Fereydun

When Fereydun became master of the world, he recognized no ruler but himself. In the manner of the ancient kings, he adorned the crown, the throne, and the royal palace of majesty. On a blessed day, at the start of the month of Mehr, he set that royal crown upon his head. The age was freed from the sorrow of wickedness, and everyone took the path of God. They cleared their hearts of quarrels and, by custom, arranged a new festival. The wise sat down contented, each one lifting a cup of ruby. Bright wine, the face of the new king, a world made new by justice, and the start of a new month. He ordered fires to be kindled; they burned amber and saffron together. Honoring the festival of Mehregan is his faith; ease of body and good feasting are his custom. If the month of Mehr is his lasting keepsake, then work hard, and never let hardship show on your face. For five hundred years the world was his, and not for a single day did he lay a foundation of evil. Since the world did not remain even for him, my son, you too must not worship greed nor eat your heart with grief. Know that the world stays with no one like this; you will not find much lasting joy in it. Faranak did not know this secret, that her son had become king over the world. The royal throne was emptied of Zahhak; his days of majesty had come to their end. Then the news of the fortunate son came to the mother, that her child had become the crown bearer. Giving praise, she washed her head and body and came first before the Judge of the world. She laid her head low upon the dust and called down curses upon Zahhak. She sang praises to the Creator for that joyful turning of fortune. After that, to anyone who was in need, she kept her own days of hardship as a hidden secret. She gave them wealth in secret and told no one, keeping her own affair concealed. For a whole week she gave away like this, until the poor could no longer be recognized as poor. The next week she prepared a banquet for the great ones who held their heads high. She adorned her house like a garden and made all the nobles her guests. After that, all the treasure she had prepared, gathered and kept hidden away, she began to open up those treasures and set her whole mind on giving. She saw it was the time to open the treasury door; coins became worthless in her eyes now that she had seen her son a king. There were royal garments and kingly jewels, and Arab horses with golden bridles; coats of mail, helmets, javelins and swords, crown and belt, she spared none of it. She loaded all the wealth onto camels and turned her pure heart toward the Lord of the world. She sent the goods to her son, and with them a tongue full of blessing. When the king of the earth saw those gifts, he accepted them and gave praise to his mother. When the great men of the army learned of it, they hurried to the king of the world. They said: O victorious king who knows God, praise be to Him, and through Him our thanks to you. May your fortune grow greater on such a day, and may the fortune of ill wishers be cast down. May victory come to you from heaven; may your mind hold nothing but justice and goodness. After that, those who had seen the world took the road toward the king from every corner. They mingled gold and jewels together and poured them upon the commander's crown. The chief men from every one of his lands, with great joy, formed ranks at his gate. They begged God's blessing upon that crown and throne, that royal cap and signet ring. They all raised their hands to the sky and called on good thoughts for him. Saying: may such a king live forever, and may such times be fruitful. After that, Fereydun traveled around the world and saw both what was open and what was hidden. Wherever he saw something following the path of injustice, wherever he saw a land that was not flourishing, he bound every hand of evil with goodness, as befits the way of the wise. He adorned the world until it was like paradise; where weeds had grown he planted cypress and rose. He passed from Amol toward Tamisheh and settled in that famous woodland. In the world they call it Gush; you will not know it by any name but this.

When about fifty years of his life had passed, three cherished sons were born to him. By the fortune of the world's ruler, all three were sons; three princes of royal blood, worthy of the golden crown. Tall as cypress trees, faces bright as spring, resembling their kingly father in every way. Two of the three were born of the pure Shahrnaz, and the youngest from the lovely Arnavaz. Their father had not yet given them names when they began to march like young elephants. From among his own famous men, Fereydun summoned the most distinguished one. His name was Jandal, a man of many talents, loyal and devoted to the king in every task. He told him: travel across the world and choose three daughters from noble lineage. Three sisters from one mother and one father, fairy-faced, pure, and of royal blood. In their beauty worthy of my three sons, fitting to be joined to my house. All three alike in height and appearance, so that one could scarcely be told from another. When Jandal heard the king's words, he laid the foundation of a sound plan. For he was alert of mind and clear of thought, smooth of tongue and fit for delicate work. He set out from the commander's presence on the road, with several trusted men beside him. One by one he swept through the whole of Iran, inquiring and speaking with all kinds of people. In every land where some great noble of the world kept a daughter behind the veil, he secretly sought out all their secrets, and heard all their names and reputations. But among the wealthy nobles he found none whose daughter was worthy to marry Fereydun's sons. Wise, bright of heart, and pure of body, he came to Sarv, the king of Yemen. Jandal found the true sign he sought: three daughters, exactly as Fereydun had wished. He came gracefully into Sarv's presence, like a pheasant approaching a rose. He kissed the ground and spoke sweet words, heaping praise upon his own humble station. The king of Yemen said to Jandal: may your mouth never be without such graceful speech. What message do you carry, what command do you bring? An envoy is a welcome traveler. Jandal answered: may you be joyful, and may misfortune stay far from you always. I am a humble servant from Iran, like a devotee, come to bring a message to the king of Yemen. I bring the greetings of the fortunate Fereydun, and I will answer whatever you ask. Fereydun the hero sends you his blessing; only a fool would fail to honor a man like you. He told me: say to the king of Yemen, may you thrive on your throne as long as musk gives its scent. Know this, chief of the Arabs: may you be forever safe from ill fortune. I have a flourishing kingdom, along with treasure, valor, and the strength of my arm. Three sons worthy of the crown and throne, fit, if such a tale could be, to marry the moon itself. Free of any want or desire, their hands reaching every wish they choose. These three precious princes must now, in privacy, be given three worthy brides. I learned the news from those who know such matters, and I hurried eagerly upon that news, that behind your veil, O seeker of fame, you keep three pure daughters, faces hidden. All three still without names given; when I heard this my heart grew glad, for we too, fittingly, have not yet named our three sons of blessed lineage. Now these two precious kinds of jewels must be joined and blended with one another. Seek three crowns for the three veiled faces, worthy matched to worthy, without dispute. This is the message Fereydun gave me; now give whatever answer comes to your mind. When the king of Yemen heard the message, he withered like a jasmine cut from its water. He said to himself: if these three moons, the light of my eyes, no longer rest beside my pillow, my bright day will turn to dark night, yet I must open my lips to give an answer. He said to the envoy: O seeker of fame, such a matter requires time for talk. You must not rush me now for an answer; I have several secret matters to weigh with my counselors. He quickly gave the messenger a place to stay, and then turned his attention to the matter. He went in and closed the door of audience, and sat down amid a crowd of anxious thoughts. He summoned many men from the plain of spearmen, tested chiefs, to his side. He brought his hidden secrets out into the open and told them all his thoughts. He said: in this world, of my own blood, I have three bright candles gleaming before my eyes. Fereydun has sent me a message; he has spread before me a beautiful trap. He means to take them from my sight; I must take counsel with you all. The envoy says the king declares: we have three princes worthy of the throne, each drawn to a bond with me, to marry my three veiled daughters. If I say yes while my heart is empty of it, such a lie is unbecoming of a king. And if I hand over my heart's desires to him, my heart fills with fire and my face with tears. And if I turn away from his command and step aside from his covenant, one who is the king of the earth, it is no game to plot enmity against him. I have heard from experienced men what came upon Zahhak at his hands. Whatever thoughts you have on this matter, lay them all fully before me. The world-tested, valiant chiefs opened their tongues one by one to answer. They said: none of us think it wise that you should shift from your place at every wind. If Fereydun has become king of the world, we are not slaves fit only to wear earrings. Speech and struggle are our custom; wielding rein and spear is our creed. With the sword we can turn the earth into a wasteland; with the spear we can turn the sky into a thicket of reeds. If your three daughters are precious to you, open your purse but keep your lips sealed. But if you seek a way out of this affair and you fear this great kingdom, then demand from him such lofty conditions that no one could ever see them fulfilled. When he heard these words from his nobles, he could see neither head nor end to the matter.

