The Seven Trials of Esfandiar

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.