Journal Entry 21

For three days I willed my body to function as it once did.

I glanced at my figure in a mirror and found the face that stared back at me was no longer a face I could claim to know. Within a matter of months I had aged drastically. My once muscled body was a shell of its former self. My weight loss occurred with such rapidity that my skin sagged on my frame. The shock of seeing my reflection should have been more overwhelming but I no longer cared for my outward appearance. I stared at the blank-eyed man who stood before me and began to take inventory of all that had changed during my incarceration. My skin was drawn; my complexion was no longer robust but sallow and sickly. My hands had taken on a skeletal appearance and no longer had strength within their grasp. I opened my mouth only to notice that my gums had receded from my teeth and had taken on an almost blanched color. It was when a sob suddenly escaped past lips that I realized I had been silently crying.

Thoughts of the events that had lead to this moment - to all of this - raced through my mind and I was bombarded with emotions. I could find no one to curse other than myself for all of my follies, for daring to take risks when I should have known better, and most of all for caring for the survival of a man I was unsure deserved my trust.

I am not quite sure how long I stood there looking at myself, lost in a daze of self-pity, loathing, and fear before I realized that I had to exert some sort of control over my circumstances. I could not allow myself to slip into the dark abyss of pity because doing so would only render all of my life's work meaningless. What good would it be to allow a man such as Erik his freedom when I doomed myself to an uglier fate? I decided then that my story, my journey along this mortal coil would not end within those palatial walls.

Having long been interested in the science of the human body, I knew that only slow and deliberate exercises in movement and agility could repair my muscles. It was from this basis that I began to work the varying muscles of my body. I set about regaining my strength through nourishment.

In the time of my captivity, I was only allowed a scant amount of food. My meals were never given to me on a regular basis with days often slipping by without any sort of nourishment. My body no longer could be trusted with devouring and digesting nutrients without causing it some irreparable harm. I knew if I ate the large rations my stomach cried for, I could eat more than my body would allow. The fear I had was the possibility of making make myself ill with the risk of going into shock. Yet another concern was the consumption of too much liquid. I used every once of my will to avoid allowing my thirst to take a hold of my senses. I had seen what massive amounts of water could do to a body through the various uses of torture with which it was employed. Prisoners were sometimes forced to consume buckets of water within a short amount of time that lead to deterioration of their bodies and a passing into unconsciousness that often lead to death.

And so I went about rehabilitating my body. In an effort to expedite the process I conservatively slept and during the waking hours I practiced exercises that were taught during my years in military school. Everything from meditation to repetitions of arm conditioning was done in an effort to regain some of my former strength.

No more than a week passed when the Shah finally appeared at my chamber door as I attempted to eat a light lunch. I was still recovering the full function of my limbs, so with a stumble I climbed to my feet to greet him. He bade me to take my place once again, which was odd for a man who required all that persons stand at the utmost silence and stillness before he ever took his seat. His sudden appearance at my door and the courteousness that he granted me gave me a feeling of apprehension. The Shah was never one to be trusted for he had no trust in those around him. The behavior of the Shah was cyclical in that in his attempts to avoid being made to look like a fool he often struck out at both his apparent friends as well as his enemies. No one, from those in the highest positions in his court to the begging vagabond had reason to believe the Shah's word. Unable to eat any longer, I turned my attention to the Shah who was studying me with intense curiosity. His eyes held the glimmer of both sardonic delight and ferocity. At the time I believed my emaciated body was the focus of his attention but as the seconds stretched on I began to feel ill at ease under his heavy gaze. I was asked how I was fairing and if I was able to walk without the assistance of others. I answered in the affirmative, opting to keep my answers concise and succinct lest I provoke his anger.

The Shah made little conversation and quickly came to the point of his visit. I was no longer to stay within the palace. His brother, another high ranking official within the Persian army, was in need of a courier. I was to leave within a day to assist the general in protecting the borders from encroaching foreigners.

The Shah's great-grandfather, Fat'h Ali Shah, many years before had been forced into signing treaties transferring great portions of Persian land to the Baltic country to the east. These treaties began a time of turmoil within Persia, with my country conceding ownership of large tracts of land to the English speaking Europeans of Great Britain. The Shah, eager not to lose further land to infidels or to the Babis and Bahais, whom the Shah greatly hated after their botched assassination attempt on his life, was in the process of reinforcing posts on the outskirts of the kingdom.

I was told my former post as daroga had given me invaluable tools needed to discreetly observe others without detection. The job assigned to me was an assistant, to do the general's bidding, and participate in skirmishes when they arose. In essence I had been demoted to a messenger. I was to be no more than a slave but I was told how lucky I was to still be breathing. My new post was non-negotiable and I was to begin my travels promptly the next day.

The job of gathering provisions for the journey had already taken place. All that I would need would be waiting for me with the caravan that would take me to the general's encampment.

The Shah did not foresee my need for anything else and I was not to stray far from my room. A guard was given the task of following me as insurance that I would appear before the general within a few weeks time. My movements as well as all conversations would be reported to the Shah. Despite having my life spared, my duty to my country was only the beginning of my recompense to the Shah for my inattentiveness to the Little Sultana and to Erik. My atonement for my prior sins would depend solely upon the effectiveness of my servitude. The duration of my post was yet to be determined, however I was told to expect to be away no less than three years. I stood in front of the Shah unwavering and never looking away. Knowing his penchant for cruelty I was sure that my fate was destined for much worse.

I bowed to take my leave of his presence when the Shah began to speak once again but with a cold menace underlying his tone.

During the time of the cleansing, my family was taken out of their homes as part of my punishment. In the ensuing chaos, one of my brothers and a niece were killed. My niece, a young, beautiful girl of only ten years had refused to leave her familial home. Crying uncontrollably and unable to overcome her emotions, she ran back towards their front entrance. In her way stood an imperial guard who had no patience for her tantrums. He deftly unsheathed his sword as she approached and ran the blade into her stomach.

My brother, Hadi, was packing the family's belongings into a cart when he heard the shriek that escaped his daughter's lips as she lay dying in a pool of her own blood. He ran into the courtyard and beheld his young daughter gasping for air. I knew how much my brother cherished his family. Without being told I knew he too had perished in trying to protect little Nasrin. I knew this because I knew the type of man he was. Perhaps one could say that the stress of the eviction played into his reasoning or it was the fact that our once proud family name meant less than the name of a slave but I knew my brother. In his anguish, Hadi grasped the dagger attached at his waist and prepared to do battle with the guard. With one swift turn of his body, the guard fended off my brother but in the process sliced off his ear. My brother did not see the guard step behind him as he fell to his knees, clutching at the area where his ear once was. Only gurgles emitted from my brother as the guard's sword penetrated the back of his neck and cleanly made its way through to the front of my brother's throat.

Hadi's wife and remaining children quickly left the home but according to the Shah he knew not the direction in which they were headed. I was at a loss for where my sister and the remainder of her brood might go. My family had numerous friends and acquaintances but after the brutality with which my brother was met I doubted anyone would have wanted to somehow become embroiled.

The Shah related the story in such an uncaring manner that I was unable to at first comprehend what he had told me.

And with that, he left me to contemplate my loss and I fell to the stone floor.