Great War of Kay Khosrow with Afrasiyab

May God bless that king in whom the crown, the throne, and the royal ring take pride. His treasury groans from all his giving, while greatness grows taller with his name. From sea to sea his army stretches; the world lies beneath the glory of his crown. Master of fame, master of treasure, master of the sword, the armor, and the hardship of war. No gold remains in any mine on earth that his decree of generosity has not claimed. At the feast he pours out his treasure; when battle comes, he makes hardship plain to all. He brings the branch of faith and reason to fruit; his very thought nurtures wisdom with knowledge. In his planning he is beyond all harm, for his refuge has always been in God. When he seizes a frontier with his sharp sword, he raises up a day of judgment across the world. He takes from the enemy and gives to the friend; the victorious Lord is his helper. With that sword-wielding, jewel-scattering hand, he seeks nothing from the world but a lasting mark. At the feast the heavens call him an ocean; in battle, a lion with the face of the sun. The earth and water of the ground bear witness, and so does the fountain of the sun in the sky, that no king has been seen like him in war, nor in giving, striving, honor, and pride. If he mixed his love with anger, the very stars would flee his wrath. His body is mighty, and his army so vast that even the wind finds no path through its ranks. Behind his host march seven hundred great elephants, with the Lord of the world and Gabriel as his allies. He demands tribute from every chieftain, from every renowned man and every land. If they refuse the tribute, they surrender their country, along with its treasure, throne, and crown. Who would dare break his covenant, or turn his head away from his command? At the feast the world is bright because of him; in battle he is a mountain clad in mail. Abul-Qasim, that bold sovereign, who could snatch a wild ass from the lion's claws. The world-ruler Mahmud, who in combat drags the heads of the defiant into the dust. May he be king as long as the world endures; may his high star wear the moon as a crown. He is the ornament of the turning sky; at the feast he is the generous, giving cloud. He has wisdom, a good name, and justice; may the world never be without his rule and crown. He has an army, courage, treasure, and a minister; likewise battle and feast, wine and celebration. A carpet has been spread across the world whose pattern will never fade from sight. Where that carpet has its cushion and its couch is the seat of Nasr son of Ahmad. For through him the peace of kingship is secured; wisdom sits well in the minds of the renowned. No king has had a steward like him, in devotion to faith, in generosity, and in counsel. Ready in speech, open of heart, clean of hand, a servant of the God-worshipping king. Through that wise and just minister my scattered labor came at last to fruit. I wove together this ancient book, chosen from the record of the truthful, so that in my old age it would bear fruit for me, granting greatness, gold, and a crown. I had not seen a generous world-ruler, one shining upon the throne of kings. I kept watching for when there might appear a giver whose giving needs no key. Guardian of faith and guardian of the crown, the one who makes the diadem and ivory throne blaze. In the battle of brave men he was strong, and in reasoning why and how he was wise. So I passed sixty-five years like this, in poverty and a life of toil. When five years settled onto the sixty, I was on the downward slope, my head bowed low. My tulip-red face turned pale as straw, and the black of my musk-dark hair went white as camphor. By the time the year was fifty-seven, I grew feebler as my youth departed. Fereydun of the wakeful heart came alive again; time and the earth became his servants. He took this world through justice and giving; his crown rose higher than that of all kings. The record of his reign began to shine; may his root and stock endure forever. After my ear had heard that clamor, I bent my hearing toward that ringing sound. I bound this book to his name; may his end be all greatness. In the end the living body belongs to the dust, and the soul belongs to its pure origin. The same spear-bearing, just and generous king through whom art itself is revealed in the world, may he be my support in old age, the master of the sword, the crown, and the throne, master of India and master of China, master of the land of Iran and Turan, the handsome master of lofty spirit, far from him be all reproach and blame. At his voice the stone mountain splits apart, the crocodile in the sea and the leopard on land. Before his feast, gold and dust are the same; his heart feels no fear in giving. The world-ruler Mahmud, radiant as the sun, in battle a lion drawing his sword. May he free me from need of the world and grant me honor among the heroes. May his person and his throne endure forever, and the turning of fortune serve his heart's desire. Who in this world could truly praise him? Only one whom he praises dares to be heard. For the king is beyond guess and reckoning, like a crown set upon the brow of Jupiter. I have performed one act of service, my king, that will leave my memory alive in the world. Well-built structures crumble in the end from the rain and the burning of the sun. I have laid the foundation of a lofty palace of verse that neither wind nor rain can harm. Years will pass over this book, and everyone with a mind will read it, and will bless the world-ruling king, without whom may no one behold the seat of power. His own deeds are his praise; the whole world lies under the marks he has left. Since I lack the means to praise him fully, I offer my prayer to the dust of his feet. May the whole age live through him; may wisdom keep his throne shining. May his heart stay glad as joyful spring through all the turning of these days. Through him the assembly's heart is happy, victorious in every task and eloquent in every word. As long as the wheel of heaven keeps turning and Jupiter has its passage within it, may our king of kings live in glory and comfort, far from the evil eye and free of all want. Now, from here on, I will weave the ancient book from the words of the truthful. When I set before you the turning of the times, I need no teacher's counsel. When the battle of Kay Khosrow appears, you must hear wonders from me. In this tale I pour down like rain; I plant tulips even in solid stone. Now I have found a finer pen than the one with which I wove the heart of speech before. You who keep both eyes fixed on the test of life, at times in joy, at times in pain and rage, it is strange that under this deep-blue dome a heart should stay so full of scars and grief. So it has been for as long as time has turned; do not marvel as if it were something new. For one, the whole share is honey and sweetness, ease, luxury, and lofty fortune; for another, every year is pain and toil, a heart made narrow in this passing house. For one, the whole of his going is dread, now on the heights, now in the depths. This is how the age rears us; the pain of the thorn came out greater than the color of the rose. Whenever your years reach sixty, you must draw back your hand from wanting more. Few people pass beyond seventy; I have tested the turning of the wheel many times. And if a man passes it, all the worse; that kind of living is a thing to weep over. If your sixtieth year were a fisherman's net, the wise would find a way to slip free of it. We find no path to the turning sky, nor to the works of the Maker of sun and moon. However hard the world-ruler struggles and toils, galloping in vengeance, glorying in his treasure, he too must go to the other world, and all his striving will be left behind here. Take the measure from the tale of Kay Khosrow; take the world's old story as something fresh: how he sought vengeance for his father from his grandfather, by the sword, by cunning, and by craft. He killed his grandfather, yet did not remain here himself; the world no longer read out his decree. Such is the way of this passing house; strive so that you may stay far from suffering.

When the work of Piran son of Viseh was finished, the victorious king turned to another war. He gathered nobles from every side, and they set out with an army beyond counting. The blare of the war trumpet rose, and they pitched the royal tents across the plain. No place was left to sleep in the city, and no road left to walk on across the plain. They set a turquoise throne on an elephant's back, and the face of the world turned dark as indigo. The king took his seat on the throne, crowned; a great roar rose from the plain and the court. When that renowned king, mounted on the elephant, dropped the die in the cup and fastened his belt for battle, no other ruler was permitted to sit anywhere except at the king's own gate. Such was the mark of sovereignty for that famous king who tamed the proud. To every frontier where he had sent troops, he had given much counsel and advice. Men like Lohrasp and fierce-clawed Ashkash, who could snatch a crocodile from the deep sea, and that other famous one, Rostam the champion, admired, generous, and bright of soul. He ordered them to return to the court, every warrior who was brave and eager for battle. He opened the treasury and paid their wages, and often called to mind his father's soul. From that assembly he chose three men: eloquent, clear of heart, and skilled with the sword. Rostam, who was the great champion; Gudarz, keen of heart, that seasoned old wolf; and the third, the champion Tus of the golden boots, who carried the Kaviani banner. To every renowned and headstrong lord they wrote a letter in the Pahlavi tongue. He summoned envoys from the assembly, men who were eloquent, wise, and full of counsel, saying: victorious Kaykhosrow, from the elephant's back, has cast the die, and the world has darkened like indigo. May you have neither rest nor sleep, except to prepare for war against Afrasiab. When each lord who held a place in the kingdom had read that letter, a roar rose from the warriors of the world; the earth boiled and surged like the sea. The great ones of every land, with their armies, turned their faces toward the king's court. When an army for war had been made ready, with a famed warrior from every land, then he rode around the whole army and drew up the battlefield on every side. From that renowned host he chose thirty thousand sword-wielding horsemen, to stand with him in the center, all with hands washed in blood for battle. On one wing he placed Tus, along with Manushan of Khuzestan, the man of blessed counsel, who was king over the land of Khuzestan, with many renowned lords in golden crowns. There were also two men, both fierce in battle, like Guran, that army-blazing hero of the king. And braver still was Arash the fighter, victorious in every task, a breaker of armies. One of them was king over a whole land, and in battle fortune walked beside him. The other was the king of Kerman, who in war never let the thought of delay enter his heart. Like the wise Siya, king of Yemen, and also the lionhearted Iraj, mighty as an elephant, who was ruler over the city of Kabul, a world-keeper, watchful and commanding. Everyone who came from the line of Kaykobad, the great ones of wisdom and noble birth, like Shammakh Suri, king of the Suriyans, whoever girded himself for the fight, and below him the warrior Giveh, victorious in every task, a breaker of armies, who was ruler over the city of Davar, a world-conqueror, wise and devout. He set them at his own left hand, and made Delforuz the marshal of the troops. The great ones of the line of Pur, whose swords in the dark night struck cloud out of the wind. Everyone who came from the line of Zarasp, devoted servants of the blessed sacred fire, then Bizhan son of Giv, and Roham the hero, whom the king counted among the great. Like Gorgin son of Milad, and the champions of Rey, they all set out at once at the king's command. They guarded his rear, and raised their spears higher than the clouds. He gave the right wing to Rostam then, for alone he could shatter an army. Everyone who came from Zabolestan, whether lesser men or kin of Dastan, to them he handed the right flank then, seeking the honor and the array of war. He chose picked troops for the left wing, like the sun blazing from the sign of the Ram. The commander was Gudarz son of Keshvad, with Hajir, Shidush, and Farhad beside him. The great ones from Barda and Ardabil, who stood as troops before the world-keeper, they called upon commander Gudarz, and arrayed the left wing of his army. He ordered that before the center of the host they block the road with war elephants. They set howdahs upon the elephants' backs, and the ground turned into the dark blue Nile. A thousand of the brave men of the battle day he placed in the howdahs as archers. As guard for each elephant, three hundred riders, all of them fighters, all of them spearmen. From Baghdad the warrior champions, who stood with Zangeh son of Shavaran, picked troops from the champions of Balkh, he ordered forward with their crossbows. They stood on foot before the elephants, ready even if a mountain came at them two miles wide. Their arrows would pierce even a heart of stone; no one could withstand such wounds. The foot soldiers stood behind the elephants, holding spears nine cubits long with sharp, gleaming heads. Gilan shields were held out in front, while blood boiled up in the men's hearts. Behind the spearmen stood a line of infantry, shield bearers and archers who could pierce through armor. Behind them all were the mounted warriors, their quivers packed full of poplar arrows. From the east the king chose a select force: shield bearers in mail with Roman helmets. He gave Faribarz thirty thousand of the proudest, fiercest riders. With them went Takhvar, lord of the city of Dahestan, for whom fighting an enemy was an easy thing. From Baghdad and the proud men of Karkh he gave the order for the crossbow archers to rain down arrows at the front, filling the sky like clouds in spring. Nastuh the tireless was placed at Faribarz's side, for a great army stood beside him. There were nobles and battle tested commanders, riders and spearmen from the open plain. Their chief and leader was Zohir, who could snatch a deer from the very claws of a lion. He ordered him to join Nastuh, and the left wing of the king's army rose like a mountain. There was an army from Rome and Berber lands, and Goy, called the vanguard, was chief of that force. Thirty thousand horse and foot marched with the king's rear guard. Another army came from Khorasan, world seekers and shrewd judges of men. Manuchehr Arash was their protector, their commander when it was time to win renown. Another famous man was of the Grohkhan line, a ruler from the stock of Kay Qobad. His name was Shah Piruz, a bold commander who lit up the army's spirit. The king of the Gharchagan was like a lion, one who could bring down even a raging elephant. He set them under Manuchehr's command and made that noble the marshal of the host. There were the great men who came from Mount Qaf, arriving with boasting spears and swords. An army from the line of Fereydun and Jamshid, their hearts full of blood, from the stock of Zadsham. Thirty thousand swordsmen of this kind, world rulers from the royal line. This army he handed to Giv, son of Godarz, and every borderland's heart was gladdened by him. To back the commander Giv, alert and valiant champions rode out. He sent ten thousand to the right wing, brave riders wielding daggers. An army of ten thousand of the bold warriors, Godarz son of Kashvad led at the rear. Then Barteh the swordsman advanced steadily, with Kuhyar, into that gathering. Giv, in his bravery, became the war's champion, leading a proud army of valiant, gallant men. Zavara was the vanguard of this battle, with an army all newly equipped for war. At the very front stood Qaren, the fighter, first among the famous men of that company. He was placed so that between the two facing armies he would be the horseman who charges and calls for combat. After that, he said to Gostaham son of Gazhdaham: 'Stand paired at Qaren's side in the fighting.' He ordered Andaman, the son of Tus, to move about everywhere with elephants and war drums, so that he would stay the hand of injustice from anyone who did not worship God. No one should be left without food, and no cruelty should be allowed against anyone. The land was filled with wagons and oxen, driven forward to supply the men with food. Whatever was needed he would request from the king; in every matter he was the voice of the army. On every side he set out scouts and patrols, rousing the sleeping mind from its slumber. In every direction the reconnaissance men went out, keenly watching the affairs of the world. Wherever there was a mountain, he posted a lookout, and never left the army scattered. Through every mountain, cave, desert, and plain, scouting parties of the army roamed in all directions. Their reins were woven one into another, all of them holding their heads high for battle. None of them felt any fear or hardship, for the king carried his treasury along with him. In this way, once the king had arranged his army, he raised his royal crown up toward the heavens. The heart of the wicked man, along with the good-natured one, desired nothing but the pursuit of war.

