Tale of Esfandiyar's Seven Trials

Now from here on I will tell of the Seven Trials, bringing fresh and brilliant words. If fortune helps me just once, my talent will win through and succeed. I will speak with the support of Shah Mahmud, of that royal glory and that kingly crown. May the king of the world live forever, may the great ones of the earth be his servants. When the sun showed its face in the sky, it adorned the face of the earth with love. When it set the crown on its head in the sign of Aries, both East and West grew glad. The mountains filled with the rumble of thunder, the streams filled with narcissus and tulips. The tulip bringing allure, the narcissus a warning, the hyacinth a reproach, the pomegranate blossom its beauty. The cloud's heart full of fire, its eyes full of tears, like the wailing of Magi, brimming with the flash of anger. As it shows fire, it lets the water pour; at its voice, the head rises from sleep. When you wake, look at the world: it is fine silk, as if Mani had painted China itself. When the world grows bright with the sun, you see the faces of narcissus and tulip full of dew. It says to it with a laugh, 'You bold-eyed one, I weep for love of you, not from pain or anger.' The earth will not smile until the sky weeps; but I would not call the sky the king's open hand. For its rain comes only in spring, unlike the ceaseless generosity of kings. The king's hand is like the sun when it lifts its crown high in Aries. Whether treasure comes forth from dry earth, or the sea's water, or pearls and musk, the sun withholds its light from neither the poor nor the proud, high-necked king. The hand of Shah Abol-Qasem, that king, is just so with the pure and the impure alike. He never grudges giving anything, nor does he rest on the day he sets out to act. When war comes to him, he makes war, and seizes the heads of kings in his grip. To the one who submits, he gives his treasure freely, never thinking of his own hardship. May Mahmud remain the ruler of the world, may his giving and his justice endure. Now, from the old sage who has seen the world, listen to what he says of the Brazen Fortress and learn.

When the storyteller set out his feast of words, he told a tale of the Seven Trials. About the Brazen Fortress and Esfandiar's deeds, about the road and what Gorgsar revealed. He said that when Esfandiar came to Balkh, his tongue and heart were full of bitter words. He rode on until he reached a fork of two roads; there he pitched his pavilion and tents with the army. He ordered a feast to be laid out; he called for wine, music, and singers. All the warriors of the army came and sat at the king's shepherd like table. He took a golden cup in his hand and began to speak of Goshtasp. Then he ordered that Gorgsar, his heart already scorched, be brought before Esfandiar. He commanded that four cups of golden wine be poured, one after another, on Gorgsar. Then he said to him: You unlucky man, I will raise you to a crown and a throne. If you answer everything I ask you truthfully, the whole land of the Turks will be yours. When I win, I will hand it to you; I will lift you high as the shining sun. I will harm no one who is bound to you, nor any who are bound to your children. But if you circle around a lie, your falsehood will gain no light before me. I will cut you in two at the waist with my dagger, and the whole gathering will tremble in fear at your fate. Gorgsar answered him: O famous, fortunate Esfandiar, The king will hear nothing from me but the truth; do what befits a king. He asked: Where is the Brazen Fortress now, that land cut off from this soil of Iran? How many roads lead there, and how many leagues? Which one holds danger and harm? How large a garrison always holds it? Tell me everything you know of the fortress heights. Gorgsar answered him: O lion hearted king and sovereign, There are three roads from here to that citadel, the one Arjasp called the Place of Battle. One takes three months, one takes two, though food along the way may be scarce. There is grass and watering for the animals, but you will find no place to make camp. The third takes about a week; on the eighth day the army reaches the Brazen Fortress. It is full of lions and wolves and dragons, from whose claws no one escapes. The tricks of a sorceress, the wolf and the lion, are worse than the fierce dragon. She raises one from the sea up to the moon, and casts another headfirst into a pit. There is the desert, the Simorgh, and a bitter cold that rises like a wind and splits the trees with pain. After that the Brazen Fortress appears; no one has seen or heard of a fortress like it. Its walls rise higher than the black clouds, and within are abundant weapons and troops. A river and running water circle around it, so that the sight of it dazzles the soul. The king crosses it by boat when he comes down to the plain to hunt. Even if he stayed shut inside a hundred years, nothing from the plain could threaten him. Within the fortress itself are farmland and pasture, fruit bearing trees and even a mill. When Esfandiar heard these words, he brooded a while and held his breath. He said: We have no road but this; there is nothing in the world better than the short way. The famous Gorgsar said to him: O king, no one has ever passed these Seven Trials by force or by loud threats; each has only met his own end there. The famous prince told him: If you stay with me, you will see the heart and might of a demon. Tell me, what comes first that I must fight my way through? Gorgsar answered him: O famous man, keep yourself fearless. First two wolves will come at you, male and female, each as huge as an elephant. With tusks like a raging elephant's, broad chest and shoulders, and a slender waist, with horns on their heads like stags, longing to fight like lions. He ordered that Gorgsar, still bound and useless, be taken back to the tent. He arranged a joyful banquet and looked down over that festival ground. When the sun raised its crown above the heights, and the sky again shared its secret with the earth, the sound of war drums rose from the court; the earth turned to iron and the sky to ebony. He set his face toward the Seven Trials, toward Turan, marching on happy with his thriving army. When he neared the first stopping place, he chose one famous man from the army. Peshotan was a watchful man, a guardian of the troops against the enemy. He told him: Hold the army in good order; I am wary of what Gorgsar has said. I go in front. If harm comes to me, it is fitting that no harm reach these lesser men. He came and put on his battle armor, and tightened the girth on his night black horse. When the commander drew near the wolf, what a wolf: a proud, mighty elephant. The wolves saw his chest and shoulders, his hero's grip and his mace. From the plain they turned their faces toward him, two proud elephants, two warriors. The brave man strung his bow and roared like a raging lion. He rained arrows on the demons and drove his horse fiercely at them. They grew weak from the steel arrowheads; not one of them came at him unhurt. Bright hearted Esfandiar looked and saw that the beasts had faltered and their strength was gone. He drew a venom colored blade, reined in hard, and lowered his head to charge. He cut them all to pieces with his sword; from their blood, flowers seemed to rise from the earth. He dismounted from his famous steed and, in humility, showed himself to God. He washed his weapons and body of their blood and sought a clean spot in that thornland. His frowning face turned toward the sun, his heart full of pain and his head covered in dust. He said: O just Judge, you gave me my mind, my strength, and my skill. You laid the wolves' bodies in the dust; you are my guide in all good and ill. When the army and Peshotan came up, they found the hero at prayer. The warriors were amazed at what he had done, and every soldier fell to thinking. Should we call this a wolf or a drunken elephant? Long live this heart, this blade, this hand! Without divine glory, may there be no royal throne, no greatness, and no army's ways. The warriors of blessed judgment went forward and set up the royal pavilion facing him.

