The King

5. Mahdolia, the Mother

Mahdolia was very young when she fell pregnant. She protected her son, the crown prince, as a lioness protects her cub. She never left him alone, afraid the other women would harm him in some way out of jealousy. Because she and the king were from the same tribe Mahdolia was the chosen wife, queen of the nation. She was the king’s confidante and she knew the country’s state secrets. When her husband took ill she became the decision-maker. The only thing standing in her way was Mirza Kabir. Now that her husband had died she tried to rule the land through her son.

Mahdolia mirrored herself on Catherine, the tsarina of Russia. Deep in her heart what she really wanted was to be the Catherine of Persia. She knew how important it was to tread a cautious path between the Russians and the British. She did not trust the British. They were cunning politicians who cared about nothing but their own interests. And the Russians weren’t much better. Over the course of two wars they had seized a couple of large cities in the province of Azerbaijan. But Mahdolia knew that if she wanted to exert any influence at all, she would have to side with one of the two great powers. She had chosen the Russians.

Mahdolia wanted to hold the shah’s allegiance and keep him out of the hands of the vizier. She had told her son on several occasions that at a suitable moment she was going to confide a secret in him. That moment had now come.

Her coach was stopped at the palace gate by the new head of the guards. ‘Who is in the coach?’

‘The queen,’ said the coachman.

The guard was about to check, but Mahdolia forestalled him. She opened the little hatch and shouted, ‘What’s going on here?’

The guard was startled by the force of her personality. He saluted and let the coach pass.

‘Mother! Your Highness!’ cried the shah as Mahdolia entered the hall of mirrors.

‘What is this all about? Is the shah a prisoner in his own palace?’ she shouted angrily.

‘What do you mean, Mother?’

‘It’s as if no one was allowed to move without the vizier’s permission. Not even the shah.’

‘No, Mother. No. It’s not as bad as all that.’

‘I don’t feel comfortable here. The walls have ears. Let’s go and sit somewhere else.’

The shah led her to his conference room.

‘You’ve ended up in a snake pit. Not only do you have enemies in England and Russia, but you have them here under your own roof as well. First of all, let me warn you again about the vizier. My informants have proof that the vizier wants to seize power. He is sending boys to England and France to study. He wants to introduce reforms that leave no room for the shah, and he wants to change the army so it owes its allegiance to him. What is the shah doing in the meantime? Signing all the papers the vizier thrusts under his nose?’

‘Mother, what you say is not true. I am aware of everything that is going on, and the vizier does nothing without my knowledge. He is like a father to me.’

‘The shah must never use such words,’ responded Mahdolia sharply.

‘Whatever he does, he does for the good of the country and for us. Mother, someone must think of the people. It shames me just to go outside. I feel as if I were king of the beggars.’

‘You are not king of the beggars. You are king of a magnificent land, king of great and extraordinary cities, majestic bazaars and castles. You live in this palace that is described in the Thousand and One Nights as a garden of mystery.’

‘Mother, the vizier wants to build factories. He wants to send children to school and to bring in machines from abroad for printing books. He’s going to outfit our soldiers in new uniforms and make sure they’re properly armed.’

‘So that’s what the vizier wants, is it? And what does the shah want?’

‘He is doing this in consultation with us,’ replied her son.

‘Was it with your permission that he reduced our allowance — and that of the princes — by half? If this is the way the shah feels, then what have I to add? What am I doing here anyway?’

‘Mother, you were going to tell me a secret.’

She sighed deeply and leaned back in her chair. The shah poured her a glass of water. She sipped slowly, tilted her head forward and said in a muted tone, ‘Son, you know history. Nader the Great, the founder of the previous dynasty, invaded India more than once. The last time the shah of India held him off with a large army and with elephants, but he lost. The shah of India knelt before Nader and handed him his crown. Thus Nader became the shah of India.’

‘Mother, this is well known. Why are you speaking so quietly?’ asked the shah with impatience.

Mahdolia continued: ‘After fifty-eight days the Indians rose up in revolt against the Persian soldiers. When the resistance became widespread and violent, Nader had more than a hundred thousand people killed. He did not give the shah of India his crown back until he had plundered India’s treasury.’

The shah sat bolt upright.

‘According to documents in our royal archive,’ his mother went on, ‘Nader the Great brought great riches with him back to Persia.’

‘What documents are these? And exactly where are they being kept?’ asked the shah, who had never shown any interest in the royal archive before. ‘Mother, what kind of riches are you speaking of?’

Mahdolia pretended to ponder the question. ‘I will mention just a few,’ she finally said. ‘Chests full of gold and Indian jewels, a royal bed inlaid with precious green stones, a chair in the form of a great peacock, adorned with gems of many different colours. Sacks filled with large Indian diamonds. And two separate boxes containing the largest diamonds in the world, nestled on soft fabric of dark purple. One diamond is called the Sea of Light and the other is called the Mountain of Light. There are also a number of small figurines: elephants, peacocks, snakes and cows, all pure gold and inlaid with little precious stones.’

‘Whatever happened to these treasures?’ asked the shah with excitement.

‘They are in our possession,’ said Mahdolia calmly.

‘In our possession?’ he gasped.

‘Lower your voice. The documents I spoke of contain a binding agreement which stipulates that the shah can do nothing with these divine gifts. You may see them, but you may not sell them except in cases of emergency. If the British or the Russians knew this, they would scour our land and plunder it to lay their hands on these riches. It is the work of the greatest Indian artists and metalsmiths who ever lived. The spirit of India is preserved in these treasures. Your forefathers took this secret to their graves. It is a secret you will have to carry too, but your heart must be big enough.’

‘What good is all this if we cannot make use of it?’ asked the shah.

‘I am only passing on the words of your late father. I am but a messenger. The late king said, “My son! The treasures of India are a wonder that must remain buried underground until our land is stable and powerful once again. Only then may you let them be seen. Otherwise they will crumble and disappear.”’

Shah Naser was unable to stay in his seat. ‘Mother, where are they? Who else knows about this?’

‘There must always be three living people who know about the treasure.’

‘And who is the third person?’ asked the shah.

‘Sheikh Aqasi, your father’s counsellor.’

‘Why that man?’

‘He has magical powers, and he always helped your father and me when it came to making difficult decisions. He can read the future. Someday you will make use of his strength, his honesty and his insight.’

‘Enough about the sheikh, Mother. Just tell me where the jewels are.’

His mother took a small Quran from her bag and said solemnly, ‘My son, place your hand on this holy book and swear that you will protect the jewels as if they were your own eyes.’

The shah hastily did as she bade him. ‘I swear.’

‘The treasures are here in this palace,’ Mahdolia then revealed.

‘What? In this palace?’

‘This palace was built by the first king of our dynasty,’ she went on. ‘He built a secret cellar beneath the existing cellar. An invisible underground tunnel runs from that cellar to the mountains.’

‘Here, beneath the cellar of this palace? May I see the treasures?’ asked the shah impatiently.

‘Not now. It must be dark, and there can be no one else in the palace.’

‘But Mother, please!’ he cajoled. His patience had run out.

‘It is a man’s job. I will ask Sheikh Aqasi to take you to the cellar tomorrow evening,’ said Mahdolia, and with that she took her leave of her son.

Once she was gone the shah’s cat stuck her head out from behind a curtain and padded up to him silently.