Part 11: The Battle at the Fortress

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.