English
Section 13: The Night Battle and the Fall of Turan
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.