He called the king's messenger before him and spoke at length, with grace and care. He said: I am a servant to your king; whatever he commands, I obey. Tell him that, high as your station is, your three children are more precious to you still. A son is dear to a king, especially one who graces the throne. Whatever you have said, I accept it; but I measure it against my own daughters. If the king asks my eyes of me, or the wide plains and the throne of Yemen, still I hold them cheaper than my three children, whom I cannot bear to lose when I need them near. So if this is what the king desires, I dare not take a single step beyond his command. By the king's own order these three children of mine will then come forth, parted from me. For then I will meet your three kings, the splendor of your crown and throne. Let all three come to me; this dark city of mine will grow bright. My heart will rejoice to see them; I will look upon their wakeful souls. I will see whether their hearts are full of justice, and I will take their hands in trust and pledge. Then my three bright, world-seeing daughters I will entrust to them, in my own custom. Once the longing to meet them is satisfied, I will send them swiftly back to the king. When Jandal the envoy heard this answer, he kissed the throne, as was fitting. With praise upon his lips, he left that hall and turned his face toward the king of the world. When he came and reached Fereydun, he told what had been said and the answer he had heard. The king of the world called his three children; he brought forth what he had kept hidden. About Jandal's journey and his own plan he laid out every word plainly before them. He said: This king of Yemen, chief of the assembly, a cypress casting shade, has three daughters, like unpierced pearls; he has no son, his daughters are his crown. If Soroush himself sought brides like them, he would only be granted the honor of bowing at their feet. For your sake I asked their father; I arranged all the words that were needed. Now you must go to him, and in matters great and small give wise counsel. Be eloquent and keen of mind; keep both ears fixed on what he says. Answer his words with grace; when he asks, give wise and fortunate replies. For one raised by a king must be nothing less than virtuous. Well spoken, bright of heart, pure of faith, foresighted in whatever task comes his way, his tongue adorned with truth, his wisdom outshining any wealth. Whatever I say, hear it from me; if you act on it, you will thrive. The king of Yemen sees deep; no assembly holds his equal. All three sons, worthy and pure, set their hearts on their father's words. They came out from Fereydun's presence, full of knowledge and full of charm. What else would suit a son raised by such a father, but wisdom and knowledge?

All three swift as the wind went home; when night came they slept, victorious and glad. When the sun cast its light across the sky, it scattered crimson over the blue. They set out, and all three prepared themselves, calling the priests to travel with them. They rode out with an army vast as the heavens, all famous men with faces bright as the sun. When Sarv, king of Yemen, learned they were coming, he arrayed his army bright as a pheasant's plumage. He sent a great host to meet them, both wise strangers and his own kin alike. These three noble men entered Yemen, and men and women poured out of the city. They scattered jewels and saffron before them, and mingled musk with wine. The manes of the horses were drenched in musk and wine, and gold coins lay strewn beneath their hooves. The king of Yemen prepared a hall of audience, and all the great names gathered together. He opened his ancient treasuries and revealed what had long been kept secret. His three sun faced daughters, lovely as a garden of paradise, cypresses no gardener could match. Crowned and wealthy, they had never known hardship, save the twisting turmoil suffered by their curls. He brought all three and handed them over: three new moons wed to three noble kings. In his heart the king of Yemen thought with rancor: Fereydun has brought this trouble upon me. It came from me, and may I never survive it, that the seed of the noble Kayanids should turn out female. Count that man lucky who has no daughter; if a daughter is born, his star grows dim. Before all the priests, Sarv declared: a king is a fitting husband for the moon. Know this: these three, the very light of my eyes, I have given to them according to my custom. So that they may cherish them like their own eyes, and hold them in their hearts as dear as life. Then he called out, and the strangers' baggage was loaded onto the backs of raging, rutting camels. The camel litters glowed with the jewels of Yemen, each stitched to the next in one long train. When a child has grace and glory, it is precious to the heart, whether female or male. The clear sighted young men, seekers of the road, set their faces toward Fereydun.

When he had drawn out what lay hidden, Feraydun split the world into three parts. One was Rome and the West, another the land of the Turks and China, and the third the plain of heroes and the land of Iran. First he looked to Salm: all of Rome and the West suited him well. He ordered an army chosen, and Salm marched proudly toward the West. He set foot on the royal throne, and they hailed him lord of the West. Next he gave the land of Turan to Tur, making him chief of the Turks and China. The king appointed an army for him, and then Tur led his troops on the road. He came and sat upon the royal throne, tied his belt of command and opened his hand in giving. The nobles showered jewels over him and called him the pure king of Turan. When their turn came round to Iraj, his father chose him as king of Iran. Both Iran and the plain of the spearmen, and the royal throne and the crown of the great, he gave to him, for the crown befitted him: the seat, the royal seal, and that throne of ivory. All three sat down in peace and joy, three rulers of a blessed and noble line.

