Tale of the Khaqan of China

Now, wise one with a bright soul, let your tongue speak of nothing but the name of God. For He is the guide through good and evil, and by Him the turning heavens hold their place. Your days are passing you by; your true resting place is a home other than this one. If you agree with what is told here, the tale the old storyteller passes down from ancient times. After that, word reached the Khan of China that Kamus had been killed on the field of vengeance. For the men of Kashan, Sughd, and the warriors of Balkh, the day turned dark and bitter over Kamus. They all turned to one another, asking who this skilled and battle hungry man was. What kind of man is he, and what is his name? Who in the world could stand against him in combat? Human said to the lion hearted Piran: today my soul has grown sick of battle. How can our brave men still raise their fists, now that the mighty Kamus has fallen in the fight? There was no warrior in the world like him, no rider stronger of body than he. A champion like Kamus, who could bind an elephant on the battlefield with the loop of his lasso. On the day of war it would suit him to seize an elephant's head, lift it, and dash it to the ground. The whole army came before the Khan, grieving and weeping over Kamus. They said: you heard and saw for yourself, before the army, the beginning and the end of this battle. Now seek a remedy for our plight, keep it to yourself, and tell no one. Look among the army's scouts for someone who can quietly gather word. Let him find out who this lion hearted man is, and who among this army could match him in combat. After that we will give ourselves wholly to the fight, and stake head and body on the battlefield. The Khan of China said to Piran: this is exactly the source of my grief and sorrow. That we must learn who in that army does such harm, one who can catch an elephant in his looping lasso. Along with the truth that there is no escape from one's own death, no room for pleading, questioning, or force. We were all born from our mothers only to die; against our will we bowed our necks to death. No one escapes the turning of the sky, even if on earth he could tear an elephant apart. Do not grieve your hearts over him, that he was killed beneath the coil of a lasso. The one by whose hand Kamus perished, I will drag down to the dust in the bonds of my lasso. I will turn all the land of Iran into a flowing river of ruin, to satisfy the heart of King Afrasiab. He gathered many famous champions from the army, wielders of daggers and men of true valor. He said: this war fighting man of the arrow, a horseman who throws the lasso and seizes warriors. We must find out where his position is, on the left flank of the army or on the right. Learn his city and his name, and after that we will arrange his end. A proud, king serving horseman came forward and set his hand to this task. His name was Chang, and he was a seeker, bold and diligent in every undertaking. He said to the Khan: O exalted one, may the world bow in need before your love. If he is a lion of war, I will take his life at the moment I turn my head toward Iran. I will fight him alone, hand to hand, and bring his whole name down to disgrace. First I will seek revenge on him for Kamus, then after his death I will bring back his true name. The Khan of China blessed him, and Chang kissed the ground before him. He said: if you bring back this vengeance, and return to me with your head held high and unbowed. I will give you so many jewels from my treasury that you will never need to toil again.

Changesh spurred his horse across that plain, riding on like a burst of sacred fire. When he came near the Iranians for battle, he drew a sharp arrow from his quiver. He said: This is my battleground, and the heads of your champions are in my grip. Where has that man gone who captured Kamus, who threw the lasso one moment and shot arrows the next? If he comes now to the field of combat, I will not let him return to his army. Rostam stirred from his place with his mace, and at once set Rakhsh in motion. He said: I am the lion-slayer, the taker of heroes, who throws the lasso one moment and shoots arrows the next. Right now, like the warrior Kamus, you too must swallow dust before my eyes. Changesh asked him: What is your name? What is your lineage, and what do you want? So that on the day of battle I may know whose blood I spilled once the dust settled. Rostam said: You wretch of ill fortune, may that tree you sprang from never bloom again. How could such a garden ever bear fruit like you, or count fruit as worthless as you among its yield? The tip of my spear and my very name are your death; you must give up all hope for your head. At once Changesh came like the wind and set both notches of his bow against the string. The bow of that cruel man was like a storm cloud; he faced his enemy in coat of mail and armor. When Rostam saw the arrow would pierce his mail, he raised his shield over his head. He said: Wait, bold rider, for now your head will grow sick of war. Changesh looked upon that mountain of a man, tall as a straight cypress rising from a meadow. Beneath him the horse was like a slab of mountain, never wearied though it carried such a load. Changesh said to himself: To flee now is better than to fight against my own life. He drove that burden-bearing horse from its place and turned his mind toward his own army. Like fire, the brave rider Rostam spurred Rakhsh in pursuit of the champion. At that instant Rostam reached him, and the whole plain filled with talk of them. He seized the tail of Changesh's filthy horse, and both armies watched in astonishment. He held it awhile until the beast grew spent and, from that height, threw itself to the ground. The helmet fell from Changesh and he begged for mercy; but Rostam laid him level with the earth. At once he cut his head from his body, and all his hopes and schemes came to nothing. All the champions of the land of Iran raised their praise upon the hero. Rostam stood between the two ranks, a gleaming spear held ready in his hand. On the other side the Khaqan grew heavy with grief and raged against the turning of fate and the wheel of heaven. The Khaqan of China said to Human: Time and the earth have closed in tight around us. You should go and learn that famous champion's name, seek him out, and send him a message. Human replied: I am no anvil, nor am I a tusked war-elephant on the battlefield. In all the world there was no warrior like Kamus, none so eager for battle and so unyielding. Yet this rider caught him in the coil of his lasso; do not think this hero a trifling thing. I will go and see what the Creator of the world wills, who shall be victorious on this field of vengeance.

He rushed into his tent like the wind and set a different helmet on his head. He chose a new banner and a new horse, a different suit of armor and a different shield. He rode out, and when he drew near Rustam, he paused to take in his powerful shoulders and towering frame. He spoke to Rustam: 'You famous one, master of the lasso, brave and battle-hardened rider, I swear by God, I would give up throne and crown, for I have never seen a warrior who craves combat as you do. In all this great army, apart from you I see no mighty champion of renown. A brave man who seeks battle again and again stirs up dust from the very heart of a lion. Tell me of your city, your lineage, and your home, of your bloodline and your name. In the whole Iranian army I have seen no one but you with the heart for the field of war. I feel a fondness for a man of battle, especially one with the nature of a leopard. Now, if you would tell me your name, your land, your people, and your home, you would do me a favor that empties my heart of its worry.' Rustam answered him: 'All these words you have spoken, laying a foundation of affection, why won't you tell me your own name, your land, your country, your home? Why have you come to me with such softness, sweet talk, and endless words? If you are seeking peace, you are trying to lessen this feud. Consider who spilled the blood of Siyavash, who kindled such a fire of vengeance against us, and the precious blood of the House of Gudarz, which piled loss upon loss. The nobles who stood with Siyavash never sought a fight; they held their peace. Look through the army of Turan and find those guilty of an innocent man's blood. The men and the well-outfitted horses that Siyavash brought from Iran with his treasure, if you send them all back to us, I will have no need to fight the Turks. After that you will all be my well-wishers, wholly bound to my ways and my path. I will lay aside vengeance and seek no more battle; I will not bring proud heads down into the dust. Then I will tell all this to Kay Khosrow and wash his heart and mind clean of pain and spite. Now I will name the guilty for you, men whose names and desires deserve to be gone. The vengeance began first with Garsivaz, who brought this heartache and torment to Iran. And whomever you know of that blind, cursed stock, who needlessly muddied these clear waters, Gorui Zereh and all born of him, a bloodline that should never have existed, for the wrong done to Siyavash came from them; he was the key that opened this door of evil.' The one who wrecked the heart and mind of Afrasiyab, who spilled his blood like water. And another who had no quarrel with any Iranian, yet became the pivot of this feud. The nobles who spring from the seed of Visa are two faced, treacherous with everyone. Men like Human, Lahhak, and Farshidvard, like Kalbad and that brazen Nastihan. If you carry out what I have said, and put an end to seeking vengeance, I will shut the door of war upon your land; you will not need to wear armor on your body. But if you speak in any other way, I will revive the fight and the old blood feud. For I am one hardened by the wars of Turan; I am a famed warrior out of Iran. I have severed many a head from its body, heads whose only shroud was the jaws of lions. You have tested me on this field of battle; this is my custom, this is my way. I have never spoken in such a tone before; I have sought nothing but vengeance, root and branch. Now heed everything I have told you; take these good words to your heart. When Human heard this he was gripped with fear; he trembled like a leaf on a tree. For hearing Rustam speak in that manner, he saw his whole clan marked for ruin. Human answered him this way: 'O lionhearted, battle seeking man, With such strength and such stature and height, the throne of Iran would suit you as your seat. You can be nothing less than a great champion, or a mighty hero out of Iran. You asked me about my lineage and name; but your true wish, I feel, lies elsewhere. My name, brave one, is Kuh-Gush; my father is Vasapas, a man like a lion. I came here from Vahr with this army, a whole host I led to this battlefield. I keep asking for your name so that I may make your purpose known in the world. Now if you tell me your name, I will go back to my rest with a glad heart. Everything you said on this battlefield I will repeat, point by point, before the army, and likewise before Manshur and the Khaqan of China, the nobles and heroes of the land of Turan.' Rustam said to him: 'Do not seek my name; whatever you have seen of me, tell them. My heart burns for Piran; my soul kindles with love for him. His liver is wounded over the blood of Siyavash; among the Turks he alone is noble and calm. Send him to me at once, in haste; let us see what fate will bring.' Human said to him: 'O proud one, so you feel the need to see Piran. What do you know of Piran and Kalbad, of Goruy-e Zereh and Pulad?' He told him: why twist your words so much? Don't try to send the stream uphill. Don't you see that the whole battle of this army rests on him alone, and from him this fight has come? Human rushed off at once, his face pale, breathing hard as he arrived. He said to Piran: my fortunate lord, a hard misfortune has fallen on us from this affair. For this lion-hearted man is Rustam of Zabol, and now we must weep for this army. For never can stand against him in battle the leopard on land or the crocodile in the sea. I spoke and heard many answers back; he recalled the wrongs done by everyone. First, brother, he named my name, and recounted much about the blood of Siyavush. He recalled much of what has passed, of Piran and the champions of the Vise line. Of Bahram and of the whole clan of Gudarz, of everyone who suffered harm at their hands. I saw no affection in him for anyone but you; he spoke a great deal, but his face never softened. Now, from this army, it is you he wants; I don't know what he has set in his heart. Go and look at him, spear in hand, as though he sits perched upon a mountain. In armor and helmet and tiger-skin coat, and beneath him a raging, monstrous elephant. You will see I sought no lie in this; his blade catches fire and blazes with light. Until he sees you, he will not stir from his place; for your sake he has stayed there, standing ready. When you meet him, speak gently to him; don't draw your blade, don't show him your defiance. Piran said to him: my warrior friend, I fear an evil day is drawing near. If indeed this sword-wielder is Rustam, then this plain is a place of mourning for us. He will burn our land and home in fire; I don't know what our ill-starred fate has done. He went before the Khaqan, his eyes full of tears, his liver wounded, his heart full of pain and rage. He said: my king, do not be rash, for now this matter has taken a different turn. When the champion Kamus met his end, at that very moment my heart suspected that this man of iron is Rustam, whose rawhide lasso coils in fold upon fold. Even if Afrasiab came now like a flood, they would see nothing but the dread of him in their dreams. The very demons grow weary of fighting him; whether one man against him or a whole plain of men, it's the same. For a long time he was a great lord in Zabolestan; back then he was the guardian of Siyavush. Like a father he wages war with grief, and makes the world too narrow for any ruler. I will go and see what he wants, for grief keeps wearing my soul away. The Khaqan said to him: go to him, and speak gently, as you must. If he wants peace and a settlement, then why should this plain endure the suffering of an army? Accept plenty of gifts and turn back; it is fitting that we not seek all this battle. But if beneath his leopard-skin armor his mind is still set on war, then let us all wage war together and press the field of battle tight against him. Let us all turn our backs to God for support, and by His strength fight like lions. His body is not made of iron, nor his face of steel; he is nothing but blood and flesh and hair. He does not fight up in the sky, so why let your heart burn with grief and pain? Know this: though he can withstand stone and iron, still the arrow and the javelin will pierce him. For every one of their men we have three hundred; on this battlefield it is their turn to suffer. This same famous man from Zabol is no more than a single elephant in the hour of war. I will put on such an elephant's display against him that afterward he will not dare face battle again.