The commander of Turan, beyond the Jaj river, sat calmly upon his ivory throne. Once again thousands upon thousands of troops stood ready with the tools of war. The men of Khallokh and their chiefs were gathered, all of them proud and defiant. On the frontier of Koroshan, whatever the land held, from the leaves of trees to crops and harvest, they devoured it all, fruit and foliage alike; the world itself began to long for death. The commander of the Turks was at Beikand, with many of his kin and allies around him. All the famous warriors of Machin and China were camped on the frontier of Koroshan. The world was crowded with pavilions and royal tents; there was no room left on the plain for another tent. The world-seeking and learned Afrasiab sat in Kondoz, eating and sleeping. He settled on that frontier because Fereydun had built the fortress of Kondoz there. In Kondoz a fire temple had been raised, and the whole Zand and Avesta were inlaid in gold. Its name was Kondoz in the old Pahlavi tongue, if you would listen to a heroic tale. Now the name Kondoz has become Beikand; the age has filled with chains and cunning tricks. Afrasiab was a grandson of Fereydun; he was in no hurry to leave Kondoz. He and his chosen ones sat on the plain; the heavens were dazzled by the size of his army. His royal enclosure was of Chinese brocade, and much treasure was kept within it. Inside the enclosure stood leopard-skin tents, in the fashion of Pashang, lord of the Turks. Within the tent a golden throne was set, its whole frame studded with jewels. On it sat the king of Turan's army, a mace in his grip and a crown on his head. Outside the corridor of the royal enclosure stood many banners of the great nobles. Each man's flag was planted at his own tent door, for his standing near the king was high. There were his brother and several warrior sons, the renowned among the king's own kin. He wanted them to come as reinforcements to the rear, to join Piran on that battlefield. At dawn a rider arrived like a whirlwind and repeated all of Piran's words. One after another the wounded arrived, weeping and heartbroken. Each of them recounted what he had seen, and the disaster that had struck them from Iran. About Piran, Lahhak, and Farshidvard, and those famous men of the day of battle, what had befallen the army because of them, what grief had come upon that battlefield. That very day Kaykhosrow arrived there and spread his army from one mountain to the other. Our whole army begged for mercy; the flock panicked at having no shepherd. When the king heard these words, he was stunned; his face went dark, and his eyes and heart went black with grief. Crying out, he came down from his ivory throne and flung his crown before the nobles. A wail of anguish rose from the army; the faces of the famous warriors turned pale with pain. They cleared the tent of strangers and gathered a council of kinsmen alone. Afrasiab wept from that sorrow, tearing his hair and pouring out tears. Bitterly he cried: 'This was my window on the world, my proud rider clad in bronze, the world-seeking Lahhak and Farshidvard, my horsemen and champions of the day of battle.' 'In this war no son remained to me, no brother; no nobles, no commander, no army are left.' He groaned and let out a cold sigh, and then he swore a mighty oath: 'By God, I renounce this throne and seat of power if my head ever wears a crown again. My robe shall be armor, and my throne a horse; my crown a helmet, and my orchard the spear. From now on I will not stroll and graze at ease, nor will I nurse and pamper the crown, unless I take revenge for those famous men of mine, my world-seekers, my wielders of the dagger. I will demand vengeance from ill-fated Kaykhosrow, so that the seed of Siyavash is wiped from the earth.' While he raged on in this outburst, news of Kaykhosrow reached him: that his army had reached the banks of the Jayhun and spread its troops across the whole face of the land. In that grief and mourning he summoned his army and spoke at length about Piran, about the blood of his brother Farshidvard, and of Ruyin and Lahhak, lions of battle. 'Now is the time for vengeance and for combat, to spill blood along with Giv and Gudarz. I carry hardship and love, grief and hatred, for Iran and for the king of the land of Iran.' The nobles of the Turks, Afrasiab's men, at his words filled their lashes with tears. They said: 'We are your servants, one and all; we bow our heads to your command and will. No mother bore men like Ruyin and Piran, nor one of noble stock like Farshidvard. If door and mountain and sea should run with blood, our length would become as wide as our breadth. Not one of us will turn back from this battlefield, if the Lord of the moon stands by us.' At this the heart of the Turkish king was refreshed, and the whole matter took on a new measure. He opened his treasury and gave out wages, his heart full of hatred and his head full of pride. Every herd he owned on plain and mountain he shared out among his whole army. From his sword-wielding champions the king chose thirty thousand worthy of the field of war. He sent them toward sunlit Balkh, giving them much counsel and advice. There Gostaham son of Nozar stood firm, with bright hearted horsemen to guide the way. He picked another army, thirty thousand riders, brave men ready for battle. He sent them to the Oxus to cross over, to face the river's surface in boats. So that in the dark night, unprepared, no raid could come at them from Iran. He sent troops out on every side and devised many schemes at every turn. Such was the command of the pure God: that the tyrant king should perish. In the dark night he sat with the wise, with worldly seasoned counselors and priests. They talked with him of every kind of plan, weighing the world from left to right. In the end they all agreed the king should march his army across the Oxus. He ordered Qarakhan, his eldest son, to come before his father. In manhood the son stood in his father's place: in stature, in bearing, in wisdom and judgment. He handed him half of all that army, the seasoned men and the famous champions. He ordered him to stay in Bukhara, to be for his father a mountain of granite at his back. To keep sending arms and troops without pause, and never let the camels of supply fail on the road. He led the army out from Baykand, roaring on to the bank of the Oxus river. The troops lined the whole riverside; he brought a thousand boats and skiffs. In one week the boats crossed the water; the army covered every mountain and plain. With the trunks of elephants and the roar of lions, the Oxus crossings filled with breath and thunder. The water vanished beneath the boats; the army marched into the Amu desert. Then came Afrasiab's own army, and, set on war, crossed the water too. He scattered a swift rider in every direction, a shrewd man with a clear mind. 'Look,' he said, 'to left and right, and see how far the army stretches in length and breadth.' When the battle scout returned from every side, he spoke to the proud king this way: 'An army this large needs, on this plain of war, fodder, supplies, and a place to rest.' 'On one side lies the road to the Gilan sea, pasture for the horses and a place to camp.' 'On this side flow the Oxus and its running water; a clear minded man can bring in food.' 'In between lie sand and a broad plain; pitch the royal tents and pavilions toward the palace.' At that news his heart grew fresher; he came to the imperial court. The commander himself had seen the ways of time, yet he would not follow the teacher's advice. He arranged the center and the wings of the army, and the vanguard that watches for the enemy. He set the flanks and the rear, the baggage in its place, the left wing dressed even with the right. He arranged a royal camp, and at the center he set thirty thousand swordsmen. He looked to his own post at the heart of the line; he was the commander and the marshal of his troops. He ordered Pashang to come before him, a man with the grip and strength of a sea dragon. In all the army there was no warrior like him, no horseman his equal in any task. He would spur his horse and seize a leopard by the tail, tearing it apart with the force of his battle. He carried an iron spear, and in the fight he could hurl it clear over a mountain. His name was Pashang, but his father called him Shideh, for Shideh shone like the radiant sun. For the day of war the king gave him a hundred thousand proud and defiant horsemen. He gave the left wing to Jahn and said, 'May a lucky star stand beside you everywhere.' He was to guard Pashang's back and never turn his head, even if the clouds rained down stones. He handed troops to Kahila for battle; and Ilay the champion was even swifter. He was a grandson of the world ruler Afrasiab, one who could snatch the meat from between lions. The two were fighting horsemen of Turan, each of them a mountain in courage. For the right wing he chose an army so vast that the sun vanished from the world beneath it. Qarakhan, the fourth son, girded his belt and came to stand before his father. He gave him thirty thousand Chigil Turks, horsemen fit and ready for war. Riders of Taraz and Ghuzz and Khallukh, another thirty thousand seasoned horsemen, whose commander was the fifth son, a renowned and battle hungry champion. They called him the hero who seizes the day, for in battle he could throw his sword and arrow over a mountain. Damur and Jarnjash went with him too, riding swiftly to aid the proud Jahn. Thirty thousand champions and warriors set out, the daggers of battle in their hands. Their commander was the world tried Nastuh, and the brave Pashang was their protector. Another thirty thousand Turkoman heroes set out with mace and arrow and bow. Their general was the war seeking Aghrirath, who could turn a whole stream red with blood. From those renowned men the king chose thirty thousand swordsmen for the day of battle. Their commander was the elephant bodied Garsivaz, world seeker and chief of that gathering. He gave him the war elephants and the marshal's post, leadership of the notables and the rearguard of the host. After that he chose ten thousand of his heroes, men who never grow weary of war. He ordered them to stand between the two lines, ready at the front of the battlefield, hands to the fray. They would send their horses scattering against the enemy army, to break the heart and the backbone of the Iranians. The rear of the army faced west; when night came, they blocked the road with elephants. The world-lighting commander spoke: the army keeps its eyes fixed on the south.