A long time passed over these days, and fate held a secret hidden in its heart. The wise Fereydun grew old; the spring of his life gathered dust. This is how everything ends: when a thing grows old, its strength gives out. When darkness crept into his affairs, the noble ones seized on arrogance. Salm's heart stirred and shifted from its place; his manner and his thinking turned different. His heart drowned in greed, and he sat in thought with a counselor. His father's division did not please him, for he had given the golden throne to the youngest son. With hatred in his heart and a frown on his face, he sent a messenger to the king of China. He sent word to his brother: May you live forever, joyful and content. Know this, great king of the Turks and China: our bright hopes have been cut off from the best of things. It seems you accept loss instead of good, a lowly spirit while you stand tall as a cypress. Now hear a tale from me the likes of which you have never heard from ancient times. We were three sons worthy of the throne; one, the youngest of us, rose up by fortune. Though I am greater in years and wisdom, fate has come to suit me with its favor. Setting me aside, the crown and throne and diadem suit no one but you, my king. It is right that we should both remain grieved, for our father has wronged us this way. For he gives Iran, the plain of heroes, and Yemen to Iraj, and Rome and the West to me, and hands you the land of the Turks and China, while the command of Iran is denied you. In this division I find no footing; there was no sound judgment in our father's mind. The messenger's swift camel set out and came before the lord of Turan. He recited well all that he had memorized, and filled the empty head of Tur with wind. When brave Tur heard this secret, he suddenly flared up like a lion. He answered thus: Say this to the king, and keep these very words in mind: In our youth our father deceived us in just this way, O you who call yourself just. This is a tree he planted with his own hand, whose water is blood and whose leaves are bitter poison. Now, over this matter, you and I must turn to meet face to face. We must plan soberly, watch closely, and send a swift camel to the king. An eloquent, smooth-tongued speaker among us must be sent to the king of the world. In place of weakness and in place of trickery, the bold king must find no chance to breathe easy. No delay at all suits this affair; what comfort can there be in hesitation? When the messenger brought back the answer, the face that had hidden its secret was laid bare. One brother set out from Rome, the other from China, honey mixed with poison in their hearts. They came together at last, and spoke of everything, openly and in secret. Then they chose a shrewd, sharp priest: eloquent, clear-sighted, and quick to remember. They cleared the place of strangers and began to weigh every kind of plan. Salm was the first to speak; shame before his father washed over his eyes. He told the messenger: cross the road so fast that not even wind or dust can catch you. When you dismount at Fereydoun's palace, first give greetings from both his sons. Then tell him: the fear of God should guide a man in this world and the next. A young man can hope for old age to come, but hair once turned white never turns black again. Why linger in this narrow place, when the house of delay has grown too tight for you? The pure God gave you the whole world, from the shining sun down to the dark earth. But you shaped every custom and path to your own desire; you paid no heed to God's command. You sought nothing but crookedness and wrong; you brought no fairness into your division. You had three sons, wise and brave; the eldest of us was clear of mind and alert. You saw no greater merit in any one of us that would make another bow his head to him. Yet you cast one into the dragon's jaws, and lifted another up to the clouds. And on one you set a crown beside your pillow, and through him your eyes rejoiced in the world. We are not less than him in mother or father, nor unworthy of the royal throne. O just king of the earth, on such a judgment let there never be any blessing. If the crown is taken from that worthless head, and the world is freed of him, and you hand him some corner of the world, where he may sit hidden and wounded as we have, then good. If not, the riders of the Turks and China, and the champions of Rome, hungry for vengeance, I will gather a mace-bearing army from every land, and wipe Iraj out of Iran entirely. When the priest heard this harsh message, he kissed the ground and turned to go. He set his foot in the stirrup as swiftly as fire leaps up when the wind stirs it. He reached the court of King Fereydoun and saw a tower whose top vanished from sight. Its height reached into the clouds, its breadth stretched from mountain to mountain. Nobles sat at its gate, and behind the curtains were the seats of the great. On one side lions and leopards were bound, on the other, mighty war elephants. From so many precious, daring warriors a roar went up like the voice of a lion. You would have thought the palace was the sky itself, with a mighty army standing all around it. The alert watchmen went and spoke to the king of the world. They said, A messenger has come before the king, a proud man of high rank and standing. The king ordered the curtain drawn aside, and they let his horse pass through from the gate. When his eyes fell upon Fereydoun's face, his whole gaze and heart were filled with the king. Tall as a cypress, his face bright as the sun, his hair like camphor scattered over a red rose. Both lips full of smiling, both cheeks full of modesty, a royal tongue full of gentle speech. At once Fereydoun raised him from where he stood and gave him a fitting place beside himself. First he asked about his two dear sons, whether they were happy in heart and sound in body. Then he said, You have grown weary from a long, distant road, through valleys and over heights. The messenger said, O precious king, may no one ever see this royal court without you. Whoever you ask about lives under your favor; all live gloriously by your name. I am a servant unworthy of the king, and toward myself I have been thoughtless in this. I have brought a harsh message to the king; the sender is full of rage, but I am innocent. I will speak, when the king commands me, the message of the two rash young men. Then the king ordered him to open his mouth, and he recited all he had heard, from beginning to end. Fereydoun opened his ears wide to him, and when he heard, his mind boiled with fury. He said to the messenger, O clever one, you have no need to apologize now. For this is exactly what I expected from them; I had already turned it over in my heart. That no greatness comes from bad seed, my heart had given me this warning. Tell those two foul and worthless men, those two demons with rotted minds: Bravo, you have shown your true nature; a greeting like this was just what you deserved. If your minds are empty of my counsel, then you had no awareness of wisdom at all. You have no shame and no fear of God; it seems this is truly all your judgment amounts to. Once my hair was black as pitch, my body straight as a cypress, my face like the moon. The turning sky that bent my back is not itself brought low; it still turns in its place. This same passage of time will bend you too; it does not endure like this for long. By the highest name of the pure God, by the shining sun and the dark earth, by the throne, the crown, by Venus and the moon: I never once looked on you with ill intent. I gathered a council of the wise, of astronomers and priests. This took a long stretch of time; I did not divide the earth on a whim. In all this I sought only what was right; crookedness has neither a clear head nor foundation. The fear of God was present throughout; I wanted only justice in the world. When they handed me a flourishing world, I did not look to break its harmony apart. I said instead: let me pass on this prosperous throne to my three fortunate sons. Now if the demon has dragged your hearts off my path into crookedness and darkness, consider whether the exalted Creator will ever find such conduct pleasing in you. Let me tell you a saying, if you will hear it: you reap exactly what you sow. Thus the guiding word once told us: our lasting home is elsewhere than this world. Greed has climbed onto the throne of your reason; why has such a demon become your partner? I fear that in the grip of this dragon your souls will slip free of their bodies. For me the time to leave this world is near; this is no time for rage and turmoil. Yet this is what that old man says, the one who had three freeborn sons: when greed is emptied out of the heart, what difference is there between plain dirt and the imperial crown? Whoever sells his brother for a handful of earth deserves not to be counted among the pure. The world has seen many like you and will see more; it will not stay tame for anyone. So all that you can learn about the Creator, know it: salvation comes on the day of reckoning. Seek it, and make it your provision for the road; strive to make your suffering brief. The messenger listened to his words, kissed the ground, and turned to go. He left Feridun's presence so fast you would say he had joined forces with the wind.

When Salm's messenger had returned, the great king sat down and opened his heart. He called his beloved, ambitious son to him and repeated to him all that had been said. He told him: those two warlike sons have turned toward us from the East. This is the portion their stars have given them: to take joy in wicked deeds. Another cause is that two kingdoms nourished them, and in those lands cruelty took root. Your brother is only your brother so long as the crown rests on your head. Once the color drains from your face, he will no longer circle your bed with care. If you meet the sword with kindness, your head will be thrown into confusion by their judgment. My two sons, who from two shoulders of the world have opened their tongues against me like this, If your life matters to you, get ready: open the treasury and tie up your baggage. If you reach for the cup at breakfast, my son, they may eat you up by supper. You need no companion in this world: harmlessness and honesty are companions enough. Then the renowned Iraj looked upon his kind, pure, and fortunate father. He answered: my king, consider how the turning of time goes. Since it passes over us like the wind, why should a wise person grieve? Time withers the rosy face and darkens the bright and radiant soul. At the start there is treasure, and at the end there is toil, and after the toil, departure from this borrowed lodging. Since our bed will be of earth and our pillow of brick, why plant a tree today? For however the wheel of heaven passes above it, its trunk drinks blood and bears a fruit of hatred. The master of the sword, the throne, and the royal seal: the earth has seen many like us and will see more. Of all those crowned and celebrated men before us, none held such vengeance to be their custom. If my king will permit me, I will not let evil pass my days with evil. I do not need the crown, the throne, or the royal cap; I will go to them, running, without an army. I will say: O my renowned ones, as dear to me as my own body and soul, do not, without cause, hold anger and hatred against the king of the earth. Do not place so much hope in this world; look what it did to Jamshid. In the end he too left the world, and neither crown, throne, nor royal belt remained to him. In the end, I too, along with you, must taste the bitterness of time. I will turn their hate-filled hearts back to love; that is worthier than that I answer hate with hate. The king said to him: O wise son, your brother seeks war while you seek a feast. I must take these words to heart: from the moon, no wonder that light should come. Such an answer, full of wisdom, befits you; your heart has chosen love and kinship with them. But when a life becomes worthless, and one wise sets his foot in the dragon's mouth, what awaits him but consuming poison? For that is his share from creation. If, my son, this is your decision, then set your affairs in order and prepare your place. Command some servants from among the army to go with you on the road. Out of my heart's grief, I will now write a letter and send it to that gathering. Perhaps I will see you again unharmed, for the light of my soul is in seeing you.

