Tale of Kamus of Kashan

In the name of the Lord of the sun and moon, whose name gave the heart its way to wisdom. The Lord of all being and of truth, who wants no crookedness or flaw from you. The Lord of Mars, Saturn, and the sun: from him comes my glad news, in him lies my hope. I do not know how to praise him fully; from the strain of the thought I would give up my life. Through him place and time came into being; even the ant's tiny track bears the mark of his existence. From the turning sun down to the dark earth, and the wind, the fire, and the pure water too, they all bear witness to God's existence, and make your soul know him. He needs nothing of all he has created, while in his kingdom you hold your head high. From ministers and treasurers, from crown and throne, from lack and abundance, from luxury and fortune, he is free of every need, and we are his servants, bowing our heads before his command and will. He created night and day and the turning sky, food and sleep, harshness and love. Know no other as the high Creator, for from him comes joy and from him comes sorrow. For wonders in this world, Rostam is enough: his story lives in everyone's heart. The root of manhood and of war is his; wisdom, knowledge, and steadiness are his. On land like an elephant, at sea a crocodile, wise, clear of heart, a man of firm resolve. Now let us bring forward the battle of Kamus, turning it from the old record into words of our own.

When the army came to the Charam road, the fortress of Kalat above and the water of Mim below. They remembered the battle with Forud; it was all regret, pain, and mourning. Every heart was full of grief and dread of the king, their eyes brimming with blood, their bodies heavy with guilt. So ashamed they came before the king, hearts broken and steeped in wrongdoing. For they had killed his innocent brother, and handed crown and signet to the enemy. Each one folded his arms across his chest and came before him humble as a servant. Khosrow looked at them in anger, his heart full of pain, both eyes full of blood. He spoke thus to God: 'O just one, you gave me wisdom, judgment, and skill.' 'I feel shame before you now; you know without doubt the how and the why of all things.' 'Otherwise I would have ordered a thousand of them raised on the gallows in the field.' 'The gallows would be Tus's seat, and of everyone who stood beside him for battle.' 'I was already crying out for vengeance for my father, my heart full of grief, pain, and turmoil.' 'Now with Forud's killing a new blood feud is born; the head of Tus, son of Nozar, must be cut off.' 'I told him: do not go toward Kalat and Charam, even if they scatter coins upon your head.' 'For on that road lives Forud, and he is with his mother; he is of the commander's line and a warrior himself.' 'Why did roaring Tus, that faithless fool, lead the army toward the fortress?' 'Now, no wonder, the Creator of the heavens has cut off his favor from Tus and the army.' 'Evil befell the sons of Gudarz because of Tus, curse upon him, upon the war-elephant and the drum.' 'I gave him robes of honor and counsel, and sent him to war against my own brother.' 'May there be no world-conqueror like Tus son of Nozar, may no commander like him lead an army.' 'Alas for Forud, son of Siyavash, alas, who had strength and courage, mace and sword.' 'Like his father, he was killed guiltless, at the hands of my commander and his troops.' 'In all the world there is no one lower than Tus; he deserves only the pit and the dungeon.' 'No brain in his head, no blood in his veins; base Tus is no better than a dog to me.' Over the blood of his brother and the vengeance for his father, he kept writhing, his liver wounded with grief. He dismissed the whole army in contempt and rode off, tears of blood scattering from his lashes onto his face. He barred them from his audience; his soul was wounded by his brother's death. The nobles of Iran fell into mourning; the brave men went to Rostam's court. Making their apology: 'This was fated to happen; who had really meant to fight Forud?' 'When the son of Tus was killed, the heads of the chieftains reeled with grief and dismay.' 'And his son-in-law Rivniz too, there was nothing left of him but ill fortune.' 'Who knew the name and lineage of Forud, that the king's heart would be torn like this?' 'You plead with him, for the king is young; perhaps he will turn his mind from vengeance on the army.' 'Rivniz, son of Kavus the king, was also cut down miserably in the fighting.' 'He was the younger son and eager for battle; alas for such a moon-faced prince.' 'This is the outcome and end of war: one wins a crown, another a narrow grave.' When the face of the world turned pale from the sun, and the lapis-blue night bent overhead, Rostam came to the king and kissed the ground before the throne. The mighty-bodied one said to the king: 'May your head be higher than the whole assembly.' 'I have come to plead with the king on behalf of Tus and the army.' 'Know that no one dies without a cause; these matters must be weighed and considered.' 'And also, the army had no idea that the noble Forud was the king's own brother.' 'Besides, Tus is hot-tempered and reckless, and a father does not hold his son's life cheap.' 'When Rivniz was killed before his eyes, and Zarasp, that proud young man too,' 'if he flares up, it is no wonder; the world-seeker should not be blamed for vengeance.' Khosrow said to him: 'O champion, my heart is full of grief for that young man.' 'Now your counsel is medicine for my soul, even though my heart still writhes with pain.' Tus the commander came to apologize and kissed the ground before the champion. He blessed the king: 'May you thrive as long as time endures.' 'May the earth be servant to your crown and throne, may the heavens be the source of your glory and fortune.' 'My heart is full of grief for my own deeds; my soul is bound in sorrow by my own mourning.' 'My soul too is full of shame before the king, my tongue full of apology, my spirit full of guilt.' 'For the pure souls of Forud and Zarasp I burn like a blazing fire.' 'If I am the guilty one among this assembly, I writhe in agony over what I have done.' 'Especially for Bahram and Rivniz, my own life means nothing to me now.' 'If the king becomes pleased with me and with this noble, innocent assembly,' 'I will go and avenge this disgrace; I will turn what is low into what is high.' 'I will take the whole burden of the army upon myself, whether I take lives or give my own.' 'From now on I will not look at throne or crown; my head shall know only the Roman helmet.' The king was gladdened by his words; his heart grew fresh like a rose in spring. When the bright crown of the sun appeared, and the dawn broke from the arc of the bow, the commander came to the king, and with him the great men of the Iranian army. The king of the world said to them: 'The pursuit of vengeance shall never be forgotten.' The talk turned to Tur and Salm, to that ancient feud and the old wars. 'Such shame was never on a king of Iran, the ground never so drenched in the blood of the brave.' 'The whole mountain is soaked in the blood of Gudarz's sons, their waists bound with belts of blood.' 'The very bird and fish weep for them, mourning in the sea and on the mountains.' 'From Iran, the whole plain of Turan is strewn with heads and hands and feet, backs and waists.' 'Yet your minds are set only on rejoicing; your hearts do not stir toward vengeance.' The brave men all folded their arms across their chests before the sun-faced lord. They all kissed the ground, Roham and Gorgin, Gudarz and Tus, and Khorrad with Zangeh of Shavaran, and Bizhan and Giv and the warriors, saying: 'O king of good fortune and lion's heart, who has won courage even over lions with your sword,' 'we are all, one by one, your servants; we bow our heads in shame before you, Khosrow.' 'If the king commands battle, we will all give our lives in the fight.' Then the commander called Giv forward and seated him on the throne of the great ones. He praised him greatly and caressed him, and prepared for him many robes of honor and gifts. He said to him: 'In this world you bore my hardship, yet you took no share of my treasure.' 'The commander Tus must not march the war-elephant and drum to battle without your counsel.' 'Do not, in haste, make small the dreadful work of war, and may the soul of brave Bahram find peace.' 'Through slanderers' words, and thoughts of name and honor, he made the world dark and narrow upon himself.'

He handed out coins and summoned those who provide for others, and spoke at length with the commander. He kept planning with the mighty hero until the face of day slipped out of sight. When the sun raised its spear from below, they hurried to set out with urgency. The commander came before the king, along with Giv, Gudarz, and a body of troops. The king gave him the banner of Kaveh, just as the kings of old had done by custom. They searched the stars for a fortunate day, one right for setting out on the march. The king went out to the plain with the royal drums, so the commander could pass before him in review. An army like a black mountain marched past before the watchful king. Behind the host came Tus, the general, who bowed and kissed the ground before the king. He blessed the king, and a great cry rose up; the world seethed with the neighing of horses. A cloud of dust rose over the horses' hooves, and the roar of the ox-headed drums went up. So many were the coats of mail and Kaveh's banner that the whole face of the earth turned violet. You would say the sun lay drowned in water, the sky and the stars had fallen asleep. He set a turquoise litter upon an elephant and marched on this way toward the River of Honey. A courier swift as the rushing wind carried word at once to Piran, saying: I have raised my head for battle and come, ready, toward the River of Honey. When Piran heard this he grew deeply grieved, and reluctantly loaded his gear on an elephant. He went out with his famous men, his chosen and valiant riders, to see what the army of Iran was like: how many proud chiefs it held, and who stood with Tus. They drew up their ranks on the far side of the river, and he sent a greeting to the commander. From this side Tus brought up his army, the auspicious banner, the elephants, and the drums. General Piran sent a smooth-tongued envoy from among the Turks to him, to say: think of all the kindness I did everywhere for Farangis and the young prince. I wept in anguish over Siyavash's death; I was left seething as if on burning fire. Now what should have been the antidote has become poison, and all I have gained from it is suffering. The heart of Tus grew sad at his plight, moved by his pain and his struggle. He answered: signs of your affection are written plainly on your face. Free yourself, step away from all this; close this door of danger and the road to ruin. Come over to the king of Iran with your troops, and the king will reward you well. In Iran he will give you a hero's rank, and even a royal crown. When he recalls your good deeds, his heart will ache with concern for your sorrow. So spoke Gudarz and Giv and the leaders, the great ones and the grieving chiefs. The messenger with the answer came like the wind to Piran of the house of Viseh. He told the general all he had heard from Tus and from bright-souled Gudarz. Piran replied: night and day I shall open my lips in praise of the commander. I will go, and all my kin, whoever is wise enough to heed my counsel. I will leave my land, home, and belongings for Iran; a noble name is worth more than crown and throne. But his mind was empty of these words; he was only seeking a better turn of fortune. At the hour of sleep he sent off a swift camel with word to Afrasiab, saying: from Iran an army has come, with elephants and drums, and Giv, Gudarz, Rahham, and Tus. I have sent them plenty of deceptions and laid every sort of trap. Choose an army of warriors to mount and ride swiftly here in vengeance, so we may tear their homeland up by the roots, and set fire to their throne and treasury. Otherwise, over Siyavash's blood, neither the army nor the king will ever rest from war. When Afrasiab heard this speech, he summoned the chiefs from every assembly. Afrasiab raised such an army that the fountain of the sun went dark. On the tenth day the host reached Piran, an army so vast the earth vanished beneath it. When the troops had rested, he gave them a day, then took up the army and loaded the gear. He turned from his pledge and forgot his vow, and came roaring to the bank of the River of Honey. A scout came to Tus and said: strap the drums onto the elephants' backs, for Piran knows no talk but trickery, once he sees the threat has closed in tight. The banner of the treacherous one appeared, and the army drew up its ranks along the river. General Tus arrayed his army and led the elephants and drums onto the plain. The armies on both sides advanced like mountains, the riders of Turan and the ranks of Iran. The sun so vanished in the dust of the host, it seemed fire had risen from a sea of water. The flash of swords, javelins, and spears was as if the night had sown tulips in the sky. From so many golden helmets and golden shields, from the armor of riders in golden belts, a cloud rose up the color of amber, and the earth turned dark as ebony with dust. Under the heavy maces the heads of chiefs became like the anvil and hammer of smiths. You would say the river had turned into a winehouse of blood, and the air a reed-bed of spears. Many a head was caught in the noose's snare, many a noble body was cast down in ruin. Their shroud was armor, their bed was blood and dust, their pampered bodies torn by the sword. The earth turned crimson, the day turned amber, the heavens and stars filled with the sound of drums. Whether a world-seeking man wins the crown, or turns to dust on the day of battle, he must leave this world unwillingly; what does it matter, the antidote or the poison? I do not know what the end and outcome will be; over this passing away we can only weep. There was a famous warrior named Arzhang, who had won renown in battle to the clouds. He raised dust from the field of combat and sought several fights with the Iranians. When Tus the commander saw him from afar, he roared and drew his sword from its sheath. He said to the son of Zereh: what is your name? Which warrior of the Turks is your ally? He answered: I am Arzhang the warrior, proud, a lion who stands his ground. Now I will make the dust gleam with your blood and scatter your head across the battlefield. When the son of Zereh's words came to an end, the general of Iran heard this speech. For an answer he saw no need to delay: the keen blade that was in his hand, he brought it down on the head and helmet of that warrior, so that his body could not hold his head at all. From the Iranian army rose horns and drums: may the proud Tus be victorious! Piran grieved for the army of Turan, for the battlefield was left empty of Turks. The brave men of Turan and the champions drew their swords and heavy maces, saying: let us all fight together and wage war, and make the world close in on the heart of Tus. Human said: prepare for battle today, and do not let your hearts grow narrow with fear. If some famous man among them rises from the ranks to challenge us, we will send out a fierce warrior to meet him, and see which way fortune turns. Do not rush hotly to war with them; just for today we must hold back. The moment the army moves from its place and the drum sounds out from the royal tent, we will all draw our maces together as one, and push forward from the riverbank. We will make a hard, massed battle, if the Lord of the world and fortune stand with us.

