Prior to the evening prayers, there came a knock at the door and I opened it without ceremony: It was one of the Commander’s men from the palace, a clean, handsome, cheerful and becoming youth. In

addition to paper and a writing board, he carried an oil lamp in his hand, which cast shadows over his face rather than illuminating it. He quickly apprised me of the situation: Our Sultan had declared a contest among the master miniaturists to see who could draw the best horse in the shortest time. I was asked to sit on the floor, arrange paper on the board and the board on my knees and quickly depict the world’s most beautiful horse in the space indicated within the borders of the page.

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