Nothing but grief fell to Gorgsar's lot from the war of Gorgan and from Esfandiar. They set out a golden banquet table, ate the food and called for wine. He ordered the captive brought before him; they led him in, trembling, his face wet with tears. He gave him three cups of wine, then began to question him: 'Now what do you say? What wonder will I see?' The famous Gorgsar answered him: 'O renowned, lionhearted king, at the next stage, a lion comes to fight, so fierce that even a sea monster could not endure its battle. The brave eagle will not fly over that lion's path, however bold it may be.' Clear-hearted Esfandiar laughed and said to him: 'You quarrelsome, stubborn Turk, tomorrow you will see how boldly I go to battle against the fierce lion.' When night grew dark, the king gave the order, and the army set out from that place. Through the black night the troops marched on, calling out their blessings upon him. When the sun turned that curtain of dark blue into a robe of yellow silk, the commander reached the ground of the brave, arriving at the plain where the lions fought. He ordered Pashutan forward and gave him more advice than could be measured. He told him: 'I hand over this proud army to you; I am going into battle.' He advanced, and when he drew near the lion, the world went dark before the lion's heart. One was male, the other a lioness; they came forward, fierce and bold. As the male charged in, he struck a single blow, and the sand beneath him turned red as coral. He split it in two from head to waist, and the lioness's heart filled with terror. When her mate's death enraged her and she rushed close, the warrior struck a blow to her head. He sent her head rolling into the sand; his hand and battle-armor turned ruby with blood. He stepped into the water and washed his head and body, seeking no protector but the pure God. He said: 'O just and pure judge, it is you who destroyed these beasts by my hand.' At that very moment the army arrived, and Pashutan saw the heads and manes of the lions. They showered blessings on Esfandiar and named him the renowned lord of the earth. From there the guide came forward, up to the royal tent and the pavilion. They laid the table with fine dishes, and the clean-minded chief brought them in.

He ordered the Wolf-headed man brought before him, that ill-minded man of bitter fate. He gave him three cups of ruby-red wine, and like a demon he grew glad from the wine. He said to him: You wretched, lowly man, tell me what tomorrow will bring. The man replied: O king of noble spirit, may all evil stay far from you. You have rushed into battle like fire, and passed through so many dangers this way. You do not know what tomorrow holds; have mercy on your own bright fortune. When you reach the next stage tomorrow, one task lies ahead worth many others. A fierce dragon will confront you, one that pulls a fish from the sea with its breath. Fire blazes from its jaws, and its body is like a mountain of granite. It would be right to turn back from this road; your soul is my witness to this advice. Have you no pity for yourself and for an army gathered under your command? He answered: You wretch, I mean to drag it back in chains. You will see that the dragon cannot escape my grip or my sharp sword. He ordered carpenters brought, and heavy timber fit for the task. A clever wooden cart was built, and blades were fixed all around it. On top the skilled, clear-minded carpenter fashioned a fine round chest. The crown-seeking man tied two costly horses inside the chest. The king sat in the chest to test it, and for a while drove the horses along the road. Wearing armor, with a Kabuli dagger, and a hero's helmet upon his head. When the trap for the dragon was ready, the world-seeker was done with this labor. The world turned dark as a Zangi's face; from the sign of Aries the moon showed its crown. Esfandiar mounted his gray horse, and the famous army rode out behind him. Next day, when the world grew bright, the banner of dark night vanished away. Pashutan came to the renowned hero, with the sons beside their brother before him. The brave world-ruler put on his war-coat and handed the army to blessed Pashutan. He brought the cart and the lion-strong chest, and the bold king climbed inside it. With two costly horses tied to it, he turned sharply toward the dragon. From afar the dragon heard the cart's noise and saw the war-horse coming near. It rose from its place like a black mountain; you would think the sky and moon had gone dark. Its two eyes were like two springs blazing with blood, and fire poured out from its jaws. When Esfandiar saw this wonder, he took refuge in God and held his breath. The horses tried to break free from its harm, but the dragon sucked them in with its breath. Its mouth gaping open like a black mountain, it stared at him, roaring. It swallowed the horses and cart down its throat; the fierce warrior inside the chest went in too. When the blades struck into its jaws, they lodged fast, and it spewed a sea of blood from its mouth. It could not push them out of its jaws, for the blades were like swords and its jaws their sheath. Wounded by the cart and its blades, its strength began to fail a little. The brave man climbed out of the chest, a sharp sword gripped in his lion's hand. With his sword he split the dragon's brain, and its poisonous smoke rose from the earth. From that smoke the hero fell senseless; he collapsed, drained of thought and strength. Pashutan came at once to the side of that renowned lord of the world. When the world-seeker opened his eyes, he called out to the proud warriors. He said: I fainted from the poison's smoke; its blow itself did me no harm. He rose from the ground and went to the water, like a man waking dazed from sleep. He asked his treasurer for fresh clothes, entered the water, and washed his head and body. He came before the pure God, writhing and weeping upon the earth. He said: Who else could have killed this dragon but one whom the Lord of the world supports? His whole army sang his praises, all bowing their heads to the ground before the Creator. They laid their heads down and said to the Maker: You are pure, flawless, and our sustainer.

Gorgsar was struck with grief at what had happened, at how the dead Esfandiar had come back to life. The king pitched his royal tent by the water's edge, and all around him the army raised its tents. He called for wine, for music at the feast, and for the cupbearers; he rose to his feet in honor of the Lord of the world. He ordered that Gorgsar, his heart still branded with sorrow, be brought stumbling before Esfandiar. He gave him three cups of royal wine, then smiled and brought up the matter of the dragon. He said to him, 'You worthless, cowardly wretch, look now at the blood of this male dragon.' 'What lies ahead of me at the next stop? Where will greater hardship and grief come to me?' He answered, 'O victorious king, you keep drawing good fortune from the stars.' 'Tomorrow, when you make camp at your next halt, a sorceress will come to greet you.' 'She has seen many armies before this, yet has never let a single soul escape her.' 'When she wills it, she turns a desert into a sea, and stretches herself as wide as the height of the sun.' 'Kings call her by the name Ghoul; do not walk into her snare in the flower of your youth.' 'Turn back in triumph from the dragon; you must not let your name be dragged through the dust.' The world-seeker said, 'You foul, brazen-faced man, tomorrow report whatever you see me do.' 'For I will do to that sorceress what will break the backs and hearts of all sorcerers.' 'By the victory the one just God grants, I will trample the head of these sorcerers underfoot.' When day put on its yellow robe, the light of the world turned toward the west. He gathered his troops and loaded up the baggage, calling on the goodness God bestows. Through the dark night the king marched his army, until the sun kindled its golden crown. When the face of the constellation Aries turned red as ruby, the whole face of the earth broke into a smile. He handed all the troops over to Peshotan, and took along a golden goblet full of wine. He also asked for a tuned lute; a battle lay before him, yet he called for a feast. He saw a woodland like paradise, as if the heavens had sown it with tulips. The sun could not pierce its trees, and everywhere there were springs as sweet as rose water. He dismounted from his horse, as was fitting, and chose a spot in the wood beside a spring. He set a golden goblet in his hand, and when he felt the wine gladden his heart, he took up the lute at once and began to sing and lament. He sang, 'Ill-starred Esfandiar, who never sees wine or a companion to drink with.' 'He sees nothing but lions and fierce dragons, and never escapes the claws of disaster.' 'He gains no share of joy from this world, no sight of a lucky, fairy-faced beauty.' 'I would win my heart's desire from God, if only he gave me a heart-melting face,' 'tall as a cypress, with a face like the sun, and hair like musk flowing down to the feet.' When the sorceress heard Esfandiar's voice, she bloomed like a flower in spring. She said, 'A lion has come into the trap, with song and lute and a brimming cup.' Her face was wrinkled, hideous, and unshapely; onto that darkness she wrote her spells. She became lovely as a beautiful Turk, her cheek like Chinese silk, her hair like musk. She came near Esfandiar and sat down on the grass by the stream. When the world-seeker saw her face, he raised his song and wine and music higher. He said, 'O one just God, you are my guide through mountains and deserts.' 'Just now I searched for a fairy-faced beauty, one famous for her form, that I might have my share of her.' 'The generous Creator of justice has given me a pure cup and one to serve it.' He handed her a goblet full of musk-scented wine, so her face would flush like a ruby. He had a fine steel chain, kept hidden as a safeguard against sorcery. Zoroaster had bound it on his arm, having brought it to Goshtasp from paradise. With that iron on him, no evil fortune could threaten Esfandiar's life. He threw the chain around her neck in a way that drained the strength from her body. The sorceress turned herself into a lion; the world-seeker reached for his sword. He said to her, 'You cannot harm me, even if you become a towering mountain of iron.' 'Show yourself in your true form; I will answer you now with the sword.' In the chain she shriveled into a foul old crone, her hair white as snow, her skin black. He struck a sharp dagger onto her head; may you never see such a head, nor its severing. When the sorceress died, the sky went dark, so dark it dazzled the eye that stared into it. A wind rose and a black dust swirled up, hiding the sight of the sun and moon. The world-seeking hero stood tall and let out a roar like crashing thunder. Peshotan came up with the army and said, 'O renowned king,' 'no crocodile can stand against your blow, no Turk, no sorcerer, no lion or leopard.' 'May the proud champion live on in the world; may the world stand in need of your love.' A fire flared up from the crown of Gorgsar's head at Esfandiar's triumph in the fight.

