The Words of Daqiqi

When the king of the earth had finished speaking, he called for the black elephant and praised it. He handed the envoys over to it and said: take them off; carry them out of Iran to that border. The messengers of the warlord of China, sent back from before the world-seeking king of the earth, both departed, humbled to the dust, driven out and shamed by the ruler. They went fortunate from Iran to Khallukh, yet in Khallukh their fortune did not hold. When from afar they saw the palace of their own king with a black banner planted on its roof, they climbed down from their prancing mounts, broken-hearted, their eyes dimmed. They walked on foot up to him, their clothes turned black with grief, their faces pale. They handed him the letter of the sovereign, the chief of the spear-wielding men. His scribe unfolded that letter and read it aloud to that king of sorcerer's stock. In that letter the sovereign had written, telling of his heroes and spear-wielding men. It read: From King Lohrasp and King Goshtasp, guardian of the world, worthy of the throne, whom God sent as a messenger, with all the great lords standing before him, to Arjasp the Turk, that vile brute whose form is the form of an old wolf, who has turned his head from custom and the good faith, and chosen the road of blindness and folly. That base note you had written to the sovereign has reached us. We heard and saw those words; you were in no way fit to speak them. Words neither to be hidden nor shown, neither to be thrown down nor smoothed over. You wrote that within two months you would march an army against the pleasant land. You need neither two months nor four, for I will come like a lion after prey. Do not heap trouble upon yourself, for we have already thrown open the doors of our treasury. I will bring thousands upon thousands of heroes, all seasoned in war, all spearmen. All of the line of Iraj and of the noble Pahlavans, none of Afrasiab's kind nor of the Yabghu's. All with a king's countenance and moon-bright faces, all tall as cypresses, all speakers of truth. All from the house of kingship and the throne, all men of treasure, throne, and crown. The world has worn them through hardship and ease, all lion-tamers, all with heads held high. All spear-bearing swordsmen, all raisers of steeds and shatterers of armies. When they know I have strapped the war-drum to the elephant, the hooves of their horses will level the mountains. Among them are two chosen champions on horseback: Zarir the commander and Esfandiar. When they put on their armor of iron, they set their feet upon the sun and the moon. When they lift the gleaming mace to their shoulders, glory and grandeur blaze from their maces. When they stand before the army, you will be forced to keep your eyes on them. Like the sun with crown and throne, splendor and fortune blaze from their spears. Such are my champions and my commanders, the chosen and approved of the wise priests. Let the Syr Darya rain silver and the Oxus flow with musk; to us it is one whether the rivers run or run dry. They drive their steeds across the water so hard that the fountain of the sun goes dark. On the day of battle, if God wills it, I will trample your head beneath my feet in the fight. When the lord of Baykand read the letter, he stepped down from his throne and stood there stunned. He told his commander: tomorrow at dawn, summon the army from all of the kingdom. The chieftains of his army, the Turks of China, went out in every direction across the land of Turan. They called back his army to him, the chief guardians of his kingdom's borders. He had two demons for brothers, one Kahram and the other Andaman. He ordered them to pick, from the warrior horsemen, a thousand champions of the army. He gave them war-drums, elephants, and banners, adorned in yellow, crimson, and violet. He allotted to them three hundred thousand chosen heroes, warrior horsemen. He opened the treasury and gave out their pay, sounded the brass horn, and had the baggage loaded. Then he summoned his brother and gave him one wing of the army. He gave the other wing to Andaman, and went in the center himself with one son. There was a Turk named Gorgsar, one on whom many days had passed. He gave him command over the troops, a man you would think knew nothing but evil. He gave the plundering to Bidrafsh, and handed him an elephant-figured banner. There was another named Khashash the bold, whom not even a fierce lion would face. He made him the army's scout and vanguard, gave him the banner, and sent him ahead of the champions. There was another Turk named Hush the Demon; the lord of the Turks sent him a message. He said: guard the rear of the army; if any of our men turns back along the road, kill him right there where you see him; see that your wits do not falter at that moment. In this way he set out in the manner of wrath, his heart full of blood and his eyes full of tears. He kept plundering, kept burning palaces, tearing trees up by their roots and branches. He led his army into the land of Iran, all of them frenzied, their hearts scattered with hatred.