He set his foot to the eagle-swift horse and spurred that mount into motion. You would think it was a steed of iron, or Mount Alborz clad in armor. He came out before the army to fight, a gleaming spear gripped in his fist. Tus the commander moved from his place; the world filled with the blare of the war-horn. He said to Human: 'You wretched, ill-starred man, no fruit has grown from this garden of vengeance. I showed my hand's work on Arzhang, who was among you a renowned and valiant one. Now it seems you have come for revenge, since you have ridden out with a spear on your saddle. By the life and head of Iran's king and army, though without armor, mace, or Roman helmet, I will come to fight you like a leopard that leaps down from the mountain to seize its prey. You will see the combat of true men when I bring you to the field of battle.' Human answered him: 'Excess is not fine; do not seek to boast beyond your measure. If some helpless man's last hour has fallen into your hands, do not grow too sure of yourself. In battle with me, where did Arzhang ever prove himself a real man on the day of war? The brave warriors of an army feel no shame; not one lets his warm blood boil over. For it is the commander who wages their fight; in the clash their hands do the harm. Where are the noble Bizhan and Giv, and world-conquering Gudarz son of Keshvad? If you are a champion, from the heart of the army, why have you come to this battlefield? A wise man would call you a stranger to sense; a sober man would call you mad. Go, keep hold of the Kaviani banner; a supreme commander should not step into the fray. Look and see whom the king honored with a robe, which of the heroes seeks the signet and crown. Give the order that they wage a lion's war, that they force the upper hand to give way. If you are killed at my hands, evil will befall that renowned gathering. Your army will be left without a leader and lifeless; if any survive, they will be broken and writhing. And besides, if you hear the honest truth, my soul and heart bear witness on my tongue: I feel grief for the true men who come before me on the day of battle. After Rostam, son of Zal, son of Sam the rider, I have not seen a single champion like you. Renowned and royal, father after father, no warrior like you comes forth in any army. So go, and let one glory-seeker come out from the army, and we two will face each other.' Tus said to him: 'O proud man, I am the commander and also the warrior of the battlefield. You too are a renowned man of the Turanian army; why did you set your mind on the field of combat?' If your heart will take one piece of advice from me, then bind yourself to me in this matter. For as long as a single man stays alive in this feud, no army will find a moment's rest. You and your kin and so many riders, all of them champions, all of them famous men. Do not throw yourself away for nothing; you must keep my advice in mind. Whoever truly deserves to be killed, leave them, until they reach out their hand in vengeance. From this feud no guilty man will find escape; so do not turn away from reason. The king of Iran gave me this counsel: that Piran must not come to harm. For he is my own foster father, worldly wise and dear to me. Do not fight him rashly with injustice; see that he lends an ear to your counsel. So Human spoke, of wrong and right: when the king of blessed lineage gives the command, one must yield to it helplessly, and hand over his heart to him entirely. Even the battle with Piran is not by choice, for he is generous, noble, and good-natured. Tus was still in the middle of this talk, when Giv's face turned pale as amber. He came from the army swift as the wind, and said: O Tus of blessed lineage, that deceiver Human, between the two ranks, came roaring, with foam upon his lips. Why does he now murmur so many secrets to you, this long parley between the two ranks? Speak to him with nothing but the sword; do not seek any path toward peace. When Human heard this, he flew into a rage, and said to Giv, the fortunate one: You whose fortune, and the fortune of the free, is lost, may Gudarz son of Keshvad be lost as well. Many a time you have seen me on the day of battle, an Indian blade in my grip on the field. No warrior of Keshvad's line remains who has not read out the writ of my sword. Your fortune has turned to the face of a demon; in your house there will be mourning forever. If I am killed by the hand of Tus, the custom of mace and war drum will not be undone. Piran and Afrasiab remain in their place; they will make my blood flow like a river. The world will not be swept clean and ruined by my fall; one must speak the truth before this gathering. And if Tus is destroyed by my hand, the army of Iran will not find a single way out. So now you weep over your brother's death; why do you challenge Tus son of Nozar? Tus said to him: What is this raving? On this field the fight is between you and me. Come, let us wheel about and seek revenge, let us meet in battle with brows creased in fury. Human said to him: Death is fated, one head beneath a crown, another beneath a helmet. If death is surely coming for me, better it find me on the field of battle. By the hand of a rider skilled in war, a chief and hero eager for the fight. Both seized their heavy maces, each charging at the other, blow for blow. Dust rose and whirled and the day grew dark; a cloud of it closed over the battlefield. You would think night had fallen upon them in broad day, hiding the world lighting sun. Under the shattering blows of the heavy maces, their heads were like the anvils of blacksmiths. The clang of steel rose into the clouds; a storm broke over a sea of honey. Blood on the lion's paw thickened like curd; the whole plain rang with the sound of swords. The bronze mace bent from the strain; its iron curved like a Chach bow. You would think there were stones beneath the helmets; the face of death itself blackened from the heroes' blows. They gripped their Indian swords in their fists; fire showered down from steel and stone. From the strength of those proud warriors the sharp blades bent and, in the striking, broke to pieces. Their throats full of dust, their heads too, both grabbed at the other's belt. From the force of the champions the stirrups strained, yet neither's head bent low in defeat. The belt snapped and Human leapt free, then mounted a fresh, rested horse. The commander reached for his quiver, strung his bow and fitted a poplar arrow. He began raining arrows on that famous warrior, engaging the riders on left and right. With steel arrowheads and eagle feathers he made a shield before the face of the sun. When two watches of the night had passed, the whole face of the land glittered like diamonds. A poplar arrow wounded Human's horse; the mount's body sank low into the dust. He raised his shield over his head and showed no face; Human kept his head safe from the other's arrows. When the army of Turan saw him on foot upon that battlefield, they cried out, that his place was now left empty; so they brought up his splendid steed. When Human settled onto that silk covered saddle, he took an Indian blade in hand, meaning to come again against Tus in battle; but night turned the world dark as ebony. All the war seeking champions, one by one, turned their faces toward him. When the day grew dark and the hour late, the hands of the heroes fell short of fighting. The warring Human turned his reins away, and the commander leveled his lance straight at him. Human went from the field toward Piran; a great cry rose up from the army of Turan. May the wrath of the proud ones be far from you; may our end in this war be a celebration. How did your fight go, glory seeker, when you came face to face with Tus? Every one of us had a heart full of blood; only God knows the state we were in. Human, the lion, spoke to the army: You battle tested, brave commanders. When the dark night gives way to day, the day is ours, for that world lighting star is on our side. All of you will have your joy and desire; mine will be honor and a good name. Tus kept shouting to his troops from the dark night until the cock's crow. He said: Who is the man of mine that even a raging elephant could stand against me in battle? When the high heavens crowned themselves with jet black, they scattered specks of light across the deep blue sky. The scouts rode out on every side, and set a watchman before each tent. When the sun rose from the sign of Cancer, the world turned white as the face of a Roman. The drums thundered from both camps, and the world filled with the cry of the trumpets. The air went dark with the glow of banners: blood red, night black, yellow, and violet. All drew their swords, maces, and spears, and turned their reins toward the fight. You would think the sky, time, and earth had drawn an iron veil over themselves. The bright sun hid behind a curtain from the surge of riders and the dust and dirt. From the neighing of horses and the clamor of kettledrums, the sky bent down and kissed the earth. The commander Human charged before the ranks, a gleaming javelin gripped in his hand. He said: When I burst into the fray, spurring my horse and raising my war cry, then every one of you, draw your swords and raise your Chinese shields over your heads. See nothing but the horse's mane and the reins; no need for the bow, no need for the spear. Lay the reins right on your horses' necks, and take and give blows as they come. He said to Piran: Champion, unbind the warriors' store of weapons. Do not cling to your hoard of gold; be not the least bit stingy over arms, for today we will be victorious, and our hearts will win favor from a lucky star. On this side, the commander Tus arrayed his army so it dazzled the eye. The heroes called down blessings upon him and named him the champion of the earth, saying he would triumph on the day of battle and raise dust from Human, son of Vaisa. The commander said to Gudarz, son of Keshvad: This secret must be kept from everyone. If our army faces them and the enemy riders gain the upper hand, we will all lift our hands together to God and cast every trace of pride from ourselves. May our God take our hand and help us; otherwise our fortune stands against us. Now, you renowned warriors in golden boots, stand fast beside the royal banner of Kaveh. Do not stir at all from this foothold of the mountain; this is not the day of battle nor the time to advance. It seems the enemy outnumbers us two hundred to one, if not more. Gudarz said to him: if the Creator turns this evil hour away from us, then it is no matter of more or fewer; do not dishearten the spirit and mind of the Iranians. If heaven's gift proves cruel, guard yourself, for time will not grow by our wishing. Marshal your army, and over what is fated do not let your soul torment itself at all.

Tus the commander readied his army: war elephants, brave men, and drums. On foot he moved toward the mountain with the baggage train, while Godarz took command of the right wing. The ranks were drawn up in a single line, with Roham commanding the left wing under Godarz. From the wailing of drums and trumpets, the very sky seemed to shift from its place. The heart of the turning heavens split with the sound, and the throat of the sun filled with dust. It grew so dark that no one could see the plain, from all the dust that rose off the battlefield. Diamonds rained down from the dark clouds; fire flashed from every mace and sword. Gleaming spearheads and the chieftains' blades, banners above, heavy maces below. You would think the air was made of maces and iron, and the whole earth of horseshoes and armor. The plain and the meadows became a sea of blood; the world was like night, the blades like lamps. From the endless wailing of drums and trumpets, no one could tell his head from his feet. Then the war chief said to Godarz: the turning sky has gone dark. This astronomer had told me that today, until three watches of the night had passed, the warriors' swords, like a black cloud, would pour down blood on the field of battle. In the end I fear the victor will be none other than our spiteful enemy. Then Shidush and Roham and Gostaham and Giv, and armored Khorrad and brave Borzin, came forward from the ranks into the heart of the army, hearts wounded and hungry for revenge. A roar rose into the clouds from every side, like a dark night thick with demons. From the other side, Human, solid as a mountain, brought his whole army forward together. Then the true warriors were chosen to set up their place of combat on the plain. Gorazeh, chief of the Givgan clan, with Nahel: two mighty, lionhearted heroes. Roham son of Godarz took on Farshidvard, and Shidush faced Lahhak in combat. Bizhan son of Giv fought Kalbad, the man who could clash fire and wind together. The famous Shatrakh faced Giv: two mighty, brave heroes. Godarz and Piran and Human and Tus showed no sign of delay or regret. Human said: today's fighting must not be like yesterday's battle. Hold your sweet lives in your palms; when I raise my war cry, charge and strike. The ground must be cleared of them; they must never come back seeking vengeance. Tus the commander pressed forward, bringing up his infantry, elephants, and drums. Ahead of the cavalry they drew up a line of shield-bearers, javelin-men, and spearmen. He said: do not move from your positions; keep your shields up with spears pointed forward. Let us see how these battle-hardened chieftains will wield their heavy maces.

