as it more fitting for me to abandon my prayers, spring to my feet and open to keep ting in til I’d finisced my prayers in a someracted state. I opeerfly, Stork and Black. I gave a cry of joy and embraced Butterfly.
“Alas, e!” I lamented, burying my o do t from us? hey killing us?”
Eaced from time to time in every master painter over to separate from one another.
“e safely take refuge here for days.”
“e t.”
“I, too, grow anxious,” I said. “For I have heard such rumors as well.”
to turists, claiming t tery about t Effendi and late Enis book.
Blaquired as to ures I’d drae’s book.
“t one I made an. It y of underground demon on to ters in tesoryteller and I ’s o Enis ttomans.”
“Is t all?” asked Black.
old ’s all,” to ter ice stealing; in a roll of paper untouc before us tists like a ming a o tens.
I reized till under rations I’d rescued from t deign to ask ered my ed tterfly, Stork and I eaco tures oryteller, may in peace. Aftere o ts even realize t a horse had been drawn.
“You teacch.
“I ,” I said.
“ about te’s book?”
“I didn’t make t oher.”
“Based on tyle of t’s beeermi you’re t,” er Osman his clusion.”
“But I yle saying t of pride to ter test tastes. o prove my innoce. For me, yle han being a murderer.”
“You inct quality t distinguisers and thers,” said Black.
I smiled at arted to relate t I’m sure you all knoened ily to an, in sultation reasurer, sougion to to tter of Master Osman’s to tesay in to Black’s miraculous admittao te Quarters for tually examining tive books. ts in all our lives s , even long afterterfly mournfully gripped e o t of ter artists, ed to be a miniaturist.
“Could you appreciate yood fortune as you gazed at t ers for days on end er Osman at your side?” I asked Black. “Did alent and knowledge?”
“t ers yle,” said Black. “aug of ”style“ isn’t sometist selects of ion, but is determined by tist’s past and ten memories. faults, s, at oime suc be estranged from ters, ics’ or “style,” because ters o fools ings, tupid and, of course, a muc place.“t t Black fidently believed in w he new breed of fools.
“as Master Osman able to explain an’s books?” I asked.
“It o tings her
and beloved to you all, see t es all of you you eaco yle of your oelier as a over all of you, you fot ions, ts and differe fell outside tandard forms. Only er Osman’s eyes hose years.”
“My mot in peace, elligent t I ears, determined never again to return to ted not only by Master Osman’s beatings, but by table masters and by timidated us ion, my dearly departed mot types of people in tings, forever dorodden, sings of killing tunate ones for killing ter group t to tell to anybody—tings ime eo develop ing, to fato make friends, to identify eo sense plots being c me en to add, to paier t able to draree er Osmaears, forests er angrily striking me in t see t ttoms of pages, ook up a mirror and placed it before t time. to mine, ified takes t magically appeared in ture t I never fot eitual. ter a nig ed because ised me enderly t I passionately kneurist. Nay, it I w horse.”
“e,” Black o Stork and picture e. Did you ever see t last picture?”
“It is not could be accepted by Our Sultan, illuminators like us bound to ters or by Muslims bound to t.
My statement made ork began turning times, simply to make t to ted out t fall and could searc if to ty years ago, before ts of tasered eagerly, but ire o t even boto searc.
It pleased me t Butterfly if evidence implig me were found, oo, would
join tork Master Osman urn us over to torturers, and maintai support one anot be united in fronting treasurer. I sensed Black only motivated by to give S by finding eo set Ottoman miniaturists on ters by paying tan’s money in order to finise’s book in imitation of t only sacrilegious, but ridiculous). I also uood, ainty, t at t of tork’s desire to be rid of us and even of Master Osman, for of being or and (since everyone guessed t Master Osman preferred Butterfly) o try anyto increase arily fused. Listening to ted at lengt, like a man o give ition to tion to endear myself to Stork and Black. Leading tal, I took to a frig co find anyt. trace of ttles, ts and pans and t o prepare food for ttempted to up tly room covered in ud, debris and t of dogs and cats. As alrong of nower, now darker.
“You searc you couldn’t find my reasure,” I said.
Out of , I used to s used to be a ove emerged, I lifted up its iron lid o tove. I s ork leapt for. to open t t as I uro tork bounded after us on hin legs.
one poued a pair of ring trousers, my red under of my underss, my silk s, my straigarily at a loss. Out of ty-tian gold s, pieces of gold leaf t I’d stolen from t years, my sket gold leaf pictures—some of e ring from my dear mote pens and brushes.
“If I ruly a murderer as you suspect,” I said upid pride, “ture treasury, not things.”
“ork.
“hese
gold pieces t I’ve spent my entire life colleg. I t about of tc. If t last picture would be here.”
It ake to utter t sentenevert t at ease and no longer afraid t I’d strarust as well?
At time, lessness; no, it t my illuminator friends, t my sketcures. In trutted of panily teries of a man we aimlessly could be exposed so easily.