The world-seeker bowed low before the Creator of the world, pressing his face to the earth for a while. He pitched his tent within that forest and had a fitting feast laid out. Then the prince ordered the executioner to drag the wretched captive in, bound and humiliated. They brought him before the hero Esfandiyar, and the captive saw the prince's face. Esfandiyar gave him three cups of royal wine, and Gorgsar grew merry from the ruby wine. He said to him: You Turk of fallen fortune, look at that old sorcerer's head hanging from the tree. The one who boasted he would march his army to the sea and raise his own head to the stars. Now, what marvel will I face at the next station? By this sorcerer I should judge what comes. Gorgsar answered him: You elephant of war, on the day of battle, at this station the task is harder still. Be more alert and more sharply awake. You will see a mountain with its peak lost in the sky, and upon it a ruling bird. The eager creature is called the Simorgh; it is like a flying mountain that hungers for combat. If it sees an elephant, it snatches it up to the clouds, a crocodile from the sea, a lion from the land. It feels no strain in lifting them. Do not measure it against the wolf or the sorcerer. It has two young ones as huge as itself, their intent bound tightly to its own. When it takes to the air and spreads its wings, the earth loses its sense and the sun its glory. It would be wiser to turn back; what need have you of the Simorgh and the towering mountain? Esfandiyar laughed at him and said: How strange, I will pin both its shoulders with my arrows. I will cleave its breast with my Indian sword and bring its head down from the heights to the dust. When the shining sun turned its back, the heart of the East grew grim behind it. The chief of the warriors set his troops in motion, the Simorgh's warnings turning in his mind. All night he led his own band forward, until the blazing sun rose over the mountain, renewing the lamp of time and earth, giving valley and gate a fresh measure. He took the horse, the cart, and the iron chest, and handed the army over to its commander. The prince moved on like the wind and saw a mountain with its peak in the sky. In its shadow he halted his horse and cart and set his mind to careful thought. He praised the one God, by whose command the world stands firm. When the Simorgh saw the chest from afar, and behind it the army and the blare of horns, it swept down from the mountain like a black cloud; no sun stayed bright, no moon. It meant to seize the cart in its talons, the way a leopard snatches its prey. It struck its two feet and two wings against those blades; no beauty or splendor was left to the Simorgh. It struggled a while with claw and beak, but when it was worn down, it grew still. When the young ones saw the Simorgh crying out, blood dripping from both its eyes, they bolted from that place in such terror that dread made them lose their way. When the Simorgh grew weak from those blades, it washed the chest and cart with its blood. Esfandiyar came out of the chest and roared, his weapons of war in hand. Mail on his chest, his Indian sword in his grip, what strength could a bird bring against a crocodile? He struck it with his sword until it was torn to pieces; so the crafty bird was left helpless. He came before the Lord of the moon, who grants mastery over every beast. He said: You just judge, Lord of purity, strength, and skill, you swept away the trace of the sorcerers, you were my guide to this good fortune. At that very moment the trumpet cried out, and Pashutan brought the great tent forward, the brother's arms, the army and the son, the nobles of Iran, crown and belt. Of the slain bird, no one could see the plain, only the warrior's limbs and blood. The ground from mountain to mountain was covered with feathers; the whole field shone with their splendor. They saw the king's body drenched in blood, his face that had put the moon's own face to shame. The chiefs called out their praises to him, the mounted warriors and the champions. At once Gorgsar heard the news that the famed prince had triumphed. His body began to tremble, his cheeks turned pale; he went on stumbling, his heart full of pain. The young prince pitched his tent, with brave, clear-hearted warriors circled around him. They adorned the ground with fine brocade, sat down at the feast, and called for wine.