Among the Turks there was one named Bazur, who worked his tricks and got his way wherever he went. He had mastered deceit and sorcery, and knew both the Chinese tongue and Pahlavi. Piran, that student of spells, told him: from here go up to the mountain's peak. And at once bring down snow and cold and a howling wind upon them. The air was dark, for it was the month of Tir, and black clouds kept rolling over the mountain. The moment Bazur reached the mountain, up rose a storm of snow and howling wind. The hands of those spearmen all went numb, useless in battle because of the snow. In that upheaval and biting frost there were the cries of warriors and a rain of arrows. Piran ordered the whole army: launch a single charge from this battlefield. But their hands froze fast to their spears, and no one could manage a striking blow. Then Human raised a roar and charged in like a demon. They killed so many of Iran's army that the field became a sea of blood. Gate and plain filled with snow and blood, and Iran's horsemen lay fallen face down. There was no room left to move and fight; snow and the fallen crowded every space. Sword and hand turned black across the field, men slumped forward like drunkards. There was no room to maneuver on that battleground, and the army's hands were ruined by the cold. The commander and his proud captains then turned to heaven with their lament. Saying: you who are higher than knowledge, mind, and reason, not confined to place, yet present everywhere, above and below. We are all your sinful servants; in our helplessness we beg your justice. You stand above all spells and sorcery, lord of the world and judge over judges. In our helplessness you are the one who takes our hand, stronger than fire and than bitter frost. Rescue us from this snow and cold; we have no rescuer but you. A man learned in such matters came and showed Rohham that mountain peak, where the tireless Bazur had his place, working his spells and trickery on that mountain. Rohham stirred from the battlefield and galloped his horse out from the army's midst. He tucked the skirt of his mail into his belt and climbed that peak on foot. When the sorcerer saw him he came to fight, a mace of Chinese steel in his grip. As Rohham drew near the sorcerer, swiftly he pulled his keen sword from its sheath. With the sharp blade he struck off the sorcerer's hand, and a wind rose up like the day of resurrection. It swept the dark clouds from the face of the sky, and Rohham came back down from the mountain, a hero. One who wielded the force of sorcery took to the open plain and mounted his horse. The weather turned back to what it had been before, and the blazing sun showed its face again. He told his father what the sorcery had done, what it had brought upon us on the day of battle. After that the king's brave warriors saw the battlefield turned into a sea of blood. The whole plain was strewn with slain Iranians: bodies without heads, heads without bodies. Then Gudarz said to Tus: not one war elephant is left, and not even the sound of a drum. Let us all draw our swords together and raise a roar, whether we kill or are killed. It seems our time has come; this is no longer a day for combat, arrows, and bows. Tus said to him: you seasoned man of the world, the air has cleared and the cold wind is gone. Why should we throw our lives to the wind, when the rescuer has given us glory and strength? Do not be the first to strike in our battle; these brave enemies will make for us themselves. Do not rush out to meet your fate; do not blindly charge into the enemy's grasp. You, at the center with the royal banner of Kaveh, keep the gleaming sword ready in your hand. On the right wing set Giv and Bizhan together, and let Gustaham guard the left. Let Rahham and Shidush stand at the front rank, and Garaza, foaming at the lips for vengeance. I will go and draw the mace of vengeance from among them, and give my body as a sacrifice before the Iranians. I will not turn my horse back from this battlefield, unless my place becomes the dust, like Zarasp's. If I am killed in this battle, then lead the army home to the king of Iran. Death is more honorable to me than reproach, than being everywhere the mockery of an evildoer. The world is like this, full of pain and hurt; as far as you can, do not chase after more of it. Its excess will harm you one day; a moment's more of living adds nothing to you. Once again the trumpets rose in blast, the clash of bells and the ring of Indian cymbals. From the shouts of quarreling riders, the flash of swords and the blows of axes, from spearheads, maces, javelins, and arrows, the ground became like a sea of pitch. The whole plain was heads and shoulders without bodies; every ear was filled with the crash of clubs. When the battle with the Turks grew this fierce, the Iranians saw no sign of fortune. The harsh face of the star grew dark, and the brave men turned their backs to the enemy. Tus and Gudarz and brave Giv, Shidush and Bizhan and Rahham the lion, all placed their lives in their palms, all sought battle at the front rank. Everyone who fought alongside Tus was a renowned man and a border-lord. At the front they were spilling blood, while the champions fled behind them. A priest called out to Tus the hero: 'No fighting force is left at your back.' 'They must not drive you into the thick of it, or bring ruin on the commander's life.' Then Tus said to brave Giv: 'This army has no sense left in its head.' 'They have abandoned us like this and turned their faces from the fight.' 'Go, turn the troops back from this road, away from the enemy's mockery and the king's shame.' Giv went, and the whole army withdrew; they found the plain and desert heaped with the dead. The commander said to the nobles: 'This is what the war of warriors comes to.' 'Now that the face of day has turned dark, the whole land looks like a sea of blood.' 'We must pick a place to rest, if any rest is possible on this black night.' 'Perhaps a slain man may find, in place of a grave, a bed of sand and a blanket of dust.' They all turned back from battle together, their hearts wounded for their kin and their heads bowed in disgrace. Just then the moon rose over the mountain, like a victorious king upon a turquoise throne. The commander Piran summoned his troops, saying, 'Few of the enemy remain.' 'When the sea of yellow ruby, the dawn, casts its waves upon the deep-blue land,' 'whoever is still alive we will strike down, and torment the heart of their king over them.' They went off from that place rejoicing and settled down before the royal tent. All night, from the sound of harp and lute, no sleep came to that army on the plain. But on the other side the whole army grieved, father mourning son, downcast and broken. The whole plain was full of the dead and wounded; the earth was washed with the blood of great men. Left and right of the battlefield lay hands and feet; no one could set his foot down anywhere. All night they gathered up the wounded, but the dead they left behind, cast off like strangers. They cauterized the wounded with fire, and bound and stitched their torn flesh. Many of Godarz's people were hurt; many were slain and many taken captive. When Godarz heard, he let out a cry; the ground churned with the noise of horses. All the nobles tore their garments, and Godarz scattered dust upon his head. He said, 'No one in the world has ever seen such grief in old age as has come to me.' 'Why should I stay alive, a gray old man, when I have cast so many sons into the dust?' 'From the day I was born I have never once loosened the armor from my waist,' 'and in the end I must watch so many sons of my line lie slain before me like this.' My son Bahram, that renowned lion, that proud warrior, has been torn away from me. When word of Godarz reached Tus, his lashes filled with blood and his face went pale as wax. Then he cried out in bitter grief, and tears of blood poured down his sides. He said: If pure Nozar had not cut down my roots and lineage on this field, I would not now be racked with pain, sorrow, and grief, mourning the dead in the heat of battle. For as long as I have girded myself for war, my heart has been wounded, even if my life survives. Now cover the bodies of the slain with earth, in some hollow of the ground. Bring the severed heads back to their bodies, and carry the baggage toward Mount Hamavan. Let us drive the whole army together, tents and pavilions, toward the mountain. Let us send a swift camel to the king; his heart will kindle, and he will send troops. For this I have already sent a rider, and warned the king of our plight before. Perhaps he will send Rostam, son of Zal, with an army to us at this field of battle. Otherwise, not one brave and famous warrior of ours, like a lion, will be left on the field.

He settled the army and set down the baggage, and often called to mind the ones who had fallen. So the days and nights kept passing, with hearts full of grief and lips that had not tasted food. Every eye brimming with blood, every heart branded, worn down until their souls were as dark as a crow's feather. When he drew near Mount Hamavan, he led the army onto that mountain's skirt. The commander Tus said to Giv: You, wise and famous champion. For three days you have ridden hard like this, without pausing to sleep or eat. Come, rest, take some food, take off your armor and give yourself some ease. For I have no doubt Piran means to fight; he will come after us now without delay. Whoever among this group is the more rested, leave to Bizhan, and you go up the mountain. He drew all the wounded up toward the peak, and from those still fresh he chose a force. He said: This mountaintop is our place; now we must set ourselves in order. The vanguard came down from the mountain to the plain, so that none could slip past against them. The watchmen's shouts and the ring of bells: you would think the very rock had begun to boil. Just then the sun rose in the sky, and the world became like a sea of light. From Piran's court a great clamor rose, as if the earth itself had begun to seethe. He said to Human: Now, for the fight, we surely must not wait too long. The enemy's riders are all slain, or, wounded, they have turned back from the battle. He struck the war drum and an uproar rose from the plain; the vanguard moved out ahead of the army. The Turks reached that battlefield, and found the whole field only tents, without any troops. A messenger went to Piran with the news that there was no Iranian army left there. A shout of joy rose from the army, and they turned their ears to Piran's command. The commander said to his wise men: You renowned and skillful counselors. What shall we do, what is your judgment on this, now that the place stands empty of the enemy? The army's riders, old and young alike, all spoke eagerly to their chief. That their army has fled before us; defeat has fallen on our ill wisher. A battlefield full of blood and dust: from them there is no cause now for fear or dread. We must set out in pursuit of the enemy; it would be strange indeed if you were to linger. One who flees before the wind ends up in the water; better to hurry now than to hang back. Piran said: In time of war, the foot of haste grows weak from delay. An army like a sea of water has gathered before Afrasiab. Let us wait until that great host, the heroes and warriors, arrives. After that we will leave not a single man alive in Iran; this alone is the counsel of the wise. Human said to him: O chief, do not trouble your soul so much over this matter. An army of such force, such fury and fierce breath that the sea's face grew grim before it. Now their tents, their thrones, their royal pavilions all stand abandoned, and they have fled the field. Know that their flight comes from helplessness; showing us their backs is nothing but utter surrender. Let us not allow them to reach Khosrow and gather a fresh army at his court. Rostam will come from Zabolestan to fight; from this delay a dreadful loss would come. Now is the time to make ready and to charge, to devise strategies and cunning tricks. So that Gudarz, along with the commander Tus, the royal banner, the war elephants and drums. We may seize them all without doubt; harm will come if we linger here. The chief answered him: Be sharp of mind and clear of soul. Do as your good fortune and judgment tell you, for the turning heaven is beneath your wing. Then the army set out on its way, the commander Piran and the host of Turan. He ordered Lahhak: Do not stop now; turn your reins with two hundred riders. He said to him: Do not loosen the belt from your waist; go and see where the Iranians are. Lahhak rode off like the wind, giving no thought to sleep or food. When half the dark night had passed, he saw the vanguard on the shadowed plain. A shout came from the mountain and the ring of bells; Lahhak saw no place to linger. He came back to Piran by the road and gave him word of the Iranian army. That they are on Mount Hamavan, and have blocked the road ahead against any harm. Piran ordered Human: Quickly, your reins and stirrup must be put to use. Take with you as many riders as needed, from the proud and renowned champions. For the Iranians, with banner and army, have taken refuge on Mount Hamavan. This battle will bring hardship now; sharpen your wits and find a remedy for the task. If you can capture that man with the Kaviani banner, their faces will turn purple with despair. If you get the chance with your keen sword, cut the banner and all their spears to pieces. I will come up behind, roaring like the wind, and lose no moment of time. Human chose from the army thirty thousand riders, shield bearers and swordsmen. When the shining sun raised its crown and spread camphor over its ivory throne. From afar the army's dust appeared, and the watchman's cry came from the lookout. That a Turkish army had appeared, their dust raised up like a black cloud. When Tus heard it he put on his mail; the horns sounded and the drums roared out. The riders of Iran, all together, drew up their ranks before the mountain. When Human saw that great army, and the chiefs' hefting of mace and blade. Human said to Gudarz and Tus: You came out of Iran with elephants and drums. To take vengeance on the land of the Turks, to drive your army out that way. Now you have picked out this like mountain prey; you have grown worn out by the champions of Turan. Does no shame or disgrace come to you from this? Eating, sleeping, resting on rock and stone. When the sun rises over the mountain tomorrow, I will turn this stronghold of yours into a sea of water. You will know this is a place of helplessness; on this hard granite peak you will have to weep. He quickly sent a swift camel to Piran: My thinking has turned out otherwise. What we had planned has turned out different; we were preparing to charge upon them. The whole mountain is one mass of army and drums, with banners rising behind Gudarz and Tus. Arrange it so that when daybreak breaks and the world lighting sun appears from the sky. You will be here, drawn up with your army, and the face of the plain will be black with troops.

The messenger reached Piran, and when he passed on Human's words, Piran boiled with anger. He set out in the dark of night, at sleeping time, driving the army forward like flowing water. When the sun tore through that pitch-black veil of night and came out, grieved and troubled. The commander reached Mount Hamavan; the mountain vanished under the dust of the army. He said to Human: hold the troops here, do not stir them from the battlefield. Let me go see what the Iranian commander intends, and what fortune he keeps flying under the royal banner. Now that he has taken Mount Hamavan, what promise, what hope does this position give him? He came close to the Iranian army, his head full of spite, his heart full of guilt. He shouted: renowned Tus, lord of the war elephants, the maces, and the drums, Now the fish have come to five: you keep seeking battle only to your own suffering. The greatest of Gudarz's clan all lie headless on that battlefield. You have climbed into the rocks like a mountain goat, your heart full of quarrel, your head full of hate. Fleeing, with the army roaring at your back, you will surely walk straight into the trap. The proud Tus answered: I only mock your lies. You are the one who set the feud loose in the world, spilling the blood of Siyavash among the great. How long will you keep lying like this? Your lies cast no light on us. Fodder ran short on that battlefield; that is why I moved the army up to Hamavan. Now word has reached the king of the world; help will come at any moment, unexpected. The great men of the army have gathered, like Dastan and Rostam of the elephant's body. Once I am sure the king is on the march, I will leave nothing standing in Turan, no land, no home, no crop. Now that you have come, watch what men can do; this is no time for tricks, no day for ambush. When Piran heard, he sent troops on every side and seized the roads up the mountain. From every direction the men of Turan came; he massed the army all around the mountain. When the road to fodder was cut off for them, the commander turned to a scheme for battle. Brave Human said to Piran: we must storm the foot of the mountain. Let us wage such a battle that the Iranians will never again strap on the belt of vengeance. Piran replied: the wind is at our advantage, and no one has ever fought a battle against the wind. Turn your head away from fighting on foot; the warrior's sight grows clouded there. When the road to fodder is closed to an army, no one holds out on hard granite rock. The whole army will come to us begging for quarter; after that they will not seek to fight us. Now is the time for mercy toward them, not the time for battle and battle-array. This counsel reached Gudarz and Tus; the heads of those bold men were dazed with regret. Old Gudarz said to Tus: for us, battle has now become unavoidable. There is food enough for three days at most, and no open road lies ahead on any side. No food, no supplies, no gear, no baggage; how long can an army stay hungry like this? Now, when the sun's face turns pale and that lapis-blue veil of night appears, we must choose out our best mounted men and come down from the heights toward the field of war. Like a night raid, let us wage a hard battle and see how fortune favors us. Whether we give ourselves up one by one to death, or set the crown of the mighty on our heads, such is the end of the battlefield: one man gets the dust, another the crown and throne. Tus heard these words from Gudarz, and his head filled with pain and the old grudge. One flank of the army he gave to Bizhan, the other to brave Shidush and Khorrad. He handed the blessed banner to Gostaham and gave him much advice and counsel.