Piran rode on, full of grief and fear; what Rostam had done split his heart in two. He came near the army of Iran and cried out: 'You there, great warrior who seeks battle!' 'I heard that out of this countless host you called for me when the fighting began.' 'I have stepped out from before that gathering to this one. Now tell me, what do you want from me?' Rostam said to him: 'What is your name? What purpose and desire brings you here?' He answered: 'I am Piran, the commander of these lion catching warriors.' 'You asked for me from Human, son of Viseh, and dressed your words in courtesy.' 'My heart grew eager to know: among the chiefs, which of the battle heroes are you?' He said: 'I am Rostam of Zabol, clad in mail, bearing a Kabuli dagger.' When Piran heard this, he came out from before the army toward the vengeful Rostam. Rostam said to him: 'O champion, may the bright sun greet your living spirit, and greetings from your mother too, Afrasiab's daughter, who always sees your love in her dreams.' Piran said to him: 'O mighty one, greetings to you from God and from all this gathering. May the Giver of good bless you; may the turning heavens pass beneath your seal. Thanks to God, and to Him I turn for refuge, for I have seen you alive and in your place. And Zavareh, Faramarz, and Zal the rider, who remains as a keepsake of the kings, all sound, glad of heart, and proud; may the world never lack their like.' 'If it will not weigh on you, let me speak: a lesser man may voice his complaint to the great. I planted a tree in my garden, but its fruit came out bitter as colocynth and its leaves like blood. With my own eyes I watered it through hardship; my life and treasure were bound up in it. From it only suffering has been my portion, for what promised remedy bore poison instead. Siavash treated me like a father, and stood before me as a shield against every harm. How much pain, hardship, and grief I bore from that king and from his court. My witness in this world is God; the seeking of a witness belongs to the just. Now much time has passed, and I have heard the counsel of many a teacher. Yet the mourning has never left my house; fire still burns up from my very soul. I weep blood instead of tears, and forever I am in the hands of physicians. From this affair only injury has come to me; the high wheel of heaven never turned as I wished. I feel no shame before the dark night and my own eyes for how much hot blood I have wept. When I learned what happened to Siavash, I withdrew my hand from both good and evil.' Caught between two lands and two proud kings, see how I am scorned, wretched, and heartsick. I saved Farangis with my own life, when her father's time had come to end her. I kept her hidden in my house; I never once turned my back on her. In return he demands my very life; he wants the head of one he suspects. I am full of pain, warrior, from both sides, my mind burning with the talk of both camps. There is no way to flee from Afrasiab, and nowhere else I can find rest or sleep. My wealth, my land, my herds are here; I see no possible road to leave. I have a son and many women veiled at home, so wounded and bound to everyone's whim. If Afrasiab orders war, sleep will never touch my eyes again. Unwilling, I must lead the army out; no one can rest and defy his command. Now I deserve some mercy, yet marshaling the troops is my duty. If my heart weren't already heavy with grief, from this line only Pilsam has been killed, and, besides him, a few brave young men who grew sick of life in the fighting. From here on I fear for my own life too; how long can I speak of children and goods? By the Victorious God I swear to you, warrior, that I mean no harm against your soul, you will find no hidden malice from my kin, for I hold the Creator of the world in awe. By the bright soul of Siavash I swear that death is sweeter to me than armor, sword, and helmet. If this whole host goes to war, you will see the slain heaped as high as a mountain. From Kashan, Saqlab, Shughnan, and India, from this frontier to the shore of the Sindh sea, over the blood of Siavash, all these innocents, an army has been dragged to this battlefield. Peace would serve you better than war; you should not push this matter to such a tight corner. Consider what you think best, for you are wiser, and stronger when brave men come to fight. When Rustam heard Piran's words, he did not answer to please him at heart. He told him: since I came to this battlefield, I have girded myself alongside the king's brave men, I have seen nothing but honesty from you; from all the Turks you sought only what is right. Even the leopard knows that strife and war are not good; even mountain and stone know it. When the feud is over the heads of kings, it ends in a rain of arrows. Now there are two roads here to peace; see which of them suits you best. The first: everyone who, over the king's blood, spread this pointless battlefield, you send them in chains to our king; then it is fitting he not command this war. It is right that the one guilty of an innocent man's blood should not be present on this battlefield. And another thing: buckle on your belt with me and come to the victorious king. Whatever you would leave behind here, however precious you consider it, from the king you will receive ten for each one; do not think of your home in the Turanian army. In his heart Piran said: the matter runs deep, to leave Turan and go before that king. And besides, when he seeks out the guilty, he washes his heart clean of the innocent. The nobles and kinsmen of Afrasiyab, who hold treasure and thrones, rank and honor, how could I speak a word of this to them? This wish has neither head nor foot. Men like Human, Kolbad, and Farshidvard, from whom Godarz suffers such pain, all fall into this reckoning, and there is no way around it; for such glory there is no rival in the world. I must find my own remedy; I must take up the search for a path forward. Piran said to him: O champion, may you always be young and bright of soul. I will go and repeat all this to the chieftains, to Manshur and Shangol and the Khaqan of China. I will send a swift courier to Afrasiyab; I will speak so as to rouse his mind from its sleep. From there he went to the army like the wind, to those who were of the Vise lineage. He gathered an assembly and revealed the secret; he said: the ups and downs of fate have come upon us. Know that this lionheart is Rostam, world conqueror, of the line of Nariman. With him are the great men and lions of Zabulistan, all the famous champions of Kabulistan. When such a man leads with vengeance in his heart, no horsemen on earth can stand against him. Even Godarz son of Keshvad, and Giv and Tus, would fight him only reluctantly, with regret. He seeks out only the guilty among the Turks; he holds his hand back from the innocent. For whoever he knows to be blameless here, the king's heart holds no grief against him. Consider this: this land will be ruined and left to the will of Iran's bold warriors. Neither old nor young will remain here, nor the king, nor treasure, army, throne, or crown. I kept telling this wretched tyrant: do not fuel the fire and wind so recklessly, for one day you will suddenly be burned, your wisdom scorched and your heart's eye sewn shut. That cruel one obeyed neither my command nor the counsel of this famous assembly. He tore these worthy men from their places and took no counsel with the brave and the wise. You will see that neither king nor crown will remain, nor the war elephants, nor this ivory throne. Through him the king of Iran grew glad of heart, while grief and sorrow fell to the brave warriors here. What a pity for those brave men and such a mighty army, men of glory and stature, crown and throne. From now on you will see them all plundered; no one will return happy from the battlefield. The horses' hooves will trample us, and the water of this waking fortune will turn bitter. My heart burns for Human; my soul flares up in grief for Ruyin. Rustam's heart is packed with hatred for him; his brows are entirely furrowed against him. Full of sorrow I will go to the Khan of China and tell him what this feud has brought upon us. He came to the Khan like a whirlwind, his face streaked with blood, his eyes weeping pale tears. He found the royal tent filled with wailing, and tulips of the slain reddened over the saffron ground. Several soldiers from among Kamus's kin had come before the Khan to seek justice. Everyone was saying that Afrasiab will never again see greatness even in his dreams. Why did he start a feud when he has no man fit to make ready for the day of battle? Let us take the army of Kushan toward China, all of us with eyes full of tears and hearts full of vengeance. Let us bring troops from China and Berber to avenge Kamus. From Bazgush, Segsar, and Mazandaran let us summon men with heavy maces. Perhaps then we can set Sistan ablaze and make life bitter for them night and day. Let us hang the head of Rustam of Zabol on the gallows in mourning for that famous man. Let us burn his body and scatter its ashes as dust upon his own doorway. If Afrasiab truly seeks vengeance, he must find neither rest nor sleep. Each grieved for his own kin and shed pale tears upon their rosy cheeks. When Piran heard this his heart was dazed; at their cries his face went dark. He said to himself: O wretched and helpless people, so full of pain, worry, and grief, you surely have no idea that here your time has run out. A sea dragon has come to battle, whose armor is the hide of a leopard. He went to the Khan and said: This short war of ours has grown long. From every land these renowned chiefs, from every quarter each famous lord, he brought them all, and all this toil went to the wind; how can justice ever rise from an unjust cause? The head of the land's king came to this fate: Siyavash was slain by his hand. By the command of foolish Garsivaz, no one should ever surrender the dragon's head. Siyavash was a noble world ruler, and Rustam of Zabol had been his foster father. Whenever Rustam went to war and vengeance, he brought the very sky crashing down to earth. Neither a leopard's claws nor an elephant's trunk, neither a towering mountain nor the Nile itself can stop him. He alone is enough on the battlefield, for when he attacks he confronts a whole army. He rides a horse called Rakhsh beneath him, so mighty that you'd think Mount Bisotun was moving. This is no day to count as ordinary, for everyone has felt the force of his hand. A fire came down from the dark blue sky, and our hearts are choked with smoke from its heat. Now summon all the sharp minded wise men, the priests and the elders, to counsel together. Let us see what remedy there is, and who among us is the man to fight on this field. We need a sound plan; we should never have sought this feud from the start. Perhaps we can escape this disaster and return to our own land, even if our fortune grows thin. The Khan of China grew heavy with grief at Piran's words and called often on the Creator of the world. He said to him: what course is left to us, now that so warlike an army has come? Shangol spoke up: O proud one, why draw out these words at such length? We came to aid Afrasiab; we crossed plain and sea and water to get here. We received many mounts and many gifts, and hurried eagerly from every land. Because of one man from Sistan who came to fight, why has the situation grown so tight for you? It is a shame even to speak of a single man; we must lay our foundation differently. If brave Kamus met his fated hour at his hands, that is no reason to lose heart. At dawn we will raise our maces and sweep every head clean off this plain. We will make the air like a spring cloud and rain down arrows upon them. From the dust of the horsemen and the blows of axes, no one will be able to tell his head from his feet. Fix all your eyes on me; when I roar, charge in and strike. Surely our warriors, brave riders, number far more than a hundred thousand. Yet because of one man we have grown this wretched and writhing, all left lifeless without even being killed. Consider him a raging war elephant that can seize a lion with its hand on the field. I will show him such an elephant's game that afterward he will not dare turn his face toward battle. When the army heard Shangol's words, the hearts of aged men grew young again. Piran said to him: may you live forever; may your soul be well provisioned for the fight. All the famous chiefs and the Khan of China gave their blessing to the king of India. When Piran came to the royal tent, the noble Turks rose from their places, men like Human, Nastihan, and Barman, who bore either sword or lance. Human asked Piran to explain what the talks had finally come to. Were they laying the ground for peace, or would army seek the feud of army against army? Piran told Human what Shangul had said: that the troops had joined him, ready for battle. Human grew deeply troubled by that news, and turned in anger on ill fated Shangul. He said to Piran: there is no escaping heaven's will, whatever turn the times may take. He came before Kalbad and said: has Shangul lost all touch with reason? We must step aside a moment from all this and weigh what is gain and what is loss. You will see that from this boundless army, world conquering, armed with heavy maces, two thirds will lie beneath the earth, their armor and helmets washed in blood as their shrouds. Kalbad said to him: swordsman, as long as you can, do not utter such grim omens. Do not fill your whole being with grief; perhaps things will turn out other than you fear. Over a thing not yet come to pass, it is fitting not to sink your heart in sorrow or gloom. On the other side, Rostam summoned the champions and spoke to them of pressing matters. There were Tus and Gudarz and Rahham and Giv, Fariborz and Gostaham and brave Khorrad. And Gorgin, the seasoned horseman, and Bizhan, who blazes in the heat of battle. The mighty one spoke thus to the wise, the prudent and clear hearted priests: The one whom God makes fortunate is the one truly worthy of the crown and throne. He conquers the world and wins in war, but he must not think the strength is his own. Our strength comes from God; who are we? What are we, gathered on this dark dust? We must banish all thought of doing evil; the path of God and of wisdom is what we need. For the world stays with no one forever; one should not rejoice in it too much. What we need is humanity and honesty; from crookedness come only loss and lack. When Piran came before me in haste, he spoke a while with a grieving heart. Of the kindness he showed Siavash, and of the sorrows and pains that fell upon him. Farangis and Kay Khosrow were saved from the dragon's jaws by his words and his deeds. Yet in my heart I know for certain that Piran would be the first to be slain in this vengeance. His brother and his son would fall before him, and many of his renowned noble kin. At Kay Khosrow's hand Afrasiab would be killed: this I have seen in a dream. Not one of the guilty would remain alive; all would lie slain and trampled underfoot. But I do not wish this old man to be killed by my hand before the assembly. For his only craft is honesty; no thought of evil can find a path to his heart. If he takes back what he once said, then the past wrongs should be forgotten. Let the guilty one, with all he owns, hand them over to us; no more grudge need grow. After that I have no reason to fight; there is no better work in the world than honesty. And if these famous men, with their throne and their elephants, an army as vast as the Nile, send their crown and treasure over to us, we will bear them no more suffering after this. We do not measure the world by killing; the giver of good has shown no such road. The world is full of treasure, full of crowns and thrones; it should not all be for one lucky man. When Gudarz heard this, he rose to his feet and said: noble and upright chief, you are the pillar of the army, the ornament of the throne; through you the king, the throne, and the crown shine bright. Your foundation is clear wisdom; your soul draws its harvest from that wisdom. Peace is surely better than war, but take care: your ox is still inside its hide. Let me tell you a tale; now listen to a saying from the old days, that from honesty the souls of evil men flee, like the heavens shrinking from a heavy load. If a cornered man makes a pact, he will still strive to break that faith. Since the world's Creator made him crooked, do not listen to his words, do not trust in his straightness. When we first set up the battlefield, talk of this matter came up and we settled it. A messenger came from Piran, saying: I am sick of this plain, of hardship and hatred; for I keep my eyes forever full of tears at the words and deeds of Afrasiab. I have bound my waist to serve the king; I no longer want land, home, or royal tent. He heard much counsel and advice, then said: after this, war will be no companion of mine. He said: I will go and arrange this quickly; I will tell my kin what has happened to us. I have a throne, a treasure, and cattle; I will lead my people to a fitting place. When he said this, we told him: your plan is fair; in Turan the throne, treasure, and comfort are yours. Take some corner of the land, so that near the king your guilt stays hidden. So we said, and Piran turned back on this, and in the dark night became the demon's partner again. He sent a swift camel-rider to the king: array your forces, for the army is coming. You would think he had never spoken those words to us; there was neither head nor tail to that matter, ever. Now, O commander of the army, he has set yet another trick along the road for you. He knows nothing but deceit and scheming, while he keeps scattering words of wisdom. Now he has grown afraid of your lasso; small wonder that fear has driven him into hiding. Their whole strength rested on Kamus; their commander was as brave as Sagsar and as splendid as Tus. When he saw Kamus's fortune overturned, slain in the coil of a lasso, now he seeks peace; he no longer dares to camp out on the open plain. When he knows the slope has grown steep against him, he resorts to tricks, cunning, and deceit. He claims: I will bring the guilty forward, dressed up with treasure and riches. You will see, when the war drums thunder, how commander Tus rushes into battle. Pit Piran will be out in front, launching fresh attack after fresh attack. All that he says is nothing but lies; only a demon could be his fitting partner. If you would hear my counsel through to the end, look at what he did to my son Bahram: with that same scheme he lulled the army and then made a graveyard of the sons of Gudarz. As long as I live, my blood is my tears, and an Indian blade is my only physician. When Rostam heard this, he said to Gudarz: may your words be joined with wisdom. Piran is indeed like this, and it is no secret that he does not share our voice either. Yet because of his good deeds I do not seek vengeance or a fight with him. Consider what he did for the king of Iran, and how he grieved over Siyavosh's fate. If he goes back on his own word and comes to us ready for war, I keep the lasso tied to my saddle straps, the one with which I bind down a raging elephant. I will begin first with good faith; one should not go looking for war and combat. But if he takes back his word, then he will see from us his own pain and grief. Gudarz and Tus blessed him: may the sun never mock you. Before you, tricks, cunning, and lies, all of Piran's speeches, lose their shine. May this world never be without a crowned king, and may you always stand before him at the place of honor. Rostam said: the night has grown dark, and our minds are dazed from all this talk. Let us rest and drink wine until midnight, and spend the other half caring for the army. Let us see what the Maker of the world keeps hidden behind what is plain to us. He told the Iranians: tonight, over wine, I will read a lucky star that promises well, so that tomorrow I will lift this mace of Sam the rider onto my shoulder and wage war. From here I will ride into battle in such a way, to the very place where the crocodile holds its ground. The royal pavilion, the crown, the treasure and the diadem, the mighty war elephants and the ivory throne, all of it. I will bring them and hand them over to the Iranians, if I gird myself for the assault. A great cry rose from the gathering, from those famous men devoted to the king. They went back to their own tents, longing now for sleep and rest. When the sun put on its shining crown, and the moon's face saw that silver shield, the moon grew afraid of all that talk, slipped low and hid its face. The war drums sounded from Tus's court; the ground turned black as ebony from the horses' dust. The earth went indigo, the air was full of dust, and Rostam put on his battle armor. On the right wing stood the son of Keshvad, clad in his mail and holding his steel mace. Fariborz took his place on the left, washing every hero's heart clean for the coming fight. In the center stood Tus, son of Nowzar, on his feet; by then there was no bare ground left. Rostam came before the army to guard the champions against the enemy. On the other side, the Khaqan stood in the center, so many elephants that the ground looked like Mount Bisotun. On their right wing was Kondor the Lion-catcher, a bold rider skilled with sword and arrow. On the left was Gahar, seasoned in war; the earth lay pressed beneath his horse's hooves. Piran kept ranging before the army, and came up to Shengol, eager for battle. He said to him, 'You, famed lord of India, from Barbar to Sind all obeys your command, you told me that tomorrow at dawn you would lead the army into battle from every side, and after that you would seek combat with Rostam and drag his head down from the clouds into the dust.' Shengol answered, 'I will not go back on my word; you will see me neither shrink nor waver.' 'Right now I will go up against this fierce warrior and tear his body to pieces with my arrows.' 'I will take revenge for Kamus from him in battle, and press the Iranians hard.' Then at once he split the army into three parts, struck the war drums, and dust rose from the plain. One division marched out with the massive elephants; the ranks of troops stretched two miles long. The chief elephant-drivers were richly adorned, all decked out with crowns and earrings. Their necks graced with golden collars, their waists bound with belts of gold. Chinese brocade hung down from the elephants, with thrones and golden howdahs set upon them. The wailing of the trumpets rose up, and the war elephants set out from their place. Thirty thousand proud, spear-bearing riders came toward the left wing. Toward the right wing came thirty thousand more, taking up their bows and Chinese shields. In the center were the elephants and the Khaqan of China, sweeping across the face of the earth. The whole world had turned to iron with armor; everywhere lay heaps of the slain. From the endless wail of flutes and clang of bells, earth and sky seemed shaken from their places. From the surge of horsemen and the chaos of battle, the air was a net of vulture feathers thick with flying arrows. No one on that plain kept his wits; the pounding of war drums left every ear deaf. Shangol moved between the two ranks, an Indian blade held in his fist. An Indian canopy raised above his head; many men from Dambar, Marv, and Mai marched with him. Behind him, on his left and on his right, he threw them into the fight wherever he pleased. When Piran saw this, his heart grew glad; he set his mind at ease about facing the mighty Rostam. He said to Human: today fate will turn the work just as our hearts desire. With such array and so many bold riders, each one proud and fierce as a lion. Today do not stand at the front of the ranks; for a day or two, do not press for battle. Stay behind the Khaqan of China; who would know you among two hundred horsemen? For if the man of Zabol with his black banner should catch sight of you, all will go to ruin. Let us wait and see how our fortune turns, what game our watchful luck will play.

