Part 3: The Muster of Champions

The turning heavens moved on through this too, and the sun showed its face rising from the constellation of the Ear of Corn. From his court he summoned all the priests and spoke to them of many necessary matters. For two weeks he held open audience, and had a fresh register bound up. He ordered the priest, keeper of the rolls, to record the names of both the lowly and the great. First, from the kin of Kavus the king, a hundred and ten commanders set out. He wrote down the warriors' names as they deserved, each one fitting for a champion. Faribarz, son of Kavus, was their leader, for he was a close kinsman of the new king. He chose eighty men of the house of Nozar, all mace-bearers and all soldiers. Zarasp was their commander and guardian, who tended to their every need in battle. He wore the crown of the kings and was the son of Tus, lord of the sword, the club, and the war-drum. The third was Gudarz son of Keshvad, by whose counsel the army thrived. He had seventy-eight sons and grandsons, brave men of the mountains and horsemen of the plain. He made the crown and throne of the kings shine, and raised high the Kaviani banner. Sixty-three came from the line of Gazhdaham, and their chief among the great was Gostaham. From Milad's kin came a hundred horsemen, headed by the victorious Gorgin. From the line of Lavadeh, eighty-five, battle-horsemen and guardians of the treasury. Their protector was Barteh, the man who covered them in the thick of the fight. Thirty-three chiefs came from the line of Pashang, whose king in the day of war was Ruyin. In battle he rode before the war-drum, guardian of the warriors and son-in-law of Tus. From Shiruy's kin, seventy men who were heroes on the day of combat. Their choicest, most renowned warrior was Farhad, an anvil of steel in the hour of battle. From Garazeh's line, a hundred and five heroes; he handed their command to him as well. Margraves and champions besides these, chiefs and nobles worthy of praise. There were so many glorious, splendid warriors that the priest could no longer keep count. They wrote all their names in the king's register, to have them ready when the time came. He ordered them to leave the city, to move from the court out onto the plain and open field. At the start of the month the trumpets should sound and the Indian cymbals ring out. All should turn toward the war with Turan, in high spirits and full of festive cheer. They laid their heads on the ground before him, and one by one called down blessings. Saying: We are your servants and the kingship is yours; from Taurus to the House of Pisces, all is yours. Where the loose horses had been grazing, he brought the whole herd at once to the army camp. He ordered that whoever could throw a lasso, and stood firm and iron-bodied in battle, should cast his rope before the drove and bring the heads of those swift steeds under his knot. He opened the treasury of gold coins and said: a king should not hide his treasure from the great. In a ruler's time of giving and of vengeance, a treasury of gold becomes cheap in his eyes. For brave men we lift up treasure and the throne; we raise a tree whose crown reaches the sun. Why should we grieve over the turning days, when treasure exists only to serve the people? The nobles of Iran sat before him from the gathering, every one of them, man by man. He brought a hundred robes of Roman brocade, every one worked over with jewels and gold thread. Of fine silk, woven cloth, and delicate brocade too, and in their midst a goblet filled with gems. They set these before the exalted king, and the king of the world spoke to his army thus: This is the price for the priceless head of Palashan, that savage, dragonlike warrior, whom Afrasiab calls his champion, and whose vigilance robs sleep of its fill. Whoever brings his head, sword, and horse swift as dust to our camp on the day of battle wins this. At once Bizhan, son of Giv, sprang to his feet and girded himself to kill that dragon. He took up all the robes and the golden goblet, and the gems that filled the goblet as well. He blessed the king again and again: may you be joyful as long as time endures. From there he went and took his seat, still holding that jeweled goblet in his hand. Then the king commanded his treasurer to bring two hundred gold-embroidered robes, a hundred of fine silk and brocade, a hundred of delicate silk, and two rose-cheeked girls with belts bound at the waist. He said: I will give this gift to the one, and after that I will give him even more, who brings me the crown of Tazhav, whether to me or before this famous gathering, the crown that Afrasiab set upon his head, calling him vigilant and of blessed lineage. Once more Bizhan, son of Giv, leapt up quickly, he who in battle moved like rising smoke. He reached out and seized those gifts, and the whole gathering was left in wonder at him. He offered many blessings and sat down glad: may the world flourish under Kaykhosrow. The king ordered ten belted servants and ten choice horses with golden saddles, and ten adorned veiled women; the high priest brought forth all these treasures. The vigilant shepherd-king said: these horses and all these beautiful ones, are for the one who makes Tazhav turn tail. Anyone who lacks the heart of a lion has no claim to them. On the day of battle he has a servant girl whose voice is enough to tame a leopard. Her face like spring, her figure tall as a cypress, her waist slender, her walk graceful as a pheasant. A moon-faced girl named Espanuy, jasmine-bodied, heart-stealing, and scented with musk. When a sword finds her, no one should strike, for such a face would be a pity to harm. Whoever hooks his belt around her waist should carry her off held close to his chest. Bizhan set his hand upon her likewise and brought her before the victorious king. He began to praise the king of the world and to pray to the Creator of all. The great monarch was gladdened by him and said: You, illustrious and mighty man, May no champion like you ever side with the enemy; may your shining spirit never leave your body. Then the ruler of the world told his treasurer: Bring ten golden cups from the hoard, with sweet fragrance set in those golden cups, and ten of raw silver bearing six gems, one cup full of musk made of yellow ruby, and another of turquoise and lapis lazuli, agate and emerald poured over them, all blended with musk and rosewater, a girded servant, ten male slaves, and ten precious horses with golden bridles. He said: This gift belongs to the one who has the strength in his body on the day of battle with Tazhav, and brings that man's head to this court, laying it before the valiant army. Giv and Gudarz struck hands together, and in the midst of battle that champion girded himself. The precious beauties and all the wealth were brought before him, adorned. He kept praising the monarch: May crown and signet never exist without you. After that the king ordered the treasurer: Set ten golden cups before the throne, pour gold coins, musk, and gems over them, and add a royal crown with a belt. He said: This gift belongs to the one who spares no toil in pursuit of fame and treasure, who will go from here to Kaseh Rud and give his greetings to the soul of Siyavash, he will see there a mountain of firewood, taller than ten lengths of a lasso. He wanted that no one tread that road, that no one cross from Iran into Turan. A brave man from Iran must go and set all of Kaseh Rud ablaze, so that if a battle is fought there, the army will not be left without firewood. Giv said: This is my quarry; setting the mountain aflame is my task. If an army comes, I will not fear the fight; in battle I turn the vulture into a feast. I will make the road easy for the army through the snow, and fill the hearts of the Turks with dread of it. The king gave Giv all he had asked, and said to him: You, famous soldier of the army, may the bright crown never be without your sword; so may it stay, as no temple should be without its idol. He ordered a hundred bolts of colorful silk to be brought at once from the treasurer. From the treasury he sought a hundred lustrous pearls, so pure you would think they were drops of frozen water. He brought out five servants from behind the curtain, their curling heads hidden beneath crowns. He said: This gift belongs to the one whose pure soul is ruled by wisdom, one who is brave, clear-minded, and eloquent, who will not turn his face from a lion in battle, who will carry a message to Afrasiab and not let fear bring tears to his eyes, and who will bring back the answer to me. Who among this famous gathering knows such a man? Gorgin son of Milad reached out his hand and girded himself to go on that mission. He brought the servant and the gold-embroidered robe along with the royal jewels. He blessed the king and said: May wisdom be a companion to Khosrow's soul. When the face of the earth turned black as a raven's wing, a lamp rose over the crest of the mountains. The commander went back to his own palace, and the warriors returned to their own homes. He called for wine and for the minstrels, and all night long he scattered gold and jewels. When daylight turned the mountains pale as amber, the crowing of the roosters rose into the clouds. The mighty Rostam came to the king's court; the talk turned to the Turks, the crown, and the throne. Zavareh and Faramarz were there with him, and they spoke of matters great and small. Rostam said to the king of the earth: You, renowned and blessed one, there was a city in Zabolestan, part of the land that belonged to Tur. Manuchehr cleared it of the Turks; it is a fine and prosperous place. When Kavus grew weak-hearted and old, its name of kingship and its glory slipped away from him. Now they carry tribute and taxes to Turan and pay no heed to the king of Iran. There are many war elephants and much treasure in that borderland, and the innocent suffer at their hands, from all the killing, plundering, and raiding, and from lifting their heads to pay tribute to the Turks. Now the kingship over Iran is yours; the strength of the elephant and the claws of lions are yours. A great army must now be sent, led by a formidable champion, so that they either bring their tribute to the king, or bring their heads to this court. When we have taken that whole borderland, we