He, with Giv and Gudarz and a band of chiefs, laid their heavy maces on their shoulders. They moved toward the commander Piran and struck the heart of the army like fire. The whole battlefield turned into a sea of blood, and a great cry rose up from the troops. The commander's banner was torn in two, and the hearts of the warriors filled with fear. When Human heard the roar of the army, he mounted a black Arabian horse. He came from the ranks and saw many slain, and many turned back from the fight, senseless. Blood poured from his eyes down his chest, and he shouted fiercely at his men. He said: there were no scouts posted here; you had no real fire for vengeance. For each one of them we number three hundred, yet on the field you gave yourselves to sleep. Come now, draw your swords and clubs, and pull your Chinese shields over your heads. Block their road from every side, now that the moon lifts its blade from the plain. None of them must find any escape; why then all this delay and hesitation? The trumpet blast rang out, and the heroes rushed off in every direction. The riders of Iran surrounded them all at once, like raging lions. Helmet and sword struck such fire that you would think maces were raining from the clouds. Dark night, swords, and the dust of the army: no star to be seen, no shining moon. In their armor you would say they were buried in rain, sunk in a pitch-black sea from the gloom. Human told his army: enough; do not cut down a single one of these lords. Bring them all captive before me; you must not wound them with arrows. The army answered with a loud cry: now, at their helplessness, bind their hands. Whether you strike with mace or javelin, crown these chiefs with a crown of blood. Tus said to Giv and Roham: without a doubt our lives are now cast to the wind. Unless the Maker of the high heavens delivers our bodies and souls from this ruin. Either we are gripped in the eagle's talons, or we are sunk beneath a sea of water. All three of them charged together, like a fierce lion springing up from its lair. No one could see a horse's neck or its reins; the press was so tight the spearpoints reached men's eyes. Human cried out in a sharp voice: this is no place for fighting, nor a road for flight. Ill fortune has driven you from your ground, so that evil may fall upon the evildoer. Three warriors and a handful of troops were left, all of them, on this battlefield. Again and again they remembered Rostam, how he did justice in battle everywhere. Of Shidush and of Bizhan and Gostaham they thought long, weighing much and little. Wishing that someone from the army of Iran might at least be our ally in this field. We did not come here for combat and war; we have blundered straight into the crocodile's jaws. A pity for that court and throne of the world's king, that now we should be seized so suddenly. The mighty one is in Zabolestan, and so is Zal; now Iran's cause will be shattered and plundered. The sound of clubs and war drums kept coming; Giv and Tus lingered too long from the army. Shidush and the lion-hearted Gostaham said: the fight of the commander has dragged on too long. Bizhan again said to Goraza: the affair of the army's leader has grown long. The air was like pitch, the earth like ebony, and from the plain came the sound of the drums. The heroes moved toward that sound; everywhere on the plain there were streams of blood. From the brave warriors and the force of their hands, you would say a sea-monster had risen from the deep. Human knew that riders had come, all of them mace-bearers and swordsmen. When he knew that help had reached Tus, he roared out like a war drum. Reins grew light and stirrups heavy; who could tell the heights from the hollows? They battled until the break of day, when the world-illuminating sun appeared in the sky. The troops all turned back from the fight and drew their army toward the narrow mountain. Commander Tus said to the heroes: from the turning of the sun to the beat of the drum, such horsemanship as I have seen from you, I have never heard told of any champions. We must write a letter to the king and tell him fully of all that has happened. When the letter reaches Khosrow, a fresh fire will kindle in his heart. The elephant-bodied hero will come to our aid, along with a famed gathering of lions. We will return victorious from the fight, and long to see Kai Khosrow's face. All that has passed, open and hidden, I will tell to the victorious king of the world. With the king's goodwill and satisfaction, time will turn according to your wish. Just as they had spoken, they made it ready, and sped a swift rider to the king. The two armies came down to their tents and drew breath at once from the battle. Scouts came out from both sides onto the plain, warlike men from among the brave. When Human reached that battlefield, he could find no path on the plain for the slain. He said to Piran: today the fighting did not turn out as we wished on the field of battle. When our heroes are rested, our praised riders and our men, I will wage such a battle as neither sun nor moon has ever seen on any field.

After that, when word came to Khosrow that Piran had triumphed in the battle, the commander withdrew to Mount Hamavan, and much of the army vanished away. In the palace of Gudarz, son of Keshvad, the halls stood empty of warriors and noblemen. The very stars grieve for them; blood drips down beside their pillows. Because of them the world is filled with dust and blood; the high fortune of Tus has been overturned. He ordered that Rustam, mighty as an elephant, should come to the court with his company. From Iran came all the wise men, the seasoned and famous priests. The chief of the noble ones began to speak, recalling much of the army's struggle. He said to Rustam: 'O proud one, I fear this reign will not last long, it is sliding down toward the depths; my heart is full of dread at its course.' You are the one who nurtures the crown and throne; the fortune of the world's ruler takes its light from you. The heart of the heavens rests on your sword's point; sky, time, and earth lie beneath you. You tore out the heart and brain of the White Demon; the age pins its hope on your affection. The earth around your steed Rakhsh is your servant; time is to you like a loving mother. The sun is scorched by your blade; Venus weeps at the sight of your mace. By the force of your arrow's tip, on the day of calamity even the lion grows weary of the fight. From the day you first put on the helmet of valor, no enemy has dared even glance at Iran. Now Giv, Gudarz, Tus, and the chiefs, many heroes of this land, all with hearts full of blood and eyes full of tears, are fleeing from Afrasiab's Turks. Many of Gudarz's kin lie slain, their beds now dust on the field of battle. All those among them who escaped with their lives are wounded, gathered on Mount Hamavan. All have turned their faces toward the heavens, toward the Creator of place and time, praying that the mighty hero would come here, by God's power and at my command. On the dark night I read this letter, I poured much blood from my liver in grief. For three days I told no one of this, except before God, the one who answers cries. Now the matter has passed all bounds; my heart is filled with sorrow over this. The hope of the army and its commander rests on you; may your spirit be bright and your body sound. May your head stay green and your heart glad; may Zal's body be spared the malice of ill-wishers. Ask of me whatever more you need: horses, weapons, treasure, and troops. Go with a glad heart and sound judgment; such a task must not be handled slackly. In answer Rustam said to the king: 'May the throne and crown never be without you, for with your glory, majesty, wisdom, and justice, the turning sky recalls no king like you.' Khosrow has heard that ever since Kai Qobad set the great crown upon his head, I have girded myself for Iran's vengeance; not for a single day have I sat at ease. Desert and darkness, demon and lion, sorcery and the fierce dragon, the wars of Turan and Mazandaran, the dark nights and the heavy maces, thirst and the long road, choosing hardship over comfort, such pain and trouble I have seen so much that I have not known a single day of joy. You are the new king by right, and I am like your servant, girded and ready however you command. I will go with an army, my belt tightened, and turn this evil away from the people of Iran. May the king feel no grief for the slain; may the faces of his enemies turn pale. My own liver is wounded for the kin of Gudarz; I have girded myself with mourning. When Kai Khosrow heard his voice, two rivers ran down his cheeks from his eyes. He said to him: 'Without you I want no time on the throne, no crown, no mace, no bow.' May the heavens fall beneath the loop of your lasso; may the heads of crowned kings be in your bonds. Of coins and treasure, crown and jewels, of helmet and bow, lasso and belt, Khosrow's treasurer brought the keys and tore open the mouths of the sacks of silver. The king handed all of Iran over to Rustam, saying: 'O renowned hero, the world's treasure and the keeper of the sword are yours; the heads of the world's lords are beneath you.' You, with the mace-bearers of Zabolestan and the brave lions of Kabolestan, go on like a roaring wind; do not seek delay or command any waiting. Take thirty thousand sword-wielding warriors, the chosen ones of the army, skilled in war. Give Fariborz, son of Kavus, ten legions, so that he may lead the way and seek revenge. The mighty one kissed the ground and said: 'My rein and stirrup are ready and yoked.' Let us set the chiefs in swift motion; let us allow no rest and no sleep. He began to hand out silver to the army, came to the field, and made ready for war. He told Fariborz: 'Set out at dawn; lead your troops at the head of the army.' You must not slumber by day or night until you reach Tus the commander. Tell him not to be rash in battle; to watch for the right moment and not act too slowly. I myself, like a roaring wind, will come, wasting no time upon the road. Let Gorgin, son of Milad, the experienced one, guide the army through good fortune and bad. When the shining sun revealed its face, like an idol with a heart full of love, the trumpets rose in a great cry, and the mighty one set the army moving. The soul of the world-ruling king, full of care, went with him two leagues along the road. Rustam covered two stages in one, resting neither by day nor by night.