“er, “ e to a sensus about orture if Master Osman o turn us over any forewarning.”
A of tork and Butterfly aring at tures in my sketdifference; in fact, trong urge to look at ture—I could very ture I’d paia blissful memory. Black joined us. For t t illustration relieved me.
“Could tork mucer. as even t t Allaoork knoers? ters of ly recite t masters used to enemies of painting rating painters to Day. Until t magical moment, terfly t no equal!”
“he seeing?” Black said naively.
“t equal, it’s evil’ama ve’l basiru’nun means,“ Butterfly said and tinued:“…nor are t.
t are not equal, nor are the dead.“
I sant, tes of Elegant Effendi, Enisoryteller brotonigened as I? Nobody moved for a time. Stork ill seemed not to see ty I’d paiill staring at it!
“I’d to paint Judgment Day,” said Stork. “tion of tion of ty from t. t depict th?”
In our youtoget our faces from our ables, just as ters o rest talking about any topic t o enter our minds. Back t as look at one anotted. For our eyes uroant spot outside an open sure if it ement of recalling sometiful from my ices I felt at t moment because I read t t nig o speak, I gre of some danger, and as noto mind, I simply said t ter? I’d most of all to depict t by ten and by our mistakes. O bear, as ransgressions and sins! treat us ears I sedly—per at ticeso protect ourselves and to avoid exposing our sensitivities.
I t my tears e, but uo restrain myself, I began to cry i sobs. As I , I could se eaity, devastation and sorroyle in Our Sultan’s o ire lives ten—yes, in fact, ture o an end, and if t ttle us and finisan’s torturers as I cried, sobbed and sigio listen to tter of t of my mind se t tually g about. to ent vaguely guilty for my tears, w once genuine and false.
Butterfly came up beside me, placed roked my ed me y and guilt. I couldn’t see , for some reason, I incorrectly t oo down.
e recalled arted our orn ao suddenly begin a neings day, t gifts from treasurer, and t bae, running
t first, only alked later, ime afterime a it, during our early apprenticesion, I fot t I’d just been g and began to talk and laughem.
e reminisced about er ms ove in t room of t er. e recalled an old “master,” may in peace, ree during t time trees t t striking us, ime: “Not out t tire atelier, of tice c basity of to , our fault) t t ors depicted ttoman army oo S of starvation by occupying Eresomacful manner, alked about ogeto and toget beautiful of ty-year-old pasion of s, strengted ceiling orion in ation of tan’s ing lodge. ter ms s steam soften ted being separated from er pelled us to travel to distant places to serve as journeymen. For a time, tness of my dear Butterfly io a quickly , ing truck opped o examine a blemiser making a fe motions, uro tern, moving ared out of to tance, losing side again, o my eyes—as I er do to otices knoe ime doesn’t flo dream.
I ILL BE CALLED A MURDERERYou’d fotten about me, you? ting stronger and stronger, ible for me. At times, I restrain myself only effort, and I’m afraid t train in my voice times, I let myself go pletely unc’s remble, beads of s colley fore otle wurn, will furnish new clues.
Yet I’m so very tent y-five years of memories of ties, but of ties and ting. tting ear-filled eyes as y of bygone days, t recalls harem women.
I’ve taken tories of ters of S in ory of tamerlay years ago, Jio t imurid king among torious turkmen o t; finally, at Astarabad, ed Ibraamerlane’s son; ook Gan a tress of . Acc to torian from Kirman, tation, not only to Persia, but to tofore ued poamerlane, o Byzantium for ury, caused sucempest of destru t pandemonium reigned over tress of . torian Abu Said reminds t of tamerlane in tresses ively culled o ilessly separated miniaturist from miniaturist and cruelly forced most of to serve as appreo er illuminators. At t in ory, urions from tried to repel ted toress, to turists among ts in ting terrifying culmination of te . s tists, declaring oer anotten, and tors, all of o do anyt recall their former days of bliss.
e too, like melanc ts of fur-lined caftans and purses full of mo tan to us in reciprocation for ted boxes, mirrors and plates, embellisric-paper ures, amusing albums, playing cards and books s of t day tle? ter t ting , but o t fail. urists ire lives to draricate designs on castle iny and teppe grasses used to fill empty spaces? ers i in God’s bestoalent and ability upon some artists and patiend pination upon oters, some of ill otent upon foisting off a spinster dauged, tempted to resurrect tteails of t id early mastership years.
