”

The donkey whined and spat in the air.

Rebekah pressed her ear to the straw floor, awaiting the blast of cannons that would announce the Shah’s acknowledgment of the birth and finally make known to the public the gender of the child. Her disappointment at not being allowed to attend upon her daughter had not lasted long. She had learned to accept the scraps fate tossed her way. Why complain? Gold Dust was the favorite of the Shah. And she was giving birth to Rebekah’s grandson, heir to the throne.

In anticipation of the royal birth, the town criers sang poems and flowery prose; the inhabitants of the city kissed one another on both cheeks and on the tip of the nose in a show of endless happiness. Soleiman the Agile and his acrobats blocked the alleys with a new addition to their show. Adults gaped and children cried in fear of a Giant Man who held thirteen acrobats on his head, shoulders, and arms. The Ancient Zoroastrian abandoned her house of bougainvilleas and joined in the revelry, her eyes twinkling with the secret knowledge that a new marvel that would change the course of history would be born to a daughter of the Jewish Quarter.

19

Push!” the harem cried. “Push harder!”

The Shah had made it clear that if the favorite died at childbirth, no one would be spared.

Eunuchs parted the circle of women and handed the midwives pots of hot water and muslin. The palace dwarf, his mouth painted in an eternal smile, his cheeks dripping ruby tears, his hat chiming with silver bells, danced around Pearl Hall.