Part 15: The Eve of Battle

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.