When the king of the world learned the truth from the reports of his alert scouts, about the Turks and Afrasiyab's movements, that he had brought his army to the river's near bank, and dragged a force this way from the Oxus, so vast that the world's sand and stone vanished beneath it, when the king heard this, he summoned his champions and told them all that had to be said. He chose an army of warriors, the nobles of Iran, just as was fitting, men who had tasted much of the world's turmoil and bitterness, to go and aid Gostaham son of Nozar at Balkh. He ordered Ashkash to lead troops, elephants, and a treasury of coins toward Zam, so that no enemy force could close in from behind and ruin the plans of Iran's lions. After that he mounted all his champions, struck the brazen war drum and marched the army out. He advanced with judgment, care, and patience, knowing that rashness in war brings regret. When the commander reached the open desert, he saw the enemy's proud advance, their gear and troops. The army's path lay toward Khwarazm; every color of the plain spoke of battle. Dehestan lay to the left, the water to the right, the sand between them, and ahead stood Afrasiyab. When the sun rose from the sign of the Ram, it adorned the whole face of the earth. The Turkish commander saw the enemy force, blew the brazen trumpet and drew up his ranks. The world filled with the sound of horns and soldiers; every man put on his iron helmet. When Khosrow saw his grandfather's army, the king's heart filled with cunning strategy. He himself, with Rostam, Tus, Gudarz, and Giv, and many renowned heroes from the army, rode around that battlefield, surveying the desert, the dust, the trackless ground and the roads. The enemy force was larger than he had reckoned, with its war elephants and its brave men. He had a trench dug around his army and scattered scouts on every side. When night came he flooded the trench with water on the side facing Afrasiyab. So the two armies stood for two days and two nights, and from neither did a single lip move. You would have said the earth's face was iron, and the air too was armored with spears. On this side and that, men sat in the saddle, and the foot soldiers stood ranked in front just the same. You would have said the world had become a mountain of iron, and the sky's covering had turned to chainmail. The astrologers stood before the two kings, full of anxious thought, their star tables at hand, searching out the secrets of the heavens, with their instruments, to see whom fortune would favor. The sky itself stood watching that war, and the astrologers were utterly helpless. On the fourth day, when the situation grew tense, brave Pashang went before his father. He said to him: O master of the world, exalted over both the low and the great, under the sky no king matches your glory; neither moon nor sun wishes you ill. A mountain of iron turns to a sea of water if it so much as hears the name of Afrasiyab. The earth cannot bear the weight of your army, nor can the shining sun bear the sight of your crown. No king among kings would ever stand against you, except this fatherless one of foul stock, your own blood. You treated Siyavash as your own son, you lavished on him a father's toil and love. You would not have let so much as an unpleasant breeze from the open sky pass over him. You grew weary of him only when you learned for certain that he was after your crown, throne, and army. If you, the world's ruler, had not put him to death, your signet ring and crown would have passed to him. Now here he stands before you for war; there should be no long delay in this world. Whoever forgets a kindness done to him is plotting against the very soul of Siyavash. You raised this ill-omened, impure one, you did not consign him to the earth like a true father would. You kept him until he grew his wings, then through the king's love he reached for the golden crown. Like a bird he flew from Turan to Iran, as if he had never even known his grandfather. Look at the kindness Piran showed him, and at what that faithless, unworthy man did in return. He forgot all of Piran's affection, his heart brimming with malice, his mind boiling with rage. He kept silent until Piran was in his grip, and then he killed that loving warrior. Now with an army from Iran he has come to war, fierce-clawed, right before his grandfather. He wants no gold, no throne, no crown, no horse, no sword, no treasure, no army. From his kinsmen he wants nothing but their lives; he will not soften his demand on that point. My father is king and the wiser sovereign; he himself is witness to the truth of my words. There is no need for so much talk about the Iranians; do not break the army's spirit like this. What use are astrologers against such foes? With the sword real men prove their worth. The horsemen who ride on my right flank are of one heart and one body for the fight. If my king gives me leave, I will not spare a single one of them alive. I will pin their heads and helmets with arrows, fearing neither the trench nor the flooded moat. When Afrasiyab heard these words he said to him: Do not rush, do not be hasty. Everything you have said is true; one should listen to nothing but the truth. Yet you know how the hero Piran walked only the path of goodness in this world. There was no crookedness or fault in his heart; he sought nothing but virtue and truth. On the day of battle he was an elephant in strength, with a heart like the sea and a face like the shining sun. And his brother Human, a leopard of war, like battle-hardened Lahhak and Farshidvard, a hundred thousand vengeful Turkish riders, all glory-seekers ready for the fray, they marched out from here full of fury and clamor, while I remained here, restless, in grief and lament. So many were slain on this field of vengeance that the earth beneath was soaked like clay with blood. All the borderlands of Turan are broken-hearted; their hearts are torn apart with sorrow. In their sleep they see nothing but Piran's death; no one calls out the name of Afrasiyab. Let us wait until our renowned men, our chiefs and the riders of our army, look the Iranians in the eye; then the mourning, the pain and anger, will ease in their hearts. And let the Iranians too see this vast army and the majesty of throne and crown. The two armies stand like this, full of pain and rage, while the star keeps its eye on us from the sky. It is not wise to seek battle in a headlong crush; there you suffer defeat and grasp nothing but wind. Let us send out scattered champions instead and fill the desert with their blood. Pashang answered: O king, if you would wage war in this manner, then the first champion of the army is me, for I hurl my horse against lion and elephant alike. I know of no man who on the day of battle could even scatter dust on my horse from afar. My desire is to fight Kay Khosrow himself, for he is the new sovereign of the world. If he dares seek battle with me, he will not escape my clutches. Their heart and their backbone will be broken, and that whole gathering's fate will be sealed. And if any other comes against me in battle, I will lay his head in the dust at once. Afrasiyab said: O untried young man, why would the king of kings seek combat with you? And if he did seek a match, that match is mine; I would trample his body and his name underfoot. If he comes to the field to face me, both armies will find rest from war. Shide said to him: O man who has seen the world, who has tasted much of its warmth and cold, you have five living sons standing before you; we will not let you be the one who plans to fight. Neither the army nor the God-fearing would approve of your being the first to enter battle against him.

The king said to him: 'You proud man, you have tasted neither the warmth nor the cold of this world.' 'Go from here to the middle of the army, and ask them for a wise man.' 'Carry a message from me to Kaykhosrow: this world has other customs and other ways.' 'A grandson who makes war on his grandfather has a heart bent on evil and treachery.' 'Was this the will of the world's Creator, that the world should be filled with strife and hatred?' 'Siavash was not killed guiltless; his head was turned by his teachers.' 'If the guilt was mine, what did Piran do, or Ruyin and Lahhak and Farshidvard,' 'that they had to be bound to their saddles, drenched in blood like drunken elephants?' 'If I were to say you are an evil creature, malicious and born of Ahriman's seed,' 'look at your lineage: I am of the same stock, so I would only be reproaching myself.' 'Lay this feud on Godarz and Kavus, who lead the roaring army against me.' 'I do not say this because I fear you, or because I have grown old and changed.' 'All the sands and seas are my army, all of them fierce lions and warriors.' 'Whenever I command, my son, they turn Mount Gang into a sea on the day of battle.' 'But I fear the Creator, and the shedding of blood, and the turns of evil fortune,' 'that so many renowned, innocent heads should be severed from their bodies on this battlefield.' 'If you do not turn away from the war before me, then surely shame will come upon you.' 'If you make a pledge with me under oath, strive not to break my covenant.' 'In this matter I will guide you, so that your treasury and your army remain intact.' 'If you forget the affair of Siavash and cease making merry over Turan,' 'there are the brothers Jahn and the warlike Pashang, who in battle can turn mountains of stone into sea.' 'Every land and region you claim for Iran, I will empty of Turks at your command.' 'All that we have from the treasure of our ancestors, in coin and crown and throne and seat,' 'in horses and arms, in much and little, the inheritance left from our forefather Zadsham,' 'the treasure of the great, the throne and the crown, and whatever an army requires,' 'I will send all of it to you, for your father is himself a champion and my own kin.' 'The two armies will rest from the toil of war, and all our days will turn back to feasting.' 'But if it is Ahriman who twists your soul, driving you toward the shroud,' 'if you desire nothing but battle and bloodshed, and there is no room for my counsel in your mind,' 'then step out from your own army, and perhaps you will get your wish from this affair.' Let the two of us turn to the field of battle, so that all these armies can rest from war. If I am the one killed, the world is yours; the army becomes your servants, and your own son. And if you are killed by my hand, I will harm no one else from your gathering. Your army will be under my protection; they are all noblemen, and they are my friends. But if you will not come to fight me, if you cannot stand against this seasoned warrior, then Pashang will come before you with his belt fastened; once he begins the fight, he will not delay. The father has grown old, but his champion is young, a youth who is wise and bright of soul. He will bring the fight to you on the battlefield; he is brave, and he fights like a leopard. Then we shall see which way the heavens turn, and on whose head the sun will set its crown. But if you will not seek combat with him, you mean to handle this matter another way. Wait, then, and let the army rest tonight, until the mountain puts on its golden helmet at dawn. We will pick the fighters from our forces, proud men with heavy maces. We will turn the ground into a sea of blood, and from the corpses of our enemies make a wide plain. On the second day, at the crowing of the cock, we will strap the war drums onto the elephants' backs. We will lead the chiefs out to give aid, and into the stream we will send both water and blood. When the enemy will not listen to your message, when he twists away and puts no faith in these words, then challenge him alone, man to man, in sight, but far from the center of the army. The son blessed his father and rode out, while the father's eyes filled with tears and his heart with blood. He chose four men from among the wise priests, men who had tasted much of the world's heat and cold, and a thousand of the army's renowned soldiers, wise men, fit for the day of battle. On the road the scout saw from afar the banner and lances of Tur's riders. Among the Turks, every one who rode in the vanguard was an untried, inexperienced young man. On the road they clashed with the scouts, and for the sake of Shideh they shed blood. A few of the Iranians were wounded, and from that side the fighting was pressed on. At that very moment Shideh arrived there and saw the Iranian sentries. Shideh's heart grew troubled in that affair, and he called his warriors back from the fight. He said to the Iranians: near the king, send a rider, as is proper and customary. Let him say that a bright-hearted man named Shideh has brought several messages to the king, from Afrasiab, that commander of China, father of the mother of the king of Iran. A rider set off swiftly from the scouts and hurried at full speed toward the king of Iran. There is a messenger from the king of Turan's army, high in spirit, carrying a black banner. He says: 'I am Shideh by name. I need someone to whom I can deliver my message.' The king's heart filled with shame at those words, and hot tears spilled from his eyes. He said: 'This Shideh is my uncle, my equal in stature and in courage.' He looked among the warriors, and found no one there but Qaren of the Kaviani line. He told him: 'Go to him gladly, give him our greeting, and hear his message.' When Qaren came out from before the army, he saw that gleaming black banner. When he reached Shideh, he gave him greetings from the king and, more warmly, from the Iranians. The young man too opened his sweet tongue, for he was clear of heart and bright of soul. He said all that he had heard from Afrasiab, of peace and feasting, of war and of haste. When Qaren heard those elegant words from that renowned, wise, and pure-minded man, he came to the king of Iran and said: 'These messages were matched with wisdom.' When Khosrow heard Qaren's words, the old sayings came back to his mind. Khosrow laughed at his grandfather's scheming, at his search for tricks and cunning devices. Then he said: 'Afrasiab has come to regret crossing the river.' 'His eyes are dry, his lips full of talk; my own heart is full of ancient griefs.' 'He works to turn my heart aside, to frighten me with the size of his army.' 'When the turning wheel of the high heavens does not spin as it should, the day brings only harm.' 'Now there is no other course for us but that I, my heart full of hatred, go before him.' 'I will meet him on the battlefield in single combat, and when the time to fight comes, I will not delay.' But all the wise men and nobles of the army cried out with one voice: 'This is not the way.' 'The worldly-wise, learned Afrasiab dreams of nothing but finding some trick.' 'He knows nothing but sorcery and magic, deceit, ill intent, and a wicked nature.' 'Now he has chosen Shideh from his army, seeing in him the key to an evil snare.' 'He wants the king of Iran himself in combat, so as to fill our days with pain.' 'Do not act rashly against his sharp cunning; do not grow weary of Iran and its crown.' 'And if Shideh seeks combat with the king, do not carelessly go to face him in the field.' 'If Shideh should be destroyed by your hand, only one renowned man is lost from that army.' 'But if you, far from here, should perish, a dark cloud of dust would rise from Iran.' 'Not one of us would remain alive, and neither city nor land nor soil of Iran would stand.' There is no one left of our royal line to gird his belt and take up this feud. Your grandfather is an old man who has seen the world, honored in Turan and China. He apologizes for the wrong he did; out of helplessness he wants to avoid battle. He speaks of the horses and treasures of coin that Tur laid up for the sake of Zadsham, and the royal throne, the crowns of chiefs, the golden belts, and the heavy maces: he will hand these over from his own treasury to your treasury, buying himself off from this trouble. Every city he has taken from Iran's borders he will empty of the Turks. Let us return to Iran, victorious and glad, and think no more of what has passed. Old and young agreed to these words, all except the famous warrior Rostam, for Rostam turned his head away from peace; his heart held a grudge because of Siyavash. The king kept biting his lip and stared at them, bewildered. Then he said: This is not the way. Shall we go home to Iran from this battlefield? What of all our vows and customs, our treasures pledged, our words and counsel? If Afrasiab is left alive upon the throne, the world will fall to ruin because of him. How can we face Kavus with any excuse? With what eyes could we ever look at him? You have heard what Tur did to good Iraj for the sake of crown and throne. And Siyavash too, though innocent, he killed for the sake of treasure, throne, and crown. A deceiving Turk from that assembly came strolling up to me. If he means to avoid battle with me, why have your faces gone so pale? This astonishes me in you, and it only deepens the old grudge in me. I never imagined the Iranians would forever let go of this feud. I saw no one from Iran's army struck down on this battlefield, so that you would rush away from fighting them at the word of the deceiver Afrasiab. When the Iranians heard these words from the king, they writhed with shame at their fault, and offered excuses: We are your servants; it was out of loyalty that we bowed our heads. The king of kings wants nothing but a good name, and a good end to all his affairs. The praised lord of high spirit does not want reproach to fall on us, so that people say there was no rider from Iran who dared test himself in battle against Shideh, that a rider came to the field of war and none but their king showed such courage. Khosrow, chief of the wise, wants nothing except that shame should never stain us. The king answered them like this: You wise counselors who show the way, Know that on the day of battle this Shideh has no equal to his father on the open field. His father forged his weapons with sorcery, out of crookedness, deceit, and malice. Your weapons will not cut through that armor and steel-piercing helmet. His horse too is descended from the wind: a heart like a lion's, and swift as the wind when it runs. Whoever God has not granted glory has no strength or wings against his grip. He will not come out to fight you; his glory and his lineage would find it shameful. Descendant of Fereydun and son of Qobad, the two warriors were of one heart and one nature. I will burn his father's dark soul over him, just as he burned Kavus over his own son. The brave men and lions of the land of Iran all called out their praise to the king.

