Rustam in the Land of Demons

From there he set his face upon the road, like anyone searching for the way ahead. He rode on swiftly until he reached a place where he saw no light in all the world. The night was dark as an African's face; no star was visible, no sun, no moon. You would say the sun itself was chained, and every star caught in a snare. He gave Rakhsh his rein and pressed forward; in the blackness he could see neither height nor stream. At last he came out into light, and saw earth soft as silk, all fresh green shoots. A world grown young again from old age, all grass and running waters. His clothing clung to his body like water, drenched; he longed for rest and sleep. He pulled the tiger-skin coat from his body; his helmet was soaked in sweat within. He spread it out beneath the sun and hurried toward sleep and rest. He easily slipped the bridle from Rakhsh's head and set him loose in the young crop of the field. When helmet and coat had dried, he put them on; he made the grass his bed like a lion. He slept and rested his weary body, though he still worried for Rakhsh and for himself. When the field-keeper saw the horse in the green, he ran toward it with a scolding tongue. He came at Rustam and Rakhsh and struck the hero's foot a sharp blow with his stick. When the mighty-bodied man woke from sleep, the keeper cried, 'You devil!' 'Why did you turn your horse loose on my crop, and take what cost you no labor to earn?' His words made the sharp-witted man furious; he sprang up and seized both the man's ears at once. He pressed and tore them clean off at the root, saying not a word to him, good or bad. Quickly the keeper snatched up his ears, wailing, and stunned by Rustam's strength. In that region there was a chieftain named Owlad, a bold and glory-seeking youth. The keeper came before him screaming, holding his two ears in his hand, drenched in blood. He said, 'A man like a black demon, armored in a leopard-skin coat, an iron cap for a helmet; the whole plain from end to end is under Ahriman, and a dragon lies asleep upon his armor; I went to drive his horse out of the crop, but he spared me neither for the horse nor for the field: the moment he saw me he sprang up, said nothing, tore off both my ears and lay back down to sleep.' When Owlad heard this he turned back at once, coming out with a heart smoking from pain. He would see for himself what kind of man this was, and why he had done such harm to the keeper. Owlad had been roaming the meadow with his nobles, out hunting. When he heard this marvel from the field-keeper, at the hunting ground he had seen the tracks of a lion. He turned his rein with his proud companions toward where the giant's trail was found. When the warrior drew near and hemmed him in, the mighty one turned toward Rakhsh. He mounted Rakhsh, drew his gleaming blade, and came on like thundering storm-cloud. Owlad said to him, 'What is your name? What kind of man are you, and who is your king and protector? You should not have passed along this road, the road of fierce and warlike demons.' Rustam replied, 'My name is Cloud! (a cloud that carries a lion's strength; it rains down spears and blades, and lays the heads of chiefs low.) If my name should ever reach your ear, your breath and soul, your blood and heart would freeze. Have you never heard, in any gathering, of the mighty warrior of the lasso and bow? Any mother who bears a son like you, we call a shroud-maker if not a mourner. You have ridden against me with this army; keep talking, you scattered from a domed roof.' He drew the crocodile of doom from its sheath and hung his rough leather saddle-strap before him. Like a lion falling upon lambs, the whole battlefield grew dark with the slain. With a single blow he easily struck off two heads at once, getting four from a single body's worth. He brought the chiefs to the dust with his blows, spreading the heads of proud men beneath his feet. Gate and plain filled with the dust of riders; they scattered across mountains and caves. Rustam roamed like an enraged elephant, a lasso of sixty coils on his arm. As Rakhsh drew close to Owlad, the day turned dark as night for him. Rustam flung his long lasso, and the proud head fell into its loop. He dismounted, bound Owlad's two hands, threw him down before him, and mounted again. He said to him, 'If you speak the truth, I will find neither head nor tail of crookedness in you. Show me the place of the White Demon, and the dwelling of Pulad-Ghandi and Bid. The place where King Kavus is held, and where the one who laid these evils lives. Show it and make the truth plain, and do not bring any deceit into the matter. Then I will turn this throne, this crown, and this heavy mace away from the king of Mazandaran. You will be the ruler over this land and realm, if you use no crookedness at all.' Owlad said to him, 'Empty your heart of anger and open your eyes wide. Do not vainly rob my body of life; you will get from me whatever you want. I will show you the house of Bid and the White Demon, just as you promised. I will tell you, one by one, the towns and roads to where King Kavus is held. From here to King Kavus is a hard hundred leagues on foot. And from there to the demons is another hundred leagues, along a difficult, evil road. It runs between two hundred wondrous pits, more than any measure can reckon. This terrible place lies between two mountains, so high the huma bird cannot fly over it. Twelve thousand warrior demons stand guard by night over those pits. Pulad-Ghandi is their commander; Bid and Sanjeh are their keepers. You will find each one huge as a mountain; his chest, shoulders and neck span ten ropes' length. For you, with such a neck, hand and rein, wielding mace, blade and lance, with such height and stature and skill in war, it is not wise to seek battle with a demon. Beyond them lies stony ground and plain that not even a wild gazelle dares to cross. Past that is a river before you, more than two leagues wide. A demon named Kanarang guards it; all the fierce demons obey his command. On the far side, from Bozgush to Narm-Pay, a settlement stretches some three hundred leagues. From Bozgush to the king of Mazandaran the road is foul and the leagues are heavy. Riders scattered throughout that kingdom number, surely, three hundred thousand. And of war elephants there are twelve hundred, so many there is no room for them in the city. You cannot withstand it alone, even if you were made of iron; a demon's file would grind you down. Such an army, armed and armored, you will not find a single one of them downcast.' Rustam laughed at his words and said, 'If you go seeking the way with me, you will see what this one mighty-bodied man can do to that renowned host. By the power of victorious God, by fortune, and by a sharp sword and skill, when they see the strength of my chest and arm, and the blows of my mace in battle, from terror their sinews and skin will burn so that they can't tell rein from stirrup. Now show me the way to where King Kavus is, and set out on the trail.' He did not rest, dark night nor bright day, but rode on to the foot of Mount Espruz. To the very place where Kavus had led his army and where the sorcerer demons had ruined him. When half the dark night had passed, a clamor and roar of tumult rose from the plain. In Mazandaran they kindled fires and burned candles everywhere. The mighty one said to Owlad, 'What is that place where fires have flared to left and right?' 'That is the city of Mazandaran,' he said, 'where for two parts of the night they dare not sleep. That is the dwelling of Arzhang the Demon, where every hour rises a shout and a roar.' Then the warlike Rustam lay down to sleep; when the shining sun showed its face, he bound Owlad tight to a tree with the coil of his lasso. He slung his forefather's mace across the saddle and rode on, single-hearted and full of cunning.