From there he went to the gathering, to the place where the mighty champion's shadow fell. He dismounted and offered praise again and again: 'May the high heavens draw their strength from you.' 'May your day never sink into decline; may no terror ever reach your face.' 'May the heart of Iran's king be glad because of you; may everything you do be just.' 'I left your presence, O champion, and delivered your message to old and young alike.' 'I recounted all your feats, whatever they were, though who in this world could ever praise you enough?' 'I spoke of both peace and war, weighing every angle without delay.' 'In the end they said: how shall we do this, so that we may set aside all grudge against him?' 'We can give treasure, gold, and goods, all that he wants, laid out before him.' 'But we cannot hand the guilty man over to him; think again and search out these secrets.' 'The only guilty one is Afrasiab himself, so know this and do not rush your words.' 'Everyone he demands from us is a chieftain, great men with throne and crown.' 'An army has come like this from China, from Saqlab and Khotan and the land of Turan.' 'How could Afrasiab want peace, when so vast an army has come by land and water?' 'In answer I received nothing but reproach, and so I turned back to you, the champion.' 'From them an army like a sea of water rushed eagerly to seek battle.' 'The king of India wants to fight you with arrow and bow and Indian steel.' 'This much is certain to me: because of the mighty champion, the gathering will end in weeping.' When Rustam heard this, he blazed with fury and said to Piran: 'You wretched soul.' 'With all these tricks and countless deceptions of yours, how will you hold your ground on the day of terror?' 'The king of the world warned me often, openly and in secret, about your lies.' 'And afterward, old Gudarz told me of all your snares and cunning hidden away.' 'Now I have seen your wisdom and counsel: you are a lie from head to foot.' 'You will roll helplessly in your own blood, and worse than that will befall you by this hand.' 'A life like this is worth nothing, a life spent with your head in the dragon's jaws.' 'I once said: leave that unjust, ill-omened land and come to a prosperous home.' 'You might behold a king with justice and kindness, young, gracious, and fair of face.' 'He would treat you like a father, no doubt, and raise your head higher than the sky.' 'But to you, a coat of coarse wool and leopard hide is sweeter than colored silk brocade.' 'No one disputes this with you; you will reap the very seed you scattered yourself.' Piran said to him: 'O fortunate one, fruitful, fresh, and beautiful tree,' 'Who but you knows how to speak such words? May the great ones' blessings rest on you.' 'My heart and soul are under your command; my spirit is forever your pledge.' 'Tonight alone I will take counsel with myself and speak with the assembly too.' From there he came to the dark center of his troops, his tongue full of lies, his soul thirsty for revenge. When Piran turned back from both armies, the earth heaved like a boiling mountain. Rustam spoke to the Iranians: 'I have girded my waist for war.' 'Every one of you, fill your heads with vengeance and knot your warrior brows into folds.' 'For today a great battle lies ahead, and the measure of wolf and sheep will be revealed.' 'That astrologer had told me of this day, and my heart has been in dread of it.' 'That there would be a battle between two mountains, and a whole world would gather there.' 'The seasoned great ones would come together, and in that war the world would be emptied of men.' 'The track of vengeance would vanish from the land, and iron maces would grow soft as wax.' 'Whoever comes to fight against us, do not let your hearts shrink from that task.' 'I will bind both his hands in the coil of my lasso, if the lofty heavens are my ally.' 'All of you together, every one, do not grow weary of those famous warriors.' 'If my time comes upon me in battle, I will surely not die at the feast instead.' 'What matters is that a name should endure long; you will not last, so do not plot so much.' 'Do not bind your heart to this fleeting inn of a world, for it will fill you with blood when you must part.' 'If a wise soul is your companion, it will reckon each day for good and ill.' 'The lord of the crown, the lord of treasure, does not tie his heart to this passing lodge.' The army answered Rustam thus: 'Your command stands higher than the wheel of the moon.' 'We will wage such war with our sharp blades that our name will remain until the day of resurrection.' From both sides the armies pressed close together; it was as if a black cloud had risen. Its rain was swords and arrows; the world turned into a sea of pitch. From steel arrowheads and eagle feathers, the shining face of the sun turned black. The spearheads whirling in the dust seemed to have smeared the very stars with blood. The clang of the ox-headed maces made it seem the sky was raining down stones. Thorn and dust were drowned in blood and brains, and the horse-armor was torn to shreds. The whole plain was one stream of blood, with bodies flung down face-first everywhere. Like elephants toppled in heaps, their faces pale as saffron, their lips blue as indigo. Gudarz, the old man, said this: 'Since I first girded my belt for manhood,' 'I have never seen a battle like this, nor ever heard of one from the proud warriors.' 'That the world should be so full of the slain, some despised, others left at ease.'