Do you remember tugue into o t side if t, and to t side if t left; tist who
laugo ling and mumbling “patience, patience, patience” uagenarian master gilder o tices doairs and claimed t red ink applied to topped aging; ter ice or even randomly stopped anyone passing by to test tency of paint upon ter ely filled; and tly artist used to collect t used in gilding? hey all?
of tices’ bodies and t tossed aside, and t tices dulled by playing “s masters so t get mixed up, t rattle of coffeepots aboil in ttens born to our tabby cats eac so us so, in idle moments, ice our artistry teel-or, terrent to tire akes; and uals t surrouakes?
e also agreed t it an to alloer miniaturists to came to us from tcer evenings after of oil lamps and dles. Laugears in our eyes, rembling and could take up s broug er ices. e talked about te pages rendered by ted Black Memi, or before Master Osman, discovered in y for days after folio fou mattress and use for aps in ternoons.
e talked about and ook pride in and to take out and look at noed due to tself, but due to its too be used in a polite rendition.
trayal of Our Exalted Prop’s be and tickliso op of a mi; a picture of suc even c tremble fully as if tickled. I explaiaken to tains by delicately and respectfully arranging tastefully draraitist, furroo ter trils to one final, desperate breatting to
ting errifying aura of mystery.
As if ttable and unattainable memories, fully discussed our favorite ses of love and magnifit ear-indug subtleties. Isolated and mysterious gardens arry nigrees, fantastic birds, frozen time…e imagined bloody battles as immediate and alarming as our oered armor, beautiful men stabbing eaced-eye, bocs from barely open ty boys ed, and to ory. Just like t togeto memory, but o legend as to avoid being drao a realm of ten—even more terrifying t our favorite ses of death.
t to e to mind an duped Deo killing time of t legend, notion. If you ed milk, you simply milked a goat and drank; you’d say “ it and ride aemplate “evil” and Satan y of murdering your o, iful, bot occurred at nig palace garden ly illuminated cypresses and colorful spring flowers.
, em, em tled for t toucem beat in tearful anguis s of the sword.
something?
tis patter on ter Osman, ray and kill us, or we sray and kill him.”
e ri I said rang absolutely true; . Still pag, and panicked by t t everyt to its former state, I told myself tell tory of Afrasiyab’s murder of Siyavuso c. But t’s a betrayal suc t t s be told by Firdusi in told by Nizami in in ts in earful realization of tity of truding in his
bedroom c resort, saying t s to perform boy attending o fetcer, soap, clot uanding t er o gated items. Once aloask is to lock t tors found to enact t: -bellied.
I paced to and fro, my as in a dream, my voice take.
Just t themselves, maligning me.
to take out my legs t tle and fig it hem.
One of t on my knees. Anot arm.
Black pressed a ko eacuated betomad sat on me. I ely immobilized. All of us unned and breat I remembered:My late uncle in t of raiding caravans and , realizing I kneelligent and refined, o pick a fig t le, and after quickly pinning me, are into my eyes, t a string of saliva ing it to gained mass, and ly eained as I tried to avoid it by turning my o t and to t.
Blae not to picture? fess!
I felt suffog regret and anger for t, I’d said everyt, una to an agreement before fled, uo imagihis level.
Black teo cut my t if I didn’t produce t picture.
rut of me also t t t for me to do. If to an agreement among turned me over to treasurer as ter Osman, out anot or anot tain ? er place t he?
ted t my t, and I sa once ceal. tting my skin? they slapped me again.
I t t siicese evidently applied paint in t manner, dreeadiest line and made t illuminations. I loved treme envy. I smiled upon my beloved brethren.
One of t you to kno t o us. I could not but respond in kind to t it be kno I do t illuminating. Find my pages and see for yourselves.
o beat me angrily, as if I’d erained of indecision. Black t t angry ion io take t tire world.
Black removed an object from . In an instant, it to my fad made a gesture as if to plu into my eyes.
“Eig Bier of masters, uood t everyto an end , and o paint in ao , God’s exquisite darkness sloist to tabriz as a present by Sao Our Sultan’s fat legendary Book of Kings. At first, Master Osman o determine . But today, o see t logic be. After Master Osman uood t Our Sultao rait made in tyle of ters and t you all, o eaigreasury—in imitation of Bio blind you, to ruin ter Osmaablis tire life, ?”
“ you blind me, in to find a place for ourselves er Osman truly goes blind, or passes a ting, embrag our faults and individuality u possess a style, be ourselves. No, even if o agree to paint like ters, reasoning t only in tan, o replace us. No one us anymore, we shall only incur
pity. t into our o us miniaturists, wed preacher.”
Altried at lengto persuade t it e against us to quarrel, it o no avail. tention of listening to me. t or y, torture and t everyto do for years to e as it always had.
Black teo do didn’t please t became evident t somebody else y and Our Sultan learsoever? terrified boto Master Osman and oo pull back ted in holding before my eyes.
Black fell into a panic, as if taking taken sides against ilt my o escape truggle over to my eyes.
Everyt t I couldn’t make out . I felt a s limited pain in my rig a aken root I could still clearly see t time into my left eye. aken ts before, and iculous no tlessly peed my eye, I lay dead still, t tion. to spread over my entire ceased my eyes in turn. It certai ion stopped and t upon my arms eased.
I began to scream, nearly from t from terror of pre o me.
At first, I se my not only me at ease, but t us together.
Even so, as my screaming persisted, t my eyes h a needle.
I yet blind. till see tcerror and sorroill see t once pleased and alarmed me. “Unhing once more, I implore you.”
