The Rise of Kaykhosrow (Cyrus)

From the rich branches of the royal tree, the fortunate king appeared. The Greeks called him Cyrus, a hero born of a line as fierce as a raging lion. At the time when the blessed Cyrus was about to be born from his mother, Astyages had an unsettling dream, one that made the very bones in his body tremble. He told his trusted minister: come, rid the face of the earth of this child. When the faithful one heard these words from him, a fresh thought took root in his mind. He gave that nursing infant to the king's shepherd, a man named Mithradates. Spako, who was the shepherd's wife, raised that child with all her kindness. They named him Khordad the hero; a new moon rose in the house of kingship. When some time had passed in this way, the king of the land of Iran grew troubled. On the pretext of an outing, he climbed into the mountains with several of the chiefs of the people. All the sons of the king's nobles were there with him on that excursion. They turned to playing polo, each one seeking fame on that field. But over those young men of renown, the hero Cyrus rose higher. When he struck the ball with his mallet, it was as if it touched the very moon. The ball vanished from sight beneath his stick; no one in the world had seen such a marvel. On the field there was no man like him; no one had a face so radiant. A young man, the son of Aspatama, whose mother was the king's own daughter, tried to outdo that famous youth, but Cyrus struck him down like a polo ball. He flew into a rage at this and was wounded; he swallowed that blow from sheer pride. He went to his father and twisted the story, beginning to complain about Cyrus and what he had done. Saying: today, in front of so many horsemen, a shepherd's son humiliated me. Bold Aspatama grew furious and repeated these words to the sharp-witted king. The great king summoned the shepherd's son; he saw a hero like a ravening wolf. Everyone was saying he was a demon, or a brazen warrior with a body of iron. The king was astonished at the sight of him, wondering if a mighty elephant must be his match. In that gathering was Kavus the brave, who was the king's son in law and a man of action. Whoever looked at Cyrus said: he resembles no one but King Kavus. The fearsome dragon, the king, began to investigate: never has a sheep given birth to a wolf. Then Mithradates came before the king and recounted the whole story from beginning to end. The king grew lost in thought at this account, and in anger drew a frown across his brow. He ordered the son of the faithful minister, the wise and nimble vizier, to be seized. They killed him and made cruel roasted meat of him, and secretly, cruelly, fed it to his father. The old king grew ashamed before Kavus, and had no choice but to hand Cyrus over to him. Once again Cyrus was set free from the clutches of the malicious, savage dragon. Together they hurried toward Persia, but every loyal man's heart was full of defiance. He gathered an assembly of the army commanders and recounted the evils of Astyages. King Kavus sent a swift messenger from there on the road to Cyrus, saying: marshal your army and prepare for action; the whole age shall bend to your will. The great ones have called you to the throne; they have made ready the crown and the seat of power.