He commanded that loyal Qaran go back and carry the king's answer, saying: This affair of ours has dragged on and grown hard; the talk has gone far beyond measure. A man skilled and steady in battle does not linger so long when the fighting comes. Now let us see whom the Lord of sun and moon will grant joy on this battlefield. I do not want horses, gold, or treasure from you, for this fleeting inn of a world stays with no one. By the might of the Creator who fashioned the world, by the crown of Kavus and the Lord who nurtures him, I will give you no more time than a fierce autumn gale gives to a flower. We have no need of wealth that was piled up through cruelty and injustice. Whoever leans on God for strength keeps his heart and fortune smiling always. Your land, your soil, your treasure and your army are mine; your throne and golden crown are mine as well. Peshang came and demanded battle of me, armored but without army, wealth, or gain. At dawn he is my guest; he will see how my sword scatters heads. I want no one from the army of Iran to face him on the field of combat. It is me, Shideh, the open plain, and a sharp sword; in the end I will raise a doomsday against him. If I come out the victor in this fight, I will not stall the way you have described. We will send roaring champions out from both sides, until the plain is filled with the color and scent of blood. After that we will bring all the warriors together, hurling them into battle like a mountain. When you have said this, tell Shideh: You reckless, ambitious lord, you did not come here for your own desire, nor to seek out honor and a name, nor for Afrasiyab's message; it was your own evil deeds that hurried you here. The Lord of the world drove you out from the gathering; your grave will be right here, and your shroud with it. Harm will reach you from that harmless head, one they slaughtered from its body like a sheep. Qaran came galloping back from the king toward that black banner, and told him everything he had heard, hiding nothing, good or bad. Shideh went off to Afrasiyab, his heart roasting like meat set over fire. The king of the Turks turned grim at the answer, grew sorrowful, and let out a sharp, hot sigh, over the dream he had seen long ago and kept secret from everyone. His head spun and his heart filled with dread; he knew a hard descent had come upon him. He said: Tomorrow on this battlefield, no path will be found through the fallen men. He told Shideh: From tomorrow morning, my son, do not speak of war for two days. This coming battle has, it seems, broken my heart; I feel as if my very soul is being torn from my body. The son said: King of the Turks and China, do not sicken your own heart on the day of vengeance. When tomorrow the sun raises its banner and turns the face of the sky to gleaming violet, it will be me, Khosrow, and the field of battle; I will raise a black dust storm against the king.

When that dark blue tent of night grew bright, the world turned the color of a yellow ruby. Pashang mounted his war horse, his head full of battle with the recklessness of youth. He clad his gleaming chest in mail, and set the royal iron helmet on his head. His banner in one hand, a fighting Turk beside him, he came forward gracefully like a leopard. When he drew near the army of Iran, one of the renowned men went to the king. He said: a horseman has come between the two ranks, proud and seething, a sword in his fist. The king laughed at this and called for his armor, and raised the great royal standard upright. He set a golden helmet on his head and gave his banner to Rohham, son of Gudarz. His whole army grew grieved and wept, as if roasting over a raging fire. A cry rose up: O king, do not put your body to the trouble of steel. For all kings, the throne was their seat; you have bound your belt for vengeance instead. May whoever caused this find no seat but the dark earth, and may no wish or power ever fall to his hand. The commander, in mail with mace and helmet, sent word again and again to his troops: Let not a single man stir from this battlefield, not on the left, the right, the center, or the wings. No one is to look for a fight or an uproar; keep your ears on Rohham, son of Gudarz. When the sun climbs high in the sky, watch to see upon whom the harm will fall. Do not let your hearts grow anxious; this is how war begins and how it ends. Now on the heights, now in the depths; now in triumph, now in terror. He spurred on his night black steed Behzad, who on the day of racing could overtake the wind. Girded with lance, helmet, and armor, the dust of his horse rose to the clouds. Between the two ranks Shideh saw him and drew a cold sigh up from deep within. He said to him: you are the son of the noble Siyavash, are you not, the wise and worthy one? Grandson of the ruler of Turan's army, whose helmet brushes against the wheel of the moon? You are surely the one they take you for, a man who has seen the world and been raised in wisdom. If you had any sense along with your royal blood, you would not have set your hand to a fight like this. If you want battle, go out in front of the army and choose a distant field for the fight, where no one from Iran or Turan will watch us, and we will call for no comrades to come to our aid. The king answered him thus: O tearing lion of the battlefield, I am the heartbroken son of that innocent one, Siyavash, who was killed by the king's hand. I have come to this plain from Iran for vengeance; I did not come for the sake of throne or signet ring. When you rose up against your own father, you demanded me from among the army for combat. You asked for me, and it would not have been right for me to send anyone unworthy to face you. Now choose a battlefield, far from the armies, out of everyone's sight. They made a pact that from neither side would any vengeful man come to help. Even those who carried our banners would not turn pale from any treachery. The two of them went far from their armies, as gladly as a man heading to a feast. It was a wilderness fit for war, and that place lay on the border of Khwarazm. They reached a spot so harsh and dry that neither lion nor leopard set a claw there. No eagle flew above its skies; part of it was barren rock, part shimmering mirage. They marked out a great arena: two horses and two warriors like a pair of wolves. The riders were like fierce lions, full of rage on the day of the hunt. They circled each other with long spears while the sun blazed overhead. No spearhead remained on their lances; armor and reins were drenched in sweat. With Roman maces, swords, and arrows they fought each other without letup. The ground went black with the dust of the riders, yet neither tired of the fight. When Shideh saw Khosrow's courage and strength, tears ran from his lashes down his cheeks. He knew this was divine glory, and that he should weep for his own fate. His horse, too, grew faint from thirst, and the man's own strength began to fail. In his helplessness he thought to himself: what if I say to the king, mid-battle, 'Come, let us dismount and wrestle on foot, both of us slick with sweat.' He will not dismount, for he would think it beneath him; his kingly self would find it demeaning. But if this trick does not free me from him, I am surely lost in the dragon's jaws. He said to him: O king, with blade and spear anyone can fight and wheel his horse. It is better to fight on foot, seeking battle, striking with our hands like lions. At once the world-ruling Khosrow understood the ill-meaning man's intent. He said to himself: this lion, full of strength and grip, is Fereydun's descendant and Pashang's son. If he gets his rest and eases himself, he will strike terror into many a lionhearted man. If I do not dismount to fight, he will make the ground close in on the Iranians. Rahham said to him: O crowned one, do not disgrace your noble blood with this act. If Khosrow fights on foot, then what use are all these riders on this plain? If I must set foot on the ground on foot, I descend from the line of Keshvad. Let me be the one to go and fight him, not the king, the proud lord of the world. Then the king said to Roham, 'My dear, my noble horseman warrior, know that Shideh, brave son of Pashang's line, will not come out to fight you. You are no match for his combat either; among the Turks there is no commander like him, a fighting man of Fereydun's blood, and no mother ever bore one so brave.' 'It is no shame for me to go to war; on foot we will wage a leopard's fight.' From the other side an envoy went to Shideh: 'Keep away from harm, you suspicious one. You have no choice but to turn back, for you cannot stand against Khosrow in battle. When the moment comes to flee an enemy, that is better than being killed and stirring up doom.' Shideh said to that famed envoy, 'A man's true worth in battle cannot be hidden. Know that from the day I first buckled my belt, I have raised my head toward the sun. With this strength, this glory, and this fighting hand, I have never seen my equal on the field. But the grave suits me better than flight, once I have thrown myself into a struggle. I would climb above the turning of the heavens, or tread upon the very eye of a dragon. If my life is fated to end here by his hand, neither foe nor friend can hold death back from me. I do not know where his manly strength comes from; upon this famed man rests a divine glory. Perhaps on foot I can reach him and in battle send his blood flowing like a stream.' The king of the world said to Shideh, 'You, famed one, of the line of the great, surely no man of the royal seed has ever tested combat on foot. But if this is your desire, I will never turn the rein against your wish.' The king dismounted from his black horse and lifted the royal crown from his head. He gave the precious horse to Roham and came forward on foot like blazing fire. When Pashang saw him on foot from afar, that warlike leopard dismounted too. On the plain they clashed like elephants, mingling the dust with blood. When Shideh saw the king's stature and breadth, that divine glory and command, he looked for a way to escape him, for once the head is lost the body is worthless. When Khosrow understood his intent, and saw his strength and towering frame, he seized his neck with the left hand, his back with the right, lifted him up and slammed him hard to the ground. Every vertebra of his spine shattered like a reed, crumbling with pain as his sinews tore apart. He drew a sharp blade from his side and tore right through the famous warrior's heart. He ripped his armor to shreds, and in his grief poured dust upon his own head. He said to Roham: this scheming enemy, brave and hot-headed, was my uncle. Now that he is slain, show him kindness; build him a royal tomb. Wash his body with musk, fragrance, and rosewater, and cleanse his head with pure camphor. Place a musk-scented collar around his neck, and set a perfumed crown upon his head. Then his interpreter looked down the road and saw the body of the renowned king. They lifted it, still bloody, from the sand and carried it toward the king's army. The messenger came wailing to the king: O renowned and just sovereign, I was only his weak servant, neither a fighting horseman nor a champion. Have mercy on me, O king, in your kindness; may the heavens rejoice in your life. The king said to him: tell your ancestor before that gathering what you saw of me. He kissed the ground and offered praise, then set out toward the lord of China. And from that plain vengeful Kay Khosrow turned his face back toward his own army. A cry rose up from the army of Iran: may the sun and moon show him grace. At once came Gudarz and Giv, along with Shidush, Rostam, and brave Gorgin. They all kissed the ground before him and called down many blessings on the king. On the other side, the Turks kept their eyes on the road, waiting for Shideh to return from the battlefield. A rider came across that soft sand, bareheaded, his eyes hot and full of blood. He came before Afrasiab, his heart broken by grief, his eyes brimming with tears. He brought out the hidden secret from concealment and told it all before the lord of the Turks. The world's ruler lost all hope in the world and tore out his camphor-white hair. He scattered flowing sand upon his head: the one who had been his champion was gone from the army. Everyone who saw the face of the king of the Turks tore his chest, his clothes, and his heart. Afrasiab spoke with weeping: from now on I will seek neither rest nor sleep. Help me in this mourning; every one of you, join me in grief. My sword's edge will never see its sheath again, nor will I ever again be content. Count as beast or wild animal, not human, any heart that is not pierced with this pain, and may there be no tears or shame in the eyes that are not filled with hot blood over our sorrow, for that moon-faced warrior on horseback, that cypress tree by the streamside. He wept tears of blood from his eyes, from a pain no doctor could cure. All the great nobles gave their answer, speaking out before their king. They said, 'May this just God make it easy for you, and fill the heart of your enemy with dread.' Not one of us will rest even a moment, night and day, grieving Peshang and thirsting for revenge. We will set the whole army's heart to roaring, and scatter heads across the battlefield. Before this there was no true grudge against Khosrow, but now this vengeance has piled hatred upon hatred. The army's heart was broken for the sake of the king, and the whole battlefield surged and roared with rage.