The king of the earth wrote a letter to the lord of the East and the ruler of China. He began the letter with praise of God, who is and forever remains in place. He said: this letter full of counsel goes to two suns risen high, two mighty men, two warriors, two kings of the earth, shining like a jewel among the great. To the one who has seen the world in all its forms, its open and its hidden ways laid bare before him, the wielder of the sword and heavy mace, the one who makes famous crowns gleam bright, who turns dark night into white day, who opens the treasure before hope's eyes, for whom all hardships have become easy, and toward whom brightness has turned its face. I do not want a crown for myself, nor heaped-up treasure, nor throne, nor royal seat. For my three sons I want only ease and comfort, after all the long suffering we have known. The brother whose fate has grieved your hearts, though no cold wind ever touched him, has come running because your absence pained him, for he longed to see you again. He set aside his own kingship and chose you, as befits the way of noble men. He stepped down from the throne and mounted the saddle, set out, and girded himself for service. Since in years he is the younger of you, and kindness to the younger is only fitting, hold him dear and feast in joy; once the body is nourished, nourish the soul as well. When a few days of his stay have passed, send him back to me with honor and esteem. They set the king's seal upon the letter, and from the palace Iraj chose the road. He went with a few companions, young and old, as the journey required.

When Iraj drew close to them, he had no idea of the darkness in their thoughts. They welcomed him with their customary honors, and the whole army led him forward. When they looked upon their brother with affection, their faces lit up all the brighter. Two who craved a fight and one of good nature exchanged greetings, though not from real desire. Two hearts full of hatred and one heart still true, all three went into the royal tent. The whole army looked at Iraj and saw that he alone deserved the throne and the crown. Their hearts grew restless with love for him, hearts full of his love and eyes full of his face. The soldiers scattered off in pairs, and everywhere Iraj's name was on their lips in secret. Saying, 'This is the one worthy of kingship; the crown of majesty suits no one but him.' Salm watched the army from the edge, and what he saw among them weighed heavy on his mind. He came to his own camp with a heart full of spite, his liver burning with blood, his brows knit in a frown. He cleared the tent of the gathering, then sat down with Tur to plot together. Their talk probed every subject: kingship, and the crown of every land. In the midst of this, Salm said to Tur, 'Why did the soldiers pair off, one by one? On the way back, it seems you paid no attention to the troops. The armies of us two kings were one thing when they went to greet him and another when they returned. For all that stretch of road they traveled, they never took their eyes off Iraj even once. Over Iran my heart was already torn in two, and now my worries have only multiplied. When I watched the armies of both our lands, I saw that from now on they will call no one king but him. If you don't tear his roots out of the ground, he'll drag you down from your high throne beneath his feet.' In this manner they rose from their places, and all night long they schemed for a way out.

When the veil was lifted from the sun's face and dawn broke, sleep drained away. The two worthless brothers had set their hearts on that deed, having washed their eyes clean of all shame. Both rose and strode from where they stood, heading toward the royal pavilion. When Iraj saw them coming down the road, his heart full of love, he ran out to meet them. They went inside the tent with him, and the talk turned mostly to 'why' and 'how.' Tur said to him: 'If you are the youngest of us, why have you placed the crown of kingship on your head? Should you get Iran and the throne of the kings, while I stand at the border of the Turks with my belt tightened for war? And my elder brother toil in the East, while a crown sits on your head and treasure lies beneath you? The share that our world seeking father gave, he turned it all toward his youngest son. Now I have neither the crown of the kings nor a throne, neither the fame of greatness nor the army of Iran.' When Iraj heard Tur's words, he framed a purer answer at their root. He said: 'My ambitious elder brother, if you want your heart's desire, seek peace instead. I want neither Iran nor the East nor China, neither kingship nor the whole face of the earth. A greatness whose end is darkness, one must weep over that kind of lordship. Even if the high heavens set you in the saddle, in the end a brick will be your pillow in the grave. Even if the throne of Iran were beneath me, I am now sick of the crown and the throne. I hand over to you the crown and the royal seal; do not hold this against me with hatred. I have no quarrel or war with you; there is no need to burden the soul with such things. I do not want the world at the price of harming you, even if I am kept far from your sight. Humility is my only creed; may greed and arrogance never be my faith.' When Tur heard this from his brother, his brow furrowed with rage. Iraj's words did not please him; honesty held no worth in his eyes. In fury he stamped his foot on the stool, kept talking and kept leaping up from his place. All at once he sprang up from where he sat and seized that heavy golden stool in his hand. He struck it on the head of the crowned prince, and Iraj begged him to spare his life. 'Do you feel no fear of God? No shame before our own father? Is this your judgment? Do not kill me, for in the end the Creator will call you to account for my blood. Do not make yourself one of the murderers, for after this you will find no trace of me anyway. I will be content with some corner of this world; through my own labor I will gather my bread. Why gird yourself to shed a brother's blood? Why set fire to the heart of our aged father? You wanted the world and you have won it, so do not spill blood; do not defy God who rules the world.' When Tur heard these words he gave no reply; the same talk went on, the same cold breath. He drew a bright, water sheened dagger and draped Iraj's whole body in a cloak of blood. With that sharp, poison bright dagger he ripped open the royal chest. That slender cypress toppled from its feet; the belt of imperial majesty snapped. Blood streamed from that rose colored face, and that famed young king was gone. O world, you cradled him in your arms, and then you gave his life no mercy at all. I do not know who your secret friend may be; but for these open acts of yours, one must weep. He cut the crowned head from that elephant strong body with the dagger, and the deed was done. He packed the skull with musk and perfume and sent it to the aged giver of the world, their father. He wrote: 'Here is the head of that beggar to whom the crown of the ancestors was given. Now give him a crown if you wish, or a throne; that shade giving, needy tree has fallen.' Then those two cruel and cursed brothers went their ways, one toward the land of the Turks, one toward Rome.

Fereydun kept his eyes fixed on the road, longing for the king, his army, and his crown. It was the season for the king to return; how could the father know what had happened? He had a throne of turquoise made ready for the king, and set jewels into the crown. They prepared to welcome him, calling for wine, music, and singers. They brought out drums and elephants from the gate, and hung banners across every province. The king and his army waited in their saddles when a cloud of dark dust rose from the road. Out of that dark dust came a camel, and on it sat a rider heavy with grief and pain. The mourning heart let out a cry; at his side he carried a golden coffin. Inside the golden coffin, wrapped in silk, lay the head of Iraj. With wailing and sighs and a pale face, that bold man came before Fereydun. They lifted the lid from the golden coffin, for they had thought his words might be too much to bear. When he drew the silk aside from the coffin, the severed head of Iraj came into view. Fereydun fell from his horse to the ground, and the whole army tore their garments in grief. His face turned black and his eyes went white, for he had hoped to see something wholly different. When the king returned from the road in such a state, so too the welcoming army turned back. The banners were torn, the drums turned upside down, the faces of the nobles dark as ebony. The drums were blackened, the elephants' faces too, and indigo smeared across the Arab horses. The commander on foot, the army on foot, their heads full of dust, they took to the road. The champions cried out in pain, tearing the flesh of their own bodies for that noble man. This is how the heavens turn against us: the moment they show their face, they mean to snatch away. Do not put your trust in the love of this age; a bow that is drawn straight bends true only to strike. Treat it as an enemy and it shows you affection; call it a friend and it hides its face from you. I give you one piece of true advice: you must wash your heart clean of love for this world. With hearts branded by grief for the king, wailing and crying, the army turned toward Iraj's garden. In a place where once the kings held their festivals, and before that had been their banquet halls, Fereydun came, staggering, carrying in his arms the head of the young king, his son. He looked upon that royal throne, but he did not see the king's head beneath the crown. The same pool of the kings, the tall cypress, the blossom-scattering tree, the willow and the quince, he found the festive garden empty of the free and noble, its dark dust risen to the star Saturn. He set the garden ablaze, tore at his own face, shed tears and pulled out his hair. He bound his waist with a blood-red belt of grief and set fire to the hall where he had sat. He uprooted the rose-garden and burned the cypresses; all at once he sealed his eyes against joy. Cradling Iraj's head against him, he lifted his own head toward the Creator. He said: O just Judge, look upon this innocent one who was slain. His head was cut off with a dagger before my eyes, his body devoured by the lions of that gathering. Burn the hearts of those two tyrants so fiercely that they never see anything but dark days. Sear their livers with such a brand that even wild beasts would pity them. I ask this from the radiant Creator: that I may be granted enough time in this world for a famous son to come from Iraj's line and gird himself to avenge this blood. Once I have seen that, I will be content, even if the dust of the grave covers me over. He wept in this way so long and so bitterly that grass grew where he sat. The earth his bed and dust his pillow, his world-seeing eyes went dark from weeping. His eyes shut tight, his tongue loosed, he kept saying: O Judge of the righteous, no crowned king ever died the way this renowned hero has died. The evil one cut off his head in cruelty, and the jaws of lions became his body's shroud. A cry of grief, an eye full of tears, robbed every beast and bird of rest and sleep. Across the whole land, men and women gathered in mourning everywhere. All eyes full of tears, all hearts full of blood, they sat in sorrow, burning within. All dressed in blue and black, they sat in grief, mourning the king. How many such days they passed, until all of life seemed to them like death.

