The Words of Daqiqi

The king then gave to him Behzad, along with an army in mail and helmets of steel. So the king fastened his belt for war and mounted the black steed, Behzad. He rode out toward the battlefield of the army, seated on that fine black horse. He stood before the enemy ranks and drew a cold sigh up from his heart. He said: I am Bastur, son of Zarir; no fierce lion dares to face me. Where is that sorcerer Bidarafsh, who bore off that banner of Jamshid? When they gave the noble one no answer, he spurred the black-hued Behzad forward. He killed many of the Tegin warriors, and no one came out to meet him. And on the other side, the hero Esfandiar was killing them beyond all measure and count. When the commander of China saw Bastur, that heroic son of royal blood, he said to his army: Who can this be, that can wield a spear in such a way? He has killed countless of my Tegin warriors, unless the rider Zarir has come back to life, for it was Zarir who first came against me, and he too drove his horse just like this. Where has that chosen Bidarafsh gone? Call him to me at once, quickly! They summoned him, and Bidarafsh came storming in, holding that purple banner in his hand, seated on that royal steed, wearing that heroic coat of mail, he rode from the king toward the army, guardian of the frontier and guardian of the throne, gripping that same poison-tempered blade with which he had struck down the rider Zarir. Both turned to their javelins and arrows: the chief of the Turkish sorcerers and the son of Zarir. Then they told the king of that fighting, and word reached the fortunate Esfandiar. He galloped until he reached them, and the chief of sorcerers, when he saw him, spurred his horse out of the fray, for he knew the man would fall upon his head. He flung that poisoned blade toward his face, hoping to mar that bright shining face. The poison-tempered blade did not strike him; instead he seized that king's blade firmly. He struck the sorcerer through the liver in heroic style, so the point came out the other side. Like a gazelle he fell from his horse and died; he had felt the power of the royal-born hand. Esfandiar came down from his horse; the arms of Zarir, that chosen rider, he stripped from that old sorcerer, and cut his head off from the half-dead body. He carried off Zarir's fine-colored steed and banner, and the worthless head of Bidarafsh. The army of Kayan raised a great shout; their cries rose past the clouds: The king has triumphed and struck down the enemy! And he brought back the bay warhorse. That bold young prince, mounted, carried Zarir's bay horse toward the king, and set the old sorcerer's head before him: he killed the killer; such was his creed and his way.