When the sun raised its head from the sign of Taurus, the lark's cry rose from the plain. War drums thundered from both camps, along with the wail of horns and trumpets. Jahn led thirty thousand sword-wielding warriors out to the field of battle. When Khosrow saw them arranged like this, he commanded Qaran, bearer of the Kavian banner, to charge from the heart of the army like a moving mountain; before him the brave Jahn was worn down. On the right, Gostaham son of Nozar came storming forward like dust, carrying the war banner. The world turned dark from the horsemen's dust, the earth filled with soldiers and the sky with banners. Khosrow surged forth from the center of his army, and so did Afrasiab on that battlefield. Such a fight broke out that the boldest champions had never witnessed its like. So many of the Turanian troops were slain that the battlefield became a sea of blood. It went on until the sky grew dark, and the eyes of the warriors were dazzled. When Qaran the fighter triumphed, defeat fell upon the brave Jahn. When the moon settled on the mountain's skirt, the heroes withdrew from the battlefield. The king rejoiced over the Iranians, for they had prevailed in that struggle. All night long they prepared for war, giving no time to sleep or food. When the sun raised its head from the claw of Cancer, the world filled with battle, clamor, and frenzy. The two armies drew up their ranks, every soldier foaming at the lips for the fight. The commander of Iran moved away from behind his troops, taking with him a loyal, well-meaning attendant. When he had gone a little way, he dismounted and praised the Creator of the world at length. He pressed his face to the dark earth and said: O just and pure Judge, you know that I have suffered his cruelty, and endured many an evil day. Repay the wrongdoer with blood; be the guide of the one who has been wronged. From there, with a heart full of grief and a head full of vengeance against the line of Zadsham, he came roaring to the center of his army and placed the blessed crown upon his head. A din arose, the wail of the ox-horn, the blast of the brass pipe and the curved brass trumpet. From the other side the army, like a mountain, advanced seething, group after group. An army like a rolling sea of water, with Jahn and Afrasiab at its heart. When both armies moved from their places, you would think the plains and gates had grown feet. The sun turned black from the army's dust, from diamond arrowheads and eagle feathers. From the endless wail of horns and the dust of the army, and from the shouts of the horsemen on that field, Iron, mountain, and stone turned to water; a crocodile churned the sea, a leopard raged across the plain. The earth was all uproar, the air all shouting; the din split the ears of the furious lion. You would say the whole world was made of iron, or that the sky had become the enemy of the earth. Everywhere the dead lay piled like mountains, warriors of Iran and Turan heaped together. The sands were strewn with heads and hands and feet; the very heart of the earth was torn from its place. The whole ground beneath the hooves became like linen dipped and starched in blood. After that the champions of Afrasiab moved forward like a ship upon the water. They turned toward the armored towers on the elephants, where the archers were stationed. The elephants formed a fortress before the army, raised at the center and blocking the way. From the towers on the elephants arrows rained down, and the cry of seize them and hold rose up. The lancer champions charged, a heavy force straight from the army's center. From two leagues away Afrasiab watched that army and the fight around the towers and elephants. He drove forward all his mighty elephants and his host; the world grew dark and no light remained. He roared: 'Famous warriors, why do you keep your bodies penned in such a narrow space?' 'Do not stay facing the towers and the elephants; the army stands idle over several leagues.' 'Push out toward the right wing and the left; move up beyond the center and the towers.' He ordered the battle-tested Jahn to move from his place with Tegin and his troops. He led two thousand seasoned riders, all lancers ready for combat. To the left wing went Tabard, a lion in war, moving swiftly with his famous champions. When Kaykhosrow saw that battle of the Turks, and how the sun had vanished from the world, he turned toward Aveh and Samkanan, who were lions eager for the fray, and ordered them to wheel upon the enemy's left wing like the sun blazing out of Aries. Ten thousand renowned men rode out, mailed, with mace-heads shaped like an ox's skull. The king commanded Shammakh of Sur, one of the noted men of Iran's army, to choose ten thousand fighters, brave horsemen fit for combat, and to draw their swords between the two lines, letting no one duck his head away. The two armies clashed in such a way that you would say they had merged into one. The clash of blades rose from both sides; from the fighting, blood ran in streams. When the dust rose on the left and the right, the king called for his Roman armor. They drew the elephant towers off to one side, and the world became like the river Nile. Rustam charged forward from the center; Manushan of Khuzan stood as shelter for the troops. The blare of trumpets and war drums rose up. On one flank stood Khosrow with the commander Tus. The banner of Kaveh was raised high, and all the champions wore golden boots. With aching hearts they rose to their feet and arrayed the army on the king's left. To his right stood Rustam, hungry for revenge, and his brother Zavareh took up his place. The world-worn Gudarz, son of Keshvad, with many great nobles and free-born men. They stood ready at Rustam's side: Zarasp and Manushan of blessed counsel. From the field rose the roar of the clash; no one had ever seen such warfare. The whole sand was covered with the wounded and the dead, wherever fate had turned its back on a man. So many lay slain across the battlefield that they drove their horses over the corpses. The plain ran like the Oxus with blood: one man headless, another thrown down face-first. The cries of riders and horses on the field rose higher than the beating of the drums. You would think the mountain's heart was splitting, and the earth itself was taking flight with the riders. Headless bodies and bodiless heads, and the clanging of heavy maces. The flashing of daggers and sharp swords; the sun itself sought a way to flee. On the right wing, by Manuchehr's hand, fell Kahila, who alone was worth a hundred lions. On the left wing Jaranjash was destroyed by the hand of Fariborz, son of Kavus the king. A wind and a cloud rose from the south and darkened the face of the world-lighting sun. You would say a black cloud had risen and rained down blood upon the battlefield. It veiled the earth and the ground turned dark; eyes were blinded by the gloom. When the sun sank toward the horizon, the heart of the king of Turks leapt with dread. From the surge of riders of every land, from every border, every region, every chief, thirty thousand sword-wielding horsemen, chosen riders skilled with the dagger. Each with a different armor, a different banner, the world turned red and yellow and violet. Garsivaz looked out from behind the king and brought the whole army into the fight. He sent a force to the right wing, prized men, of one heart and one purpose. Likewise an army toward the left, with a chief spread out on every side. Thirty thousand warrior horsemen, all chosen and fit for battle. When Garsivaz moved from the rear of the army, he hurried swiftly to his brother's side. When the brother saw his brother's face, he gained new strength and pressed the army forward. A great uproar rose from the army, and arrows darkened the whole sky. As the sun's back was bent toward setting, the bright day turned dark with the coming of night. The scheming warrior Garsivaz came trembling before his brother. He said: who among the heroes would still seek battle now, when the earth is full of blood and the sky full of dust? Pull the troops back, do not fight now that night has fallen, for the Turks are about to break into a cry of defeat. You keep on fighting while the army flees; do not wage such a war against your own life. But the heart of the king of the Turks was full of rage and fury, and in his temper he would not listen to the advice. He spurred his horse out from the midst of the host and charged forward, roaring, under the black banner. He killed several noted men of Iran; and when Khosrow saw this, he came in behind him. The two kings of two lands, so filled with hatred, rode out with only a handful of horsemen. Garsivaz and Jahn could not bear to see that he would go out to fight Khosrow face to face. They seized his reins and turned him away, rushing him off toward the sands of the Amu. When he had turned back, Estaqila came like dust on the wind, advancing to seek battle with the king. King Ila, roaring, before the whole army, drove a lance straight at the king's waist. But the lance had no effect on his armor, nor did any fear enter his shining heart. When Khosrow saw the man's courage and strength, he swiftly drew his sharp sword from his belt. He struck him across the middle and cut him in two, and filled Borz Ila's heart with terror. When Borz Ila saw that stroke of the king, that courage, that strength, and that mastery, he fled into the darkness in flight, as though the very skin was splitting on his body. When the army saw his mighty hand at work, not a single warrior remained on the battlefield. For Afrasiab those words were as good as death, seeing how his men had turned their backs and fled. When he learned this about the men of Turan, you would think the day had grown short upon him. When they had left the battlefield with disgrace, he ordered them to raise a cry aloud: This lion-hearted man's valor comes from the dark of night; it is the pressing of night that makes me withdraw. If it so happens that today, for once, the wind favored you and joy opened its door to you, when the day makes the face of the earth bright, you shall see our heart-cheering banner rise. We will turn the whole land of Iran into a sea, and lift its dust as high as the Pleiades from the shining sun. The two kings of two lands, so ready for war, returned, each to his own encampment.

When half the dark night had passed, the sky above the mountains grew still. The Turkish commander loaded up the baggage and handed out helmets and armor to all his troops. He ordered a vanguard of ten thousand mounted Turks in full battle-gear. Afrasiab said this to his army: 'Once I have crossed to the far side of the river, follow close behind me, one after another; at the Oxus do not stop to count the boats or the passing hours.' In the dark night Afrasiab and his army crossed the Amu and left the water behind. Across the land, by road and off it, the pavilions and tents stood empty of troops. When dawn broke from the west, the scouts saw no army on the plain. A messenger came with the news to the king: 'The enemy king has quit this battlefield. The whole plain is nothing but tents and pavilions; I see not a single horseman of the foe.' When Khosrow heard this, he ran to the ground, offering praise before the pure God. He said: 'O radiant Creator, ruler of the world, ever-watchful, sustainer of all, You gave me glory, crown, and strength; You blinded the heart and eyes of my enemy. Drive the tyrant from this world, and let him waste away all his years in fear.' When the sun raised its golden shield, the night drew its turquoise veil back over its head. The king of the world sat on the ivory throne and set that heart-brightening crown upon his head. The army came before him in praise: 'May this king, worthy of the throne, live forever.' This army was made rich beyond need by the spoils the king of China's forces left behind. Everyone kept saying: 'What a disgrace, that he fled with his whole army, his horns and war-drums, and in the dark night, thanks to men of high rank, such a famous prize was given up for nothing.' The watchful king spoke to them: 'O renowned men of the army of Iran, for a king, an enemy is better dead, but if he flees the battle and turns away, that too is well. Since the Victorious One granted us splendor, greatness, and the imperial crown, praise Him throughout the world; when night comes, offer Him your prayers. For whomever He wishes to make wretched, He seats some worthless man upon the throne. This striving and questioning of yours has no point, for against His justice no servant has any standing. I will stay on this battlefield for five days; on the sixth, the day of Hormozd that lights the world, we will march the army from here, for he stirs up vengeance and we seek it in return.' In these five days on that battlefield, the army of Iran searched out its slain. The Iranians washed the dust from their dead and made for each one a fitting tomb.