“Quickly, tell us,” said Black. “ up Effendi t nighen we’ll unhand you.”
“I urning Effendi accosted me. ated. I pitied first. But leave me be no it all. My eyes are fading.”
“t fade rigermination. “Believe me, Master Osman could still identify t-open nostrils after his eyes had been pierced.”
“ Effendi said ed to talk to me and t I rust.”
Yet it ied, but myself now.
“If you tell us before ts in your eyes, in to your ’s tent one last time,” said Black. “See, the rain has eased.”
“”Let’s go back to to Elegant, but se o like it t it frig kne Effendi ely and e er painting y-five years. In t eigen years, after t I didn’t even knoure, tained a sin so grave doed and possessed by fear, overe atio by a man ted heresy.”
“ heresy?”
“ion, o say, You mean you don’t kno unate Enisival met picture. In ture, objects depicted acc to tan Alla as to ted. t transgression. ting Our Sultan, transgression also involved rendering Satan t. But ural result of introdug tanding into our painting—an’s picture as large as life and s detail! Just like tors do…Or just like traits’ t s, idolatrous tendencies, painted upon t Effendi, s from your Enise ly t portraiture est of sins, and ing. As o ted Preae . Occasionally, op, as t, w any recourse
and a in remorse, but I was unpersuaded. er w.““his?”
“e’ve kno Effendi since c, ordinary and colorless, like anding before me t, yet more superficial t we knew.”
“I e close to the Erzurumis,” said Black.
“No Muslim a for iently itting a sin,” I said. “A good Muslim kno and reasonable enougo sider tent of s. Only pea-brained ignoramuses believe to ing pork unaion serves t Elegant Effendi o scare me. It tell me in plete y, my dear illuminator breto clot in my eyes, their color?”
t to it, displaying the care and passion of surgeons.
“Noto have ged.”
ere taring into my eyes, t sig ts until ted e my regret, I also felt e taug Effendi t by c up ture, by revealing only a specific spot to eacure an air of mystery and secrecy, it ted manuscript in t to spread t sin t ied us. Meanist o fear?”
“t an artist o fear in our day,” said Black smugly. “Indeed, no one o say against decoration, but pictures are forbidden by our faitrations of ters and even terpieces of test masters of are ultimately seen as aension of border orion, no one ake issue ty of ing and ting anyation and intricate design and more on straigation. t t displeased Our Prop. Botan and my Enise e’s murder.”
“Your Enis like you, o claim t illustration, rary to tly text souge to find an aspect trary to t Effendi and your Enis matcher.”
“And you’re t t so?” said Black.
I t for a moment t me, and in t instant, I also kneiful So plain about in te. strike me, and even if made no differeo me any longer.
“In actuality, as mu ed to ists,” I tiubbornly, “your Eo prepare a provocative book of illiess ures of ters ravels, and ely for tistry t for days on end—you too must nonsense about perspective and portraiture. If you ask me, te satisfa…Being involved in sucure an’s personal permission ant to ures of ters. true, if i of exing it, t in none of trary tion, any faity or even t illiess. Did you sense anyt?”
My eyes imperceptibly lost strengt to kno my question gave them pause.
“You ot be certain, you?” I said, gloating. “Even if you secretly believe t ts in tures t, because t to giving credeo ts and Erzurumis ion t you’re as i as fresulation of engaging in a secretive, mysterious and forbidden act. Do you knoiously in t Effendi to t! I broug reets so long. In actuality, it pleased me to s, t I aspired to be a Kalenderi. uood I of ty, ion, vagrand all manner of aberrant be me even more, and in turimidated into silence. As fate opposite ted boy ions of blaspe e on tices first implored, ” go to sleep in peace tonigening tone, began to insist t ”this will end in
not evil.“ in ture an, o tion, exaggerating Eies about affronts to t, and turally believe every slanderous o tell you only tisans, but tire society of craftsmen ense focus of Our Sultan’s attention. Nourists are mired in iorue. I say ”slander“ because I don’t believe in said about t picture. Even t your late Enis quite appropriate t Our Sultan turn er Osman to Enis to t Eniso me at lengt ters and tistry. I used to believe quite si toman artists could fortably take from t aspect of ts desired or as muc abroad— bartering e, may in peace, er Osman, and o me in this new life.”
“Let’s not discuss t poi,” said Black. “First describe .”
“t I couldn’t use tted t only for us, to save us, but for tion of tire o Almigo give me a sign s money. God ind, but by divine inspiration, I lied. I said t I’d out. I reets and out-of-t any sideration for ter o a street Effendi ted ire life to form aition, gre God provided me y led by fire, and nearby, a dry well.”
At t I kne go on and I told tion of your artist bretly.
like g. I o say it ened my , but no. I o say it ing ttom of ter killing no. I o say it o pass take a dirty metal er dipper out of ier clot to us neigce, ter fountain, “My cer from the
fountain?” to ’d be a good turn, my ces of his eyes.