After some more time had passed, the king looked into Iraj's chambers. He saw a beautiful, graceful servant whose name was Mah-Afrid. Iraj had loved her deeply, and by fate the girl was carrying his child. This lovely woman secretly bore a child, and the king of the world rejoiced at this. His heart filled with hope because of her, and he promised his heart revenge through this son. When the time of birth arrived, a daughter was born to Mah-Afrid. A whole world took up her raising, and she grew up in comfort and greatness. That moon-faced girl, from head to toe, you would think was Iraj himself come back. When she grew up and the time for marriage came, her face was like the Pleiades and her hair like musk. Her grandfather betrothed her to Pashang; he gave her to him, and some time went by. That gifted, moon-like woman bore a son, one truly worthy of the throne and crown. When he was parted from his loving mother, they quickly carried him to his great-grandfather. The high priest said to him: Crowned king, gladden your heart, look upon this image of Iraj. The lips of the world-giver filled with a smile; you would think Iraj had come alive again for him. He held that precious child in his arms and offered his prayers to the Creator. He said: May this day be blessed, and may the hearts of our enemies be torn out. As soon as he remembered the Creator of the world, God forgave him and gave his eyesight back. When Fereydun saw the world clearly, he quickly gazed at the newborn's face. He said: From a pure mother and father a worthy branch has borne its fruit. Clear wine has come from a precious cup; this new face shall bear the name Manuchehr. He raised him so tenderly that not even the passing breeze was allowed to touch him. Any servant who held him in her arms would not let his feet touch the ground. Pure musk lay beneath his feet, and a silken canopy moved above his head. So the years passed over him, and no harm ever came to him from the stars. All the skills a king needs, the famous ruler taught him. When the king's eyes and heart had opened wide, the army too joined its voice with his. His great-grandfather gave him a golden throne, a heavy mace, and the turquoise crown of chiefs, a royal pavilion of seven-colored silk, and inside it tents adorned with leopard skin, Arabian horses with golden bridles, and Indian swords in golden scabbards. They untied the bundles of armor, helmets, and Roman mail, loosening every knot. Bows from Chach and arrows of white poplar, shields of China and javelins of war, treasures arranged in this fashion, gathered together through all his labors. He saw all of it fit for Manuchehr, and found his own heart full of love for him. He gave the keys to his adorned treasury, along with all its wealth, to his treasurer for him. All the champions of his army, all the famous men of his land, he commanded to come before him, and they all came with hearts set on revenge. They blessed him as king and scattered emeralds over his crown. That great time was like a festival; in the world the sheep now stood safe from the wolf. The commander was one like Qaren son of Kaveh, the general one like Shiruy and like Awgan. When the whole army's affairs were set in order, the king rose above the flock.