Shangul roared before his army: I am the warrior, the hero, and I want this fight. He said: Tell me where that man from Sistan is; I mean to level my spear straight at him. When Shangul's voice reached Rustam, he scanned the enemy ranks and spotted him. He said to him: Here I am, ready for battle; watch that you don't run for cover in your own army. Rustam said: From the Creator I have asked for nothing so openly as this, that some stranger from that great host would grow bold and seek a fight with me. Neither Saqlab nor India will be left of them, neither Indian sword nor Chinese blade. I will leave no root or branch of them standing; of these Turks I will leave neither head nor hand nor foot. He came at Shangul and cried aloud: You ill-bred, low-born wretch, Zal the golden named me Rustam; why, base one, do you call me the Sistani dog? Look now, this Sistani is your death; your coat of mail and helmet will surely be your shroud. He circled with him on the battlefield, the armies drawn up between the two lines. He drove a spear, lifted him from the saddle, flipped him over and slammed him to the ground. He rode over him, and then the lionhearted one first took him with his sword. From that side the champions rushed in, their poison-tempered blades flashing. When Shangul fled from the elephant-bodied hero, that whole host scattered. He killed two thirds of them by the sword; the brave men of Turan turned their backs. Shangul escaped from Rustam's hand with his life, for mail and armor first shielded his body. Shangul said: This is no man; he has no equal in the world. He is a raging elephant on a mountain's back; only if the whole host attacks at once can we fight him. No one seeks single combat with a dragon; if he does, he finds no escape. The Khaqan said to him: This morning your plan and your resolve were different. He ordered the army to charge together, all as one, like a moving mountain, to surround the proud hero and take the life of that mighty body. Then the lionhearted one struck with the sword and broke the Chinese army's left wing. Every time he swung his blade, he strewed the whole path with headless bodies. Against his fighting the mountain had no footing; against his fury the elephant had no place. They pressed around him so thickly that the sun went dark above his head. So many spears, daggers, maces, and arrows were aimed at the lion-taking champion that you would think he had gone into a reed thicket, the land turned crimson with blood into a wine-house. With a single blow he cut ten spears clean, roaring and seething, and the enemy dismayed. The brave men of Iran stood behind him, hearts filled with vengeance and hungry for battle. From the mass of spears, maces, clubs, and swords, you would say hail was pouring from a cloud. The whole battlefield was covered with the slain: bodies and backs and heads, helmets and caps, of Chinese and Shignani and Hindu, of Saqlabi and Herati and Pahlavi. The army lay like dust at the foot of a mountain, all crushed by a single man from Sistan, a man against whom in battle there is no standing, whose skill in leading war has no match in the world. Anyone who tells this as a tale, no wise man will agree with him, that a hundred thousand famous fighters were not enough against a single horseman. From this feud harm came to Afrasiyab; because of Rustam he could find no rest or sleep. Rustam said to the Iranians: From this battle the enemy will lose his life. This very moment, from their elephants and their treasure, the same throne and that adorned crown, I will seize from the Chinese and give to Iran, and by that make this day blessed and joyful. None but the Iranians shall rejoice; Rakhsh's hooves and God's help are enough for me. Of the Shignani, the Saqlabi, and the Chinese, I will leave not one to set foot on the earth. For today is our day of victory; the high heavens light up our army. If the just Judge grants strength and Rakhsh's shining courage shows itself, I will make this plain a graveyard, and turn the flourishing land into a walled city of the dead. Some of you head toward the enemy host; make your effort and race like the wind. When I move from my place, strike hard; you raise the cymbals and the trumpets. Turn the whole earth black as ebony with the dust of horsemen and the din of drums. Pound with clubs and heavy maces the way smiths hammer down steel. Have no fear of their vast numbers; lift the very dust of the sea up to the clouds. Keep all your eyes on my helmet; when I roar, charge and strike. Tear apart the ranks of Saqlab and China, so the earth cannot even glimpse the sky. From there he went like a maddened elephant, an ox-headed mace in his hand. Roaring, he made for the right wing, and first came against Kundur out of the army. He tore the whole right wing utterly to pieces; many a helmet and head never saw its body again.

A kinsman of Kamus, named Saveh, was there, proud and famous, his ambitions reaching everywhere. He came forward to fight the mighty Rostam, an Indian blade gripped tight in his hand. He circled to the left and to the right, demanding vengeance from Rostam for Kamus. He said to Rostam: 'You raging elephant, now you will see the waves of the Nile rise against you.' 'Now I will take fierce revenge for Kamus, if I am left alive after this battle.' When Saveh's words reached Rostam, he raised his hand and drew his heavy mace. The great warrior struck the mace upon his head, and his life left his body in agony. He swung and smashed his helmet and his skull, until you could no longer tell his head from his body. He hurled him down and drove Rakhsh over him, and no trace of Saveh was left in the world. He toppled the Kushan banner to the ground, and from that stroke he filled the army with grief. No one could stand their ground before him; he turned the brains of every head to dust. Then from the right wing he swept to the left, and the whole army, every man of it, was overcome with dread.

There stood Gahar of Gahan, a warrior fierce as a lion, with his black banner raised high. When his helmet caught sight of Rostam, he flared with rage and let out a roar like a hunting lion. He cried: I will take vengeance for the Turks of China from this man of Sistan, here on this field of war. He spurred his horse out from the ranks and came thirsting for revenge against the great warrior. But when up close he saw the helm of Rostam, a cold sigh rose from the depths of his chest. He told himself: to fight this towering elephant is like plunging into the depths of the Nile. A timely retreat with your head still on your shoulders beats seeking battle for glory and repute. He fled toward the center of his army, all the troops watching him from every side. Rostam's banner rose in the midst of the host like a tall tree on a mountain ridge. Rostam chased after him like a dust storm; the earth turned red and the sky went deep blue. Gahar of Gahan grew terrified, knowing his crown and throne would end with this. He raised a cry as loud as a war drum, so loud that Gudarz and Tus both heard it. He wanted to fight, but he did not know this time he would only weep in defeat. How good it is when a man knows himself, instead of rushing to attack his foe. The mighty warrior was right behind him, saying: Get ready, dig your grave or sew your shroud. He drove a spear into his belt, tearing his armor and the joints that held it. He flung him off like a leaf from a tree when a hard wind strikes the branch. He toppled that dark banner to the ground, as if Gahar of Gahan had never been. The champions saw what Rostam had done, and the dust of battle rose on left and right. They carried off the royal banner and the drums; proud Gudarz and Tus came forward. A shout went up from the army of Iran, for the champion who shields the host had won. Rostam gave the order: send me a hundred noble horsemen from Iran. This very hour, that elephant and ivory throne, those armbands, cymbals, that collar and crown, I will seize from China and give to Iran, hand them to the victorious king of the brave. A hundred riders came from Iran, armored, gripping their ox headed maces. Rostam said to the men of Iran: let every one of you gird up for vengeance. By the life and head of the king, by the sun and moon, by the blood of Siyavash, by the army of Iran, by God the just, the giver of life, who grants victory on the field of war: if any noble of Iran's army takes flight before the army of Turan, I will strike his head from his body on the spot and turn his blood into flowing streams. The army knew he had a lion's nature: his claws craved the deer's flesh he hunted. They all turned their faces toward the Khaqan, each one lowering his spear, eager for battle. The mighty warrior charged out in front, giving the reins to swift Rakhsh. He splashed blood up toward the moon; the stars looked down upon that battlefield. So much dust boiled up from the field that no one could see the face of the plain. From the din of riders and the blows of spears, stirrup could not be told from rein. The air turned black as a dark face; the dead so covered the ground that no path showed. The whole land was bodies, armor, and helmets, and heads bidding farewell to their trunks. The dust of the horsemen rose like clouds on the wind; the earth filled with the clang of steel. Many a noble, for the sake of honor and name, threw away his life recklessly in the fight. Rostam let out such a roar that you would think the whole world had begun to boil. He said: that elephant, that ivory throne, those armbands, crown, collar and diadem, the shields of China and the royal tent, the crown and all the trappings of the beasts, all these befit Kay Khosrow of Iran, who is the new sovereign of the world. For no king so exalted has ever lived; the sun and moon have never seen his like. What business have you with a crown of gold, faced with such strength, such effort, such skill? Reach out your hands to be bound; bend your waists into the loop of my lasso. For you it is enough to keep your lives; the crown and signet belong to another. I will send them to the king of the earth, whether Manshur, Shangal, or the Khaqan of China. Otherwise I will fling the dust of this battlefield up to the moon beneath my horses' hooves. The Khaqan opened his tongue with insults, saying: You wretch of foul body and foul soul, neither Iran, nor that king, nor that gathering: it is you who should be begging me for mercy. You man of Sistan, worse than everyone, do you imagine the king of China needs your army? They loosed a fierce rain of arrows, like an autumn wind lashing a tree. Eagle feathered shafts filled the sky; no one could dream of a battle so fierce. When Gudarz saw that storm of steel like diamonds, his heart burned with worry for Rostam. He said to Rahham: Do not delay a moment. Go with your bow and two hundred riders. With Chachi bows and arrows of white poplar, guard the mighty warrior's back in the fight. Then he told Giv: Draw up the troops; on this field do not seek out more enemies. This is no time to rest or take one's ease, nor a moment for planning and array. Go with the brave toward the right flank; find out where Piran and Human have gone. Look at the mighty warrior before the Khaqan of China, hurling the sky down upon the earth. Rahham flared up like a leopard and came to guard Rostam's back in the battle. Rostam said to Rahham the lion: I fear my Rakhsh is worn out from the labor. If he grows weak, I will fight on foot, soaked and glazed with blood and sweat. This is an army thick as ants and locusts; you keep clear of the elephants and their drivers. We will bring them all whole before the king, a fresh gift from Shognan and from China. Then from that spot he shouted: May the devil be the companion of Rome and China! You wretches whose fortune is lost and helpless, all of you pitiful, aching mourners: Had you no word of who Rostam is? Or has your skull been emptied of all sense? The man who thinks nothing of a dragon, who hunts down elephants on the day of war, are your heads still not weary of fighting me? My only gift is the mace and the sword. He loosed the coiling lasso from his saddle strap and cast its raw hide loop over the saddle bow. He spurred Rakhsh, and a roar rose up that tore the very ear of a dragon. Wherever he flung that rawhide loop, he cleared the ground of its bravest men. Each time he snatched a chieftain from his saddle, with the noose of his lasso from ambush, on this battlefield proud Tus would send the horns and drums blaring up to the clouds. He bound the hands of every man of Iran's enemies, driving them from the plain toward the hills.

From the back of his elephant, the Khaqan looked out and saw the earth stretching like the Nile. There, on the ridge of a high mountain, stood a great elephant; its name was Rustam, binder of demons. From the dark clouds a vulture came to gaze on the stars and the wheel of the moon. One of the champions stepped forward from the army, a man who knew the speech of Iran well. He said to him: go stand before that lion of a man and tell him not to be rash in battle. The men of Chaghan, Shughnan, China, and Vahr have nothing to gain from this feud. One is the king of Khotlan, one the king of China; you have no quarrel with strangers. There is a monarch, Afrasiyab, who knows fire well enough from water. He gathered a whole world in this way, and brought disaster on himself from this war. No one lives without greed, without honor or shame; yet peace comes out better than war. The envoy came before the mighty-bodied one, his tongue full of words, his heart full of dread. He said to him: O great warrior, now that your fighting is done, seek the feast instead. Surely you hold in your heart no grudge against the Khaqan of China for what is past. As he turns back, you turn back too, for the army's battle is now at an end. Since Kamus was slain by your hand, the head of all the warriors has been cut off. He answered thus: the elephants and the crown, the ivory throne, must all come to me. He set out to plunder Iran; what use are pleading and talk now? When he knows the army has come to fight, the troops' haste has left all delay behind. The envoy said: O master of Rakhsh, do not give away the deer you haven't caught in the field. Who knows how fortune itself will turn, who will come back victorious from the fray? When Rustam heard this, he spurred Rakhsh on; I am, he said, the lion-slayer, the crown-giver. A man of strength, the lasso on my arm; this is the day for tricks, the hour for snares. What is the Khaqan of China to my lasso? What is a raging lion to my binding grip?