After that he ordered Gorgsar to come before the famous king. He gave him three cups of wine, one after another, red wine in a cup as yellow as a flower. He said to him: You of evil body and evil soul, look now at the Maker of this world. No Simorgh in sight, no lion, no wolf, nor that great dragon with sharp claws. At the stage where this beast will stir up trouble, there is water and grass for the pack animals. Then Gorgsar spoke aloud: O famous, fortunate Esfandiar, if you turn back it would be no wonder; you should measure this by your own luck. God has been your helper, lucky one, that royal tree has borne its fruit. But a task lies ahead tomorrow, one where a man will not even think about the day of battle. You will not recall your mace, your bow, or your sword; you will see no path to fight and no path to flee. Snow will fall on you a spear's height deep; in two days a strange kind of joy will come to you. You and your renowned army will be trapped in the snow, O fortunate Esfandiar. If you turn back it would be no wonder; do not hold my words against me as spite. You will drown your whole army in blood through your rashness, bad judgment, and bad temper. I am certain of this: that a fierce wind will strip the fruit off the trees of that land. After that, when you reach the desert, a stage of thirty leagues will come upon you. It is all burning sand, whether dust or hard ground; no bird, no ant, no locust crosses it. Nowhere will you find a single drop of water; its earth boils under the sun. No lion can pass over that soil, nor any swift-winged vulture through its air. No grass grows on its rock or sand; its ground is shifting sand, fine as antimony. You will ride like this for forty leagues, with no strength in the horse and no heart in the man. From there the army will come to the Brazen Fortress; you will see a place of great substance. Its ground lies deep in need, and its rampart is in secret talks with the moon. Its roof pours more rain than any cloud, for its fame was sharper than any cutting cloud. No fodder for the animals comes from outside; not a single rider of the army will be left alive. If a hundred thousand dagger-wielding warriors came from Iran and Turan, and sat around it for a hundred years, raining down arrows from above, the many would stay the same, the few the same; the evil doubter is like a knocker fixed on a door. When the Iranians heard this from Gorgsar and became companions of grief, they said: O free and noble king, as long as you can, keep away from disaster. If everything Gorgsar warned about is true, then it cannot stay hidden for long. We came to this place to meet death, not just to wear down our helmets. You crossed such a brutal road and endured the menace of beasts and predators. None of the famous heroes or noble kings could ever count up such hardships, the ones that faced you on these seven trials. Now call on the Creator of the world. If you turn back victorious, you will return to the king with a glad and joyful heart. But if you seek revenge on another road, the whole city of Turan will fall in worship before you. As long as Gorgsar keeps saying such things, do not treat your own life as worthless. Now that we have won and are happy, we should not throw our lives to the wind. When Esfandiar heard such words from them, his fresh face turned old before those warriors. He said: you came from Iran to give advice, not for the sake of lasting glory. Where are all the royal robes and the king's counsel, the golden belts, the throne and the crown? Where are all those vows and oaths and pledges, sworn by God and by the lucky star? Yet now your legs have grown weak, and along the road your resolve has scattered. Turn back, victorious and glad. As for me, I want nothing but battle. At the word of this troublesome demon you have shrunk back from the fight. I want no one from Iran in this battle; my son and my brother are enough for me. The victorious Lord of the world is my ally, and the head of the star rests at my side. In courage I need no companion, whether I take a life or give up my own. I will show the enemy every skill I have, my valor, my triumph, and the strength of my hand. You will surely get news of this glorious, kingly splendor, of what I did to the fortress with cunning and force, in the name of the Lord of Saturn and the Sun. When the Iranians opened their eyes, they saw his face full of rage. They went to the prince, begging pardon: if the lord will look, let him forgive our fault. May our bodies and lives be sacrificed for you; this is our pledge, as long as we live. We grieve out of concern for the prince's life, not because we are helpless in struggle and war. As long as one of us famed warriors is alive, not one of us will turn his head from battle. When the commander heard their words, he turned away from that earlier talk. He blessed the Iranians and said: true courage can never stay concealed. If we come through as victors, we will reap the fruit of all our past hardship. Your suffering will not be forgotten in the heart, and surely your treasure will never stand empty. He kept planning until the world grew cool, and a light wind rose from the mountaintop. From the royal camp rose the trumpet and the reed pipe, and the whole army moved out from its place. They rode swift as fire, calling often on the Maker of the world. When dawn lifted its head above the mountains, the night drew its veil of poetry over its own head. When the shining sun hid its face, bloodshed followed close behind it. That heavy host reached its resting place, all of them mace-bearers and spearmen. It was a sweet, gentle day of spring, one that lit up the heart, one that lit up the world. He ordered the great pavilion and the tents pitched, laid out the feast, and had the wine brought in. At that very moment a fierce wind swept down from the mountain, and the famous hero was worn down by it. The whole world turned dark as a crow's wing; no one could tell the open plain from a raven. Snow came pouring from the dark cloud, a land buried in snow and a monstrous wind. For three days and three nights it went on like that across the plain, the wind's breath beyond all measure. The air became weft, the cloud became warp; the commander was left helpless before it. He said aloud to Pashutan: 'This venture of ours has been wedded to pain.' 'By courage I marched into the dragon's jaws; now brute strength is worth nothing.' 'All of you, offer your prayers to God, call upon Him and praise Him.' 'Perhaps these afflictions will pass from us, so that after this no one will look down on us.' Pashutan came before God, for he was a guide toward all that is good. They prayed beyond all measure, and all at once raised their hands together. At that very moment a pleasant wind arrived, carried off the clouds, and the sky's face turned clear. When the Iranians' hearts were set at ease, they stood on their feet before God. The pavilion and the tents were soaked through; from the cold no one had strength in foot or wing. The warriors stayed right there for three days; on the fourth, when the world-kindler blazed up, the commander summoned the noble ones and told many fine tales. He said: 'Leave your baggage here, and carry nothing but the tools of war.' 'Whoever among you ranks as a captain, and has a mount that carries water like a hundred beasts,' 'load them with water and food for fifty, and load on the rest of the marching gear.' 'Leave the surplus baggage here as well, except for what the battle demands.' 'By the power of God we will get the upper hand over that wicked, idol-worshipping people.' When someone gives up hope in God, not much good fortune ever comes their way. From that fortress you will all grow rich, every one of you laden with treasure and crown. When the sun drew its yellow veil over its head, the west turned the color of a golden flower. The warriors loaded up their gear and set out, all of them, following their king like a flock. When a while of the dark night had passed, the cry of a crane came down from the sky. Esfandiar was troubled by its call, and sent a message to Gorgsar. You told me there was no water in this place, no spot for rest or sleep. Now the crane's cry has risen from the sky; why did you make our hearts so anxious about water? He answered: from here the animals will find nothing but a spring of salty water, and another spring whose water is like poison, meant only for birds and wild beasts. The commander said: I have taken a spiteful, vengeful guide in Gorgsar. Because of his words he drove the army hard, and the lord of the world called on the Giver of good.

When a watch of the dark night had passed, a great clamor rose up ahead. The new king smiled upon his mount and rode from the rear of the army to the front. As the commander pushed forward before the troops, he saw a deep, bottomless sea. There was a camel in that caravan that the driver kept at the head of the line. The lead camel was drowning in the water; the commander threw out his hand in haste. He seized it by both thighs and dragged it from the mud; the enemy from Chegel grew afraid. He ordered that the wretched Gorgsar, his heart branded with grief, be brought forward in his chains. He said to him: You foul Gorgsar, now caught in the hands of Esfandiar, didn't you say we would find no water here, that the blaze of the sun would burn us alive? Why did you, vile one, turn earth into water and think you had destroyed the whole army? He answered: The death of your army is light to me, bright as the sun and moon. What do I get from you but chains? What could I want for you but suffering and harm? The commander laughed and opened his eyes wide; he was struck by this Turk, and his anger grew. He told him: You dull witted Gorgsar, once I come out victorious from the battle, I will make you lord of your Fortress of Bronze; may I never do you any wrong. The whole kingdom will be entirely yours, if you speak straight and true with us. I will not harm those who are your children, nor those who are kin of your house. When Gorgsar heard his words, his soul filled with hope from the prince. He was amazed at what he said; he kissed the ground and begged forgiveness. The prince told him: What you said is past; your foolish talk did not dry the plain's water. Where is the crossing of this sea of water? You must show us the right road. He answered: Not even the feather and iron point of an arrow can cross this lake. The mighty hero stood astonished, and at once he loosened Gorgsar's bonds. Gorgsar went into the sea of water, leading a camel by its rein. The commander gave the order to empty the waterskins into the water in the moonlight. The mount grew light in the sea, and the whole army crossed over at once. When the troops and baggage reached dry land, the left wing was drawn up level with the right. The army came near the Fortress of Bronze; only ten leagues of road remained. The chief of the warriors sat down to eat, and the cupbearer took the wine cup in hand. He ordered the mail coat, helmet, and armor brought, along with the sword, before the lion hero. He ordered Gorgsar unbound, and he came before the champion Esfandiar. He told him: Now that you have left your evil behind, goodness and honest speech become you. When I cut Arjasp's head from his body, I will make the soul of Lohrasp shine bright, and Kohram too, who by spilling Farshidvard's blood filled an army's heart with blood and pain, and Andariman as well, who came out victorious and killed thirty-eight of our brave men. I will cut off their heads to avenge my grandfather; from every quarter I will work my alchemy. I will make all their graves the feasting ground of lions, to the desire of Iran's brave warriors. I will pierce all their livers with arrows and carry off their women and children as captives. Though you are grieved by this, we will still call you happy; tell me all that is in your heart, great or small. Gorgsar's heart grew tight at this; his soul and tongue filled with fury. He told him: How long will you speak like this? May the just Creator never bless you. May every evil star fall upon your life; may your waist be cut through by a dagger. May your body be thrown bloodied to the dust, the earth your bed and the dirt your shroud. At his words the famed hero flared up and turned in rage on the bitter hearted Gorgsar. He struck an Indian sword down on his head and split him in two from crown to chest. At once he threw him into the sea; the treacherous man's body became food for the fish. From there he mounted his steed and swiftly girded a hero's belt at his waist. He climbed to the heights and gazed at the fortress; he saw a smooth fortress with iron ramparts. Three leagues in height and forty in width, he saw nowhere in it a trace of water or clay. Along the breadth of its wall, four riders could ride side by side. When Esfandiar saw that marvel, he drew a cold sigh up from his heart. He said: This cannot be taken by force; evil has come upon me by an evil road. Alas for all our toil and fighting; all our effort has ended in regret. He looked out across the desert and saw two Turks moving over that plain. Ahead of them ran four dogs, hounds that run down deer in the chase. Esfandiar came down from the heights, a battle spear in his grip. He asked them: This famed fortress, what kind of place is it, and how many riders are in it? They spoke at length about Arjasp and recited to him the whole record of the fortress. They said: Look at the height and breadth of the fortress; one gate opens toward Iran, another toward China. Within it are thirty thousand swordsmen, proud and famous riders, all like slaves before Arjasp, bowing their heads to his command and will. There is food beyond measure, grain still on the stalk even if not fresh. Even if the king shuts the gate for ten years, there is food enough for all the army needs. If he wants horsemen from China and Machin, a hundred thousand famed riders come to his side. He needs nothing from anyone; there is food and men to bring him aid. When they had spoken, he took the Indian sword in his fist and killed those two simple hearted, arrogant men.