Word reached Salm and Tur that the throne of kings had been lit up again, its rightful heir enthroned. The hearts of both tyrants filled with dread, for their star was sinking low. The two sat down to brood, the days of these workers of cruelty gone dark. One by one they became certain of this: they had to find some way out of their plight. Namely, to send a messenger to Fereydun with an apology, since that was their only remedy. From the assembly the two chose out a pure-hearted man, skilled with words. To that wise, thoughtful, and modest man they spoke long, with many warm entreaties. They threw open the treasury of the East, having glimpsed the terror of the fall from the height. From the treasure of jewels they took gold crowns, and loaded them onto the backs of elephants. Onto the wagons went musk and ambergris, brocade and gold coin, fine furs and silk. With wagon-hauling elephants, with color and fragrance, they set out from the East toward Iran. Every treasure that lay at the royal court, they sent it all as a keepsake, one by one. When their hearts were emptied of these riches, the envoy set out, fully arrayed. They delivered a message to Fereydun, first invoking the name of the ruler of the world. Saying: May the brave Fereydun live forever; God has granted him all divine glory. May his head stay fresh and his body honored, his spirit soaring past the high heavens. Know this: those two ill-wishing tyrants, their eyes brimming with tears from shame before their father, have grown remorseful, their hearts branded by their guilt, and now seek the road to apology. As the wise and knowing have said: whoever does evil pays the price for it, left to grief with a heart full of pain, just as we remain, O generous king. It was written for us so from the beginning; things went the way of that first ordinance. Even the world-burning lion and the fierce dragon cannot escape the snare of fate. And beyond that, the command of the unclean demon stripped our hearts of the fear of the Lord of the world. So a blind, wicked impulse overcame us, and evil made its home in the minds of your two sons. We keep our eyes on that crowned king, hoping that he might show us mercy. Though our sin is great, may the court set it down to our ignorance. Another excuse is the lofty sky itself, which is sometimes a refuge and sometimes a wound. The third is the demon, who among us, like a swift courier, stands ready and girded to do harm. If the king's heart could be cleansed of its grudge against us, and our faith made bright again, let him send Manuchehr with a mighty army to those who now come pleading. So that we may stand before him like servants forever; this is our plan. Perhaps the tree of hatred that has sprung up can be washed away by the water of our weeping eyes. Let us hurry to soothe his pain; when his heart softens, we will hand him the crown and treasure. The messenger arrived, his heart full of words, words that had neither clear beginning nor end. With elephants, treasure, and gifts, he came to the king's court in full array. Word reached King Fereydun, and he ordered the royal throne to be prepared. They adorned it with Chinese silk brocade and made ready the royal crown. The king sat upon the turquoise throne, tall as a slender cypress, the moon's glow around his head. With crown, collar, and earrings, just as befitted a sovereign. Blessed Manuchehr sat at the king's side, a crown set upon his head. With golden maces and golden belts, they turned the whole ground sun-bright. On both sides the nobles stood in ranks, decked from head to foot in gold. On one side lions and leopards were chained, on the other, mighty war elephants. Shapur the warrior came out from the court and led Salm's messenger forward. When the messenger saw the king's court, he came running on foot from the road. When he reached King Fereydun, he beheld his majesty, his throne, and his lofty crown. He bowed his head low before him and pressed his face to the ground. The noble king, master of the world, seated him on a golden chair. The messenger praised the king: 'You who are the pride of crown, throne, and royal seal, the earth is a rose garden because of your throne's foundation; time itself is bright because of your fortune. We are all slaves of the dust beneath your feet; we all live purely by your will.' He began to deliver the two murderers' message, hiding all the truth as he spoke. The clever man loosened his tongue, and the world's ruler gave him his ear. He spoke of apologizing for their evil deeds and of inviting Manuchehr to join them, of girding themselves to serve him like retainers, and handing over to him the crown and royal throne, of buying back the blood of his father with gold, brocade, crown, and belt. The messenger spoke, and the commander listened; the key to that lock was already at hand as an answer. When the world's ruler heard the message of those two sons of impure intent, the noble king answered him point by point: 'How can you hide the sun? The hidden hearts of those two vile men have shown themselves clearer than the sun.' I have heard every word you carried to me. Now watch closely what answer you will get in the end. Tell those two shameless, foul men, those unjust, faithless, and reckless pair, that empty talk is worth nothing. On this matter I will waste no more words. If love for Manuchehr has risen in you, then where is the body of your famous Iraj? He was hidden as prey to beasts and birds, his head matched only with a narrow coffin. Now that you are done with Iraj, you set out to take vengeance against Manuchehr? You will not see his face except at the head of an army, a steel helmet set upon his brow, with a mace and the Kaviani banner, the earth turned purple by the hooves of his horses. His general will be a warrior like Qaren, and swordsmen like Shapur and Nastuh at his side. On one hand the fighting Shidush stands ready, and lion-slaying Shiruy leads the way. Men like Sam son of Nariman and Sarv of Yemen counsel him at the front of the host. The tree that grew from the murder of Iraj: we will wash its leaves and fruit in blood. No one sought vengeance for him until now, because we never saw the back of fortune set straight. It would not have gone well for you, with your two sons, had I ever raised my hand to war. Now from that tree the enemy uprooted, a fruitful branch has grown up tall. He will come now like a raging lion, his belt drawn tight for vengeance for his father. The envoy saw that terrifying speech, and saw Manuchehr seated as commander. He withered, rose trembling from his place, and at once set his foot in the stirrup. With a clear-seeing mind, that noble young man saw all that was destined to come. He saw that before long the turning heavens would show a grim face to both Salm and Tur. He set off like a roaring wind, his head full of the answer, his heart full of doubt. When the land of the East came into view, he saw a royal pavilion pitched on the plain. He came to the gate of the tent, and inside it sat the lord of the East. A tent of fine silk had been raised, spangled with stars, its ground swept clean. The two kings of two lands sat in secret counsel when they were told the envoy had returned. At once the chamberlain came and brought the envoy before the king. They set up a fresh place to sit and asked for news of the new king. They sought every kind of report about the crown and the imperial throne, about King Fereydun and his army, about his fighting champions and his realm, and beyond that, about the ways of the turning heavens, whether they still held their love for Manuchehr. Who are his nobles, and who is his chief advisor? How great is his treasury, and who keeps it? The envoy said: whoever has seen the bright spring or ever will, sees it in this king. His court is a joyful spring in April: all its earth is amber, all its bricks are gold. The high heavens are his palace and his field; the highest paradise is his smiling face. No meadow rises as tall as his hall; no garden spreads as wide as his arena. When I climbed toward his lofty hall, its rooftop seemed to whisper secrets to the stars. With an elephant on one side and a lion on the other, he has brought the whole world beneath his throne. A throne of gold rides upon his elephants' backs; the collars of his fierce lions are all set with jewels. Drummers stand before the elephants, and from every side the trumpets roar. You would think the field itself was boiling, and the earth was crying out against the sky. I walked with grace toward that noble king, and saw a high throne of turquoise. Upon it sat a king like the moon, a shining ruby crown upon his head. His hair white as camphor, his face like a rose petal, his heart seeking peace, his tongue full of sweet words. The world's heart swings between fear and hope for him; you would think Jamshid had come alive again. Manuchehr stood there, a tall cypress since birth, like Tahmuras who bound the demons. Seated at the king's right hand, he seemed to be the very tongue and heart of the throne. Before them stood Qaren the warrior, and at his left hand Sarv, the king of Yemen. Sarv, the king of Yemen, is their chief advisor; the valiant Garshasp is their treasurer. The wealth in his treasuries is beyond counting; no one in the world has seen such grandeur. All around the hall stood two rows of soldiers, with golden maces and golden helmets. The commander is like Qaren, son of Kaveh; Avgan leads at the head of the army. Its champion is like Shiruy, a tearing lion, like the hero Shapur, a bold and mighty elephant. When he straps the war drums onto the elephant's back, the sky turns black as ebony with the dust of battle. If that host comes to war against us, mountains will become plains and plains will become mountains. Every heart is full of hatred, brows knotted against you; they long for nothing but war. He recounted for them everything he had seen, and also the words he had heard from Fereydun. The hearts of the two cruel men twisted with pain, and their faces turned the color of lapis. They sat and searched for every kind of plan, but their talk had neither head nor foot to it. Then Tur said to the great Salm: we must set aside all rest and joy. We cannot let that lion cub grow sharp of tooth and bold. How could someone so famous be without skill, when his teacher was Fereydun himself? When the grandson took counsel with his elder, from that meeting a plan began to shine. We must prepare ourselves for war; we must hurry now instead of waiting. The riders galloped out from the army, gathering troops from China and the East. Talk spread across that land and region, and a whole world turned its face toward them. An army so vast it had no end; the only fault was that their fortune was still young. From the East two armies marched on Iran, hidden inside their armor and helmets. With mighty war elephants and with treasure, two killers set their hearts on vengeance.

When the army drew near to Iran, word of it reached Fereydun at once. He commanded that King Manuchehr should lead the troops from the hills down onto the plain. The world-experienced king offered a saying: when a young man is skillful and swift of foot, an unwary sheep may fall into his trap, with a leopard at its back and the hunter ahead. Patience, sharp wit, sound judgment, and reason can bring a lion out of the wilderness into the snare. And likewise, the one who does evil to good people will one day writhe in his own body's pain. I would hasten to punishment then, the way white-hot iron is beaten while it glows. When Manuchehr led his army out onto the open plain, he stayed there for eight days. Fereydun saw him at the hour of departure and spread wise counsel before him. Manuchehr said: exalted king, who would ever come against you seeking vengeance, unless fate itself plotted his ruin, so that he gambled his own life and body away? Now I will fasten a Roman coat of mail about my waist, a knot I will not loosen from my body. Seeking vengeance on the battlefield, I will raise the army's dust up to the sun. In all that host I count no man who would dare to face me in combat. He commanded that Qaren, eager for war, turn his face from the hills toward the plain. The king's royal pavilion was set up, and the blessed banner was raised over the plain. The army marched on, troop after troop; the plain and the mountains seethed like the sea. The bright day grew so dark with dust that you would think the sun had turned deep blue. A cry rose up from end to end of the land; even the sharpest ears went deaf. The neighing of the Arab horses across the plain drowned out the roll of the war drums. For two miles out from the commander's camp, war elephants were drawn up in two long ranks. Sixty of them bore golden thrones on their backs, and set in the gold were jewels of many kinds. About three hundred were loaded with baggage, and three hundred more were fitted out for battle. They were all covered in armor, so that nothing showed of them but their eyes above the iron. They struck the king's pavilion out on the field; the army moved from Tamishe onto the plain. The commander was the vengeful Qaren, with three hundred thousand fighting horsemen. All of them famed warriors clad in mail, marching out with their heavy maces. The brave men, each like a raging lion, all girded up to avenge Iraj. At the front went the banner of Kaveh, and in their fists gleamed violet-bright swords. Manuchehr, together with the elephant-bodied Qaren, came out of the elm forest. He came forward, passed before the troops, and arrayed the army on that broad plain. He gave the left wing to Garshasp, and the right to the hero Sam alongside Qobad. With the ranks drawn up on every side, Manuchehr stood with Sarv at the center. He shone like the moon among the host; not even the mountain's height stood out beside him. The army was led by Qaren, its champion was Sam, and the troops had drawn their swords from the scabbards. The vanguard was headed by Qobad, and the ambush was commanded by the valiant Teliman. An army decked out like a bride, with battle-lions and the sound of kettledrums. Word was rushed to Tur and Salm: the Iranians have made ready for war. From the forest they drew up their ranks on the plain, foam of heart's blood upon their lips. The two murderers, with a mighty army, set out, their leaders brimming with hatred. They led the army onto the battlefield, with the fortress of the Alans at their backs. Qobad rode out on scouting patrol; when Tur got word of it, he came like the wind. He said to him: go to Manuchehr and tell him: you fatherless upstart king, if only a daughter was born of Iraj's line, then who gave you the sword, the mace, and the mail? Qobad said: yes, I will carry your message, just as you spoke it and named the names. But if you let the thought run longer, and your reason sits down in council with your heart, you will realize the task ahead of you is terrible, and you will fear these raw, reckless words of yours. If the wild beasts and birds wept over you night and day, it would be no great wonder, for from the elm forest all the way to China there are war-riders and men bent on vengeance. When you see the flash of violet swords and the banner of Kaveh, your heart and brain will burst with terror, and you will no longer tell high ground from low. Then Qobad came before the king and repeated what he had heard from that seeker of war. Manuchehr laughed and said: no one talks like this except a fool. Thanks be to the Lord of both worlds, who knows all that is open and all that is hidden, who knows that Iraj is my ancestor, and blessed Fereydun is my witness. Now, if we throw ourselves into battle, our lineage and true worth will be made plain. By the power of the Lord of sun and moon, I will not leave him strength enough even to blink an eye, before I show his severed head to my army. He commanded the feast to be laid out, and called for music and wine at the gathering place.