He threw that coiled and twisted lasso, tying up the heads of the mounted riders. When he reached the white elephant, the king of China gave up all hope of living. When the lasso flew from Rustam's hand, it caught the head of the king of China. He dragged him down from the elephant and threw him to the ground; they bound the arms of China's ruler. They marched him on foot to the river of honey: no elephant, no crown, no throne, no royal litter. Such is the way of this house of deceit: sometimes on the heights, sometimes in the depths. As long as the sky has turned, it has been so: now war and poison, now sweetness and love. After that he took up his heavy mace; to it the great and the small were all the same. The battlefield, its passes and plains, grew so crowded that even an ant or a gnat had no room to pass. So many were killed and wounded that rivers of blood flowed: one headless, another thrown down face first. The bright fortune of the enemy turned so dark that their day seemed to slide into night. A cloud rose up and a black wind, and the light of sun and moon was blotted out. The enemy could not tell his head from his feet; they fled into the desert on the long road away. Piran watched that battle and saw how sharply fortune had turned. No Manshur, no Fartus, no ruler of China; none of those famous men, those warriors of vengeance. He saw the banners of the great overturned, and the wounded lying wretched in the dust. He said to brave Nastihan and to Kalbad: sheathe your swords, hide your spears. He lowered that black banner, and they fled in haste, on roads and off them. Giv plundered the whole right wing; he covered plain and pass with the dead, thick as the feathers of a partridge. He searched the left of the army and the right, trying to learn where Piran was. When they could not find him, the brave men turned back toward the noble Rustam. The warhorses were worn out from the fighting, all weary and wounded from the battle. They went off toward the mountain, their hearts content, Rustam leading the company at the front. Every helmet and coat of mail was drowned in blood and dust, and the horse-armor hung in tatters. Bodies weary from war, hearts glad from battle: this is the way and the nature of the world. Chest and sword, foot and stirrup were soaked in blood; for all the dead you could not tell high ground from low. Until they had washed themselves, they could not tell one man from another. They washed their heads and bodies; their hearts were already clean, for the enemy was bound in heavy chains. Rustam said to the Iranians: now we must loosen our belts. Before the victorious Lord of the world, no mace is needed and no belt fastened tight. Bow your heads to the dark earth now, for from now on you will all wear the crown. Not one of these famous warriors is missing, though now our heart has turned gloomy. So Rustam spoke to Gudarz and Giv, to those famous men and brave champions. When the news reached the king of the world, he told me these words in secret. That Tus the commander had fled to the mountain, worn down by Piran and Human. We left Iran with judgment and clear mind, but my brain boiled over at the coming battle. For Bahram, son of Gudarz, and for Rivniz, my heart grew as dark as pitch. I rode from Iran with a fierce grip, not resting a moment anywhere. When my eyes fell upon the Khaqan of China, upon those famous men and warriors of vengeance, especially upon Kamus with all his glory and might, upon those shoulders, that stature, that arm, and that mace, each of them stood tall as a mountain, with a raging elephant crouched beneath. I said to myself: my hour has come, though I have girded my belt in manhood. In all my long years I had never seen so many warriors or such vast war gear anywhere. I faced the demons of Mazandaran in the dark night amid heavy maces, yet my heart never flinched from courage; I never said I would give up my desire. Except the moment I saw Kamus fight, when my heart, from this grudge, grew wholly tight. Now, if before the pure God we all roll one by one into the dust with our pain, it is fitting, for He is the one who gave strength, high fortune, and the shares of Saturn and the Sun. May this matter never take a downward turn; may no terror ever come upon us. See to it that the scouts, at once, carry the news to the king of the world. Let that famed court be adorned, and let him set the royal crown upon his head. Let him give generously to the poor, so that blessing may rest upon his life too. Now take off your battle garments, and dress yourselves for rest and ease. Sorrow and the heart's desire will surely pass; time keeps counting our every breath. It is better that we count our cups of wine and pay no heed to this unkind wheel of fate. Thanks to the victorious Lord of the world, from whom come courage, fortune, and skill. Now let us drink till midnight, and open our lips in memory of the great. It is only right that, in this fleeting inn of a world, we not fill our hearts with so much pain and toil. The great men called down blessings upon him: may the crown and the royal seal never be without you. For the one to whom a man like Rustam is a servant, his head rises higher than the turning heavens. Blessed be this lineage and noble stock, and blessed the land that brings forth a champion like you. You know what you did for us out of love; may heaven rejoice in your very life. We were all as good as dead, our day undone; through you we came back to life and lit up the world. He gave orders to bring the elephant with the ivory throne, along with the golden collar and the crown. He brought royal wine and the cup, and first of all raised a toast to the king of the world. The trumpet blared from atop the mighty elephant; their clamor carried for two leagues. When the wine had brightened the champion's face, they went off happy and light of heart. When the moon tore open the shirt of night and set its turquoise throne above the sky, a pale glow scattered across the plain, as the slow, dark night slipped by like an African. That shining dagger, the sun, appeared, and the face of the earth turned the color of ruby. The drum sounded from the royal pavilion, and the warriors of the army rose from their places. Rustam said to the proud chiefs: nowhere has any sign of Piran been found. We must go to that battlefield; troops must be sent out in every direction. Bizhan, the lionhearted man, set out ahead of him toward the place where the field of battle had been. He saw a world full of the slain and of plunder, and tents pitched everywhere. He saw the land strewn with the wounded, and men thrown to the ground with their feet bound. They found no one left alive; there was only bare earth, tents, and pavilions. Word reached Rustam that the land had been emptied of the Turks. At the carelessness and the sleep of the Iranians, Rustam raged like a furious lion. He opened his tongue in rebuke and said: no one here has any sense paired with their brains. With the enemy trapped like this between two mountains, how could a whole army slip away from us? Didn't I tell you to send out the scouts, and to comb the passes and hills like open plain? You gave your heads to comfort and to sleep, while the enemy planned his escape. Taking your ease brings sorrow and hardship; but when you labor, that labor yields treasure. If you think that one day you can rest easy, you will still be trembling with fear for Iran's fate. From now on, whether it is Piran and Kalbad, or Human and Ruyin and Pulad, look out over this plain with an army: you belong to one land, and I, Rustam, to another. If you have the strength, come and fight; but after this, when will you ever get me in your grasp? For I returned victorious from the fray, yet the good outcome of the work was ruined. He blazed with anger at Tus and grew like a leopard: is this a place for sleep, or a field of war? Look at the scout: whose army is he from? What is the name of the leader of that clan? When you find the scout with your cudgel, at once beat down his hands and feet. Take his belongings and bind his feet, then find a tall elephant and mount him on it. Send him off to the king in this state, so that at that court he may be brought to reason. The rubies, the jewels, the ivory throne, the gold coins, the crown, the treasure and the diadem, see what the army of Iran holds; gather all of it and bring it before me. First from these spoils the king must have his share, and only then should you and I seek ours. On that plain there had been many kings, all of them the great names of the world. From China, from the Slavs, from India and Vahr, all treasure holders, conquerors of cities. The commander came and gathered everything; the warriors went out onto the field of battle. Golden belts and crowns set with garnet, brocade of Rome and thrones of ivory, arrows and bows and armored horse coverings, maces and the daggers of the Indians. There was a mountain standing between two mountains, and crowds gathered round it to watch. A rider drawing his bow, broad in the chest, mighty of body and full of valor. He would loose a four feathered arrow, but it could not pass from this side to that. When Rustam looked, he stood amazed, and called again and again upon the Creator of the world. He said: this fleeting day is never steady, one moment it makes a feast, the next a war. This wealth turns from one hand to another; at times it brings a curse, at times a blessing. Time never stays at rest; so it has always been, as long as custom and faith exist. One man gathers a treasure like this, and another comes along to enjoy it. Kamus and the Khaqan of China meant to raise fire out of the land of Iran, with these mighty war elephants and all this wealth, with this army and this arrayed treasure. They rejoiced in their treasure and their multitude, and for a while gave no thought to God, who created the wheel of the sky and time itself, who created so much that is seen and unseen. Know God and give thanks to God; the man who knows goodness puts his trust in Him. From Him come our strength, our glory, and our skill; from Him our sorrows, and from Him our very essence. There was an army and a flourishing treasure too, but every plan of theirs was one of injustice. Now, of the nobles of every land, of every country a chosen chief, on these mighty elephants I will send to the king the golden throne and the golden crown. That wealth too, on swift and spirited camels, I will send, everything worthy that there is. From here I will race forward like a leopard; a man of true worth does not linger or delay. Anyone guilty of murder and bloodshed, left alive in the land, becomes a source of shame. I will wash the earth clean of hatred with my blade; I will leave no wicked man standing on this ground. Gudarz said to him, You who are wise, may you stay in your place as long as any place remains. May you be happy and generous, your heart's wish fulfilled; you gave this battle everything it demanded. The mighty hero looked for a messenger who could speak boldly and directly to the king. He chose Fariburz, son of Kavus, for closeness to the king suited him well. He said, You of good fortune and great name, born of royal seed and a ruler yourself, skilled, wise, and of noble birth, may you be glad, and may King Kavus rejoice in you. Take on this task and set out from here; carry my letter to the new king. Take the prisoners along with you, the camels, and all this treasure, every last piece, the crown, the armband, the mace and the diadem, the great war elephants and the ivory throne. Fariburz said, O raging lion, I am ready; I have girded myself tight for the road.

He called in the seasoned scribe and told him everything that needed to be set down. He ordered a royal letter written in Pahlavi, the ink scented with amber. The letter opened with praise of God, who is and who remains forever. He who adorns the moon, Saturn, and the sun, who shapes glory, crown, and strength. He made the heavens, time, and earth; he gave soul and wisdom and created faith. And may His blessing rest upon the king, and may the world never lose his memory. By your command I arrived between two mountains, where the armies of two nations had massed together. The enemy's swordsmen in the battle surely numbered more than a hundred thousand. Men of Kashan, Soghd, China, and India, an army stretching from China to the sea of Sind. From Kashmir to the banks of the honey river, we saw pavilions, elephants, and litters. I did not fear, trusting in the king's fortune, that ruin might come out of this battlefield. For forty days we fought together; you would think the world had grown too narrow for them. They were all rulers of their lands, not weaklings, and their fortune was not thin. Between the two mountains, across meadow and plain, there was no passing through for the blood and the slain. For some forty leagues, it seems, the earth was mud, kneaded everywhere with blood. If I speak at length of this long, victorious campaign, this letter will only grow longer. All the rulers who wear chains I dragged from their elephants with the loop of my lasso. My mind and my face are now set on battle; perhaps that renegade will come before my mace. May all tongues be full of your praise; may the vault of the turning sky be your ground. When the letter was sealed, he gave it to the noble Fariborz of royal descent. With a king, an elephant, and a thousand camels, they loaded up and set out from that battlefield. Fariborz, son of Kavus, went off joyfully, hurrying eagerly toward Khosrow. The mighty champion went with him, along with the nobles and heroes of that gathering. To say farewell, he took him in his arms and wept out of sorrow for the king. From there he led back toward the army as the curling locks of night appeared. They sat down in peace with lute and wine, a harp in one hand, a reed pipe in the other. Then each went off to his own rest, each embracing his own desire. When the sun, in its yellow silk, laid its harsh light upon the heap of lapis sky, at once, from the entrance of the royal tent, the blast of the trumpet rose up. The mighty one girded himself for the charge and mounted that swift-footed steed. He ordered provisions taken up, and they left the hard road behind them. They crossed the desert and the long road; such a battle-ready army came marching on. He said to Tus, Gudarz, and Giv: 'You famous names, you brave heroes, this time I will seize the fight in my grip, and things will grow tight for those who wish us ill. Who could have known that this scheming man of Sind would bring an army from China, the Slavs, and India? I will leave him so drunk and senseless that I will make his body the grave-dust of Siyavash, so that from India, the Slav lands, Turan, and China, no one will ever again sing his praise.' He struck the war drum, and dust rose from the plain; the air filled with dust, the ground with men. From those quarrelsome, famous warriors, a great clamor rose up into the clouds. They marched two stages from that place, where the face of the world was black with the slain. They saw a woodland and came down to it; the whole plain and river turned dark with troops. There they stayed in revelry, wine in hand, one happy and glad, another sleeping drunk. Envoys came from every land, from every noble and every chief. Many gifts, fine goods, and offerings they brought to that famous hero. When a few days had passed in this tale, the lofty sky rested from its turning. Someone came to the king of Iran's army: 'Fariborz, King Kavus's son, has arrived.' The king of the brave went out to meet him with horn and drum and a heavy army. Fariborz reached Khosrow, and when he saw him, he kissed the ground. Khosrow looked at those prisoners, the camels, the elephants, and the wounded. He turned his reins and came onto the road, and lifted the royal crown from his head. He dismounted and rolled in the dust before God, and said: 'O pure Lord of the world, a tyrant wronged me and left me fatherless, in pain and grief. You freed me from pain and hardship, and nurtured me for the crown. Earth and time became my servants; a whole world was filled from my treasury. I thank you, not the gathering of men; only, do not take Rostam's life from me.' He spurred his horse and turned back from there, passing by that elephant and those prisoners. He lavished praise upon the champion: 'May he be joyful and bright of soul.'