From there he came to the royal tent, and they cleared the place of every stranger. Peshotan went to Esfandiar, and they spoke at length of the coming battle. He said to him: a fortress this fierce is not taken by force, not even in many years of war. Unless I hold my own life cheap and devise some trick against the enemy. Stay awake here, night and day; guard the army against the foe. A man becomes truly worthy, fit for kingship and the lofty throne, when he fears no crowd of enemies in war: not the leopard on the mountain, nor the crocodile in the water. Sometimes deceit, sometimes menace; sometimes glory and grandeur, sometimes descent into lowliness. When I enter this fortress as a merchant, I will not say I am the lion of the world, the champion. I will find a way through every door; I will draw a lesson from every kind of knowledge. Do not go without watchmen and scouts; be not weak in any branch of knowledge. If the watchman sees smoke by day, and at night a fire bright as the world lighting sun, know that this is my own doing, and not a trick of my opponent. Ready the army and march it from here, in armor, with helmet and heavy mace. Raise my banner far off, and set the troops at the center. Advance boldly with the ox headed mace, so that they call you Esfandiar. Then he summoned the caravan leader and sat him on his knees before Peshotan. He told him: bring a hundred proud, red haired pack camels, splendid in color and scent. Load ten camels with gold coins, and load five more with silk of China. Five more with jewels of every kind, a golden throne, and a crown for kings. He brought eighty pairs of chests, all with hidden latches, sealed shut. He chose a hundred and sixty of his warriors, men who would not be recognized among them. And twenty of his own renowned men, proud and skilled with the dagger. He ordered those precious warriors to travel at the head of the caravan as camel drivers. Sandals on their feet and coarse wool on their backs, but jewels, gold, and silver in their loads. The commander set off swiftly toward the fortress, going in the guise of merchants. He drove the famed caravan along, proud warriors playing the part of camel drivers. As he neared the fortress he went ahead, following his own shrewd heart and clear mind. When the caravan bells began to ring, the camel drivers pressed forward at the front. The notables in the fortress got word; they talked much and hurried out. saying a merchant has come who sells coins cheap and asks little for his gold. The great men of the fortress came out to meet him, buyers, proud and eager. Each asked the master of the load: which of these goods is worth buying? He answered: the first thing is that I must see the king himself in person. I will show him what I can offer; when he commands, I will pour out a sea of goods. He set down the camel loads and went ahead himself, to see how he might sharpen his trade. A bowl full of jewels fit for a king, and some gold coins as a gift to scatter, so heavy it strained his forearm and sleeve, a horse, and two robes of Chinese silk. The bowl covered with layers of silk, silk above and musk and perfume beneath. He went to Arjasp, seeking his plan, decked out in silk, color, and fragrance. When Arjasp saw him, he poured out the coins and said: may wisdom be the companion of kings. O king, I am a merchant, my father a Turk, my mother from noble stock. I buy in Turan and carry to Iran, or I take my goods to the plain of the brave. I have a whole caravan of camels with me, loaded with fine garments to wear. with jewels, crowns, colors, and scents; I am both a seller and a seeker of buyers. I left my goods outside the fortress, trusting the whole world to your protection. If the king would allow this caravan, the camel drivers will bring it to the fortress gate. By your good fortune I would be safe from all harm, and rest in the shade of your kindness. He answered: keep your heart glad, and free yourself from any fear of harm. No one will trouble you in the land of Turan, nor if you head toward China and Machin. Then he ordered a spacious lodging in the fortress, a hut set before the palace, to be given to him within the Brazen Fortress, and all his loads brought up from the plain. so he could set up his market in that hut, and keep him safe under protection. They went and hoisted the chests onto their backs, camel halters gripped in their fists. A shrewd man asked: what is hidden inside these chests? The one carrying them said: we have of necessity laid our very lives upon our shoulders. Esfandiar set up a hut and adorned it like a flower in spring. From every side crowds of buyers gathered, and a lively market rose around that hut. That night passed, and at early dawn he ran from the hall toward the king. Three trays of gold coins, musk, and silk the fortunate man carried before him. He came and kissed the ground and offered many praises to Arjasp. He said: this rich caravan I have driven swiftly along with the camel men, has in it bracelets and a crown fitting for a proud king. Let him tell his treasurer to come and see all the wares laid out in the hut. If he finds anything worthy of the treasury, let him bring it; surely it costs him nothing. and let the merchant win, from the king of the earth, both apology and praise. Arjasp laughed and welcomed him, and gave him a more honored rank. He asked his name; the man said Khorrad, the world seeking one, generous and cheerful. He said to Khorrad: O noble born man, do not go to the trouble of apologies. You need not beg admittance from the doorkeeper; come to me whenever you wish. Then he asked him about the hardship of the road, about Iran and Turan and the state of the army. He answered: for five months I have endured pain and hardship on the road. He asked him: was there news in Iran of Esfandiar and of Gorgsar? He answered: O kind natured king, everyone speaks of this as he wishes. One said that Esfandiar had turned bitter against his father and defied him. Another said he had led an army from the Domed Fortress and set out on the road of the Seven Trials, to test himself in war in the land of Turan and to take revenge on Arjasp by his valor. Arjasp laughed and said: no seasoned old man who has seen the world would say such a thing. If a mere vulture makes it through the Seven Trials, call me a demon and not a man. When the warrior heard this, he kissed the ground and left Arjasp's hall well pleased. The famed man opened the door of his hut, and set the fortress buzzing with talk of the merchant. For a while there was buying and selling, and everyone fixed his eyes greedily on the goods. He would take a single coin for his wares, bargaining this against that and that against this.