At the hour when the bright world turned dark, the scouts scattered across the plain. At the head of the army stood Qaren, the warrior, beside his advisor, the noble king of Yemen. A shout rose up before the ranks: 'You famous men, you soldiers of the king! Fight hard, for this is a war against the devil; here is pain, here is hatred, here is spilled blood. Keep your belts fastened and stay alert; keep yourselves under the shelter of God, the world's master. Whoever is killed on this battlefield goes to paradise, washed clean of all sin. Anyone who, against the armies of China and Rome, sheds their blood and takes their land, will keep a good name forever, and live on with the glory of the priests. From the king they will win a crown and a throne, gold from the commander, and fortune from God.' When the pure white day breaks and the sun has traveled two thirds across the sky, 'Then fasten your warriors' belts, every one, with mace in hand and the Kabuli dagger. Each of you hold your place; let no one step ahead of another.' The chiefs of the army, those brave lords, drew up in ranks before the lion-hearted commander. They said to the commander: 'We are your servants; in this world we live only for the king. Whatever he commands, we will carry out; we will turn the earth into a river of blood like the Jayhun.' Then they returned, each to his own tent, every one with a heart set on vengeance.

When the dawn broke out of the dark night, it bent the darkness aside. Manuchehr rose from the center of the army, clad in armor, sword, and a Roman helmet. The whole army let out a war cry and raised their spears toward the clouds. Full of rage, their brows drawn tight, they swept across the face of the earth. Left and right, center and flanks, the king arrayed his forces just as he should. The ground rocked like a ship on water; you would think it was rushing toward drowning. The drum struck against the mighty elephant's back, and the earth trembled like the river Nile. Before the elephants the drummers beat, roaring and seething, while the elephants trumpeted. You would say the place had become a feast hall, from the sound of trumpets and the wail of flutes. They all moved forward at once like mountains, and a great uproar rose from both sides. The desert turned truly into a sea of blood; you would say the ground had sprouted red tulips. The feet of the great elephants stood in blood as if they were pillars of red coral. The upper hand belonged entirely to Manuchehr, for the heart of the world was full of love for him. It went on like this until the dark night lifted its head and the shining sun disappeared. Fortune does not stay in one state; sometimes it is honey and nectar, sometimes bitter poison. The hearts of Tur and Salm began to boil, and they set their ears to plan a night raid. When night turned to day, no one came to fight; the two armies took time to rest and prepare.

When half the shining day had passed away, the hearts of both warriors burned with hatred. They plotted together, the two of them, and settled on a reckless, useless scheme. When night falls, they said, we will strike by surprise and flood the plains and the open fields with blood. When the scouts learned of this plan, they rushed at a run to Manuchehr. They came before King Manuchehr and urged him to raise his army. Manuchehr listened and gave his full attention; that shrewd man turned his mind to a plan. He handed the whole army over to Qaran, and the brave commander chose a place for ambush. He took thirty thousand of his famed leaders, bold heroes skilled with the dagger. He found a fitting spot for the ambush, suited to warriors ready for battle. When the dark night came, Tur with a hundred thousand men arrived, girded for war. The surprise attack was planned and prepared, arrows fitted, bows drawn tight. But when he came, he saw the army in place, its blazing banner standing before him. He saw no choice but battle and combat, and raised a war cry from the midst of his troops. The dust of the horsemen turned the air to fog, and steel blades flashed like lightning. You would have said the sky itself was ablaze, as the swords, bright as diamond, scorched the earth. The clang of steel rang into the brain, and fire and wind rose up into the clouds. The king raised his head from the ambush, and Tur found no escape from either side. He turned his reins and swung about to flee, and a great uproar rose from the army. King Manuchehr came charging in pursuit and caught up with that famous, vengeful foe. He hurled a spear into his back, and the dagger tumbled from his fist. He lifted him from the saddle swift as the wind and dashed him to the ground, proving his valor. Then and there he cut the head from his body and made a feast of his corpse for beasts and birds. He returned to his own camp, to the sight of that proud, exalted army.

He wrote a letter to King Fereydun, tipping his pen with musk and amber. First he remembered the Creator of the world, the Lord of goodness, purity, and justice. Thanks to the world's Sustainer, who answers our cries; in hardship no hand but his takes hold of anyone. And praise to the mighty Fereydun, master of the crown, master of the mace. His are justice, faith, and royal glory; his the crown and the throne of the king of kings. All rightness comes from his good fortune; all splendor and beauty come from his throne. I reached the land of Turan safely; we marshaled the army and sought revenge. Three heavy battles were fought in three days, by night and by day when the sun lights the world. They struck by ambush at night and we lay in wait; each side pressed on and took its own revenge. I heard he readied a night raid; out of helplessness he turned to spells and trickery. I set an ambush at his back and left nothing but wind clenched in his fist. The moment he turned his face from the fight, I followed his trail and caught up with him. I ran my spear through his armor and by sheer force lifted him from the saddle. I hurled him down like a dragon and cut his worthless head from his body. Now I send it here to my grandfather; next I will prepare the same remedy for Salm. Just as they once cast the head of King Iraj so shamefully into a coffin of gold. He set these words down in the letter and sent a courier swift as the wind. The messenger arrived, his face full of shame, and Fereydun's eyes filled with warm tears. For how could he bear to send the severed head of the king of China to the king of Iran? For even if a son turns away from faith, a father's love for him outweighs his anger. His sin was very grave, and no apology could undo it; and besides, the avenger was a brave one. The bold-faced messenger came forward and laid Tur's head before him. Fereydun then asked a blessing from the Just One upon Manuchehr.