He ordered the scribe to come before him, to bring paper, musk, and fragrant perfume. They wrote a letter to King Kavus, a report worthy of that battlefield. The letter opened first with praise, fitting tribute to the Creator of the world. Then he said: O king who guards the world, who trembles for my life like a father, may his greatness reach as high as the mountains, and may the hearts of those who wish him ill be broken. I reached the sands of Farab from Iran, and fought three heavy battles in three nights. The number of Afrasiab's horsemen was beyond anything a wise man could dream of. I have cut off some three hundred famous heads, and now I send them to my king. His brother, his kin and relations, his honored nobles, and his own son, and two hundred of those famous men taken captive, each one of whom is a match for a hundred lions in war. The whole battle was fought on the plain of Khwarazm; may heaven bless such a fight. He fled, and we pressed hard behind him, waiting to see how fate would turn. He blessed that battlefield and said: may it forever be paired with a lucky star. They sealed the letter with musk, and then he crossed over the dry sands. When Afrasiab reached that river, the Oxus, like a raging wind he swept across the water. He came before the army of Qarakhan, where each man told what he had seen of the fighting. How the commander of the Turks wept for those of his own line who had lived and died. For the sake of his precious son, his nobles, his kin and his relations, a cry went up as if the clouds themselves were dripping blood from a lion's eyes. He stayed a while in Bukhara, hoping his warriors would come to fight. Then, when the survivors gathered, he summoned the noblest and highest-minded lords. When the nobles were assembled, every counselor in the army, they spoke openly to their king, for their hearts had grown helpless of war. They said: whatever great men we had in our army have all perished, and our hearts are torn for them. Barely twenty of every hundred remain; we should weep for those who are gone. Now we have cut our hearts away from our treasure and our children, and turned from many of our kin. On the far side of the Oxus we made a battlefield, just as the king had commanded. Whatever befell us through folly, you know best, for you are the king and we are seekers of a way out. If the king's judgment sees clearly, let him march his army from here to Chach. When Kaykhosrow comes to seek revenge, you will need to have your army ready. When the king carries this out, he should then pass beyond the Gulzariun as well. Let him settle in peace in the paradise of Gang, which is both a place of war and a place of rest. On this they all agreed with one voice; no one proposed any other plan. They all set out for the Gulzariun, their eyes full of tears and their hearts full of blood. By the Gulzariun the king of Turan stayed three days, resting with hawk and hunting leopard. From there they went toward Gang, and nowhere did he linger long. There was one place as lovely as paradise: its clay was pure musk, its bricks were gold. In that place he slept happy and smiling, as if he had become one with safety itself. He summoned troops from every side without end, the proud, defiant nobles and the great lords. Wine and rose garden, the sound of harp and lute, roses and hyacinths, goblets, and Afrasiab. He waited to see how the world would turn, and what it kept hidden behind what was plain. When Kaykhosrow reached this side of the water, food, rest, and sleep left Afrasiab entirely. When the army had crossed to that side of the river, he then sent greetings to everyone. Saying: fear no one because of this coming; ask the pure God to favor us. He gave a rich treasure to the poor; whoever pleased him he gave still more. From there he came to the city of Sughd, and saw a new world freed of the owls of ruin. He gave that city a treasure too, wishing it to flourish and grow rich. At every stage riders seeking safety kept coming to the king to submit. After this, word came to the king of Gang, of Afrasiab, and of his army, that Golgola had come to him with an army like an unleashed lion, a man of the line of Tur, full of hatred and grief, seeking a day of battle. He sent some of his warriors to Chach, one who sought the throne and crown of the Turks. An army he sent toward the vast desert, making Turg their commander. Each of these accepted the king's charge to war, to close the roads against the famous foes. The world-ruler Kaykhosrow held all this lightly; he made wisdom the commander of his thoughts. The army that had come from Bardaa and Ardabil he ordered to pass by, band after band, to come and file past him, so the chiefs, priests, and border-lords could all be counted. They set out, their commander Gostaham, who never faltered in a fight of lions. He likewise ordered the army of the southlands to march out with fiery Rostam. He commanded them to mount their spirited camels and to take horses in hand. The king stayed a month in Sughd, and all of Sughd became his loyal well-wishers. He gave the army money and let them rest, watching for the day of battle to come. Everyone who knew the ways of war, who understood the tricks and defenses of fortresses, he brought over and made his ally, filling the head of the evildoer with dread. Then, from there, with head held high, belt fastened, and ready for war, he led his army out of Sughd toward Kushan, while a whole world watched in amazement. Word reached the Turks that the army had come, that Kaykhosrow, the world-seeker, was out for vengeance. They all turned their faces toward the fortresses; the world filled with turmoil and talk. Then the king spoke to his army thus: today the war has taken on a new form. Any of the Turks who obeys our command and regrets his wish to fight, do not make war on him, do not shed his blood, and lead no one toward evil. But if anyone seeks battle with the army and cannot let go of his hatred, then shedding blood is lawful for you, and plunder and combat wherever you are. On the road, do not be stingy with food; hold no grudge and make no war without cause. A great cry rose up from the front of the army, as if it would tear the heavens and the moon apart. The horsemen turned toward the fortresses; the world filled with uproar and talk. Whoever carried out the command, the king of kings' army did not so much as look at him. But whoever broke the king's command, the army cut off every one of their heads. None of the Turks, for fear of Afrasiab, would even leave their thirsty lips near the water. And if any man lagged behind this army, they would find his headless body on the road. The brave ones turned toward the fortresses; at any fort where there was a warrior, its walls were at once leveled to the ground, and no door, roof, or dwelling was left standing. Servants, attendants, and beasts, nothing good or bad was left in place. In this way they passed more than a hundred leagues; no fortress, no plain was left inhabited. When he had brought his army to the Gulzariun, he rode about on every side with his guide. He saw a world like a garden in spring: gate and plain, mountain and land, all richly adorned. Every mountain full of game, the plains full of trees, the world worthy of fortunate people. He sent out scouts and spies, so that no hidden danger would remain. The royal pavilion of the world's king was pitched beside the flowing water. The world-ruler sat upon his golden throne, he and the famous men devoted to their lord. That night he held a feast so bright that by dawn it was as if the dead had risen from the dark earth.

On the far side of the Gang, Afrasiab, both in the shining daylight and at the hour of sleep, kept asking everyone who was skilled, the wise elders, alert and full of knowledge, now that the enemy has reached our pillow, how can we rest peacefully inside the Gang? They all opened their tongues to speak: now that the evil-minded foe has drawn close, we see no way but war; surrender does not suit an army this large. They spoke, then rose from their places, and all night long they arranged the ranks. At the crack of dawn, at the crowing of the rooster, the sound of war drums rose from the court. An army came out from the Gang onto the plain, so vast that the road grew narrow even for an ant or a gnat. When it reached the banks of the Golzariyun, the earth became like Mount Bisotun. The army kept coming for three days and three nights; the world filled with the uproar of battle and tumult. They stretched their lines out for seven leagues; the people were more numerous than ants and locusts. On the fourth day they drew up the ranks; a heat rose from the sea up to the sun. At the center stood Afrasiab and the nobles, proud riders and men of wisdom. On the right wing, Jahn, son of Afrasiab, hurled his spear so high it seemed to pass the sun. On this side Khosrow, from the center, held the rear of the army firm as a mountain. There were men like Gudarz and Tus of the line of Nozar, and Manushan of Khuzan, victorious and just, like Gorgin son of Milad, and Rohham the lion, Hojir, and brave Shidush the hero. Fariborz son of Kavus held the right wing, an army all of one heart and one body. Manuchehr took his place on the left wing, a man who stood his ground in every fight. At the rear stood Giv son of Gudarz, the guardian and defender of every frontier. The ground turned into a mine of iron from the horseshoe nails; the sea's water all turned ruby-red with blood. Overhead the dust knit a black cloud; the drums bruised the heart of the hard granite. The earth became like a curtain of ebony; the very stars grew troubled by the drums' roar. The ground shook like a black cloud; you would think it could not bear the weight of the army. The whole plain was brains, heads, and feet; you could hardly find bare ground to stand on. The horses' hooves bruised the severed heads; the whole plain lay full of headless bodies, feet, and hands. The wise men drew aside, and both armies came to admit that if such a host stayed even one more hour on this plain in pain and vengeance, not one of these riders would be left alive; surely the heavens themselves would collapse. From so much shattering of battle-axes and helmets, the souls kept bidding their bodies farewell. When Kaykhosrow saw how the battle turned against him, the whole world felt small and closed in on his heart. He drew aside to the rear of his army and came before God to plead his case. He said: You who are higher than all pious knowledge, ruler of the world and king over everyone, If I am not one who has suffered injustice, tempered like iron glowing in the furnace, then I do not want to win this battle, nor to press hard against a just man. He said this and pressed his face to the dust, and the world filled with the sound of his bitter weeping. At that very moment a fierce wind arose that snapped the fresh green branches of the trees. It lifted the dust from the battlefield and hurled it into the faces of Turan's army. Whenever Afrasiab learned that a man had turned his back on the fight, he cut that man's head from his body with a dagger, and his only shroud was the dust and sand. So it went until sky and earth grew dark, and many of the Turks were taken captive. Night came and drew its musk-colored veil across the sky, so that no one could keep on fighting. The kings withdrew their troops from the plain once the earth's surface darkened beneath the sky. From the skirts of the mountain to the riverbank the army stood, clad in mail, breastplates, and helmets. They lit fires on every side, and scouts went out from both camps. Afrasiab made ready for battle and waited for the sun to rise, for the sun to climb the mountain's face and make it shine, turning the earth into a gleaming ruby. But the Creator of the world had another plan; against His will no effort holds firm. In the dark night, black as an Ethiopian's face, a messenger came from Gostaham son of Nowzar to the king, saying: Long live the king of the world forever, for we have returned victorious and glad. We fell suddenly upon those famous men of Afrasiab at the hour of sleep. They had not a single horseman keeping watch; no one among them had the sense to fear an attack. When their chiefs woke, we drew our swords and heavy maces. By the time night turned to day, none was left but Qarakhan; few of their men remained. The whole plain is strewn with their heads and bodies; the ground is their bed and the dust their shroud. At dawn a swift camel-rider arrived bringing good news from Rostam. He said: We got word out in the desert, and on hearing it we hurried quickly. Rostam made no difference between night and day; once he set out alone, he did not rest on the road. We reached them in the daytime, just as the world-lighting sun raised its head from the wheel of the sky. The mighty Rostam strung his bow, and as he drew near, he set the helmet on his head. The first arrow Rostam loosed from his bow struck Qarakhan and wounded him. Now the land of Turan turned to seek revenge, and word of it surely reached the king. A joyful shout rose up through the army, while the lord of the Turks kept listening. Everyone who was loyal to Khosrow reached out their hands to celebrate and rejoice. A rider came in haste, shouting, toward Afrasiab, saying: Qarakhan has escaped our army, and a mighty warrior has reached us. An army has set its face toward Turan, so vast the water of the rivers vanishes beneath them. The king said to his counselor: A hard battle has now come upon us. If Rostam seizes the seat of our throne, all at once our path is lost. Now while he thinks we hear nothing, let us wage such a war on Kaykhosrow. Let us fall on them like fire in a night raid, and turn the face of the land into a river of blood, like the Jayhun. When Kaykhosrow arrives with his two divisions of troops, he will find nothing but rooftops, walls, and the city. The whole army approved this plan, as did the wise man and the guide. He left behind all the baggage he had right there, and drove his army off that plain like fire. At that very moment the scouts came in from the plain, reporting the army's dust had risen and passed through the air. The whole plain is nothing but tents and pavilions, and not one of them is left inside a tent. Khosrow understood why the lord of China had slipped away untimely from that field of vengeance. He had gotten word of Gostaham and Rostam, and with that knowledge he hurried off swiftly. At once he sent off a swift courier, dispatched racing toward Rostam, saying: Afrasiab has turned back from this feud, and surely he means to rush against you in battle. Marshal your troops and stay alert; go and guard yourself well against him. The courier was seasoned and skilled, just the man needed for that trackless road. He rode on until he reached Rostam, and found the lionhearted hero already girded for war. The soldiers had shouldered their maces, and each one stood listening for the call. He told Rostam the message he carried, and the outcome of that message was peace of mind. Meanwhile, on this side, the vengeful Kaykhosrow sat at ease, saying nothing. He was handing out to all his army the royal pavilions, tents, crowns, and thrones. Among the Iranians he sought out the slain, shrouded them, and washed the blood and mud from them. In the manner of nobles he built tombs for the fallen, once he had lifted them from that dust and blood of battle. He loaded up the baggage and mounted his army, and rode off raging in pursuit of the king of the Turks. When Afrasiyab drew near the city, he counted on Rostam being lost in deep sleep. 'Now I will strike him with a night raid,' he thought, 'and raise dust from the head of his army.' But in the darkness the scouts saw him coming, and inside the city his men heard the noise. Rostam stood amazed at this turn of events; he rode on, sunk in thought. The whole army was battered and scattered, clinging to their sweet lives. At the front rode fierce clawed Rostam; behind him came the king and the warrior horsemen. He summoned to his side those who were near, and spoke with them at length. He asked, 'What plan do you see in this?' And so the famed counselor answered him. 'When all the king's treasure lies in the fortress of Gang, why should we now suffer the hardship of this road?' 'Its walls rise eight leagues high, and its breadth, they say, is four.' 'Women and children, the treasury, so vast an army, grandeur, command, the throne and the crown, all are safe there.' 'No eagle can fly over that fortress rampart; no one even dreams of such a height.' 'There is food, palaces, treasure, and troops; the throne and crown are yours, only toil for the enemy.' 'It is a land whose very name is Paradise, a place of joy, peace, and every desire.' 'In every corner a spring feeds a pool, each as wide and long as an arrow's flight.' 'He brought wise men from India and Rome, and raised there a thriving, paradise land.' 'From that wall, they say, for twenty leagues one can easily see who moves upon the plain.' 'Your only share of this world is war; in the end the world stays with no one.' When the king heard these words, they pleased him, and he felt safe from the turning of fate. Glad at heart, he came to the paradise of Gang, with all his army's gear and battle equipment. He rode all around that great city and nowhere found a single thorn patch. There stood a palace with its head reaching the sky, raised by the command of a mighty king. He dismounted at the hall and held court, and gave the troops silver and gold coins. He sent an army to every quarter, and set a noble chief to guard each one. Upon the wall he posted foot lookouts, watchmen by day and guards by night. His priest and wise man stood at his right hand; he called the scribe forward. They wrote a letter to the emperor of China, filled with a hundred thousand blessings. He said, 'From the turning of fate I have gained nothing but battle.' 'I raised the one I should have killed, and now because of him my days have turned harsh.' 'It would be right if the emperor of China came to my aid; my soul is a witness to my devotion to him.' And if he does not come himself, he will send an army, for from this side the avenger is already advancing. The messenger from Afrasiab reached China at the hour of sleep. The proud Faghfur, emperor of China, welcomed him and gave him a bright, splendid hall. Meanwhile, in his fortress at Gang, Afrasiab had no peace, no food, and no rest. He set up catapults along the walls and turned the towers into stations for battle. He ordered the war engineers to haul heavy stones up onto the ramparts. He summoned many skilled Roman craftsmen and stationed troops along the fortress walls. The alert-minded chief priest set up catapults and mangonels upon that rampart. Crossbows and shields of rhino hide, and every tower packed with armor and helmets. He put a band of blacksmiths to work, and had steel claws forged for every side. They fastened them to long spears, so that anyone who tried to climb the fortress would be caught on those sharp claws, or else would quickly flee back down. He gave the troops money and made them prosperous, dealing fairly with each man in every task. Helmets, swords, and horse armor, Chinese shields, arrows, and bows, he distributed to his countless army, especially to those who would do battle. When he was at ease, he sat down to enjoy himself among his warriors who served their king. Each day a hundred fairy-faced harpists would gather at the king's court. Night and day, once the gathering was set, he called for song from young lips and for wine. Every day he threw a treasure to the wind, never giving a thought to today or tomorrow.