One scorching night, his heart heavy with worry, Tus fell asleep to the beating of war drums. In his sleep his bright soul saw a shining candle rise up out of the water. On that gleaming candle stood an ivory throne, and on that throne sat Siavash, crowned and glorious. His lips full of smiles, his words sweet and gentle, he turned his face toward Tus like the sun. He said: 'Keep the Iranians right here, for you will come out of this battle victorious.' 'Tell them not to grieve over any loss, for here there is a fresh new garden of roses.' 'Beneath these roses we drink our wine; who knows how long we will keep drinking it?' He woke with a glad heart, his mind now free of all its pain and sorrow. He said to Gudarz: 'O champion of the world, I have seen a dream with a clear soul.' 'Watch: Rostam, swift as a raging wind, will come to us at any moment now.' He ordered the trumpets sounded, and the army stirred and moved down from the mountain. The warriors of Iran girded their belts and raised high the banner of Kaveh. From the other side Piran brought his troops, and the shining sun went dark with the dust. From the shouting of the warriors and the rain of arrows, the very eye of the sun was dazzled and dimmed. The two armies stood face to face, yet not one of the warriors moved to fight. Human said to Piran: 'We must seek battle; why do you seek delay instead?' 'The army is not out on a hunting field; our horses are still saddled and loaded.' Piran said to him: 'Do not be rash; this is not a day for haste, but a time for words.' 'Last night three men with a small force slipped away from this battlefield at an odd hour.' 'They are like fighting lions and we like a flock, when the fog comes rolling down from the hills.' 'We found the whole plain running with rivers of blood, and the heads of famous men laid low.' 'They hold a mountain, hard granite and barren, where the horses smell thorns as if they were musk.' 'Let them be, until they twist and struggle on that rock; when they are helpless, they will lose their lives.' 'You must not leave the way open on either side, front or rear of this battleground.' 'When the enemy falls into your grip without a struggle, if you rush him, the work turns hard for you.' 'Why should we go seeking battle? A hundred horsemen as scouts on this plain are enough.' 'Let us wait until the enemy runs short of food and water and begs for mercy to save his life.' 'Unless they eat clay or gnaw hard stone, when their supplies run out they will starve and die.' They went back from that battlefield to their tents, and the scouts moved out ahead of the army. The warriors all loosened their belts and set their minds to the table and to feasting. The commander Tus came to the battlefield, his heart full of blood, his face pale as amber. He said to Gudarz: This matter has turned dark; the fortune of the Iranians has gone astray. On every side an army surrounds us, and the sun burns fiercely over the east. The troops have little food left; no remedy remains but the mace and the sword. At dawn we will draw our swords, and drive the whole army down the mountain's skirts. If a lucky star lends its aid, it will grant me triumph over them. But if the judge of heaven decides instead to end our days by the sword, no one can add to or subtract from the Creator's portion, so do not waste your breath in vain protest. Death with a noble name is sweeter to me than living on in fear and harm. On this they all agreed as one: that a fortunate leader lays a good foundation. When the sun thrust its claw from the Crab and tore open the musk-dark robe of night, a messenger came to Piran from the king: Countless armies have arrived from every quarter, an army that, on the day of battle, would grind the sea of China into a desert with its dust. First, the commander, the Khaqan of China, whose throne the earth itself can hardly bear, his body strong as a hundred fierce lions; he can force down the head of a mighty elephant. There is a chief from Transoxiana who raises his head above the turning sky, tall as a cypress, his face like the moon; a world-conqueror in whom crown and throne take pride. The chief of the proud ones, named Kamus, will make a great name against Gudarz and Tus. From the frontier of Sepijab to the plain of Rome, every army in the settled lands, I have now sent off to the battle, to bring ruin upon Tus and Khosrow. When Piran heard this among the army of Turan, he said: You proud servants of the king, at this good news from the king, old and young alike, be joyful and clear of spirit. Now we must wash our hearts clean of grief; I will leave nothing standing of Iran, its land, or its harvest. My mind has found rest from war, from toil, from seeking vengeance, and from mustering the army. In Iran and Turan, on land and water, none shall see anything but Afrasiab's will fulfilled. From the army, one by one, they came to the chieftain with fresh good news. They said: O famous chieftain, may you live forever joyful and clear of spirit. Gladden your heart with the sight of kings, and free your soul from worry. From Kashmir to beyond the river of honey, there are banners, armies, elephants, and litters. First I will come with the Khaqan of China, whose crown is the sky and whose throne is the earth. Like a war decree whose blade brings the fighter's head down into the dust. A hero like Kamus, the swordsman, whose eyes have never seen defeat. He achieves astonishing deeds; when his anger flares, he brings wind and snow. When he is pleased, he brings you spring, roses and hyacinths by the stream. From Saqlab comes the man brave as a lion, like Piruz, a mine of the battlefield of the heavens. Like Sagsar the mountaineer, like Shangul from India, the sky full of banners, the earth full of silk. Chaghani, like Fartus who lights up the army, Gahar of Gahan, a warrior who scorches heroes. Shimran of Shagn and Gardvi of Vahr, spread out with spears and poisoned swords. Now hold your head high and take your ease, for at this good news even an old man grows young. You are the champion and the vanguard of the army; may you always live glad, your command ever renewed. The heart and soul of Piran filled with laughter; you would think a dead man had come back to life. Piran said this to Human: I will go out to meet this gathering. For they have come from a long road, thoughtful and ready for battle. They have no need of coming here; they are lords of the crown, worthy of the throne. They rank no lower than Afrasiab, for they too have thrones, treasure, rank, and honor. I will go and see how many they are and what they are like, who commands them and who the warriors are. I will offer my praise before the Khaqan of China, and kiss the ground before his throne. I will see the proud Kamus, and set Shangul face to face with Tus. When I return here I will gird myself for war and raise smoke and fire from the Persians. If they cannot withstand the fight, I will turn their day dark and narrow. Every one of them who is a chief, I will bind hand and foot with heavy chains. I will send them to Afrasiab; I will seek neither rest nor sleep in this. Every soldier of theirs who falls into my hands, I will strike off his head low with the sword. I will burn them and scatter their dust to the wind, so that no memory of that land remains. After that I will march the army in three parts, and turn the day dark upon the king of Persia. One part I will send to Balkh, and make the day bitter for the Persians. Another part toward Kabulistan; I will drag the soil of Zabulistan to Kabul. The third part I will lead toward Persia, taking with me the nobles and lions among the Turks. Woman and child, young and old, I will let no one keep body and soul together. I will leave nothing standing in the land of Persia; may neither their hand nor their foot remain. For now, let me get things ready and set my plans; do not seek any fight with them yourselves. He said this and left, his heart full of hatred; you would think his very skin was splitting off his body. To the army the brave Human spoke like this: no one should wipe the grudge from his heart. For two days bear this one hardship on your bodies; keep both eyes fixed on Mount Hamavan. We must not let them slip away one night without delay, fleeing from this narrow ground. Now mountain and river, gate, plain and road: a whole world will fill with the banners of the army. When Piran reached the neighborhood of the army, he could not see the gate or plain for the horses' hooves. The world was full of pavilions and tents, pitched in red and yellow, violet and blue. Of Chinese silk and fine brocade, a banner rising from the middle of each tent. He stopped, amazed at the sight, and turned many thoughts over in his heart. Is this paradise or a battlefield? Is this the high heaven, or a crown and a throne? He came near the Khaqan of China and, on foot, kissed the ground before him. When the Khaqan saw him he embraced him, marveling at Piran's shoulders and neck. He asked him many questions and honored him, seating him close beside himself. He said to him, bravo, bravo, that I sit with such a champion, so joyful and clear of soul. Then he asked, among the Persian army, who holds the seal, the banner, and the crown? Which of them are the fighters, and who are the heroes seated on this mountaintop, gathering their forces? The champion answered him like this: may you stay clear-minded and bright of soul. May the greeting of the world's Creator be upon you, for by your asking you have gladdened your servant's heart. By your fortune I am joyful and sound of body; my soul keeps seeking the dust of your feet. As for the Persians the king asked about: they have no treasure, no army, no crown, no throne. They fought and warred beyond all measure, yet from the battle they have nothing but hard rock. When they were left without desire, without honor, without strength, they fled to Mount Hamavan. Their commander is Tus, a bold man; on the open plain he does not fear to fight a lion. Great men like Godarz son of Keshvad, and noble ones like Giv and Roham. By the good fortune of the proud Khaqan of China, the general will see no army but this one. The Khaqan said to him, stay here beside me and gather an assembly. For this one day let us drink to our heart's content and not count the sorrow of the day still to come. He decked out the tent like a garden in spring; you would call it paradise, so full of color and design. When the sun climbed onto the dome of the sky, the hearts of Tus and Godarz filled with urgency. Why are the Turks so quiet today? Let me learn if it is because they are drunk and senseless. Whether they are grieving or rejoicing, I have grown suspicious, fearing some evil is at hand. If fortune has come to their aid in this battle, then know that bad times have arrived for us. Count all the Iranians as already dead, or, if alive, as fleeing the field of war. Unless Rostam comes to this battlefield, evil will befall us from this army. We will find no grave or tomb, not one of us; the horses' hooves will pound our heads into the dust. Giv said to him, 'Commander of the king's host, what has happened that your thoughts have turned so dark?' Our situation tells a different story: the Creator of the world is your helper. We have scattered many seeds of goodness, and we worship the Maker of the world. And beyond that, we have the fortune of the world-ruling king, master of sword, throne, and crown. The Creator of the world will not lend a hand so that we ever need to beg from our enemy. When Rostam comes to this battlefield, all the troubles of the army will come to an end. No one should despair of God; even if the night comes, the face of day will turn white again. Just because they did not seek battle with us for a single day, do not let your heart tighten with idle fear. The heavens have not shut their doors against us; every evil suspicion will at last reach its end. If the decree of the high Creator is such that harm should come upon us, then no caution or scheming will turn misfortune away from us. Let us dig a trench before the army, just as custom, tradition, and the proper way require. For battle we will draw our swords; two more days, whether they kill or we kill. We will see what they begin; without doubt their secret will be laid bare. News will come from Iran, and the branch of the tall cypress will shine bright. Commander Gudarz climbed to the mountain peak and left the midst of the crowd. When the shining sun turned from the dome of the sky and passed from its height toward the west, a bitter cry came from the lookout: the fate of Iran's warriors has been ruined. The world turned toward the west with dust, everywhere like a night of lapis blue. The shining sun turned purple from the dust, so many elephants there were, and banners on their backs. Gudarz heard the lookout's cry and said, 'We have no companion now but the dark earth.' Rakhsh grew black as pitch from grief, so stricken it was as if pierced by an arrow. He said, 'From the star of my fortune my share has been vengeance and endless war.' In this world my portion is ill fortune; where an antidote should be, poison has been scattered instead. I had grandsons and sons, a whole army of them, each one famous in every land. In revenge for Siavash they were all slain, and my watchful fortune turned against me. I have lost hope in this life; my luck went dark and my bright days too. I wish my mother had never given birth to me, and the lofty sky had never spread above me. The commander said to the lookout: You clear sighted man with a bright mind, look out at the armies of Turan and Iran, see whether they hold back from the battlefield. Where is the banner of Iran's chief? Watch the left of the army and the right. The lookout told him: from both sides I see no movement and no talk. At this the commander filled with grief, and pale tears poured from his eyes. He groaned and said: saddle the horse; from now on let a brick be my pillow. I will go and fill my eyes and my arms; I will embrace Giv and Shidush, and Bizhan son of Giv, and Roham too, the warrior riders and the willful ones. In farewell I will kiss each face and shed many tears from my lashes. They laid the saddle on the prancing bay, and at once a cry came from the watchtower: O commander of the world, rejoice! Be free of sorrow, pain, and grief, for from the road of Iran a dark dust has risen, and the day has turned deep blue. Many banners rose up from within the army, gleaming like the shining moon. At the front is one with the image of a wolf, and a little way off, one with the image of the moon. I see a banner with a dragon on it, and above it appears a golden lion's head. Gudarz said to him: may you live forever, and may the evil eye stay far from your face. If your words come true, just as you have said with your honest judgment, I will give you so much precious treasure that afterward you will want for nothing. And after that, once we go back to Iran and stand before the king of the brave, I will suddenly bring you before his throne and raise your rank above the great ones. Now, like a rushing wind, leave this place and go to the leader of Iran's army. Tell them everything you have seen. Be quick, and seek good news from everyone. The lookout said to him: from this watchtower I cannot go before Iran's army. When I see that the face of the earth has grown dark, the watch on this tower becomes useless. Then, like the Simorgh, I will carry the news from this watchtower to Iran's army. The commander said to the lookout: for now keep watching with your keen eye. Look again from the high mountain, he said: when will they reach us? The answer came: tomorrow at dawn that army will arrive at Mount Hamavan. The commander grew as joyful at these words as a lifeless body that suddenly finds its soul again. On the other side, Piran drove his army toward the field of war, swift as blowing dust. A rider came ahead with the news, and told him all he had seen, the small of it and the great. When Human heard it he laughed and said: without a doubt, waking fortune has become our companion. A joyful roar rose from the Turanian army in that battlefield, up to the clouds. The nobles of Iran were full of grief and sorrow, their faces yellow and their lips gone blue as lapis. After giving each other counsel, they scattered in groups all around the mountain. Everywhere they gathered in small circles and mourned for their own fate. Saying: what a pity for these brave men of royal blood, of whom no memory will remain in Iran. Now our shrouds will be the bellies of lions, and the earth will be soaked with the blood of the brave. The commander said to Bizhan son of Giv: get up and draw the secret from its hiding place. Go to the peak of the high mountain and see who they are, what they are, how, and how many. By which road is the army coming, and who holds the royal pavilion, throne, and command? Bizhan son of Giv went up to the mountaintop, alone, away from the crowd. From that summit he looked in every direction: the banners of the horsemen, the elephants, and the army. He came running back toward the commander, his heart full of sorrow and his spirit wounded. He told him: there are so many troops and elephants that the face of the earth has turned indigo blue. There is no counting the banners and spearheads; the sun cannot break fresh through the dust into the sky. If you tried to count them, there would be no number or measure; the ear goes deaf from the war drums. When the commander heard his words, his heart filled with pain and his face with tears. He gathered all the chiefs of the army and spoke to them with warmth and deep concern for the troops. He said: from the turning of fate I see nothing ahead but the sorrow of battle. I have passed through many highs and lows, but never has such a terror come before my face. Now there is only one remedy for our situation here, even though our weapons and troops are few. Let us prepare and tonight launch a night raid, and make the earth run with their blood like the Oxus. If we are killed in battle, we will earn no blame from the king. No one will say a warrior died without honor, even if I must be laid beneath the dust. At this every soldier grew calm and willing, every man who was on that battlefield.