Agitated by t of resembling t blind old man, I fessed e Effendi sav any of it. I oo nor too insincere ency, suc tory trouble my too mue to Eniso murder ed to make clear t it a premeditated murder, trying to absolve myself: “it entions, one never goes to hell.”
“After surrendering Elegant Effendi to tfully, “ed expressed to me in moments started to gna me like a o see it, I to your Eniso only did o reveal ting, ter. ting nor anyterious t it called for murder! to preempt furtion, and to get tention, I t I Effendi and tossed o a ook me more seriously, but io e me all tes Master Osman e us, but ed us. Oake by betraying him.”
I smiled at my brettention ening to me as t as a dying man hem growing increasingly blurry and moving away from me.
“I murdered your Enis, because Master Osman into aping tian artist, Sebastiano. Sed, because in a moment of o ask yle of my own.”
“how did he respond?”
“It seems I am possessed of a style. But ing from an insult. I remembered o be a variety of rootlessness and dis doubt ing at me. I ed noto do yle, but tempting me and I hermore, curious.”
“Everybody secretly desires to yle,” said Black smartly. “Everybody also desires to rait made, just as Our Sultan did.”
“Is tion impossible to resist?” I said. “As to stand against the Europeans.”
No one ening to me, ing tory of a sad turkmen o Curely expressed er of t rait of ies, and ransformed into a profound trial willed by Allah.
“to your Enisrait,“” I said. “God ell tory of our oually live them.”
“All fables are everybody’s fables,” said Black.
“All illumination is God’s illumination too,” I said, pleting t ifi of . “But as t a special talent to tell otories as if they were one’s own.”
“t tan.”
“Uned. “Let me look upon t time.”
terrified, and a nehin me.
“ill you take out ture?” Black said.
I gave Black suc o uand I’d do so and began to beat rapidly.
I’m certain you’ve long ago discovered my identity, o ceal. Even so, don’t be surprised t I’m beers of , for tures not to ities, but out of principle and respect for ters. Excitedly, I of blaess begun to fall over my eyes, or ruly time did I opped among ts in tced up ty et before quickly ion, but ed t aking up t dagger and blinding blind?
“I’m pleased t I you all to see it as well. Look here.”
U of ture, , I cimid expressions as t ture. I circled around and joily trembling as I stared. the
lang of my eyes, or perure, made me feverish.
tures s of t year—tree, ao Enis i neion, in suc ted Elegant Effendi’s gilding and borders made us feel a page from a book but at ter of tan srait, isfied because after lab in vain for days, looking into a mirror and erasing and reo acill, I felt unbridled elation because ture not only situated me at ter of a vast for some unatable and diabolic reason, it made me appear more profound, plicated and mysterious tually ed only t my artist bretand and ser of everytan or a king, and, at time, myself. tuation fed my pride as it increased my embarrassment. Finally take dizzying pleasure in ture. But for to be plete, I kneail from my o be perfect, doo test details, as mucers would allow.
I noted in t and t toward a man hey were also envious.
“During ts I spent aring at ture by t of an oil lamp, I felt for t time t God an ion,” I said. “I kno even if I ruly ter of time I looked at ture t I ed—despite t ruled ting, despite being surrounded by all of tiful Sill be lonely. I’m not afraid of possessing cer and individuality, nor do I fear otrary, t I desire.”
“You mean to say t you feel no remorse?” said Stork like a man a Friday sermon.
“I feel like t because I’ve murdered t because my portrait t I did aure. But noion I feel terrifies me. Imitating ters taiise makes a miniaturist even more of a slave. o escape trap. Of course, all of you knoer all is said and done, I killed t persist as it aloo.”
“Yet ter trouble upon us,” said my beloved Butterfly.
I abruptly grabbed t of t fool Black, ture, ao ed it. t imidly from the ground.
“But no be able to resolve your troubles by o torturer,” I said. As if to poke out t of tohe plume needle.”
ook it out and to me uck it into my saso his lamblike eyes.
“I pity beautiful Sernative but to marry you,” I said. “If I been forced to kill Elegant Effendi to save you all from ruin, s fully uood tales and talents of ted to us. So, listen carefully to t of ell you: tanbul for us master miniaturists o imitating ters, as te Enisan desired, rained, if not by t Effendi, tified co be able to tinue. If o tinue, betraying everyt ile attempt to attain a style and European cer, ill fail—just as I failed in making trait despite all my profid knoive picture I’ve made, even ae admitting it: take turies to attain. e Effendi’s book been pleted ao tian masters ian Doge—t is all. t ttomans toman and on ters! But no oan, nor Black Effendi— of case, sit yourselves do ape tury after tury! Proudly sign your o your imitation paintings. ters of tried to depict t, and to ceal ty to signing your o ceal your lack of individuality. But ternative. Eae: Akbar, Sultan of an, is stre money and blandiss, trying to gat t talented artists in t’s quite apparent t to be pleted for t be prepared anbul, but in the workshops of Agra.”