When the bright sun had turned across the dome of the sky, and its buyer had passed on from the market of light, his two sisters left the hall and went out to the street, wailing, water jars balanced on their shoulders. They came to Esfandiar, their eyes wet with tears, humbled and covered in dust. When Esfandiar saw this strange sight, he hid his face from the two sisters. His heart filled with dread at their plight, and he covered his face beneath a coarse cloak. The two of them came close to him, two streams of bloody tears running down their cheeks. In their helplessness they began to plead with that renowned man they took for a merchant. One sister said to him, 'Caravan-leader, tell us: from where did you first set out with your caravan? May your days and nights be blessed, and may all the great ones be your servants. What news do you have of Iran, of Goshtasp and Esfandiar, O famous warrior? Here we are, two daughters of a king, held captive in the hands of a graceless tyrant, bare-headed, bare-footed, carrying water on our shoulders, while our father sleeps easy and content, day and night. We run naked before the crowd; happy is the one whose body a shroud will cover. We will weep awhile with tears of blood; be a physician to us in this pain. If you have any news of our city, know that in this land our poison has turned to remedy.' From beneath the cloak he let out such a cry that the two daughters trembled with fear: 'May Esfandiar be wiped from the earth, and everyone in the world who ever remembered him. May no one ever see crown and belt worn by that unjust man Goshtasp again. Can't you see I am only a peddler, struggling just to feed myself?' When the fortunate Homay heard his voice, she recognized him, and her heart returned to its place. When the sister knew his voice, she hid his secret within herself. With her heart so branded by grief, she stayed before him, shedding tears from both eyes down her cheeks. Her garment torn, her feet in the dust, her soul full of dread and terror of Arjasp. The pure-minded warrior knew that Homay had recognized him. Swiftly he uncovered his face, his eyes brimming, his heart full of blood, his face bright as the sun. He was amazed at the ways of the world; he grew grim and bit his lip. He said to them, 'For these few days, keep your lips sealed shut, both of you. I have not come here for war; I have come, through hardship, for the sake of honor and disgrace. The one whose daughter must haul water while her brother grieves and her father sleeps in comfort, let his father be the sky and his mother the earth; I will not bless such a fate.' Then the young man rose from the hut and came running to Arjasp. He said to him, 'King, may you be fortunate; ruler of the world, may you live forever. There was a deep sea along this road that the merchant knew nothing about. A fierce crosswind rose from the sea, one the sailor said he could not recall the like of. On the ship we were all wretched and weeping, our lives and bodies scorched with terror. I made a vow to the one just God that if I escaped the sea's peril, I would hold a feast in every land where there was a ruler to receive it. I would give to beggars, little and much, and honor the poor man. Now let my king honor me and make my name known today through this request. Which of the proud heroes of the army are close to the honored king of the world? I have arranged to make them my guests, and with this act to gladden my soul.' When Arjasp heard this he was pleased, and the foolish man's head filled with vanity. He ordered that whoever was most honored and most renowned in the army that day should go as guests to Khorrad's hall, and if there was wine, drink themselves fully drunk. The young man said to him, 'King, noble one, wise ruler, priest above all priests, my house is cramped and its rooftop is high; let us go up onto the fortress rampart, most honored one. It is the month of Mehr; I will light a fire and cheer the hearts of the famous ones with wine.' Arjasp said to him, 'Take whatever path you wish; within your hall, the host is king.' The joyful warrior came in haste and heaped great piles of wood onto the roof. They slaughtered horses and many lambs and hauled them all up onto the fortress roof. From the wood piled on the fortress rampart, the face of the sky vanished in the smoke. He kept bringing wine, and when all that had been drunk, the cupbearer himself was carried off. All the famous ones went off drunk, each with a sprig of narcissus in his hand from the wine.

Night came, and someone lit a great fire, its heat so fierce it seemed to scorch the sky. When the watchman looked out from his lookout post, he saw fire by night and thick smoke by day. He rushed back from his post so joyfully, you would think he had raced against the wind. When his road brought him to Peshotan, he told him what he had seen: the fire and the smoke. Peshotan said: a brave man is stronger than any elephant or lion when it comes to cunning. May the evil eye stay far from his body, and may all his days be times of feasting. The brass horn and the curved trumpet sounded, and from the gate rose the bellow of the war drum. From the plain the army moved toward the fortress; the shining sun went black beneath the dust. Every man under armor and helmet felt his blood boiling up from his very heart. When word reached the fortress that the army had come, the whole world was lost behind the black dust. The fortress filled with the name of Esfandiar; the tree of disaster bore its bitter fruit. Arjasp put on his battle armor and rubbed his hands together again and again in readiness. He ordered the lion-taking Kohram to lead the troops, the war drums, the swords and arrows. He said to Tarkhan: proud warrior, go swiftly with an army ready for war. Take ten thousand of the fortress' finest, all seekers of battle, all wielders of the blade. See who these warriors are, and cut off any plan they have for this assault. Proud Tarkhan came running with a translator to this side of the fortress. He saw the army in mail and battle gear, and a banner bearing the black figure of a leopard. Peshotan led the ranks in the center, an army whose hands were washed in blood. In his grip was the mace of Esfandiar, and beneath him a renowned warhorse. There was no equal to mighty Esfandiar; no one called him anything but the king of Iran. The army drew up its left and right wings so that bright day itself seemed to vanish. From the blows of diamond bright spearheads, you would say the clouds were raining down blood. The armies clashed from both sides, every warrior among them hungry for the fight. Nushazar the swordsman went forward, looking for combat within that gathering. Proud Tarkhan came at him, meaning to strike his head to the dust from his body. When Nushazar saw him out on the plain, he raised his arm and drew his sword from its sheath. He cut Tarkhan in two at the waist and filled Kohram's heart with dread and pain. Then he charged straight into the heart of the enemy; to him the great man and the small were all the same. The two armies smashed together so hard that arrows formed a cloud above the chiefs. Proud Kohram fled back toward the fortress, retreating fast and driving his troops along. Kohram said before his father: renowned king with the glory of the sun, a great army has come from Iran, and at its head a mighty champion. It is proud Esfandiar and no one else; no one but he could come against this fortress. He holds in his hand the very war spear you saw him wield in battle at the domed fortress. Arjasp's heart grew heavy at these words, for the old blood feud had come alive again. He told all the Turks: go out, leave the fortress at once and head for the plain. Bring the whole army into the field and raise the roar of a raging lion. Do not leave a single one of them alive, and let no one even speak their names again. The whole army came out from the fortress onto the road, their hearts wounded and thirsting for revenge.