For two weeks he lived joyfully like this, for who knows whose heart will be glad tomorrow. In the third week Kaykhosrow came to Gang and heard the clamor of flutes and the sound of harps. He laughed and circled the fortress walls, marveling at how the world turns. He said: the one who built such ramparts did not build them to face open battle. When he spilled the blood of Iran's king, he kindled the fire of this vengeance against us. He was amazed to see such a place, a heaven of ease standing before him. He said to Rostam: warrior, it is fitting that you see with a clear soul. What the Lord of the world has done for us, through goodness and through victory in battle. Where evil earns for itself the name of evil, through violence, crookedness, and folly. He fled from our hands into the fortress, and thus found rest from his fate. This evil man, who is the chief of the world's wickedness, is now worse in his old age. If I do not give thanks to God for this, then let me not keep vigil through the night's three watches. For victory and power come from Him; He is also the creator of the sun and the moon. On one side of that citadel was a mountain, so the army was free from worry of attack there. On the other side ran flowing water, whose sight refreshed a man's spirit. They pitched the royal tents across the plain, and on every side of the fort a champion stood ready. The army covered seven leagues of ground; the land itself raised its hand in awe of the host. Rostam pitched his pavilion on the right and asked the world ruling king for troops. On the left was Fariborz, son of Kavus, cheerful with his trumpets and war drums. They went and set up the pavilions, and thirdly Gudarz chose his ground. Night fell and shouting rose from every side; you would think the world's ear was split apart. The very heart of the earth leapt from its place at the wailing of horns, trumpets, and flutes. When the sun lifted the darkness from the sky and tore its musk colored garment, The king mounted his night black horse and came and rode around the army. He said to the elephant bodied Rostam, and to that famed chief of the gathering, I hold this hope: that Afrasiyab will never again see the world, even in his dreams. Whether he falls into our hands dead or alive, he will see the edge of God's own sword. I believe his troops will come from every side to help him at this battlefield. They will grow afraid, and out of fear give aid, not out of loyalty or desire for glory. Let us strive, before his army answers his call, to block the road against them. Let us bring down every rampart of the fort and cast all its stone and earth into the river. The hard days for the army have now passed, and the day of battle has settled into calm. When the enemy takes refuge behind a wall, the army fears neither his fight nor his hatred. He is broken hearted within this citadel, which after this will surely become a wasteland. When we recall the words of Kavus, let us turn our souls wholly toward justice. For he said: this vengeance, whether won or lost, time may bury under rust and dust. I will pass it down from son to son, on and on, until sixty times five years have gone. It is like a tree with fresh leaves: a heart set on kings' vengeance does not fear death. The father passes, but the vengeance stays behind; the son becomes the guide for this pain. The nobles called down blessings upon him and named him the pure faithed king. They said: may your father's vengeance be fulfilled through you; may you be nothing but king and victor.

The next day, when the sun rose over the meadow and set its golden lamp on the arch of the sky, a loud cry went up from the fortress, and the king fell deep into thought at those words. At once they threw open the gates of the fort, and the hidden secret was laid bare. From the fort came Jahn with ten horsemen, wise, learned, and men of substance. He came before the entrance of the royal pavilion and stood there among the men of renown. Then came Manushan, the brave and clear-minded, and led Jahn forward. When the wise man reached the king, his face vanished behind a flood of tears. Jahn the warrior stood amazed before him, and lifted the crown of pride from his head. When he came near the throne, he blessed the king and bowed low before him. He said: renowned king, may you pass through the world always in joy. May our land and soil be blessed by you, and may the heart and eyes of your enemy be torn out. May you be forever glad and devoted to God, our land spread open before you. May your coming and going be fortunate, and may they always tell good tales of you. I bring a message from Afrasiab, if the king will not be in haste to reject it. When the king heard Jahn's words, he ordered a golden seat brought forward. They set it beneath the wise man; he took his place and recited his father's message. He said to the king: Afrasiab sits full of grief, his lashes wet with tears. First I bring you greetings from the king, from that heartsick lord of the army of Turan. He says: thanks be to God, and to Him I take refuge, for I have seen a grandson risen to such rank, who leads armies and reigns as a king, who rides at the head of the horsemen. On his father's side his line runs back through the kings to Kai Qobad; on his mother's side, to Tur. His head stands higher than the kings of the world; in China his name is a crown upon the throne. In the clouds he is the swift eagle; on the water he is the bold crocodile of the sea. All are guardians of his throne; beast and bird are glad in his fortune. The great ones who wear crowns and jewels are, across the earth, your lessers. But stranger than the work of a wretched demon, who wants nothing but harm for us, was this: with all that kindness and honesty of mine, why did my heart turn toward ruin, so that at my hand the son of King Kavus, the noble Siyavash, was killed though guiltless? My liver is wounded by this, filled with pain; I sit apart, without sleep or food. It was not I who killed him: the foul demon stole from my heart the fear of the Lord of the world. Fate was the true cause; I was only the excuse, a tale caught in fate's own grip. Now you are wise and a king, one who welcomes devout and upright men. Look and see how many wide cities, full of gardens, halls, arenas, and palaces, have been laid waste in this pursuit of vengeance, with Siyavash and Afrasiab as the pretext. And how many warriors of battle, bodies like elephants, strength like sea dragons, whose only shroud was the maw of lions, whose heads no longer lay near their bodies, so that no dwelling is left in the desert, and nothing remains in the land but ruined plains. Nothing but vengeance and the cut of the sharp sword will leave our names to last until the Resurrection. This will not please the Creator of the world, that in the end we writhe under such destruction. And if you seek only war, be sure your vengeful heart will never rest a single moment. Look at the turning of the days, and take nothing else as your heart's teacher: we hold the fortress and the plains are yours; your head is full of vengeance, your heart full of blood. I call this stronghold my paradise; it is the land I raised and the field I planted. Here I have my treasure, here my army, here my royal seal and here my crown. Here is my harvest, here my food, here are my men for the day of battle. For you, the warm and pleasant season has passed, the roses, tulips, and bright colors are gone. Winter and cold lie ahead, when the hand freezes stiff upon the spears. When the clouds gather their folds like a robe, our earth turns hard as stone. From every side, when I call, an army comes; you cannot hold out against the turning of sun and moon. And if you imagine that in every battle the star of fortune will hand you victory, the mind of the heavens may swerve, and someone else will reap what your labor sowed. If you say: I will seize the Turks of China and hurl the sky down onto the earth, I will cut this gathering down with the sword and take you captive in my hand, do not think this too is impossible; no one is spared who does not wear down in the end. I am the grandson of the greatest kings, born of the line of Fereydun and the seed of Jamshid. I have God-given knowledge and glory, and the just God as my helper. When ill fortune closes in upon me, my heart wants no advice from any counselor. By God's command, in the hour when I choose, I will rise like a star against the sun. I will cross beyond the sea of Kimak and leave you my army and my land. This stronghold and fort will be my resting place; neither king nor army will see me again. And when my day for vengeance comes, then watch me marshal my army once more. I will come and take my revenge from you, and make my cause plain in every place. But if you drive this hatred from your mind and cast a spell of love over this land, I will open my treasury of crowns and belts, thrones, gold coins, and cups of jewels, more than Tur son of Fereydun ever gave to Iraj. Take it, and speak no more of vengeance. And if you wish to take China and Machin, that is your right; act as your heart desires. Khorasan and the land of Makran lie before you; my happiness rises and falls with yours. Along the road that King Kavus once traveled, I will send you as many troops as you need. I will make your whole army rich, and set you on a golden throne with a crown. I will be your ally in every battle, and in every assembly proclaim you king. But if you turn your head from my advice, and if you plan to follow the path of your forefathers, then once you turn back from here, make ready for war; I am prepared for battle, fierce as a leopard.