The scribe came and wrote the answer, planting a tree in the garden of greatness. First he gave praise to the Creator, from whom come a clear heart and good fortune. The Lord of Venus and the turning sky, from whom come strife, peace, and love. He raised a sky like this on high, and made the world an adornment of night and day. One He created dark of fortune, another He made worthy of the throne. Know sorrow and joy as coming from God, for from Him comes every kind of grace upon us. All that you sent to this court has arrived: the captives, the elephants, the throne and the crown. Many camels loaded with goods, with clothing and with carpets too. All these tools of delight and feasting and celebration come to you as you would go to battle. Except the one whose end draws near before him, who in this way grows weary of his own life. And the hardship of the war with Turan's army, spending night and day upon the battlefield. News of your struggle reached me day and night, yet I never opened my lips to a stranger. Night and day before the pure God I was restless, my heart torn to shreds. One who has Rostam for a champion deserves to stay forever young. The heavens have no servant like you; may fortune's love never leave you. The scribe finished with the words of praise, and Khosrow set his seal upon the letter. He ordered robes of honor to be prepared, bridles and belts to be adorned. A hundred curly-haired ones with golden belts, a hundred precious horses with saddles of gold. A hundred camels all loaded with Chinese silk, a hundred camels likewise laden with fine cloth. Two rings of shining ruby, and a crown of lustrous pearls set on top. From the king's own wardrobe a robe worked in gold, likewise an armlet, a torque, and a golden belt. For the chieftains they prepared gifts of every kind, and in this way they emptied a treasury. For Fariborz a crown, a mace, and a banner, a golden throne and slippers of gold. He sent them and commanded the return, passing from Iran toward the commander. He said: in the war with Afrasiab there must be no rest, no food, no sleep. Until that head of the ruthless king is brought bound in the loop of your lasso. Fariborz turned back from that court, fulfilling the wish of the king of Iran's army.

Then news reached Afrasiab that fire had risen out of a sea of water. From Kamus, Manshur, and the Khan of China, a fresh defeat had come upon the land of Turan. An army had come from Iran to make war, one so vast that even the turning sky found its path narrowed. For forty days the fighting stayed the same; day and night the world wore a single color. The sun was hidden by the dust of the horsemen, as if waking fortune had fallen asleep. In the end, of that countless army not a single rider was left fit for battle. The great men and the famous chiefs were all bound, one and all, in heavy chains. In disgrace they were thrown onto the backs of elephants; the troops had gathered across two miles. So thick lay the dead on the battlefield that no one had room to pass along the way. And on this side Piran went off toward Khotan with a company of the famous. No man of Kashan, Sughd, or Wahr was left whom the writ of Rostam's sword had not summoned. And on this side the army pressed in hard, with vengeful Rostam at its front. If that host should come to fight us, the mountain will become plain and the plain a mountain. When Afrasiab heard these words, his heart filled with pain and his head with smoke. He summoned all the priests and wise men and spoke at length of what had passed. How a warlike army from Iran had turned its face against those famous men. That heavy host was broken, for all its array and its boundless numbers. The grief of Kamus and the Khan of China, he said, has as good as bound me to the ground. Such an army was chained and wounded; two thirds of my proud chiefs were taken captive. They dragged them off to Iran on the backs of elephants; the earth was soaked in blood for miles. What shall we do, and how shall we cure this? We must not take it lightly in our hearts. If Rostam is the one leading them, no thorn or blade of grass will be left on this soil. For I have seen his handiwork myself, and I have heard of it too from those in the know. Of what he did on the day of battle to the great men of Iran, for all their skill. Of what he did to the king of Mazandaran, and what his mace brought down on those chiefs. The nobles prepared their answer, and all rose together from their places. They said: if the famous men of Saqlab and China sought war and vengeance against Iran, not one man of our army has been lost, nor has this land run steadily with blood. Why do you keep fearing Rostam, and grant the enemy's wish so cheaply? We were all born from our mothers for death; once we tied our belts for war, we have not loosed them. If they trample our soil beneath their feet, they will pay the price for that deed of theirs. If from now on we gird ourselves for revenge, not one of the Iranians will be left alive. The king heard the answer of his nobles, and chose an eloquent man from the army. He summoned the brave and the proud, and gave up sleep, rest, and food. He opened his treasury and handed out gold coins, feeding his own soul on heart's blood. The ground grew so crowded with warriors, you would think the very heavens had come out for vengeance. When the key came to unlock this cruel bond, Fariborz reached Rostam. Glad at heart, he came with the king's robe of honor, and in it a crown adorned with jewels. At this the elephant bodied hero rejoiced, and the great men of the army gathered around. They gave praise to the champion: may the land flourish because of Rostam. Through him may the soul of the world's king be glad, and may the land and realm of Iran flourish. We are all your servants and your slaves, our heads bowed to your command and will. From there he led the army on in joy, came to Sughd, and stayed two weeks. He hunted the wild ass and reached for wine; in this way for a while he ate and took his measure of life.