Word of this battle reached Salm, and of the darkness that had fallen over his fortunes. Behind his back stood a fortress, its head raised up to the blue sky. He planned to fall back to that fortress, since fate has its ups and downs. Then Qaren fixed his mind on this one thing: that Salm had turned his face away from the fight. That great fortress will be his refuge; we would do well to block the road before him. For if that sea fortress becomes his hiding place, no one will ever tear him from its roots. It has a stronghold whose head touches the clouds, raised by cunning from the bottom of the water. Treasure of every kind is stored inside, and the shadow of good fortune falls upon it. I must move on this plan at once; stirrup and rein must be worn hard with riding. If the king sees fit, from among his warriors let him give this humble servant a heavy force. And let the royal banner of the king, and Tur's own ring, go with me on the road. Now we must devise a scheme to throw our troops into that fortress. Just I and brave Garshasp and this dark night; breathe not a word of this secret to the wind. When the face of the sky turned black as ebony, they set the war drums on the elephants' backs. All the famous, battle-hungry lords turned their faces from the land toward the sea. He handed the army to Shiruy and said: I mean to hide myself away. I will go to the fortress keeper as a messenger and show him the seal of the ring. When I enter the fortress I will raise a banner and make our purple blades flash bright. You all turn as one toward the fortress, and when I strike, charge in and give it your all. He left the army near the sea with lion-slaying Shiruy, and rode off alone. He came, and when he neared the fortress, he spoke, and the keeper looked at his seal. He said: I have come from Tur; he ordered me, so I paused there a while. He told me: Go, tell the fortress keeper to seek neither rest nor food, day or night, for from here King Manuchehr's banner is being sent toward the fortress with an army. Stand by them through good and bad, guard the fortress and stay alert. When the keeper heard these words and saw the seal upon the ring, at once they opened the fortress gate; he saw what was plain but did not know the hidden truth. See what the wise storyteller of old has said: only he who hides his own heart can read another's secret. Let service be the trade of both you and me, yet let thought and foresight go with our trade. In good and in bad, whatever may come, we must keep telling the old tales. When the fortress keeper and warlike Qaren came face to face, one against the other, one full of malice, one simple of heart, the commander was ready for any trick. He kept up the act from dawn until night, the keeper never suspecting the deceit. He fixed the seal of kinship on a stranger, and recklessly gave his head and his fortress to the wind. When night turned to day, warlike Qaren raised a banner bright as the ring of the moon. He shouted and gave, one by one, the signals to Shiruy and the proud, defiant champions. When Shiruy saw that hero's banner, he set his face to vengeance with a bold heart. He seized the fortress and stormed inside, crowning its chiefs with a crown of their own blood. Qaren on one side, the lion on the other, mace overhead and sword: fire above, water below. By the time the sun reached the dome's peak, neither the fortress nor its keeper could be seen. You would say there was no fortress, no ship on the water, only smoke rising into the clouds. Fire flared, the wind rose, the roar of horsemen and their cries rose up. When the shining sun climbed the heights, nothing remained: neither that fortress nor that broad plain. They killed more of them than could be counted; smoke rose from the fire, black as pitch. The whole face of the sea turned the color of tar, the whole face of the plain became a river of blood.

The vengeful one drained of all his rage, and fled toward the fortress walls. Behind him the army of Manuchehr Shah, roaring and pressing on, gave chase. When Salm reached the edge of the sea, he found no ship waiting on that shore. The plain lay so heaped with the dead and wounded that the road grew hard for any who passed. Full of fury and hatred, the new commander mounted his swift bay horse. He cast off his armor and rode hard, spurring his horse into the dust of the troops. Then he closed in on the king of Rome and cried out: 'You man of tyranny and ruin!' 'You killed your brother for a crown; you got the crown, so how far will you run now?' 'Now I have brought you your crown, O king, and your throne; that royal tree has come to fruit.' 'Do not flee from the greatness of the crown; Fereydun once arrayed you anew on the throne.' 'The tree you raised has borne its fruit; you will hold its harvest in your arms right now.' 'If its fruit is thorns, you planted it yourself; if it is silk, you spun it yourself.' Even as he spoke he drove his horse on, and at last drew close upon him. He struck one blow of the sword to his neck; the king's body split in two. He ordered his head to be taken up and raised on a spear toward the clouds. The whole army stood amazed at him, at that strength and that warrior's arm. All of Salm's army was like a flock scattered by a bitter, storming day. They fled off all at once, group by group, scattered across plain and sea and mountain. A wise man of pure mind, whose tongue was full of graceful speech, they sent to go before Manuchehr Shah, to win his warmth and speak for the army. He would say: 'We declared ourselves the lesser; we will not set foot on the earth except by his command.' 'Some of us are owners of livestock, others owners of fields and homes.' 'We came to this battlefield as soldiers, not by our own wish to seek revenge.' 'Now, every one of us is the king's servant; our hearts and souls are filled with love for him.' 'If his purpose is war and bloodshed, we have no strength left to fight.' 'We will bring our leaders one and all before the king, and lay our innocent heads before him.' 'Let him do whatever he desires; over these innocent lives of ours he is master.' The man of much sense said these words, and the commander listened intently. He answered thus: 'I cast my own desire into the dust, and I raise my own good name.' 'Whatever does not come from the divine path, whatever springs from evil or from wickedness,' 'let it be far from my sight; may the body of the demon of evil be broken in pain.' 'Whether you are all my enemies, or my friends and allies,' 'since the Victorious One granted us the power, the guilty were set apart from the innocent.' 'Now the day of justice has come; injustice is gone; your leaders' heads are freed from the sword.' 'Seek only love, cast a spell of peace, and set aside your weapons of war.' A cry rose up from the royal tent: 'O commanders of blessed judgment,' 'from now on, shed no blood in vain, for the fortune of the wrongdoers has been overturned.' They carried all their arms and gear of war before the son of Peshang. Commander Manuchehr welcomed them and set each in a rank fitting his worth. He sent Shiruy to the fortress, that worldly, seasoned, questing man. He ordered: 'Gather up that treasure; look carefully at all you find there.' That treasure, all arrayed, he loaded onto wagon-drawing elephants and brought to the king's court. He ordered the brass drums and pipes to sound, and the royal tent was let down. He led the army from the sea to the open plain, and from the plain toward Fereydun. When he came near Tamishe again, he longed to see his grandfather's face. The wail of the great horn rose from the gate, and the whole army stirred into motion. The commander of fortunate fate adorned the backs of all the elephants with turquoise thrones. Some with golden litters draped in Chinese brocade, likewise decked out with jewels, some with banners of every kind flashing, until the world turned red and gold and violet. From the sea of Gilan, like a dark cloud, that army came pouring on toward Sari. When that army drew near the king, Fereydun came out on the road to meet it. All the men of Gilan were like lions unleashed, with golden collars and musk-dark caps. Behind the king rode the Iranians, brave men, each like a raging lion. At the front of the army marched elephants and lions, then the great tusked beasts and bold warriors. When the flashing banner appeared, Manuchehr's army drew up in ranks. The new commander dismounted from his horse, a fresh-blossoming tree heavy with new fruit. He kissed the ground and gave praise before the crown, the throne, the diadem, and the ring. Fereydun bade him rise, kissed him, and wiped his face with his own hand. Then he turned his face to the heavens: 'O just judge, speaker of truth,' 'You said: I am the just judge; in hardship I am the helper of the wronged.' 'You gave me justice and judgment both; You gave me both the crown and the signet ring.' Then he ordered that Manuchehr Shah be seated on the golden throne with the crown. Commander Shiruy came arrayed to the king's court with the treasure. Then Manuchehr Shah gave orders and shared it all out among the army. When this was done, fortune's day turned; the leaf of the royal tree withered. Fereydun withdrew from crown and throne, having laid the heads of all three kings upon himself. With heart full of blood and both cheeks wet with tears, he lived on until his time ran out. Fereydun passed away, and only his name remained after this long age went by. Better then to hold to good name and honesty, my son, than to waste your gains. Manuchehr set aside the royal crown and bound his waist with the blood-red mourning sash. In the manner of kings he built a tomb, some of it of red gold, some of lapis lazuli. They placed an ivory throne beneath, and hung a crown above the ivory. They came forward to bid him farewell, just as the custom and the faith required. They sealed the tomb over the king; that honored one left the world, wretched and cast down. O world, from end to end you are deceit and wind; no man of wisdom is ever glad in you.