Section 11

Young Forud had a thriving fortress, and inside it stood seventy attendants. All the moon-faced beauties were up on the ramparts, standing watch like woven Chinese silk. The thought of turning back left young Forud with a darkened, heavy heart. He said to the prince Tokhar: if you really want to seek out battle, take care not to break the famous Tus; better for you to shoot his horse down instead. And besides, his fated hour has not come; a single arrow from the bow will not kill him. Now that the commander has climbed to this mountain ridge, his whole army will soon come along. You have no strength to stand against him in war; you have not seen the far reach of his arrows. Forud heard these words from Tokhar, then strung his bow and drew it back. He struck an arrow into the commander's horse, a shot worthy of the finest riders. The Arab steed's head dropped and it gave up its life; Tus grew full of spite, his head full of fury. He came back to the camp on foot, shield on his neck, covered in dust and dazed. Forud mocked him from behind: what has happened to this famous champion, that he is so worn down by a single rider? How will he ever hold up in the ranks of battle? The attendants burst out laughing and shouted their cheers from the walls, that an old man rolled down from the heights before a youth, out of fear of his arrow. The commander came down from the mountaintop, and his warriors approached, heads bowed with grief. They said: now that you have returned unharmed, there is no need to wash our faces with tears. The noble Giv was shaken by this affair, that the great commander had come back on foot. He said: there is no measure to this insult; the faces of the famed will not shine fresh with it. Even if he is a prince with the royal earring, how can he treat so great and dense an army with contempt? We must not go along with him, no matter what tale he spins to justify it. If Tus flared up in anger just once, the world has been thrown into torment by Forud. Let us give our lives for Siyavash; we must not forget this wrong. The precious Zarasp was killed by him, a proud rider of Nozar's line. Rivniz's body is drowned in blood; what greater humiliation could we still witness? Gorui, son of Jam and once the mind of Qobad, in his folly opened the way to this war.