“Must an artist first bee a murderer to be as y as you?” asked Stork.
“Nay, it’s enougo be t gifted and t talented,” I said heedlessly.
A proud cockerel ce. I gatebook of forms, and put my illustrations into my portfolio. I sidered kill eachem one by
one I Black’s t, but I felt not affe for my boyork, o my eyes.
I screamed at Butterfly, o sitting back do I’d be able to escape teo tiently uttered tous o say:“My fliganbul s from Bagion.”
“In t case, you must instead of East,” said jealous Stork.
“to God belongs t and t,” I said in Arabic like te Enishte.
“But East is east a is ,” said Black.
“An artist so terfly, “ t ratroubling over East or est.”
“So very true,” I said to beloved Butterfly. “Accept my kiss.”
I’d akeofolio filled ures. taking care to protect my belongings, I failed to protect myself. I couldn’t prevent luck did not sripped sligable and momentarily lost ead of taking trol of my arm, . Kig and biting epped on t pain. Brandiswo, I sed:“!”
tayed seated of to one of Black’s nostrils, t began to bleed, bitter tears flowed from his impl eyes.
“Noell me then,” I said, “shall I go blind?”
“Acc to legend, blood clots in t in otistry, oake you under case, you s tc te vistas t io see the way you now do.”
“I sice geistry in an,” I said. “I’ve yet to make ture Allah will judge me by.”
“Don’t nouris you’ll be able to escape Frankis Akbar Kists to sign t priests of Pal long ago introduced European painting ahey are everywhere now.”
“tist o remain pure, to find ser,” I said.
“Aye,” said Stork, “going blind and fleeing to ent tries.”
“ t you to remain pure?” said Black. “Stay h us.”
“For t of your lives you’ll do not emulate tyle,” I said. “But precisely because you emulate ttain individual style.”
“t to do,” said Black dishonorably.
Of course, it artistry but beautiful S over ioner preparing to behead a ned man.
“If I so desired, I could cut off your ant,” I said, announg . “But I’m prepared to spare you for to act crudely and ignorantly toward her. Promise me!”
“I give my word,” he said.
“I you Shekure,” I said.
Yet my arm acted of its own accord, .
At t moment, botered truck cerror, ted by my arm alone. Once I removed to its bloomed a pure red. I’d doened and s if I blind on t I could not take revenge upon any of my miniaturist brethren.
Stork, afraid t urn ifiably so, fled into the
lamp aloft, I after soesture o kiss Butterfly, and saying fareo take my leave of ang of blood kiss o my ’s tent. But iced t tears flowed from my eyes.
I left tuated by Black’s moaning. Nearly running, I fled t and muddy garden, t o take me to Akbar K after t t ro ears poured from my eyes.
As I passed tly make out t lige t neigain I entered, among treets, narroo of my first day in Istanbul ty-five years ago. tyard gate, I sao ormented by guilt for t ttress t a distaive spread out for me in a sality. By time I rea came to fix ttle seller’s sy crystal lamps and s cups I embellistle bottles I decorated ly sold to try) and t out of for a time because it y) fully standing at attention before me and my tearful eyes.
ty of t tiful S t. I ily s in ter I’d tainted my anbul’s dogs, its srees, stered o perform tared at me y; yet, from t I fessed my crimes and resolved to abandon ty I’d ever knoh friendship.
After passing tcory: tening, yet ter ill black. Ever so sloed t I not leave. ere tears floold myself to dream of tan off talent e!
I left took ser beone uesday as an appreo get Master Osman and folloing board on our o t trees i an aura of grandeur, poo time of Sultan Süleyman tled over treet.
Sio to temptation, a of seeing t a quarter tury. trag t I’d take as an apprentice folloer Osman: do er pasties, up tnut trees, past tters of t and ter greeted eacy field up tents in summer and perform, in front of tine arcimes, past tree, o tnut and mulberry trees wed and che ms.
t trance or uico above. I o look up only momentarily at ttered small ifled by boredom, o stare at trees, before I ed.
cla one’s ears. to , and So steal it from ly proof enoug I S, se man also k friends and t turn to t sly range red and indicated t s t, for o settle elling tanding, but I sa to laune. o say, “I beg of you, stop.”
But ed.
I even able to raise my dagger, I simply lifted tchel.
t, losing speed, t first through my neck, lopping off my head.
I kaken by my poor body upid manner in , o move as till he legs of a dying horse.
From tcures, ed to g to tigion of to the sea and Galleon harbor which I would never reach. My head
urn a of t about t my ts take me away.
t occurred to me t before I o ill.
t th.
But I kne I dead yet. My punctured pupils ionless, but I could still see quite hrough my open eyes.
I sas: tly upure receded.
It seemed as if t of observation on and on and I realized seeing y of memory. I iful picture: If you stare long eime of ting.
All time ime.
It seemed as if no one s faded a tone unattainable mulberry and ut trees for years.
ting suddenly assumed sucter and tedious proportions, I ed noto quit time.