From there he led his army on, and at a day's march he sighted a city. The name of that city was Cruelty; it was a fortress crowded with people. Their food was human flesh; every so often a lovely, fairy faced one would vanish. At the table of that foul king nothing was served but young children not yet grown. The servants who were beautiful, flawless in face and stature, were prepared as dishes for that table; this is how the king was fed. Rostam gave the order: three thousand armored, mail clad horsemen he sent to that fortress with Gostaham, and two wise warriors alongside him. The man who ruled had the name Kafur; he held the writ of authority over that city. Kafur put on his coat of war, and the whole city stood with him like leopards. They were lasso throwers and men of great strength, tusked elephants in the thick of battle. When Gostaham saw the world in such a state, he saw it turned upside down in the hands of a demon. He ordered his men to rain down arrows and to set his hidden riders upon them. Kafur said to his defiant men: an anvil takes no mark from an arrowhead. Bring out all your swords, maces, and lassos, and bind the heads of these proud men. For a while they clashed so fiercely that they seemed to strike fire from the sea. Many of the Iranians were killed; the sky above turned into a heaven of disaster. Gostaham quickly said to Bizhan: you must rub your reins a little, tell Rostam not to wait so long; set out with two hundred riders. Bizhan, son of Giv, went off like the wind and told the whole tale to Rostam. Rostam pressed heavily into his stirrups; his army could not tell height from hollow. He came upon that battlefield the way a wind comes rushing down from a black mountain. He saw many Iranians slain, and many proud men fled from the fight. He said to Kafur: you dog of vile stock, now your battle and your struggle have reached their end. Kafur launched a fierce charge against that fruitful, royal tree. He hurled a sword swift as an arrow, hoping it might strike the lion taking hero. Rostam raised his shield before it, and Kafur, the fighter, was left helpless. He threw a lasso toward Tus, and Rostam mocked him greatly for it. The son of Zal struck a mace upon his head that shattered his skull, helmet, and crest together. So he pressed his charge right up to the fortress gate; the great could not be told from the small. They shut the fortress gates and from the walls came a roar like the day of resurrection. They cried: 'You man of strength and wits, do not wage such a vengeful war against us.' 'When your father brought you into the world, what did he do, this lasso thrower, if not fight the heavens themselves?' 'It is a pity to spend such effort on this citadel, which the wise call a masterwork.' 'When Tur son of Fereydun rode out from Iran, he summoned masters of every craft.' 'They raised a wall laid out in this fashion, from stone and brick and wood and reed.' 'By skill and toil he built it up like this; he poured out labor and emptied the treasury.' 'Many able men labored hard to raise up the dust of these fortress walls.' 'No king who ruled this citadel could ever repay the effort spent on it.' 'There are weapons here and plenty of food, and supply routes running below.' 'Even if you make war and struggle for years, you will gain nothing but a lawsuit for your pains.' 'No catapult can breach this wall, not even by the spells of Salm or the chants of the priest.' When Rostam heard this he fell to thinking; his heart grew tangled with grief and pain like a thicket. He waged a war he did not relish, and threw his army against all four sides. On one flank Gudarz, on another Tus, and behind him the war elephants with horns and drums. On another side the army of Zabol, in armor, with the daggers of Kabol. When Rostam saw this he took up his bow, and the whole fortress stood amazed at him. Anyone who raised his head above the wall had fate stitch his skull shut on the spot. The arrowhead whispered secrets in the brain, coupling itself with cruel destruction. Then they began to dig out the base of the wall and to bring down men from the ramparts. They set props beneath it and smeared black naphtha over its top. When half the fortress wall had been undermined, they scattered fire through the timbers. The wall built by Tur the warrior came crashing down, and from every side the army poured in around it. Rostam commanded: 'Now make war! Bring out the bows and the poplar shafts of arrows.' The warriors, for the sake of their treasure and their children, and for their homeland and their kin, all threw their lives to the wind together; the luckiest was the one who had never been born. The brave men dismounted then, with Chinese shields and arrows and bows. They advanced alongside the spearmen, with Bizhan and Gostaham at the front. With the fierce breath of fire and the rain of arrows, flight became unavoidable after that. When they came out from the fortress wall, they fled and fled across the open plain. The warrior then sealed off the fortress, and they turned to plunder and to killing. How many they killed, and how many they took captive, carrying off young and old from that city. Much silver, gold, and precious things, along with cattle, servants, and attendants too. The mighty Rostam came and washed his head and body, and first went before the Lord of the world. For his victory he began to pray, and he offered praise to the Creator of the world. He said to the Iranians that the Creator had come to their aid, both in secret and openly. Offer prayers for this victory, and give praise to the Creator of the world. The nobles bowed their heads to the ground before the Creator of the world and began to pray. When they had finished with the pure God, they turned to praise that famous hero. They said: anyone who is not like you in war had better stay home, whether for honor or for shame. You have the body of an elephant and the claws of a lion, and you are never for a moment weary of battle. The mighty one answered: this strength and glory are but a robe of honor from the Just One. You all share in this, every one of you; there is no cause to complain of the world's Creator. He ordered that Giv, with ten thousand shield-bearers and armored horsemen, should ride swiftly to the border of Khotan, so the Turks would not gather to muster. When night showed its curling black locks, the moon's back was bent with worry. Giv set off with those warrior riders; three days that raid lasted. When the sun revealed its crown, Rostam rose and took his seat on the ivory throne. The proud Giv came back from Turan, having captured many renowned brave men, and many fair-faced idols of Taraz, precious horses, and every kind of gear. He sent half of it to the king, and shared the rest among the army. After that, Gudarz, Tus, and Giv, along with Gostaham, Shidush, and brave Farhad, together with Bizhan son of Giv, rose up and offered fresh praise. Gudarz spoke thus: O proud one, the world stands in need of your love. It is not right that from now on we should open our lips, by day or by night, without your praise. Anyone who has traveled the face of the earth, who has seen the world, its peace, its strife and its hatred, has never seen so great an army gathered in one place, nor heard of it from an aged sage, of such kings and elephants and ivory thrones, of such men and horses, of such treasure and crowns. The very stars looked down upon that plain, seeing this army helpless before the battle. We circled that fortress here many times, and found no cure for anyone but vengeance. You freed us from the dragon's jaws; your bow was the thing that set us loose. You are the backbone of Iran and the crown of its leaders, worthy of honor, and we are the humble ones before you. May God repay this deed of yours and keep your face forever smiling. We have no means to reward you; our tongues can offer nothing but praise. Your greatness grows greater every day; your skilled horse Rakhsh alone is worth a hundred armies. The mighty hero blessed them, saying: may the whole world flourish through such heroes. My strength comes from noble, free people; my bright heart is witness to my words. Then he said: let us stay here three days, joyful, lighting up the world. On the fourth we ride to war against Afrasiab, and set fire even to water. All the famous warriors agreed with his words and turned to feasting and drinking. Then word reached Afrasiab that his land and realm had been ruined by the enemy. His heart filled with grief at that news, and all his silks turned to thorns against his body. He asked himself: whose work is this battle? The army is large, but who is its commander? If it is that Rustam I have seen, I have twisted away in agony from his combat many times. He recoiled, then said aloud: who among us can stand as his equal in war? There was once a child, slender as a reed, against whom I had led an army. He came and lifted me from my saddle; that whole army was left astonished. The army answered Afrasiab: do not keep turning your head away from a war with Rustam. You are the one who from the dust of the battlefield can send boiling blood as high as the moon. There are plenty of weapons and fighting men; why let your heart be tight with dread over Rustam? Do not grieve over a single horseman's fighting; look at these new famous warriors of ours. Consider him made wholly of iron; yet, brave as he is, he is still one man. Short talk has run long: you, with a whole army, devise a way to deal with him. Bring his head down from the saddle to the dust; after that, why fear the king of Iran? Neither Kaykhosrow's realm nor his treasure will survive; this battle costs us no great trouble. Look at this famous army, young men, fit for war. For the sake of our land and home and our kin, our women, our little ones, and our children, we will all, every one of us, give our lives to death; that is better than handing the world to the enemy. When Afrasiab heard these words, he forgot that old defeat. He ordered the army to be readied, and they rose up for fresh revenge. About the land of his ancestors and his own city, he laid out a fresh plan. He answered: When things get hard, I will bring my weapons of war to the front. I will not let Kaykhosrow sit happy and content on his throne, blessed by his good fortune. On the day of battle I will drag down the Zabuli hero's head into the dust with my long reach. The proud chiefs cheered him on and called their leader to vengeance. They said: Live long, be joyful and victorious; may you light up the world to your heart's desire. The commander had seen many wars and had proven himself in every task. There was a lionhearted man named Farghar, one who had known the cage and escaped many traps. He cleared the place of strangers and said to Farghar: O worthy man, Go now toward the Iranian army and take a good look at this war-seeking Rostam. See how many horsemen there are and of what kind, and who leads them across this land. And among those renowned warriors, see how many they are and of how many ranks. See how many of their proud-souled champions are ready to fight on the day of battle. When Farghar set out and took the road, he went as a spy to the Iranian army. The war-seeking man grew sick at heart and showed nothing of it to the strangers. He sent for his son and called him near, and shared with him many urgent secrets. He said to Shideh: O wise one, when has your army ever truly cared for you? Know this: the countless troops that have come to this border, so many thousands, their commander is the lionhearted Rostam, who with his sword turns the earth to mud. The elephant-bodied champion Rostam of Zabul, look and see who could ever be his match. Warriors like Kamus, Manshur, and the Khaqan of China, Gahar and the celebrated Gorgvi, and Kandar, and Shangol the king of India, with an army stretching from Kashmir to the banks of the Indus, by the strength of this lion-catching Rostam they were killed, and many were taken captive. For forty days the war dragged on, sometimes battle, sometimes feasting and restraint. In the end Rostam brought them down from their elephants with the loop of his lasso and put them in chains. The horsemen and champions of every land, the chief of every great house from all sides, have now come to this country in this fashion, the crowned and defiant lords among them. I will not stay here with so much treasure and throne, for the situation has turned grim in this hard business. Now whatever treasure there is, the crowns and belts, the golden collars and golden shields, I will send all of it toward the Almas River; this is no time for wine, feasting, and song. I am afraid of Rustam, the fierce clawed one; only the fool believes he can be a crocodile's easy prey. On the day of battle he is not like other men; he does not flinch from fear, nor cry out from pain. He fears neither the spear nor the sharp blade; he raises a doomsday storm over his enemy. You would say he is made of copper and iron, not born of human stock, but a demon. On the day of vengeance he carries so much armor that the very back of the earth grows weary of its weight. He wears mail, breastplate, helmet, and armor; he roars like a thundering cloud. A mighty elephant cannot withstand his charge, nor could a ship carry his weapons across the Nile. Beneath him a whole mountain moves like the wind; you would think he was born of the wind itself. He has the speed of gazelles and the terror of a lion; in combat he grows bolder than a lion. If you ask him to speak, on the day of action he is like a ship upon the sea. I have fought that brave one many times; he wears a coat of armor made from leopard hide. My weapons never harmed him; I tested him again and again with mace and axe. Now, to test our fate, let us wage one battle and see how the day turns out. If God grants us his aid, the lofty wheel of fortune will turn as we wish. Neither that city will remain nor that king; perhaps this war will end in my favor. If on the day of battle Rustam's hand prevails, I will not linger here for long. I will go to the far shore of the Sea of China and leave to him this land of Turan. Shida said to him: Wise king, may you be blessed as long as crown and throne exist. You have glory, majesty, and courage, noble birth, heart, fortune, and wisdom. You need no teacher to give you counsel; just look at how the world keeps turning. Men like Piran, Human, and Farshidvard, like Kalbad and Nastihan, that lionhearted warrior, their weapons are broken and their hearts are shattered; from fear and grief they break apart at every moment. Do not steer this battle's ship into the wind, now that you know a mighty army has come. You are the chosen one among the kings of the world, a seeker of glory and seasoned by experience. By the life and head of the king of Turan's army, by the sun and moon, by the throne and crown, the fate of Kamus and the Khaqan of China has filled my heart with blood and my head with rage. The dark night opened its grim eye; from grief the moon's back bent low. The world turned as black as musk when Farghar returned from the army of Iran. He came to Afrasiyab in the dark night, at the hour of rest and sleep. He said: From the lofty court I went out toward Rustam, the demon binder. I saw a great green royal tent, and around it an army fierce as ravenous wolves. A dragon banner stood raised, restless, as if it could hold neither still nor to any one spot. The reins hung down over the saddle's ridge, and a coiled rawhide loop was tied to the saddle straps. Inside the tent, a furious war elephant of a man, girded tight in a tiger-skin battle coat. A bright bay stallion stood before him, so eager you would think it was about to spring from its place. Commanders like Tus, Gudarz, and Giv, with Faribarz, Shidush, and brave Gorgin. The vanguard scout was Goraz, together with Gostaham, who stands beside Bizhan, son of Giv. The king grew troubled at Farghar's report, and a messenger went to the army's chief commander. General Piran came swiftly as the wind, along with the nobles and the warriors of battle. He spoke at length of what Farghar had said, asking who among them would face this foe in single combat. Piran said to him: what choice is left to us in war but to seek honor and to guard against disgrace? When Afrasiab received such an answer, he hurried to press the quest for vengeance. He ordered Piran to march out with the army and confront the vengeful Rostam. Piran drew his forces out before the commander and led them toward the open plain for battle. A roar rose from the field with the sound of war drums; the world went dark as ebony with the army's dust. The troops were so many, you would say the whole world was vanishing behind the dust of the horses. The drummers cried out and roared, and they drove elephant upon elephant forward. Afrasiab came from his palace to the plain, hurrying to throw himself into the fight. He told Piran what needed to be said, for the secrets of the great must be kept hidden. Prepare a letter to Puladvand, and untie the knot of your resolve with wise counsel. Tell him what has befallen us at the hands of this renowned, quarrelsome hero. If high heaven is willing to help, let Puladvand come to this battlefield. Many armies from the lands of Saqlab and China have been overthrown and bewildered in this. Their army moves like a rolling mountain, and their commander is Rostam, the great champion. Their marshal is Rostam, and their general is Tus, and their war drums thunder up to the clouds. If Rostam is destroyed by your hand, the wheel of fate will find no path into this land. All the suffering of this whole land comes from him alone; be our rescuer in this matter. If his final hour comes at your hand, the whole face of the earth will surely be brought to submission. From my prosperous kingdom I will take no more than one share of the toil for myself. The other half of the crown and the treasure is yours, since today the battle and the hardship are yours. They sealed the letter with the king's own seal, just as the moon rose from the House of Cancer. Shideh buckled on his belt before his father; he was the messenger, and grief was his burden. Like fire, dreading harm and delay, he came to Puladvand. He praised him and handed over the letter, and told him everything about Rostam's deeds. How Rostam had come from Iran to war, and with him an army fierce as leopards. How he had bound Kamus in chains, along with the Khaqan, Manshur, and Fartus. Many captives and herds of elephants he sent, all of them, straight off to Iran. He summoned the border chiefs and the warriors and told tales of every kind. He told them what the letter said: that the world conqueror was young and headstrong. He ordered the war drums brought out and his royal tent carried onto the plain. The army gathered like demons, and a roar rose from the mounted troops. The banner behind and before Puladvand, the shield bearer with quiver and lasso. He came down from the mountain and crossed the river, and reached Afrasiab. One by one the soldiers came to welcome him, and the drums sounded from the king's court. The world seasoned man took him in his arms and recalled much of what had passed. He asked: who is the cause of the Turks' sorrow, and what in the end is the cure for this trouble? Walking gracefully, they entered the king's hall, turning things over with fresh thought and counsel. Afrasiab spoke of every matter, of delay in war and of the need for haste. Of the blood of Siavash spilled by his own hand, of what had come from all the strife and quarrels. Of the Khaqan, Manshur, and the hero Kamus, he recounted all the past events one by one. He said: all this pain comes from a single man, one who wears a shirt of leopard skin. My weapons had no effect on him, on that leopard hide, that helmet, that Chinese shield. You have crossed deserts and long roads; now devise a plan to deal with him. Puladvand's mind filled with worry over how that trap could ever be set. He answered Afrasiab: in war one must not rush so much. If this is the Rostam who ravaged Mazandaran and seized it with his heavy mace, who tore open the flank of the White Demon, the very heart of Pulad-Ghandi and Bid, then I have no strength to stand against him in battle; I dare not set myself to harm him. May my body and soul serve your will, and may wisdom always be your guide. I will keep him in mind for battle and circle around him like a leopard. Throw your army against his army, in such numbers that his head reels in confusion. Perhaps I can find a way; if not, his arms and shoulders cannot be broken by force. Afrasiab's spirit lifted at these words; he called for bright wine, harp, and lute. When Puladvand was drunk with wine, he spoke to him in a loud voice: I have made the eating, sleeping, and peace of Fereydun, Zahhak, and Jamshid turn to misery. Even Brahman trembles at my voice, and at this proud, high necked army of mine. With my sharp sword I will cut this man of Zabol to pieces on the battlefield.