When the face of the world turned black like a sea of tar, and neither Venus nor Mars nor Mercury could be seen, the lookout came running to Tus, his face pale as amber from the news. He said: General of the army, reinforcements have come from Iran, sent by the king. The commander smiled and told his chiefs: You, famous warriors and heroes, now that help has arrived, we will not rush into battle; sometimes we press on, sometimes we hold back. By the power of God, the mighty Rostam is coming to join our gathering. That news from the lookout gladdened every heart; old and young alike gave the good tidings. He sent out scouts across the battlefield; from the mountains rose shouting and the ring of bells. When the sun climbed onto the domed sky, dark night vanished from the world. The Khan of China called an assembly and had the ground dressed in silk brocade. He told Piran: Today we prepare for war; not a single day should be wasted. We will meet them with proud, fierce champions, famed riders who cut down their foes. Let us see whom the Iranians have gathered, and who stands with them on this field. Piran replied: The Khan of China is a wise and blessed king. We must do as he desires, for your judgment rules over us all. Then from the royal pavilion rose the thunder of war drums and trumpets. The gleaming spears and the seething army turned the face of the land black with troops. They set five saddles upon the elephants, adorning them further with Chinese brocade. The saddles were studded with topaz, made of gold-woven, turquoise-colored silk, with golden stirrups and leopard-hide straps, with golden and silver bells and chimes. On each elephant driver's head, an ornate crown, all with collars and earrings. The air was so full of silken banners it looked like a bazaar in China, red and yellow and violet. An army marched onto that battlefield so splendid it made you long for a feast instead. The earth glittered like a rooster's eye from all the colors, ornaments, elephants, and drums. The kings led their army forward; the air filled with the wail of trumpets. When Tus the commander saw them from afar, he drew up all the troops he had into ranks. The champions of Iran girded themselves for battle, and Giv raised the banner of Kaveh. From the battleground to the mountain's crest, the men of Iran stood group upon group. Warriors like Kamus, Manshur, the Khan of China, Bivard, and blessed Shangol, went up to Mount Hamavan to observe; they had not come by choice to face the enemy. When the Khan of China looked from afar and heard the roar of Iran's horsemen, he was impressed and said: Now that is an army, warlike riders thirsting for revenge. The commander Piran spoke differently: A man's true skills should not be hidden. A general who conceals a pit under thorns, then gallops his horse over it on the hunting day, does better than one who, foolishly on the day of battle, buries his enemy's skills under dust. I have never seen riders and proud champions of such courage and manliness as these. The Khan of China said to Piran: What shall we do now on this field of vengeance? Piran told him: They will not care about a small army on this battlefield. You have endured such hardship and so long a road, crossing every valley and height. Stay three days on this field; let us rest, and let the army recover. After that I will split the army in two, for now the days of dread and battle have come. From dawn until noon our world conquering riders will charge, with javelins and daggers, arrows and bows, they will press the fight against these doubters. For the second half of the day another group will fight until night rises over the mountain. In the dark night I will send fresh troops into battle so their situation grows desperate. I will not let them rest at all, my riders with their full force and gear. Kamus said to him: This is not sound counsel; I have no patience for such delay. For so few men and this kind of fighting, why should we linger so long? Let us prepare once and strike at once; let us close mountain and pass upon them. We will drive our army from here into Iran; we will leave no throne, no crown, no king. We will lay their land and home to ruin; we will fight not as men but as lions. Women and small children, old and young, king and margrave and champion alike, in Iran I will leave no home or place, no palace, no hall, no beast of burden. Why waste so many days on this, holding useless grief and sorrow and worry? Just for tonight, keep the road blocked so they cannot escape from this battlefield. When the wind of dawn begins to blow, the whole army must charge into the fray. Tomorrow you will see a mound of the slain, heaps of Iran's champions, high as a mountain. So that the Iranians, every last one, will meet nothing on this road but a mourner. The Khan told him: There is no better plan; in all the world there is no army marshaler like you. All the famous men agreed with this, that Kamus the lion slayer had laid the foundation. They rose and went from their places, and all night long they arrayed the army.

When the sun pitched its tent of yellow silk across the deep blue dome of the sky, a loud cry rose from the watchtower: 'Gudarz, commander of the army!' 'An army has come, the road grows near; the day has darkened from the dust their horses raise.' Gudarz stirred from his place and brought forth his swift steed. He turned his face toward the dark dust cloud, his heart pierced with worry as he searched the way. When he came near them, he saw the banner of Fariborz, son of Kavus, who was the vanguard of Iran's army, esteemed, and their newly appointed commander. Old Gudarz dismounted, that wise, army-cheering leader who welcomed knowledge. They took one another in their arms, and a mournful cry rose from them both. Fariborz said: 'Old general, you are forever bound to war.' 'You have suffered loss over the vengeance for Siavash; alas, the riders of the house of Gudarz.' 'May you be greatly rewarded for them; may the head of your enemy's fortune be brought low.' 'Thanks to the Lord of sun and moon that I find you alive and in your place.' Gudarz wept tears like blood for them, for they lay slain and buried in the earth. He said to him: 'Look how, through cruel fortune, misfortune strikes my head at every hour.' 'In this war neither son nor grandson remains, no army, no banner, no war drum remains.' 'I have forgotten that former battle; now is the time for combat, now is the work.' 'There is so vast an army on this plain and meadow that the face of the earth has turned black like a raven's wing.' 'The whole army of Tus against this host is like a dark night beside the moon's light.' 'From China and the Slavic lands, from India and Rome, from the ruined and the flourishing corners of the world,' 'it seems not a single living soul remains that has not girded its belt to fight us.' 'Now, until you tell me where Rustam is, my back will not straighten under these sorrows.' Fariborz said: 'He set out after me from his place, and had no thought but battle.' 'Through the dark night until dawn he presses on the road, wasting no time.' 'Now where shall I take my rest, and where shall I lead this feeble little army?' Gudarz said to him: 'What did Rustam say? For his words must not be hidden.' Fariborz said: 'O world-experienced man, the mighty one ordered us not to fight.' 'Stay,' he said, 'in that battleground; do not advance before the army.' 'You must rest on that battleground until my banner appears.' He set off, and Gudarz went with him; they marched swiftly along the road to Hamavan. When the army became visible from the watchtower, the lookout hurried to the army of Turan. 'An army has come from Iran onto the plain, and from that side has crossed toward Hamavan.' The general went to the Khaqan of China: 'An army has come from the land of Iran.' 'We do not know its size or who its commander is; what shall we do, and what is the cure for this?' Kamus the battle-tester said to him: 'Wherever you, as chief, take your stand,' 'with the great nobles of Afrasiyab's court, an army like a sea of water,' 'you know what you accomplished in these five months on this plain against that feeble little army.' 'Now that the earth from end to end is all army, with the Khaqan and the hero of Kondur here,' 'wait, and we will show our skill; you locked the door, and we will bring the key.' 'If from Kabul and Zabul and Persia and India the face of the earth turns to Roman silk,' 'surely they are not more than I alone; tell me, who exactly are these Iranians?' 'You are afraid of famous Rustam; I will be the first to destroy him.' 'If I once trap him in my snare, I will leave no name of him in the world.' 'You have been wounded by the army of Sistan; you have set your heart on fighting them.' 'Watch my hand once in battle, and see the dust rise from the plain.' 'Then you will know who is a man in this world, who the brave ones are, and what real combat is.' Piran said to him: 'May you live long; may misfortune's hand stay far from you always.' The Khaqan of China said thus to Piran: 'You have opened Kamus's path to vengeance.' He put into deeds all that he had spoken, this man who was a match for a mountain and a mate for an elephant. 'There is not so much to say about the Iranians; do not dishearten the warriors like this.' 'We will leave not one proud head in Iran; we will raise its dust from valley to peak.' 'All who hold rank and dignity we will send to Afrasiyab,' 'their feet all bound in heavy chains, and many of their chiefs cast down.' 'We will leave in Iran not a leaf on a tree, no throne, no king, no crown, no seat of power.' Piran laughed and offered his praise to those famous men and to the Khaqan of China. He came to the camp with a joyful heart, and the Turks went off at once. Men like Human and Lahhak and Farshidvard, the great ones and the lions of the day of battle. They said: 'An army has come from Iran, with a vanguard bearing a black banner.' A famous, spirited scout went out and returned at once. They said: 'It is Fariborz, son of Kavus, with a proud, king-worshipping army.' 'As long as Rustam is not there, there is no fear of him; his breath is no antidote to this poison.' 'Even Kamus, on the day of battle, does not count the mighty-bodied one as a real man.' 'May Rustam not come here to fight, however much Kamus is a crocodile in war.' 'Neither Rustam nor the army of Sistan is here; here there is only dust and blood for Fariborz.' Piran said thus: 'I have grown sick of throne and power, and weary of the sun and moon.' 'For when I heard that an army had marched from Iran and reached this battleground,' 'my soul and the marrow of my head filled with pain, and a cold sigh rose from my heart.' Kalbad said to him: 'What is this grief? Why should one weep over Tus and Rustam?' 'With so many maces, swords, elephants, and troops, there is no room even for a breath of wind between them.' 'What are the Iranians before us? Mere dust. Why fear Kay Khosrow, Tus, or Rustam?' They scattered from that place and made their way toward their tents. After that, when word came to Tus that the face of the land was filled with the sound of war drums, that the mighty hero had come from Iran, along with Fariborz, son of Kavus, and that gathering, he ordered the war drums beaten; from the army's dust the mountain turned black as ebony. A roar rose from Mount Hamavan, and the earth churned with the thunder of horses. The general opened his tongue to them and spoke much of Mazandaran, of what Rustam did in his war with the demons, and what he brought upon them on the day of battle. The army called blessings upon the champion: 'Be watchful of heart and bright of soul.' 'For this good news, if you asked for our very eyes it would be right, for this news is the adornment of our souls.' 'Now that the mighty-bodied one has come to fight, this army cannot stand against such a crocodile.' 'Let us wage, each one of us, such a battle that we wipe this shame from the Iranians.' The proud banner of the Khaqan and his crown, the golden shields and that ivory throne, the golden crowns of the elephant-drivers, the golden spearheads and golden belts, the golden bells, both great and small, such as no one in the world has ever seen, and the parasol woven from the tail feathers of a male peacock, set all over with countless gems, 'and more besides we will seize, when we risk our lives and press the fight.' Watchful Tus said to the army: 'We are both fearful and full of regret.' 'The whole skirt of the mountain is full of the enemy's army; the heads of our famous men are caught in a bind.' 'When Rustam comes, he will reproach us; perhaps he will inquire into this matter,' 'how I was caught like a bird twisting in a snare, everything gone wrong, every fight half-baked.' 'The general was the same, the army the same, yet I saw not one of the spirited heroes.' 'Let us make one charge like fierce lions, so they are uprooted from the mountain's foot.' The army said: 'Do not seek this glory for yourself; say nothing at all of this kind.' 'Let no one advance beyond this mountain until Rustam has looked upon this battleground.' 'Let us stand before God, for He is the guide to all that is good.' 'By the command of the Keeper of sun and moon, the mighty one will come to this battleground.' 'Why keep your star clouded and grim? Give coins and gold to the poor.' In joy, from the heroes of Iran's host a great cry rose up from the mountaintop.