I, Saive, in my restless dreams, I sarange creatures and ac stop ually o and Or dreams, su peader my late father’s roof.
I couldn’t sleep, er t oters of t I’d alick as if it were a sword, longingly approaceps. In my dream, whis
man, I’d aears. reet in dreams sounded.
I ran and opehe door.
ing. o urned brig me faintly because urned.
“Get inside,” I said.
“Call for the children,” he said. “e’re going home.”
“You’re in no dition to return home.”
“to fear he Persian.”
“Olive…” I said. “Did you kill t miserable rogue?”
“o India on t departed from Galleon properly aplisask.
“ill you be able to o our hem bring a horse for you?”
I se ied because because rue ermination in to be in trange ually ed to disappear being seen by anybody in tate. ity, ted him on a horse.
During our trip back, as reets ging to our bu first to look Bla t from astride till able to describe co a so , and I prayed to Alla let him die!
ed, “e’re uition t Azrael, tied us and Alla Black more time. But I kne one could ell overly hopeful.
e airs, aled o the bed in my
fater and broug upstairs. earing ting t stuck to ters, t er sunliged off ts, glue boxes, inked Black’s deathly pale skin, and his flesh- and sour-cherry-colored wounds.
I soaked pieces of bedding in er and rubbed tique carpet, and affeately and eagerly as t pressing on t covered jarring t in ril, I sed to s on and arms as ten. to tness of ime. tyard belohing a “reed pen”?
I could er tc joyous void mysterious air sed doo greet her.
Sed s embrag or kissing me: Olive’s severed of tures proving in tding to flee to an, but to call at t time.
t Olive, off Olive’s roke.
As sed, I t about e fat t at first put my fears to rest. And revenge lent me a feeling of fort and justice. At t instant, I ensely o me t tire less rooms o pass from one room to t only by exerg our memories and imaginations, but most of us, in our laziness, rarely exercised ties, and forever remained in the same room.
“Don’t cry, my dear,” said Esturned out fine.”
I gave ook t a time, into doh eagerness and longing.
“s terfeited by tians are everywhere,” she said, smiling.
As soon as s, I o let tairs. I up to t to Black’s naked body. t of curiosity t of care t Black ed me to do in t my poor father was killed.
I ’t say I pletely uood ool to a reed pen, also pared to ie repetition— t t God or? Love, be uood, not tinually racks o protect ts illogic.
So, let me tell you a secret: t room t smelled of deat t in my mout delig deligire tering of my sons cursing and rougyard.
Black looking at me in a pletely different of treasury’s dust and cloturated myself go and caressed s and sood I taco gains speed as its sails sook us boldly into unfamiliar seas.
I could tell by to navigate ters, even on Black imes before manner of i of one oxicated by aking ime to time, ely i my face astounded, no a picture, no a Mingerian whore.
At t like t clear in roke of tures t immortalized turanian armies; t t t tened me. Like a genuine master miniaturist at t of greatest inspiration, guidance of Alla still able to take into sideration tion of tire page, Black tio direct our pla t excitement.
“You tell to my wounds,” hlessly.
t only stituted ttled into a bottleneck betion and paradise, he excuse for our love. For
t ty-six years, until my beloved to to die of a bad , eaoon, as t filtered into ts of tters, and for t feo t and Oro it as “spreading salve onto to suffer beatings at to tinue sleeping in t’s muco sleep curled up en down by life.
e, my c Black couldn’t be. t obvious reason for t never pletely “crippled,” as I t disrupt s appearaimes t a ent, it source of our shared happiness.
As of trutitute I felt at not being able to pass doreets of Istanbul mouall on an exceptionally beautiful s and attendants— I deserved—I also occasionally longed for a brave and spirited tory.
ever t o do somes of lovemaking. to appease t jinn, at times times stare at illustrations in books and take an i in art, at times s urists cer pretty boys. tertained ers, calligraps in ies of puns, double entendres, innuendos, metaptery, and t everyto secretarial duties and a goveral clerkso er. Four years later, an Meurned irely on all artistry, Black’s ention and painting turned from an openly celebrated pleasure into a private secret pursued beimes o us by my fatare, guilty and sad, at an illustration made during tamerlane’s sons in —yes, Ser seeing ure—not as if it of a alent still being played in palace circles, but as if secret long surreo memory.
In tan’s reign, t tained a musical instrument ion assembled ter oil ures and statuettes t t hem
from Englaing it on a slope of te Garden fag t collected on to isatues and ors spun around eaoisy and terrifying music, ly and meaningfully by time to tions of God rats, and ime to all Istanbul resembled the sounding of a bell.
Blad Estold me on different occasions onis on t of Istanbul’s riffraff and dull-ted mobs, andably a source of disfort to to Our Sultan because it symbolized time an A sn, under Allaigation, seized o te Garden s statues to pieces. t us ta, ed Prop bat and le of God o be aures and, , by objects t mimicked Mankind and ted ions, t Our Sultan aken up ill dreaming. tan dictated t to orian. itled tessence of ories, prepared by calligraps illustration by miniaturists.
ting and illumination t ury in Istanbul, nurtured by inspiration from t beters of a paved tists and endless quandries ing itself ists painted erners erners. turists did not gro, but like old men o an illness, ted tuation ion. t nor dreamed about t masters of and tabriz, o, caug as ty is left to darkness, painting ten t e differently.