When the night grew darker, Esfandiar put on his fresh armor for battle. He threw open the lids of the chests, seeking a way to free those who were captive. He brought out roasted meat, wine, and drink, and also the war garments to be worn. When they had eaten, each was given three cups of wine, and they grew merry with it. He said: Tonight is a night full of danger; it is fitting that we win a name here. Fight hard and battle like men, and take refuge from all perils in God. Then he divided his warriors into three groups, all of them men who sought honor and combat. One group he set inside the fortress, to do battle with everyone there. Another was to press toward the gate of the citadel and not rest from fighting and shedding blood. To the third group of proud warriors he said: You must find the signs of them, those who were drunk with us last night on wine; cut their heads down low with your daggers. He himself, with twenty of the boldest heroes, went swiftly, leaving the rest their tasks. He came boldly to Arjasp's court, wearing his mail and roaring like a lion. When the din of blows rose from the palace gate, Homay ran forward before the noble women. With her sister Be-Afrid at her side, her face hidden beneath tears of blood. When Esfandiar came close, he saw the two veiled women, lovely as early spring. The lionhearted man said to his sisters: Hurry away from here as fast as dust rides the wind, to the place that is my marketplace; there is much gold and silver, and it is my station. Do not stay with me on this battlefield, whether I lose my head or take the crown. With an Indian blade in his fist he advanced, and killed every warrior he saw. His whole court became such that there was no path left in that famous hall, so many were the wounded, the slain, and the trampled that the ground was like a raging sea. When Arjasp woke from sleep, his heart filled with dread at the uproar. Arjasp sprang up from his place, put on his quilted armor and a Roman helmet. A gleaming dagger in his hand, his mouth full of shouting, his heart full of blood. He said to him: From this merchant you shall now receive a sword and a heap of gold coin. I bring you a gift worthy of Lohrasp, stamped with the seal of Goshtasp. Arjasp and Esfandiar closed in combat, and their fighting passed all bounds. Again and again they struck with sword and dagger, sometimes at the waist, sometimes at the head. He wore Arjasp down with wounds; not a whole spot could be seen on his body. His elephant-like body collapsed to the ground, and Esfandiar cut his head from his shoulders. When the tormented Arjasp was slain, a great wailing rose from the women's palace. Such is the way of the turning world: sometimes we taste honey from it, sometimes poison. Why bind your heart to this fleeting inn? When you know you cannot stay here, do not grieve. Esfandiar finished with Arjasp and raised destruction from the palace up to the heavens. He ordered candles lit, and they burned them all around the hall. He handed Arjasp's harem over to a servant and carried off not a single thread from that place. He set his seal on the treasury of gold coins; no one in the hall could stand against him. He came to the stable and mounted, an Indian blade gripped in his hand. From those Arab horses he chose the finest and ordered a saddle put on it. A hundred and sixty men set out from there, chosen riders for the day of battle. He mounted his sisters on horses too, and led the army out from Arjasp's court. A number of famous Iranian men stayed in the citadel with the worthy Saveh. He said: When I go out from here, I myself with the champions will ride to the plain, shut the Turks tight inside the citadel; may good fortune be my ally. Whenever you sense that I have reached that pure-minded gathering, a shout must be raised from the watchtower: Long live the head and crown of King Goshtasp. When the army crowds at the citadel, fleeing and turned back from the battlefield, in victory, from the ramparts of the palace watch, give thanks to holy God. From that watchtower, the head of the king of the Turks must be flung down before the army. He rode out from the citadel with a hundred and sixty men, shouting and seething, toward the field of war. When he reached Peshotan's army, that famous man showered praise upon him. His whole army stood amazed at him, that so young a man had shown such courage.

When the moon took its seat on the silver throne, three watches of the dark night had already passed. The watchman kept shouting out with all his might: 'Gushtasp is king, and fortune stands with him!' When the Turks heard that shouting ring out, they all turned to listen to the voice. Kahram's heart was rattled by the watchman; his spirit was darkened by that voice. When he heard it, he said to Andariman: 'On such a dark night that voice cannot be hidden.' 'What do you think may happen tonight? We must set our stories straight.' 'Who dares to open his lips like this at a king's very bedside on this dark night?' 'We must send men to cut down every one of them with the dagger and lay their heads low.' 'What good is a watchman on the day of battle? For these famous warriors the odds will grow tight.' 'And if our enemy is one of our own household, seek out the day to treat him as a stranger.' 'For his ill-omened voice and evil prophecy, we will smash his skull with a heavy mace.' The voice went on and on like this, and Kahram's heart was worn out by the watchman. So many cries rose from every side in this way that the ears of the proud warriors were filled with noise. The army said: 'The clamor has grown great; it has passed beyond any single watchman.' 'Now let us drive the enemy from the house, and after that we will weave our schemes against this.' Kahram's heart was pressed by the watchman; he twisted about, and his face creased with frowns. He spoke to the army: 'From the king's sleep my heart is full of pain and my soul is ruined.' 'Now, without doubt, we must fall back; I do not know what will come of this after.' So the nobles turned their faces away and left the field of battle in the night. Then came Esfandiar after them, in his mail, wielding the ox-headed mace. When Kahram reached the rampart of the fortress, he saw the Iranian army behind him. He said: 'Now, other than battle, what work is left with the champion Esfandiar?' 'Let us all draw our swords from their sheaths; the message must be sent by the dagger.' When fortune turned its heat upon their faces, things went hard for those famous men. The two armies clashed in such a fury, hammering down on one another. So it went until the dawn broke, and the time ran out for the great lords of China. The men of Esfandiar climbed up onto that famous royal rampart. They cut off the head of King Arjasp, the world-ruler, the shedder of Lohrasp's blood. They threw it down before the army and finished with the war against the Turks. A great cry rose from the army of Turan; the warriors tore the caps from their heads. Arjasp's two sons broke into weeping, as if they were roasting on a blazing fire. The army understood what that battle had been, and for whom in that grim fight they should mourn. They cried: 'O generous one, O brave one, O chief, O commander, O lion-slaying lord!' 'Whoever killed you, may he lie slain on the field of vengeance; may his fortune be forever overturned.' 'To whom shall we now entrust the baggage, the banner we hold on the right wing?' 'Now that Arjasp is gone and the center is emptied, let there be no crown and no army at all.' 'The army now longs only for death; from Khallukh to Taraz all is filled with grief.' After that they all went forth to meet death, in mail, with mace and helmet. Uproar and slaughter rose from the battlefield; the air turned like a black cloud. Everywhere there were heaps of the slain, wherever a man's day had turned against him. The whole plain was strewn with headless bodies; elsewhere lay maces and clubs. Blood surged in waves before the fortress gate; who could tell left hand from right? When Esfandiar advanced from his place, the commander Kahram dug in his heels. The two fighters grappled in such a way that you would think they had been fused into one. The mighty hero seized Kahram by the belt and lifted him from the saddle. He raised him up and dashed him to the ground, and all his army called out praises. They bound his two hands and led him off in disgrace; the famous army was scattered. Maces rained down like hail; the ground was full of helmets, the air full of death. Heads flew from swords like leaves from a tree; one man spilled his blood, another won a throne. Blood surged in waves across that battlefield: one head beneath a hoof, another still crowned. No one knows what the world truly wants; it will not lay bare its secrets to us. The man who deserved a fine warhorse now rode away all at once in flight. Whoever fell into the dragon's breath struggled, yet found no escape from it. Few of the Chinese Turks were left, and if any remained, no one spoke their names. They flung down their helmets and coats of mail, and mingled blood with the tears from their eyes. They came running to Esfandiar, every eye streaming like a river. The commander was a bloodletter and cruel, and his army rejoiced in that tyrant. He gave no quarter to any of the heroes; countless of the wounded were slain. In the land of Turan no ruler remained; among the Turks of China no famous man was left. They struck the royal pavilion and the tents, and left the place to those wounded men. On that side of the fortress a star rose, as good and evil became clear from every door. He set up two tall gallows at the fortress gate and let a coiling noose hang down from them. He hung Andariman's head down low and put his brother on the gallows too. He sent troops out in every direction, wherever a trace could be found. He ordered them to set fires, and they threw the whole city of Turan into chaos. Nowhere was a famous man left; in China and Turan no horseman remained. You would think a black cloud had risen and rained down fire upon that battlefield. When the world-seeker saw the matter settled that way, he brought in the chiefs and called for wine.