will bring defeat upon the land of Turan. The king gave Rostam this reply: May you live forever, for this is indeed the right course. Consider how many soldiers you need, and choose from this renowned army. The land that borders your frontier: its worth is measured by your value. Give Faramarz a heavy force, as many warriors as the fight requires. The task will open up under his hand, and his grip will reach even the jaws of crocodiles. At this the champion's face lit up with joy, and he called down many blessings on the king. Khosrow ordered the master of the court to have the cook lay out a feast. He brought wine and summoned the musicians, and sat entranced by the nightingale's song. The chiefs, with Faramarz and the mighty Rostam, drank their wine among the jasmine flowers. The flute cried out and the harp roared, while in their hands were bunches of fragrance and color. All with fresh faces and glad hearts, freed from sorrow and grief. They spoke of all kinds of things, and told many tales of past kings. That whoever rules with justice will be happy for his deeds in both worlds. But the unjust king in this world is condemned in the eyes of the great. He leaves behind an evil name on earth, and in the end meets a bad fate before God. For one whose only trade is justice, no one is happier in both worlds. When the bright sun rose above the mountain, the singer grew weary of telling tales. The drums sounded from the royal court, and they drew up their ranks before the palace. They fastened the bronze drum onto the elephant, and the blast of the great war horn rose up. They set the throne upon the elephant's back, and that royal tree came into full bloom. The king came and took his seat on the elephant, a jeweled crown set upon his head. A royal collar studded with gems, and two earrings hanging from his crown. He struck the signal ball on the great elephant's back, and the earth turned into a dark blue sea. From swords and maces, from war drums and dust, the earth went black and the sky turned deep blue. You would think the sun was caught in a net, or the arch of heaven had bent down into water. The bright eye could not see the reins; the sky and stars could not see the spears. As a wave rises from a still sea, the army poured in, troop after troop. They carried the royal tent from the palace out to the plain, and the sky was dazed by the uproar. The elephant strode through the middle of the army, decked with golden bells and golden bridle. A signal ball in the cup in the king's hand, while the army's roar reached to the planet Saturn. When that famous king, up on the elephant's back, struck the ball on the cup and fastened his belt. For a king it was not fitting to do anything but sit at the gate of the sovereign. Such was the mark of kingship among those famous, proud rulers. He sat upon an elephant in the wide plain, so that the army might pass before him. First came Fariborz as the vanguard, passing before the new lord of the world. With his mace, his crown, and golden boots, and behind his back a banner bright as the sun. He rode a chestnut steed, a lasso coiled and hung upon his saddle straps. He moved with wind, with grandeur and glory, his troops all drenched in silver and gold. The king of the world blessed him: 'May greatness and the glory of nobles be yours.' 'May your fortune triumph in every task, and may you return victorious and glad.' Next came Gudarz, son of Keshvad, clad in armor and bearing a mace of steel. Behind him a lion adorned his banner, for he fought with mace and with sword. On his left marched brave Roham, and on his right the proud Giv. Behind them the hero Shidush with his banner; the ground turned purple with its lion emblem. Behind that proud one rode a thousand rein holders with their long spears. A black banner with a wolf's image was behind Giv among the troops. The banner of world seeking Roham bore a leopard, its top raised as high as the clouds. Then Bijan came with another banner, an angel figure crowned in gold upon it. He had seventy eight grandsons and sons; the wide plain could scarcely hold them all. Each of them carried a banner of different color; the world turned red and yellow and purple. You would say the whole earth lay beneath him, the heads of chieftains under his sword. When he drew near the king's throne, he offered many blessings on the crown and seat. He blessed Gudarz and the king, and likewise Giv and all his army. Behind Gudarz came Gostaham, the vigilant son of Gazhdaham. In battle he held a spear in his grip; the bow and the poplar arrow were his companions. The arrowheads from his arm were like a prison, piercing the heart of stone and anvil. He came with a thick, well ordered army, full of maces and swords and rich spoils. A moon shaped banner rose above him, its shining top lifted into the clouds. He called down blessings on the king, and the king of Iran was gladdened by him. Then came Gostaham and sharp eared Ashkash, men of strength, courage, wit, and intelligence. A mace bearer from the line of Homay; on any road he took, he stood firm on his feet. His army was made of Koch and Baluch warriors, hungry for battle, their war cries raised