My fattered ted pages on transferred to treasury; t and fastidious librariaed illustrations belonging to ted into several bound albums. anbul, and disappeared, o be and Or t it Black but ther’s murderer.
In plaaster Osman, er going blind, Stork became or. Butterfly, e fatalents, devoted t of o draal designs for carpets, clotents. tant masters of the workshop gave
to similar ion loss. Peri the page.
My ings made, o anybody:1. My orait; but I kneurists tried, ty, iful depig ed me as a Cy, ters of later geions, even if t really slanted, could never determine ruly looked like. oday, in my old age— of my crait of myself!
2. A picture of bliss: t Blond Naz 1m of Ran e ure of a mot, smiling as ly jealous older broto be t picture. I’d to be depicted as if flying, and at time, ernally suspeyle of ters of op time. I kno’s not easy.
My son Oro be logical in all matters, reminds me on t time-ing masters of could never depict me as I am, and on t ters ed motraits could op time. ing for years t my picture of bliss could never be painted anyhow.
Per. In actuality, look for smiles in pictures of bliss, but ratself. Painters kno t t depict. t’s ute the joy of life.
In t pen tory, old it to my son Or ation I gave ters me, along rations Effendi. Above all, don’t be taken in by Ormi tier and ful and ving story, t a lie Or deign to tell.
1990–92, 1994–98336–330 B.C.: king of to Alexa.
336–323 B.C.: Alexa establisrong> s as til modern times.
622: tion of t Muo Medina, and the Muslim dar.
1010: t Firdusi (lived circa 935–1020) presented o Sultan Mas episodes on Persian mytory—including Alexander’s invasion, tales of tem and truggle beturan—urists sieentury.
1206–1227: ended o Europe.
C. 1141–1209: e tic epic tet, prised of tories, all of painters: treasury of Mysteries, ies and t.
1258: he grandson of Genghis Khan, quered Baghdad.
1300–1922: ttoman Empire, a Sunni Muslim poern Europe, t and N> At its greatest extent, tes of Vienna and Persia.
1370–1405: Subdued t tamerlane quered areas from Mongolia to terranean including parts of Russia, India, Afgan, Iran, Iraq and Anatolia (toman Sultan Bayazid I in 1402).
1370–1526: timurid Dynasty, establisamerlane, fostered a brilliant revival of artistid intellectual life, and ruled in Persia, tral Asia and transoxiana. ture painting at Sabriz and flourisimurids. Iury er of painting in to t master Bihzad.
1375–1467: turkmen tribal federation, ruled over parts of Iraq, eastern Anatolia and Iran. Ji Blacksed by tesall hasan in 1467.
1378–1502: tesion of turkmen tribes ruled nortern Anatolia. esall tempts to tain ttomans, but ed timurid Abu Said in 1468, extending o Bag, and the Persian Gulf.
1453: Ottoman Sultaook Istanbul. Demise of tine Empire. Sultaer issioned rait from Bellini.
1501–1736: tablis of Sate religion of t first located in tabriz, to Kazvin, and later, to Isfa Safavid ruler, S tesahmasp I (reigned 1524–76).
1512: t miniaturist Bied from to tabriz.
1514: ttoman Sultan Selim ter defeating t Cabriz. uro Istanbul e colle of Persian miniatures and books.
1520–66: Süleyman t and ttoman Culture. ttoman Sultan Süleyman t. Important quests expao t and t, including t seige of Vienna (1529) and ture of Baghe Safavids (1535).
1556–1605:
1566–74: Peace treaties signed ria and Persia.
1571: A four-tle bettomans subsequent to ttoman invasion of Cyprus (1570). ttomans ed, Venice surrendered Cyprus to ttomans in 1573. ttle impa European morale and of paintings by titian, tio and Veronese.
1574–95: ttoman Sultan Murat III (during ake place). nessed a series of struggles bettoman-Safavid oman sultan most ied in miniatures and books, and ivities and tories produced in Istanbul. t promi Ottoman miniaturists, including Osman turist (Master Osman) and ributed to them.
1576: Sao ttomans. After decades of ility, Safavid Sa to ttoman Sultan Selim II upon t in an attempt to foster future peace. Among ts sent to Edirne is an exceptional copy of ty-five years. ter transferred to treasury in topkapi Palace.
1583: turist Velijan (Olive), about ten years after ing to Istanbul, is issioo toman court.
1587–1629:
1591: tory of Blad ttoman Court Painters. A year before ted in lunar years) of turns to Istanbul from t, beginning ts reted in the novel.
1603–17: ttoman Sultan A I, atuary sent to tan as a present by Queen Elizabetrong>
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