He called the seasoned scribe before him and spoke at length about his plans and struggles. The good scribe sat down at his place and called for pen, paper, and sweet-scented ink. The first thing his pen wrote, once its tip was inked, was praise for the Lord of the moon. Lord of Saturn, Venus, and the sun; Lord of the elephant and of the ant alike. Lord of victory and of glory; Lord of the crown and of kingship. Lord of the soul and of reason; the giver of good and the one who shows the way. May Gushtasp be forever happy through Him, and may Lohrasp always be remembered in paradise. I have come by a road into the land of Turan that I will never bless. If I were to lay out the whole story, a young man's head would grow old with grief. Whatever my king commands, I will read to him the report of the battle. In seeing him I grow glad and joyful, freed from this long-standing suffering. And glad too from the schemes I devised, until I cleared all hatred from my heart. Of Arjasp and Kohram, nothing was left in the Brazen Fortress but mourning, pain, and grief. I spared no one's life; the grass in the desert brought forth its fruit. Lion and wolf devour men's brains, and the great leopard seeks nothing but the heart. May the sky shine with Gushtasp's crown, and may the earth be a garden through King Lohrasp. When they sealed the letter with Esfandiyar's seal and sought out several riders, the new commander sent swift, foam-flecked camels off to Iran. He stayed to await the answer to the letter, and had the fire kill the evil-minded man. Not long passed before the answer came, a letter that was the key to a hard lock. The letter's opening said first of all: may whoever seeks good endure forever. The wise man who knows God gives thanks to God through his goodness. Next it said: from the one just God we ask that He be your guide. I have planted a tree in the garden of paradise more fruitful than any Fereydun ever grew. Its fruit is red ruby and gold, and every leaf of it is beauty and splendor. May this tree last forever; may your heart be happy and your fortune bright. One matter is this: you said that, to avenge your grandfather, you set out full of cunning and craft. Another is what you said about shedding blood, about entering the fight alone. The bodies of kings are precious things that grew famous through great effort. Guard your body and that reason which nourishes the soul with knowledge. The third thing you said: that you spared no one's life among all those riders. May your heart always be kind and warm, your soul full of modesty, your lips soft-spoken. May bloodshed never be your trade, nor fighting with the great when there is no just cause. To avenge your thirty-eight brothers you have gone beyond all measure in shedding blood. And another matter: that aged grandfather had put evil and trickery far from his heart. When they shed his blood, you shed blood in turn, and fought like battle-lions. May you always be happy and prosperous, and may wisdom be your soul's teacher. We long to see you, and to see your wakeful, deeply wise soul. Once you have read this letter, set out at once; come to this court with your bold warriors. The swift camel turned back from the gate, and all the land of Iran was filled with the news. When the camel-riders returned, they came before the mighty hero.

When Esfandiar had read that letter through, he gave out gold and set his affairs in order. Except for Arjasp's treasury, nothing was left; he scattered all the wealth of Arjasp's kinsmen. His whole army grew rich through him, richer than any measure could hold. Camels and horses spread across plain and mountain, all branded with the mark of Turan's warlord. He called for camels, ten thousand of every kind, scattered across plain and highland. He threw open all of Arjasp's treasury and began to weigh out the silver coins. A thousand camels loaded with the royal gold, and about three hundred with brocade, thrones, and crowns. A hundred with musk, amber, and jewels, a hundred with crowns and famous royal diadems. He ordered a thousand loads of fine floor-brocades to be packed and burdened onto the beasts. About three hundred camels of Chinese cloth, of woven stuff, cloth of gold, and silk. He prepared a curtained litter and grand brocade, and two troops of Chinese slave-girls were led along. Their faces like spring, their figures like cypress, their waists slender as reeds, walking like pheasants. Alongside the sisters of brave Esfandiar went a hundred famous idol-faced maidens. Five of Arjasp's veiled women were taken away with lament, grief, and pain. Two sisters, two daughters, and his mother, full of sorrow, mourning, and wounded to the heart, at his side. When he set fire to the Brazen Fortress, the flames rose up to the high heavens. He leveled all the city's ramparts to the ground and raised dust from the whole land of China. The commander said to his three young sons: split up and travel, each paired with a share of the treasure. If anyone on the road turns aside from justice, gladly strike off their heads with your daggers. You take the desert road; carry your spearpoints gleaming like the sun. I will head toward my Seven Trials to hunt the lion; I will find you, so do not linger on the way. First I will secure the road ahead, and see you again at the new moon. Esfandiar set out toward the Seven Trials, off to hunt with a famous army. When he reached that cold place, he found all the plunder gathered right where it had been. The air was pleasant, the earth was full of color; you would think spring had arrived in midwinter. From that spot he took up the treasure, still marveling at the workings of fate. When he drew near the land of Iran, he reached the country of the bold and the lion-hearted. For two weeks he stayed there with hunting-leopard and hawk, worn out by the toil of the long road. He was watching for his three noble sons, and their delay filled his heart with anger. When the sons came to their father, he smiled at each crowned prince. He said, this road I traveled was rough, and your late arrival had upset me. All three sons kissed the ground: who in the world could have a father like you? From there he made for Iran, and hauled all the treasure to the brave warriors. The whole city of Iran decked itself out; they called for wine, music, and singers. They hung fine cloth from the walls and sprinkled musk and amber from above. The air was full of the singers' voices, the ground full of spear-bearing riders. When Goshtasp heard, he chose celebration, and to that music he raised the cup of wine. He ordered every man in the army, and everyone in the land who had shown greatness, to come with banners and drums; the great ones of the army went out to welcome him. The father went out with famous wise men, with great sages and priests. He came before his son with a bright face, the whole city of Iran alive with talk. When the young king saw his father's face, his heart turned glad and his spirit bright. He spurred his night-black horse into motion, the one that kindles the fire of war. He came and took his father in his arms; the father marveled at what his son had done. He kept praising his glory over and over: may earth and time never be without you. From there they went to the king's palace, and a whole world came wishing them well. Goshtasp adorned the palace and the throne; his heart rejoiced in that fortunate son. In the halls they laid out the feast; he told the steward, summon the great ones. From every domed hall a cupbearer came before that famous king. Royal wine in crystal cups, the cupbearer serving it, radiant as the sun. It lit up every friend's face and burned the hearts of enemies like fire. The son drank, shyly toasting his father; the father likewise toasting his son. Goshtasp asked about the Seven Trials; the son said to his father, read the letter. Let us call to mind the old tales and give our words their due of justice. When tomorrow, sober, you hear it, you will trust in the victory the just God grants. Everyone who had grown drunk went off, each with a moon-faced maiden hand in hand. Now the tale of the Seven Trials is done; read it in the name of the world's Judge, who gave power over good and evil, the Lord of the sun and the shining moon. If the victorious king approves of this, we have placed a saddle on the turning sky.