When the bright sun raised its banner, the violet silk of the sky turned crimson. The war drum sounded from the king's court, and the army's roar rose to the clouds. At the front of the host stood Pouladvand, mighty in body, his arm strong with the lasso. When the two armies drew their ranks, the air turned violet and the earth turned black. The great hero put on his coat of mail and mounted his raging war elephant. In fury he charged the right wing and threw down many warriors of the enemy. After that, Pouladvand grew grieved and loosed the coiled lasso from his saddle. He fell on Tus like a maddened elephant, a lasso on his arm, a mace in his hand. He seized his belt and tore him from the saddle, lifted him high and dashed him easily to the ground. When Giv looked upon that fight, he saw Tus, son of Nozar, hurled down headlong. He spurred his horse Shabdiz from where he stood and set body and soul to the combat. He grappled with the demon like a fierce lion, clad in armor, wielding an ox-headed mace. Pouladvand cast his lasso, and the head of the warrior Giv was caught in its coils. From the field, Rohham and Bizhan watched that strength, that stature, and that skill. They rushed forward, both of them, to bind Pouladvand's hand in the loop of a lasso. Pouladvand struck out, knocking many senseless, spurred his horse, and a great cry went up. Two of the brave and noble champions, proud, valiant, and of high worth, he threw to the dust and trampled with contempt, while so many riders looked on across that plain. He came to the Kaviani standard and with his dagger cut it clean in two. A cry rose up from the army of Iran, for not one warrior was left standing on the field. Fariborz, Gudarz, and the proud chiefs took the measure of that battling demon. They said to Rustam, the avenger, that here on this battlefield Pouladvand has left no man of name upon his saddle, no rider among the warriors of the host, whom Pouladvand has not thrown to the earth with mace and dagger, arrow and lasso. The whole battlefield, end to end, is in mourning; in this crisis only Rustam can save us. After that a wailing and lament arose from the center, the left, and the right of the army. When Gudarz lost both his sons, he cried out to the just Judge. Saying: I had so many sons and grandsons, I held my head higher than the sun. In battle, before my very eyes, they were slain; such has my fortune, such my day, become. The young are gone, and I, an old man, still live; let me be ashamed before my crown and belt. He loosened his belt and lifted his helmet, and broke into shouting and lament. When Rostam heard this he grew deeply grim, and trembled like a leaf on a tree. He came near to Pouladvand and saw him standing like a towering mountain. He saw his own troops mostly wounded, and from the other side an endless attack pressing on. He said to himself: our day has turned dark, our finest captains are dazed and helpless. It seems our compass has turned against us, and our once wakeful fortune has fallen asleep. He pressed his legs and spurred Rakhsh sharply, flared into rage and set himself to fight. He said to him: you defiant demon, now you will see how fortune turns. When Rostam's voice reached the champions, the mighty hero saw his warriors fighting on foot. Four brave champions were grim with grief, like wild asses hunted, yet fierce as lions against the foe. He spoke thus to the Maker of the world: you who are above all things seen and unseen, had my eyes gone blind in battle, it would be better than seeing this bitter day, when such a cry rose up against Iran from Piran and Houman and the savage demon, with Giv and Roham and Tous forced on foot, and Bizhan too, who once mocked lions. The great men's horses ruined by arrows, leaving them tangled in a hopeless struggle. Pouladvand said to him: brave one, world-tested, famed, a lion in war, the mightiest elephant would flee before you, but now you will see the surging waves of the Nile. Behold now the fire of my fighting, my lasso, my heart, my strength, my resolve. After this you will find no trace of your king, nor of your famous men and proud captains. You will see this land only in your dreams; I will hand your army over to Afrasiab. Rostam answered Pouladvand: how much longer this threatening, trickery, and traps? Let no warrior grow too loose with his tongue, for if he does, he surely throws his own head to the wind. When Pouladvand heard these words, old sayings came back into his mind: that whoever seeks battle through injustice comes back with a wounded heart and a pale face. Whether harm comes from your enemy or your friend, it is best to deal justly with both bad and good. This is the same Rostam who took Mazandaran in the dark of night with his heavy mace. He said to him: you battle-tested man, why should we stand here pointlessly so long? They wheeled about, and dust rose from the plain, two raging elephants, two lions of war. Pouladvand drove his mount forward and hurled his twisted lasso after Rostam. That warrior rider ducked his neck aside, and so the fight went on, blow after blow. He struck with his blade and cut the lasso's knot; the sword became the key that undid that cruel bond. Then Pouladvand twisted toward his right hand, for he knew this day was a day of doom. The mighty Rustam brought his mace down on his head, and the whole gathering heard the crash of it. Pouladvand's eyes went so dark that his hand could no longer hold the reins. Rustam expected that his enemy's brain would spill out, drenching his chest in dark blood. When Pouladvand slumped from his saddle, Rustam called upon the Maker of the world: O you who are above the turning of the ages, ruler of the world, all-seeing, the Nourisher, if this turn of battle I have brought is not just, then my soul deserves no home in the next world. I would accept that Pouladvand's own hand should free my soul from the body's bonds. But if Afrasiab is the tyrant here, do not take my strength and skill from me, for if I am killed by his hand, not one warrior will be left in Iran, no farmer, no craftsman, no land, no country, no home, no harvest. The two proud champions, both fighters, turned to wrestling, on the pledge that from neither army would any avenger come to help. Half a league lay between the two armies; even the stars looked down to watch that fight. When Pouladvand and Rustam closed in together, those two grim lions locked in struggle, they wrenched hand against hand, each fighter gripping the other's belt. When Shideh saw Rustam's chest and shoulders, he drew a cold sigh from deep in his heart. He said to his father: this powerful man, the one you call Rustam the demon-binder, with that towering frame and that mighty grip, will drag even the demon's proud head into the dust. You will see nothing from our champions but flight; do not foolishly wage war against the turning heavens. Afrasiab said to Shideh: your words have set my mind on fire with worry. Go and see how Pouladvand binds his hands and wins in the wrestling. Shideh answered: the king's pledge before the army was not this. If you break your word and your mind is clouded, no fine battle will ever come from your hand. Do not turn this clear water black, for the fault-finder will lay the blame on you. The king let loose a torrent of curses, flared with rage, and grew suspicious of his son. He told him: if the demon Pouladvand takes harm from this spiteful man, and no one is left alive on this battlefield, then your so-called virtues bring nothing but loss. He seized the reins and came like a lion to the field where the two brave men fought. He watched the fight of two enraged elephants, each one locking its arms upon the other. He said to Puladvand: 'Proud lion, if you throw him down, then kill him. Split open his heart with your dagger. What matters is doing the deed, not boasting.' Giv looked hard at Afrasiyab, at all that reckless talk and hasty scheming. He spurred his horse and rode up in a fury, suspicious now, for the pact had been broken. He said to Rostam: 'O warrior, give your servants their orders; tell us what you command. Look at how Afrasiyab keeps his word: the moment he saw the peril, he rushed to break it. He came to inflame his champion's heart, teaching him to use the dagger in the wrestling.' Rostam told him: 'I am the man of battle; in the grappling I take my steady time. Why should fear come over you? Why should your hearts split into two halves? If you lack the strength and skill for war, my heart should not be broken for nothing. If this witless sorcerer breaks the pact he swore before God, why should you fear breaking the treaty? He has poured the dust of ruin on his own head. Now I will bring the demon Puladvand's head down from the high heavens to the dust.' Then, like a lion, he stretched out his claws and seized the chest and shoulders of that battling monster. He lifted him over his neck and slammed him to the ground, praising the Creator all the while. A great shout rose from the army of Iran; the drummers began to strike up their march. The blast of the trumpet climbed into the clouds, the roar of flute and cymbal and bell. They cried that Puladvand was lifeless now, writhing on the dust like a broken snake. Rostam supposed that Puladvand had no sound bone left whole in his body. He set his brave Rakhsh moving forward and left that dragon of a body lying there. When the lion-hearted hero came before the ranks, Puladvand shot up like an arrow. He fled toward Afrasiyab, his heart full of blood and his face streaming. He lay stretched out on the dark earth; for a while that fighter lost all his senses. When mighty Rostam saw that Puladvand still lived, he saw the whole plain scattered with the enemy army. His heart grew heavier; he drove his troops on and called the world-tested Gudarz to his side. He ordered them to loose a rain of arrows, to make the sky like a spring cloud. On one side Bizhan, on one side Giv, and the world-seeking Roham and brave Gorgin. You would have said they had kindled a fire and were burning the world down with their blades. Puladvand said to his army: 'Now, without throne, without treasure, without high renown,' Why must a head be thrown to the wind? Why must we keep speaking of battle? He drove the army before him and moved on, while Rustam tore the bonds of his life apart. Piran said to Afrasiab: the face of the world has turned into a sea of blood. Did I not say I would not stand against Rustam? There is no safe place to sit in this land. The blood of youth that was spilled beyond escape has wounded our hearts in this fierce fight. Why linger, when no one can stand beside you? The demon Pulad is gone, and his army has fled. Surely the Iranians number more than a hundred thousand armored horsemen. At their front stands Rustam, the lion-tamer; the ground is soaked in blood, the air thick with arrows. From sea and plain, from lowland and mountain, the army poured in, all as one. When no fighting men were left, we tested the demons in such warfare, such combat, and such uproar. Leave the army lined up in ranks like this, and take your chosen few toward the sea.

The commander did what he judged best, and saw that his hand was too short for this battle. Now that Rustam has come, I have no ground to stand on; there is no choice but to retreat before him. I must go all the way to the borders of China, if there is any patch of earth left to hide me. They left his banner behind, and he himself fled, hurrying toward China and beyond. Army closed against army, and the ground turned dark like a black storm cloud. Then mighty Rustam called out: put aside the spear, the arrow, and the bow. Fight instead with sword and mace; show your skill hand to hand, up close. The leopard turns fierce with rage only when it sees its prey at its very pillow. The whole army raised a war cry and threw down their spears among the hills. The plain and the battlefield became so choked that no one could find a path through the slain. One group came begging for mercy; another fled in terror down the road. Like a flock without a shepherd they were ruined and scattered; the whole plain was strewn with bodies, without arm or shoulder. Rustam said: enough of killing, for each moment belongs to someone else. One moment fate brings a load of poison, the next it brings the cure. Take off all your battle gear, and do more and more good deeds. Why fix your heart on this passing lodging, where even the wise cannot tell one from five? One moment life comes at you like a demon in war, the next like a bride full of scent and color. Choose a life free of harm and a cup of wine; who would call a curse better than a blessing? Enjoy what you have and carry no grief, for the world is a passing inn and we are only travelers. Do not hurt anyone for the sake of coin; as long as you can, do no wrong to another. On that plain he searched out whatever was there, all the untouched gold and jewels. He sent it all to the king: the servants, the horses, the swords, and the crowns. He took his own share, keeping the diadems, the musk, and the ambergris. The rest of the spoils from that battlefield he divided among his troops. He sought word of the king of Turan; they searched everywhere, on roads and off them. But no trace of Afrasiab appeared, not on mountain or sea, not on dry land or water.

So many camels and herds were captured that the army had more mounts than it could count. They loaded up the spoils of Turan's army: precious weapons, crown, and throne. The war horns roared and wailed; they rang the bells and beat the brazen drums. They turned their faces toward the land of Iran, an army radiant with color and pride. When word of Rustam reached the king, a joyous clamor rose from city and court. From Iran the drums thundered to the clouds: the lord of the mace and tiger-hide has come. There was such rejoicing across the world, celebrated among the humble and the great alike. The king's heart became like highest paradise, and he kept praising the Creator. He ordered the elephants brought forward, and Kaykhosrow rose up from his seat. The whole realm was decked out in splendor: wine, music, minstrels, and treasure. Drums and pipes sounded from every direction as the king of the world came forth. From end to end the elephants' backs were heaped with musk, wine, and saffron. The mahout wore an ornate crown on his head, with earrings hanging from his ears. They scattered great heaps of saffron and coins, sifting musk and amber over everything. Across the whole city the minstrels' music sounded, players seated on every side, end to end. The world was so full of joy and justice that it seemed life itself was endless and glad. When mighty Rustam saw the proud crown, he found the whole world ringing with sound. He dismounted and bowed low before the king, and Khosrow asked about his long journey. The king held him tight in his arms, and stayed that way for a long while. The king of the world kept blessing that famous sage and champion. He ordered the elephant-bodied hero to mount, and held his hand all along the way. He kept saying: Why did you stay away so long, when your absence set our hearts on fire? Tus and Faribarz, Gudarz and Giv, Rahham and Gorgin and the brave warriors, came along the road to the king's palace, to that renowned court. The king sat upon the golden throne, with famed Rustam beside him. Faribarz, Gudarz, Rahham, and Giv sat down with the noble warriors. Kaykhosrow spoke of the battlefield, of the toil and struggle against Turan's army. Gudarz said to him: O king, the tales of this war are long. First there should be wine and cups and rest; then you can ask about this matter properly. They set out the table, and the king laughed: You must have gone hungry on the road. At the table wine and minstrels were brought, and he began questioning them from end to end, about Afrasiyab and about Pouladvand, about the wrestling and the whirling lasso. Gudarz said to him: O king, no mother ever bore a rider like Rustam. Whether a demon or a dragon comes at him, none escapes his long, reaching grip. A thousand blessings on the king, and especially on this famous lionheart. He told what Rustam had done to Pouladvand: the wrestling, the tricks, the schemes and snares. How he brought down the demon and slew him, all the fighting and struggle and quest for vengeance. When the demon fell to the dust and lost consciousness, a cry rose up from the demon warriors. When that proud demon came back to his senses, a sudden howl broke from him. At once he mounted and fled, escaping from Rustam by the skin of his life. The crowned king grew so glad at that tale that it was as if he had raised his head above the palace roof. He answered thus: O champion, you are wise and clear-minded and full of light. Whoever has reason as his teacher, the turning of time will keep him safe. May the evil eye stay far from this champion; may his whole life be a feast. For a whole week he sat with wine in hand, and crown and throne rejoiced in him. To the sound of pipe and harp they sang the deeds of Rustam in a heroic song. For a whole month the mighty hero stayed near the king, cup in hand at his side. Then he said to the king: O gifted and renowned crowned one, the world-ruler is wise and good-natured, yet I long to see Zal's face. The king of the world opened his treasury of precious things he had kept hidden away: rubies, crowns, and rings, gold coins and garments of fine Shushtar cloth, servants with diadems and earrings, curly-haired ones with silver cheeks, golden trays full of musk and aloeswood, two golden slippers and a golden mace, inlaid with royal gems, as befitted a king. The king sent all this to mighty Rustam, and rode two stages of the road at his side. When Khosrow grew weary from the long road, he stopped, and Rustam bowed before him. He bade him farewell and set off from Iran, hurrying gladly toward Zabulistan. The whole world came into the king's rightful hands, and everything turned just as he wished. I have finished this battle of Kamus too; it is long, and not one bit of it is missing. If a single word of the tale were left out, my soul would be a place of mourning. My heart grew glad at the tale of Pouladvand, which added a fresh iron link to the chain of iron.