high. No one in the world ever saw them turn their backs, nor ever saw them expose even a finger to the enemy. They raised a banner marked with the figure of a leopard, and from that banner war itself seemed to rain down. They praised the king again and again, rejoicing at the good turn of fortune. From atop his elephant, Kaykhosrow looked out and saw that host stretched across two full miles. It pleased him greatly, and he gave thanks for his wakeful fortune and his lucky throne. After them came a mighty army, all famous warriors clad in armor. An army whose sight left the world ruling king glad at heart and full of goodwill. Chosen to follow behind was Farhad, through whom Khosrow's army stood strong and thriving. Like a nurturing providence, he stood ready to help in every place and every task. Above him flew a banner bearing the figure of a deer, and under that deer's shade rode his men. His troops all held Indian swords, wore Sogdian mail, and sat on Turkish saddles. When the king saw this fresh array and new command, he called down many blessings on the new sovereign. Gorazeh, chief of the line of the Givs, went forward eager for combat and snarling like a beast. Behind him a banner bore the figure of a boar; his army was skilled with the lasso and ready for battle. War riders and men of the open field, he praised them richly and passed on by. He rejoiced, for what pleased him was the coils of lassos hanging from their saddles. Storming behind him came Zangeh of Shavaran, moving forward with brave and mighty men. A banner behind him bore the figure of a phoenix; his army was like a moving mountain uprooted from its place. Everyone who came from the city of Baghdad, armed with spear and sword and steel, all passed beneath the phoenix banner, while the commander kept his place upon the elephant. Zangeh gave the king much praise for his stature and height, his sword and his ring of office. Behind the commander came Faramarz, a man of splendor, bearing a mace and worthy of honor, with war drums and elephants and a heavy army, all battle seekers and mighty men, from Kashmir, from Kabul, and from Nimruz, all proud men who light up the world. His banner was like his own valiant father's, for no one could ever surpass Rostam. It bore seven heads, like the heads of a dragon; you would think a bound beast had broken free. He came forward like a tree laden with fruit and pronounced a blessing on the king. The king's heart grew glad at Faramarz, and he recalled much good advice with him. He told him: a man raised by the mighty Rostam will always hold his head high in any gathering. You are the son of brave-hearted Rostam, from the line of Sam and Nariman. Now all the Indians are yours; from Kanauj to Sistan, all is yours. If they do not seek war with you, do not make their lives dark and narrow. Wherever you are, be a friend to the poor, and be generous with your own people. Look carefully to see who truly loves you, who is wise, and who eases your sorrows. Act with goodness and do not say 'tomorrow,' for crookedness only brings regret in the end. I have given you this kingship; hold it, and do not wage war without reason. In your youth do not chase after treasure, and do not inflict suffering on anyone unjustly. Do not seek safety in this deceitful world; at times it is bright as amber, at times dark as ebony. What matters is that your name endures with honor; take care that you leave no misery in the world. My days and yours will both pass; the turning heavens count out every breath. Keep your heart glad, your body and soul sound; then look and see what else is worth pursuing. May the world's Creator be pleased with you, and may the heart of your enemy be full of grief. When the young ruler heard this advice, he dismounted from his swift horse. He kissed the ground and bowed low, then turned his head toward the long road ahead. He gave many blessings to the new king: 'May you grow greater each moment, like the new moon.' The mighty Rostam rode two leagues beside him, his mind burning at the thought of parting. He taught him of feasting, of war, and of wisdom, wishing to send him off with a day of joy. Then, full of sorrow, he turned back and came from the plain toward his pavilion. The commander dismounted from his fierce elephant and climbed onto a swift-running steed. He came proudly to the pavilion, his head full of pride and his heart full of plans. When Rostam arrived, he called for wine and poured it into a great goblet. He said, 'Let today's joy be enough for you; no wise person speaks of tomorrow.' Where now are Salm and Tur, and where is Fereydun? All have vanished, leveled with the dust. We rush about, we toil, we heap up treasure, and in our hearts we crush our own desires. In the end, each one's share is only dust; no one escapes it. Let us pass the dark night with a cup of wine; when dawn comes, the day will run its course. Let us give the order for Tus to sound the reed pipe, and let the drums roll with horn and kettledrum. Let us see toward whom the turning hand of the heavens leans in love in this war. We strive, but what good is our striving? What was meant to be was so from the very start.