Section 14: Rostam and Kamus

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.