When the sun clawed its way over the back of the bull, the cry of the lark rose up from the plain. From Kamus's court a shout went up, for he was the one who unhorsed men and led the charge. He gathered his army and handed out armor, his heart full of battle, his head full of pride. He wore chainmail beneath his shirt, a helmet for his cap, a coat of mail for his robe. From the lookout point a cry reached the Iranians: from this side an army is closing in. The banner of the great, elephant-bodied commander appeared in the distance with his host. And from the other side the army of Turan turned the sky into a black cloud. Their commander, a horseman like a chunk of mountain, so heavy the ground groaned under his horse's hooves. A mace like the head of a buffalo, his army behind him, his spearmen in front. That neck and those shoulders swelled with the weight of the mace; no wonder if the sight left you amazed. And on the Iranian side, the commander Tus sent the sound of the war drum up into the clouds. When the champion's lookout heard that roar, he grew glad and his spirit brightened. From beside Gudarz, son of Keshvad, a rider raced swiftly to Faribarz. Saying: the army of Turan has come to fight; they have drawn up their ranks and pressed close. Do what befits your noble blood, for you are the greatest and your father is king. The mighty warrior is already on his way; even now he will reach this battlefield. Faribarz, with an army of brave heroes, came and joined forces with Tus and Giv. They drew up their troops on the mountain and adorned the blessed banner. When the left flank was aligned with the right, along with the rear guard, the center, and the baggage train, the blast of the trumpet rose, and the army moved out like a turning heaven. When Kamus pressed forward into battle, he did not linger a moment on the plain. He drove his army like a flood of water rushing down from the mountains in haste. He brought them and reached Mount Hamavan; the sky turned dark blue, the earth vanished from sight. When he drew near, he turned his face toward the mountain, then turned, laughing, toward the crowd of his men. Saying: this is a dense and warlike army; it is not Piran and Human and their host. Which of the Iranian warriors do you have who will dare face me? Look at my height and my stature, my arm and my sword and my mace. When Giv heard these words he flared up; enraged, he drew his sword from its sheath. When he came closer he said to Kamus: perhaps a raging elephant is this man's match. He drew his bow, set an arrow to the string, and called to mind the kindness of the Creator. He rained arrows down on Kamus, bending his bow like a spring storm cloud. When Kamus saw the hand release the string, he hid his head beneath his shield. Then he charged in with his spear like a wolf, like a lion mounted on a mighty elephant. When he reached his enemy, he drove a spear straight at his waist. As Giv shifted in his saddle, the gleaming spear slid past and missed him. Quickly he drew his sword from its sheath, roared and blazed, and called out his name. Grim, he closed in on the rider, struck with his blade, and cut his spear clean in two. From the center of the army Tus watched, looking on at the fight of these brave men. He knew that Giv was no match for Kamus, for no spearman could equal Kamus but Tus himself. Shouting, he came out from the heart of the host, riding to Giv's aid, hungry for vengeance. Kamus pulled his reins up short and rode into battle between the two warriors. Brave Tus's horse could no longer keep pace, so the commander called on God's name. On foot, spear in hand, he fought on the field before the army against his foe. Two noble warriors and a single rider, yet the man of Kashan never tired of the fight. So it went until the sun's light dimmed, and all across the plain the tumult raged. When the plain turned the color of ebony, Kamus and Tus finally drew apart. Both armies withdrew to their tents, one toward the plain, the other toward the mountain. When the sky was emptied of sun and moon, scouts rode out from both armies. From the watchtower the lookout spoke: the plain is full of dust and the night has grown dark. The plain and the hills are full of voices, and among the champions there are many torches. It seems the elephant-bodied hero has come, charging in, with a whole host from Zabol. When Gudarz son of Keshvad heard this, he swiftly left the granite mountain in the dark night. That dragon-figured banner appeared, and turned the dark night's world to violet. When Gudarz saw the mighty hero's face, his tears flowed until Rakhsh vanished from his sight. He dismounted from his horse, and Rostam too came down and rushed forward like a roaring wind. They took each other in their arms, and from both a mournful cry rose up, grieving for those renowned sons of Gudarz whose time had ended in the search for revenge. Gudarz said to him: O champion, wise, warlike, and bright of soul, the crown and throne draw their splendor from you, and whatever you say is never false. To the Iranians you are dearer than mother and father, better than treasure, throne, and jewels. Without you we are like fish on dry land, gasping, our lives on the edge of ruin. But now that I have seen your kind face, your warm words and your love, my grief for those noble dead has lifted; by your fortune, nothing remains for me but a smiling face. Rustam told him: keep your heart glad, and free your mind from the sorrows of this world. For the world is nothing but deception and a snare; sometimes it helps you, sometimes it strikes you down. One it lays in bed, another it drives to war; one to glory, another to disgrace. We must go on, there is no escape from it, and I too am no match for death. May your soul be free of pain; let all our going be toward the battle. After that, when Tus and Giv and the brave riders of Iran learned the news, that Rustam had reached Mount Hamavan, the world-wise Gudarz caught sight of him. The army set out like the wind; up rose the shouting and the wail of trumpets. When the banner of the mighty hero appeared, in the dark night the army reached Rustam. The troops and their commander dismounted, belts fastened for battle, hearts uplifted. A cry of grief broke from the army for the fallen who lay beneath the earth of war. Rustam's heart was wounded by their sorrow, and he girded himself anew for vengeance. Then the army mourned in pain when he learned what had happened on the battlefield. He gave much counsel and said: leaders, today a hard battle stands before us. Such is the beginning and the end of war: one wins a crown, another a narrow grave. The world-illuminer pitched his royal tent, with the army of the Southland at his back. On the mountain they set up their tents and raised the commander's banner high. The mighty-bodied hero sat upon his throne, and the great ones of the army gathered around. On one side sat Gudarz and Giv, on the other Tus and the brave warriors. A bright candle was set before them, and talk of every kind, of small things and great, went round. Of the deeds of the great and the fighting of the army, of the shining sun and the turning moon. They told the renowned chief much about that countless enemy host, about Kamus and Shangul and the Khaqan of China, about the warlike Manshur and the men of vengeance. As for Kamus, there is nothing to say: we have no way even to face him. He is a tree whose fruit is all maces and swords; he would not flinch if stones rained from the clouds. He does not flee from war elephants; his head is full of hatred, his heart full of strife. From this mountain to the shores of the honey-sweet sea, there are banners and troops and elephants and litters. If you, the army's champion, had not come our way, everything would have fallen to ruin. Thanks to the victorious God, who brought our pain and hardship to an end. Our lives were surely revived by you; no one held any hope of surviving the hour. For a while the champion stood weeping over those slain, his spirit darkened with grief. Then he said: from the moon in the sky down to the surface of the dark black earth, you will find nothing but heat, sorrow, and toil. Such is the way of this passing world. The turning heaven acts without reason: sometimes poison and war, sometimes honey and love. Whether slain or dead, we all pass on; it is fitting not to keep asking how and why. Things must go as their time dictates. Do not rage against the turning of the sky. May the victorious ruler of the world be our ally, and may the enemy's fortune be turned upside down. From now on let us pursue this vengeance and bring the world into Iran's service. All the nobles cried out in praise: may time and earth never be without you. May you always be renowned and glad; may the victorious king never be without you. When the world-lighting sun blazed up from the mountain, day seized the two tresses of the dark night. It drew back that veil of pitch and, with its teeth, dragged the moon's lip through blood. War drums rose from both camps, and the warriors of the armies set out from their places. The commander Human came before his troops, gazing in every direction. Wondering who had come to aid the Iranians, since new tents and pavilions had appeared. He saw a royal pavilion of turquoise brocade, with many screens set up around it. The commander's banner and spearhead stood in front, and fortune's turning wheel seemed to march ahead of him. He saw another pavilion, this one black, with a banner gleaming bright like the moon. Fariborz, son of Kavus, with his elephant and drums, had pitched many tents near Tus. He came, full of grief, and told Piran that the day had been paired with much suffering. For from the Iranian side the clamor, the shouting, and the uproar last night were far greater than on any other night. At dawn I went out alone from my tent and looked over the army on every side. Many troops have arrived from Iran, come to this battlefield to give aid. There is a green pavilion of brocade, and a banner in the shape of a dragon standing tall. Around it an army from Zabol, bearing shields and Kabuli daggers. I suspect that Rostam has come from the king's side to give aid on this battlefield. Piran said to him: the times will be hard if Rostam has come to this fight. Neither Kamus survived, nor the Khaqan of China, neither Shangol nor the champions of the land of Turan. At once he pulled back from the battlefield and came to look over the commander. From there he rode swiftly toward Kamus, coming close to Manshur and Fartus. He said: at first light I set out from here early and scouted all around the Iranian army. A vast force has come to their aid, many vengeful warriors eager for battle. I suspect it is that elephant-bodied Rustam I warned this gathering about. The army of the Iranian king has marched out and come to this battleground to help. Kamus said to him: you full of wisdom, your whole heart has been carried off by dark worry. Suppose Kaykhosrow himself has come to fight; do not cramp your bold heart with this concern. Why do you keep going on about Rustam? Do not mention Zabulistan again and again. If the crocodile in the sea of China saw my banner in hand, it would roar with dread. Go, marshal the troops and draw up the army; bring the banner onto the field. When I enter the fight with my host, you must not hesitate for a moment. Now you will see how men do battle: the whole plain turned into a sea of blood. At those words the champion's heart grew glad and was freed from all worry about Rustam. He gave every soldier helmet and armor, all the while repeating Kamus's words. From there he came before the Khaqan of China and kissed the ground. He said: my king, may you live forever; the sight of you is nourishment for the soul. You cut through a long and hard road; you bought our struggle to make it a feast. In this way, out of respect for Afrasiyab, you crossed the waters of the sea by ship. The army keeps its back straight because of you; act as befits your noble blood. Deck out the elephants with bells and chimes; fill the world with the wail of the war-trumpet. Today I will bring war upon the army; you stay in the center with the elephants and the war-drums. Guard the rear of my army; lift my crown up to the clouds. Warlike Kamus spoke to me thus: you shall be the vanguard of this host. He swore many long and solemn oaths, then raised his mace on high. Vowing that today he would fight with nothing but this mace, even if stones rained down from the clouds. When the Khaqan heard this, he sounded the trumpet; you would think a mountain had torn loose from its place. From the beat of the war-drums, earth and sky covered the mountains and cast down the sun. He ordered the litters strapped onto the elephants' backs, and the face of the world turned dark as indigo. He came striding into the heart of the army, and from the dust the bright sun turned black. The clash of bells and Indian cymbals rang out; you would say it tore the heart from its place. So many turquoise thrones rode on the backs of elephants, glittering like the waves of the Nile. No light was left in anyone's eyes, and the soul seemed to lose all its familiar bearings. The eye and the mouth of the sky filled with dust; you would say its face was smeared with tar. When the Khan reached the center of his army, the moon lost its way in the turning sky. The right wing rose like a mountain under Kamus; they drew the baggage train toward the open plain. To the left wing went Piran, along with his brother Human and Kalbad, moving fast. When Rostam saw what the Khan had done, he set up his ground for battle in the center. Rostam said: Let us see whom the turning heaven will favor with its love. How will the sky apportion its fate, and whose time among these great men has come to an end? I had almost no rest along the road; my Rakhsh covered two stages as if they were one. Now this steed's hooves are worn and bruised, and he is spent from the long journey. I cannot drive him hard, nor charge him warlike against anyone. Just for today, help me in the fight, and win victory over these enemies. For the turning heaven of the world is our ally; the moon and the sun are our guardians. He ordered Tus to strike the war drums, and drew up the army like the eye of a rooster at dawn. The commander sounded the pipe and the brass trumpets; the roar and the wail of the horns rose up. Godarz arranged his men on the right wing, and sent the baggage train up onto the flinty mountain. Fariborz, son of Kavus, took the left wing; the whole world had become like a dense reed thicket. In the center stood Tus, son of Nozar, on his feet; the earth was filled with the cry of the war trumpet. The world vanished in the dust; not a single hero could see even himself. The mighty one climbed to the summit of the mountain to look at the Khan and the Turanian host. He saw an army so vast that beside it the sea of Rome would have looked like a single bead of wax. Men of Kashan and Shughnan, of Slavland and India, of Chaghan and Rome, of Vahr and Sind. A whole world turned red and yellow and black, each with a different armor, each with a different helmet. A different language in every corner, banners of new design and fresh provisions. With elephants, ornaments, and thrones of ivory, with armlets, crowns, torques, and diadems. The whole world was like a garden of paradise, and beside their splendor the beautiful looked ugly. On that mountaintop Rostam stood amazed, and began to think about turning back. To see how the wheel of fortune would show its face to us, what game the aged heavens would play. He came down from the mountain untroubled at heart, without passing near the army or its commander. He kept saying: since the day I first buckled on my belt, I have never sat idle in one place for a whole year. I have seen countless armies before this, but I cannot recall a host greater than this one. He gave the order and the war drums were sounded, and Tus the general threw himself into the fight. He led his men from the heights down to the plain, and out of vengeance dragged his spear through blood. By midday the army had crossed over, and the ranks stretched across two leagues of the plain. The dust of the troops swallowed all the light, so day and night became one under the sun. The air went dark with arrows and their heads, and the sun itself was left dazed in that gloom. The roar of riders and horses rose from the plain, climbing past Mars and Saturn in the sky. From the surge of horsemen and the blows of axes, even solid granite seemed to sprout wings and fly. Every blade and forearm was stained red with blood, and beneath the hooves the earth cried out in pain. The coward's heart tried to flee its own body, while the brave men cut their shrouds from their armor. The fierce lions moved out from their place, and the daring eagle spread its wings to strike. No color was left in the face of the sun; the dust seethed and boiled over mountain and stone. The hero Kamus spoke to his army like this: even if we have to storm the very sky, Bring out every sword, mace, and lasso, and close in tight to trap the Iranians. The great warrior's heart is set on war; if not, his head already lies crushed beneath a stone.

There was a bold warrior named Ashkbus who roared like a war drum. He came to seek battle from Iran, to grind an opponent's head into the dust. Rooham rushed out in helmet and armor; the dust of combat rose to the clouds. Rooham grappled with Ashkbus, and from both armies rose the sound of horns and drums. He began raining arrows on that famous man; his bow lay in ambush for the riders. The warrior was covered in steel, and the arrows struck his mail swift as the wind. The arrows had no effect on his armor, and this only made the fighter's heart fiercer. Ashkbus reached for his heavy mace; the earth turned to iron, the sky to ebony. Rooham drew out his heavy mace; the chiefs' arms grew weary from the fight. When Rooham was worn down by the man of Kashan, he turned his face away and fled toward the mountain. From the center of the army Toos grew troubled and spurred his horse to reach Ashkbus. Rostam grew angry and said to Toos: Rooham's true partner is a cup of wine. He plays the swordsman only over drinks, and struts proudly among the heroes. Why has his face gone pale as wax now? Was that rider any less than Ashkbus? You keep the center of the army in good order; I will now take the fight on foot. He slung his strung bow over his shoulder and fixed a few arrows to his belt. He shouted: You, man who tests yourself in battle, your match has come; do not turn away. The Kashani laughed and stared in wonder; he reined in his horse and called Rostam over. Laughing, he asked: What is your name? Who will weep for your headless body? Rostam answered: Why ask my name? After this you will see no more good fortune. My mother named me your death; fate made me the hammer for your helmet. The Kashani said to him: Without a mount, you hand your head over to be killed all at once. Rostam gave him this answer: You empty, quarrel seeking man, Have you never seen a man wage war on foot, and bring the heads of the proud beneath a stone? In your city do lion, crocodile, and leopard all come to battle mounted, all three? Right now, you battle rider, I will teach you how war is fought on foot. Toos sent me on foot so that I might take a horse from Ashkbus. When a Kashani ends up on foot like me, both sides of the crowd will laugh. One footman is worth more than five hundred riders like you on a day like this and in this turn of battle. The Kashani said to him: I see no weapon on you, nothing but mockery and jest. Rostam said to him: bring your arrow and bow, and see for yourself how your time runs out this very moment. When he saw how proud Ashkbus was of his fine horse, he strung his bow and drew it back. He shot a single arrow into the flank of that horse, and the animal pitched forward and crashed to the ground. Rostam laughed and called out aloud: sit down beside your precious partner. It would suit you to cradle its head in your lap and rest a while from the fight. At once Ashkbus strung his bow, his body trembling, his face pale as wax. Then he rained arrows down on Rostam. The mighty hero told him: this is all for nothing. You are only wearing yourself out, straining both your arms and your wretched, scheming soul. The champion reached to the fastening at his belt and chose a single shaft of poplar wood. An arrow with a diamond head, its point bright as water, fitted with four eagle feathers. Rostam gripped the bow and worked it in his fist, and set the poplar shaft against the string. He bent the right side left and the left side right, and a groan rose from the curve of the Chach bow. When the arrow's notch reached the width of his ear, the horn-tipped bow gave out a cry. When the point kissed the tip of his finger, it flew and passed straight through the spine of Ashkbus. It struck the chest and breast of Ashkbus; in that instant the heavens themselves kissed Rostam's hand. Fate said 'seize him,' destiny said 'deliver,' the sky cried 'bravo,' and the moon said 'well done.' The Kushan warrior gave up his life on the spot; it was as if his mother had never borne him. The two armies stood watching them, keeping their eyes on the battle of champions. Kamus and the Khaqan of China gazed on that stature and height, that strength and fury. The moment Rostam turned back, the Khaqan sent a rider galloping out. He pulled that famous arrow from the corpse, and drew it out soaked in blood right up to its feathers. The whole army passed the arrow around, and every one of them took it for a spear. When the Khaqan looked at the feathers and the head of that arrow, his young heart turned old. He said to Piran: who is this man? What is his name among the champions of Iran? You told me they were rather worthless, the lowest in rank among the proud warriors. Now their arrow is as good as a spear, and the heart of a lion falters in fighting them. You made light of every word; it turned out to be nothing like what you claimed, from start to finish. Piran said to him: among the army of Iran I know no one of this rank. An arrow that drives clean through a tree, I do not know what this ill-starred man has in his heart. Among the Iranians, Giv and Tus are true men, brave and majestic on the day of battle. My brother Human, right before Tus, turned the world dark as ebony with his fighting. I don't know who this man in Iran is, nor who among their army could match him. I will go and ask at the royal tent, so they can somehow bring out his name. He came deep in thought, his face gone pale, and questioned those famous warriors. Human the brave said this to Piran: a wise man never underestimates his enemy. The nobles of Iran are full of spirit; you would think they could tear iron apart. Now that this army has arrived from Iran, they roar in triumph from the battlefield. Piran said to him: no matter how many horsemen come from Iran to help Tus, as long as Rostam is not there, I have no fear; Gorgin and Bizhan do not tear at my heart. The army faces two hard battles ahead; let each man seek to make his own name. From there he went to Kamus, hurrying to Manshur and Fartus. He said: today a great battle was fought, and out of the sheep a wolf appeared. See what the remedy for this is, and why we suffer these wounds. Kamus said: today's fighting was such that our name has fallen into disgrace. In the battle Ashkbus was killed, and the hearts of Giv and Tus were gladdened by it. My heart split in two over that foot soldier, for our whole army was filled with dread of him. There is no man on earth of his stature; in this army there is no equal for him. You saw his bow, and the arrow is right here; in strength he surpasses a raging elephant. Surely that warlike man of Sistan, the one you kept telling me so much about, has come on foot to this battlefield; he has come to help the Iranian army. Piran said to him: that one is different, a proud horseman and a mighty champion. Then the sharp-witted man grew afraid, for his heart was bound up in that task. He asked Piran: that lion of a man, how does he move across the field of war? What mark do you have of his arm and his chest? What does he say when he faces rebels? What is his courage and his bearing like? How should I go to fight him? If it truly is he who has come by the road, then I must go out to the field of combat. Piran said to him: God forbid that he come here and think of battle. You would see a man straight as a young cypress, splendid and graced with glory to look upon. There were many battlefields where Afrasiab was left writhing before him, his eyes full of tears. He is a maker of war and devoted to his king; he is the first to reach for the sword. He fights to avenge Siavash, the child he once raised in his own arms. Many warriors have tested themselves against him, but no one can bear the weight of his weapons. If on the day of battle he throws his mace to the ground, even a mighty warrior cannot lift it again. His bowstring is made of lion hide; a single one of his arrowheads weighs ten silver coins. When he goes to war he puts on his mail and fastens a coat of armor tight upon his body. He has a garment made of leopard skin; he wears it over all and steps into the fight. It is called the babr-e bayan; he trusts it more than any quilted coat or armor. It neither burns in fire nor soaks in water; when he wears it, it is as if wings sprout from him. Beneath him rides a warhorse; you would say Mount Bisotun itself had begun to move. It strikes fire from earth and stone, and in the din of war it never rests. With such a marvel on the day of battle, it would be right not to count him as merely a man. When the shrewd Kamus heard this, he gave his eyes and ears entirely to Piran. It seems the words pleased him well; they fired up his eagerness for the fight. He said to Piran: O commander, keep your heart alert and your mind clear. Choose whatever solemn oath you wish, the kind that fortunate kings have sworn. I will swear even more than that, right here before you, so that your heart and faith may be at ease. By the power of God, of Saturn and the Sun, I will not lift my saddle from this chestnut horse's back, until I brighten your fortune and your counsel, and make the world as narrow as a needle's eye for them. Piran called down many blessings on him: O king, clear-sighted and true of tongue, with such a frame, such shoulders, such arms and such stature, no wonder you are so gifted; it does not surprise me. All our affairs will turn out as you wish; not much of our fighting remains. Then he went around the whole army, passing by every tent and pavilion. He said these words before the Khaqan of China, and spoke the same to every man. When the sun turned the world to the color of a ruby, dark night set its foot upon the sky. The bold warriors of the army gathered, those who were wise and skilled with the sword. They came to the tent of the Khaqan of China, every heart full of war and vengeance. Kamus, the lion man who unhorses his foes; and Manshur, and Fartus, the man of battle; Shamiran, Shugni, and Shangul from India; and from Saqlab, men like Kundur and the king of Sind. Each one gave his counsel for the coming battle, and everyone spoke much about Iran. After that, they all agreed on one thing: that they must wash their hands, to the last man, in blood. They each went off to rest, and slept content in their tents. When the moon's back grew thin and bent, worn down by the dark tresses of the black night, and when it drew close to the sun and set right, the sun rose, its face wet, and washed itself clean. The armies of both nations began to boil, and a roar climbed to the high heavens. The Khan of China spoke: Today's fight must not drag on and stall as yesterday's did. We must assume that Piran is gone, yet without him we cannot leave the battle untried. We have all come, one and all, ready for war; we came from a long road to give aid. If today we stall as we did yesterday, we will drag our whole name down into shame. And beyond that, tomorrow we would seek only thanks, rest, and sleep from Afrasiyab. We must all fight together as one, advancing on the enemy army like a mountain. From me you will receive gifts and Zabuli slaves, along with fine Kabuli robes. Here there are proud champions from ten lands; this is no time to sit at sleep and food. The nobles rose up from every side and made their plea to the Khan of China: Today the command over the army is yours; all the lands of China and Turan are yours. Just watch this battlefield today, where swords will rain down from a black cloud. On this side Rustam spoke to the Persians: Now the time has come. If a few of this army were killed, it was no more than one in three hundred, no more, no less. So do not, any of you, let your hearts grow heavy; I will not keep my body alive without honor and name. The whole Turkish army, after Ashkabus, marched off with faces pale as amber. Now fill your hearts, every one, with vengeance; wrinkle your warlike brows into a scowl. For today I have shod Rakhsh with iron, and I mean to dye the sword's edge red with blood. Prepare yourselves, for today is a new day; the whole earth, from end to end, is Kai Khosrow's treasure. Gird your waists, for from this battle you will all win crowns and earrings. The nobles called out their blessings on him: Through you the crown and the signet ring shine bright.

Rustam put on his battle armor and rode to the field, ready for war. Beneath the mail he wore a coat of armor, and over that a tiger-skin battle vest. He set the heavy helmet on his head, and made his enemy think of death. Trusting in God's power, he tightened his belt and mounted Rakhsh like a raging elephant. The sky was dazzled by his height, and the ground grew dark under Rakhsh's hooves. From both armies rose the sound of horns and drums; the earth turned to iron, the heavens to ebony. The world shook, plain and mountain trembled, and the ground was worn out by the horses' hooves. On the right wing stood Kamus, with mighty elephants and the baggage train behind him. On the left wing stood the commander of India's army, armored, with sword and Indian steel blade. At the center was the place of the Khan of China; the sky grew dim and the earth quaked. On our side Faribarz held the left wing, shining like the sun rising in the sign of the Ram. On the right stood the son of Keshvad, his shoulders all sheathed in steel. At the center stood Tus, son of Nozar, with kettledrums and trumpets before the army. Smoke and fire rose even from the water; no one could dream of a battle so fierce. A roar went up from every side of the army, so loud it split the ears of the elephants. The first to enter the space between the ranks came with froth of heart's blood on his lips. It was the proud commander Kamus, with his army, his elephants, and his war drums. He roared like a raging elephant, an ox-headed mace in his hand. He cried: Where is that warrior on foot who challenged such famous champions to battle? If he comes now to the field, no place will be left safe from his arrows. The brave champions had seen him: proud Tus, Rahham, and Giv. None of them wished to fight him; the space stayed empty of Iran's champions. For no one had the strength to fight him; beside him the brave were deer and he a leopard. There was a man of Zabol named Alva, who quickly drew his sword of vengeance from its sheath. He always carried Rustam's spear and never left his side. He had toiled hard at the work of the reins, and learned the mace, the arrow, and the lance. Through toil and hardship his heart was seared, and he had learned skills from Rustam himself. Rustam said to him: Stay alert, be sharp against this Turk in combat. Do not drown in the flood of your own skills; keep your footing firm in place. You are like a drop cast into the deep sea; this challenge looks like madness. Alva set out toward Kamus, seeking to battle him. They laid out a great field of combat; the man of Kushan came on like a wolf. He struck with his spear, lifted Alva from the saddle, and cast him easily to the ground. He pulled hard on the reins and trampled him beneath his hooves until he stained the dust red. Rustam grieved for Alva, and loosed the coiling lasso from his saddle strap. Whenever he meant to fight great chiefs, he carried a lasso and a heavy mace. He came roaring like a raging elephant, a lasso on his arm and a mace in his hand. Kamus said to him: Do not boast so much of the strength of these sixty coils of rope. Rustam answered: The lion roars boldly when it sees its prey. First you girded yourself for this feud and killed a famous man of Iran. Now you call my lasso a mere rope; you will soon feel its tightening bonds. Fate will drive you out of Kushan; you will find no patch of earth left as your home here. Kamus spurred his warhorse and saw his opponent, ready and armed. He swung his flashing steel blade, meaning to cut the head from his body. The blade's edge struck Rakhsh's neck and sliced through the horse's armor. But no harm came to Rakhsh's body; the giant-bodied hero coiled his lasso into a loop. He hurled it and dropped it over Kamus, then urged his fierce steed onward. He set himself in the saddle and pulled hard; Rakhsh became an eagle with wings spread. From daring the rider pressed his thighs; the stirrups grew heavy, the reins light. Kamus tried to snap that raw coil of the lasso apart by force and break free. Kamus fainted, yet the rope did not break; the giant-bodied hero reined Rakhsh in. He turned the reins, dragged Kamus from the saddle, threw him headlong, and dashed him to the ground. He came and bound him in the coils of the lasso, saying: Now you have been made harmless. Trickery and sorcery are gone from you; your soul has become a slave to the demon. All your days of feud have ended; you will never see the land of Kushan or China again. You imagined that in the hour of battle no one could grip a dagger as you could. Let no proud man seek revenge, for very soon he sees both the low and the high of fortune. He bound both hands behind his back tight as stone, and gripped the coils of the lasso. He came striding to the army of Iran, the vengeful captive tucked under his arm. He said to the champions: This warrior came at me with so much strength and hatred. Such is the way of this house of deceit: now on the height, now in the depths. He came to Iran meaning to lay it waste, to turn it into a lair of leopards and lions. He swore that in Zabolestan and Kabolestan no palace and no rose garden would be left. He would not lay down his club from his hand until he had destroyed Rustam, son of Zal. Now his helmet and armor have become his shroud; his crown is dust and his shirt is dust. What is your judgment on killing him, now that warlike Kamus has fallen? He flung him to the dust before the chiefs, and the champions came out from the army. They cut his body to pieces with their swords; the stone and earth beneath him were drowned in blood. Do not put too much faith in your own manhood, for the hand of time reaches far over you. So ended the battle of Kamus the brave; whoever escaped with his life carried it away.