When the king heard the message brought from Jahn, he looked at him and laughed. In reply he said: Warrior, I have heard every word of this speech from start to finish. First, you offered me your blessing: may my throne and crown and royal seal endure. The greeting you conveyed from Afrasiab, and how you said his eyes were filled with tears, I have heard it. May the same blessing rest on my crown and throne; may I never be anything but glad and victorious. Second, you said you give thanks to God that you behold a son who knows his Maker, brighter in heart than all the kings of the world, more admired and more triumphant. God gave me everything you named; may wisdom be joined to all these gifts. However smooth your words may be, at heart you are neither pure nor a worshiper of God. One who is rich in knowledge shows it better in deeds than in speech. Blessed Fereydun did not become a star, nor did he rise above the dark earth. You say to me: I shall climb to the heavens, and in this way you have washed all shame from your face. Sorcery has become the stock of your heart, and words a mere ornament on your tongue. A tongue full of talk and a heart full of lies cast no light before a wise man. Do not call the murderer of a father the king of the world, now that not even Siavash's bones remain. You also dragged my mother from behind her curtain onto the road, and turned into such a vengeful enemy. While I was still unborn in my mother's womb, you were already kindling fire over my head. Everyone at your court cursed your wicked, misguided life, saying that never in this world had anyone, king or hero or true man, done such evil: to drag a woman through the assembly and hand greatness over to killers of men. The one who wields the whip strikes so that a daughter miscarries her child. Wise Piran came to that place and saw what he had never seen or heard before. It was God's decree that I would rise proud and honored in every gathering. He turned your harm and calamity away from me, for fate held a secret with me. After I was parted from my mother, just as a helpless infant would be, you sent me off to shepherds, throwing me to be fattened prey for wild lions. My nurse and my keeper were shepherds; I had no peace by day and no sleep by night. So it was until my days had passed, and then Piran brought me in from the wilderness. He brought me before you, and you looked and saw that I was worthy of the throne and crown. You would cut my head from my body, as you did to Siavash, and leave the body without a shroud. But pure God tied my tongue, and I stayed bewildered in my seat. You found me heartless and witless, and did not rush headlong into your evil deed. Look at Siavash: what he did in his honesty, and what he suffered from evil and treachery. He came from across the world and chose you, as befitted the way of the renowned. For your sake he set custom and throne in order; he came from afar and called you king. He kept faith and left that assembly so no one could call him a breaker of oaths. When you saw his frame and stature, his greatness, his courage, and his ways, that evil nature stirred in you, and you struck that pure heart down. You cut off that honored royal head as one cuts the head of a sheep. From the days of Manuchehr until now, you have been nothing but vile of body and ill of mind. The ruin began with Tur, when he stained his hands with his own father's kin. And so it passes down, son after son: no path of greatness, no rule of faith. You struck off the neck of famous Nozar, a father, a king, of royal seed. Your own good-natured brother Aghriras, who longed only for a good name, you killed him. As long as you have lived you have been vile; you are not of Adam's seed but of Ahriman's. If anyone tried to count your evils, they would outnumber the turnings of time. You have sent whole nurseries of victims to hell; do not claim you were born of humankind. Next, you said that the foul demon dragged my heart and mind toward wickedness. Zahhak said the same, and so did Jamshid, when their hearts despaired of goodness: that Iblis led our hearts astray and cut our hands short of every good deed. But their evil fate did not turn from them, born of a wicked nature and a corrupt teacher's words. Whoever turns his face from honesty and chooses crookedness and treachery, consider too the battle of Pashan, all the troops Piran slaughtered on the field. The ground turned to mud with the blood of Gudarz's clan; you seek nothing but suffering and the road to ruin. Now you have come with a hundred thousand Turkish riders, marching for war. You led your army to the Oxus for battle, and from among them Pashang came against me. You sent him to cut off my head, so that afterward you might lay waste my realm. But God, the ruler of the world, became my friend, and the fortune of my enemy was cast down. Now you tell me that you are glad of my throne and delighted by my good fortune. See how far my belief in that can go, when I recall your deeds. From now on I have no words for you but the sharp sword, until the day of resurrection. I will strive with the strength of treasure and army, with good fortune and the turning of sun and moon. I will stand in service before God, and seek no guide in this world but Him. So that the world may be cleansed of the wicked, I gird myself with justice and generosity. I will root the evil-minded out of the world, and strip the crown from every wicked head. Tell my grandsire everything I have said: in war, do not keep seeking so many excuses.

He gave him a crown inlaid with peridot, a golden collar and a pair of earrings. Right then Jahn went before his father and told him everything, point by point. Afrasiab was enraged by the answer: what Turkish horseman could sleep now? He shared out his treasury of coin among the troops, along with helmets, swords, thrones, and crowns. From the dark night until the sun rose in the sky, the mountain turned white like the back of a great elephant. Afrasiab drew up his army; his heart was full of pain, his head full of haste. When the war drums thundered from Gang, the earth turned to iron and the air to ebony. The king, chief of the priests, hopeful for good, mounted his saddle at first light. He rode around the fortress walls, studying how best to wage the battle. He ordered Rostam to bring one force, solid as a mountain, up along one flank of the sea. On the other flank stood Gostaham son of Nozar, and on a third the fortunate, wise Gudarz. On the fourth side the famous king himself, with drums, elephants, and many riders. He gave the army everything it needed and advanced upon the citadel. Then the king ordered his troops to dig a trench all around the fortress. For that work he chose everyone skilled in it, all who were masters of storming a stronghold, whether from China, Rome, or the Indies, battle-hardened warriors gathered from every side. Swift as coursers they circled the whole city, searching out every kind of weak point. He dug a trench two lances deep and spread the army out around it, so that in the dark night, unprepared, the Turks could not launch a raid. He set two hundred stone-throwers at each gate, two hundred catapults behind each division, and two hundred crossbows with archers at each gate, so that the moment a doubter's head rose over the fortress wall, a catapult stone would appear above him and pound down on his head like hail. Behind the catapults the men of Rome stood, girded tight beside their crossbows. Then the king ordered two hundred elephants dragged around the fortress on every side. They dug a tunnel beneath the rampart and set props under it. That monstrous wall was left standing propped up, lifted from its base on those beams, then they smeared the timber with black naphtha; so the vigilant king commanded. On one side, from catapults and arrows, the proud warriors' faces turned pale as yellow flowers. Below there was fire, naphtha, and timber; above, heavy maces hammering, blow on blow. On all four sides he arranged the assault just as a fortress siege should be waged. Then the king of the earth left that place and came before the Creator of the world. He walked away from the army to a place of prayer and shared his secret with the Maker of the world. Writhing on the dust like a snake filled with vengeance, he called out praise to the Creator. He said: Desire and greatness come from you; in every hardship, my help comes from you. If you find my cause just, do not let my feet slip from this ground. Cast the sorcerers down headfirst from their throne, and keep me happy of heart and fortunate. When he lifted his head from before God, he covered his bright chest with armor. He tied his belt at his waist and sprang up at once, entering the battle like rising smoke. He ordered that at every gate an army should press hard into the fight. They set fire to that wood with naphtha, and hurled stones down onto their heads. From the twang of the great bows and from the smoke, the face of the shining sun turned dark blue. From the catapults, siege engines, and the dust, the earth turned indigo and the sky deep blue. The trumpeting of elephants and the shouts of the chiefs, the flash of swords and heavy maces, you would think the moon was wrestling the sun, with the raining of arrows and the black dust. The black naphtha set the timbers ablaze; by God's command they burned like firewood. It was as if the toppling wall picked up its feet and moved from its place like a mountain. From that wall many brave Turks tumbled down headlong like falling rain, so that the world would suddenly fall into the trap and bring an end to that wretched fate. In victory, the roar of battle rose up from the king's army. They turned toward the breach in the fortress, and Rostam came charging, thirsty for revenge. Word reached Afrasiab that the wall of the citadel had been destroyed. Then Afrasiab came like a whirlwind and called out to Jahn and Garsivaz. He said: What good is the fortress wall to you now? The army must make its shield out of the sword. For the sake of our land and home and kin, and for the sake of our treasure and children, let us tie our garments one to another; we will not leave our home and country to the enemy. An army of Turks, group upon group, moved toward that breach like a mountain. They clashed like lions and raised a roar from both sides. The Turkish horsemen trembled like willows, quivering, their hearts drained of hope. Then the king ordered Rostam that every renowned warrior go on foot, to advance into that breach, and with them many vengeful spearmen as well. With quivers, swords, arrows, and axes, the horsemen stood while behind them waited the spearmen. War riders held their ground to protect them, at the moment when the fighting grew fierce. Cavalry and foot soldiers, band after band on every side, moved into battle like mountains. Rustam, hungry for revenge, tore into the whole army like a raging lion. He came on foot, whirling like dust, and toppled the black banner upside down. On that rampart he raised the purple standard of Iran's commander, marked with the figure of a lion. In the victory of Iran's king, a great roar of triumph rose from the battlefield. Many of Turan's soldiers were slain, and the fortune of the Turanians was overturned. When the fighting turned savage, Rustam seized two of them in his grip. Garsivaz and Jahn, both battle-tested, the very men on whom Turan's throne had stood. One was Afrasiab's brother, the other his noble son; such was the end that ill fortune brought them. The army poured into that city, a force scorched with grief and thirsting for revenge. They set out to plunder and to kill, and a great uproar of shouting and wailing rose. Women and children cried out and fled, abandoning their homes to the Iranians. How many women and children, still young, vanished beneath the feet of the elephants. The whole city of Turan scattered like the wind; no one gave a thought to home or homeland. The fortune of Turan's warriors was cast down, and in their grief all eyes were filled with blood. Wives, treasure, and children were taken captive; their souls broken and their bodies pierced with arrows. Then Afrasiab climbed to his palace hall, his heart full of blood from sorrow, his eyes full of tears. He went up onto the rampart where his palace stood and turned his gaze toward the city. He saw two thirds of his warriors dead, and the rest turned back in retreat from the fight. The clamor of horsemen, the cries of women, and from the backs of elephants the beating of drums. They drove the elephants over the living and crushed their backs into the ground. He saw the whole city in smoke and screaming, and nothing but slaughter, looting, and ruin. One man joyful, another sunk in pain and grief, just as is the way of this fleeting world. When Afrasiab saw how things stood, the terror and the collapse of the battle, no son, no brother, no land, no realm, no crown, no treasure, no throne, no belt of power, he said, with a heart full of grief and burning: «What has the turning heavens senselessly done to me?» «With my own eyes I have lived to see the day when killing came to me and death seems easy.» Full of sorrow he came down from that rampart, bidding farewell to the throne of his greatness. He kept saying: Will I ever see you again, days of joy, of peace, of ease? And from that place he vanished, dazed and gone; you would think he had flown off like the birds. In the palace raised inside the fortress, he had built a road beneath the ground. He chose two hundred of the famous warriors and, down that hidden way, disappeared. From there he took the road into the desert, and his whole kingdom was left in astonishment. No one in the world could give a trace of him; that was how he became a fugitive in secret. When Kaykhosrow entered his palace hall, he trod his fortune, high as Saturn, underfoot. The king sat upon his golden throne and sent his troops searching in every direction. They searched hard for some sign anywhere, but no news of that proud commander came. The king questioned Garsivaz and Jahn about the fate of the leader of Turan's army: How did he escape, and where is his resting place? Vanished from here, where is his refuge now? They spoke of every possibility, and Khosrow listened, yet no clear answer came to light. The victorious king said to the Persians: When an enemy is driven, wandering, from his throne, little name or glory is left him in this world; for him death and life are one and the same. Then he chose the wise from his army, the world-seasoned, discerning priests, and said to them: May you prosper, and always act with justice in every matter. I hand over to you the treasury of this ruined-fortuned Turk; guard it with care. The sun from the high heavens must not shine upon the private quarters of Afrasiab's palace. I do not want the voices of his veiled women to carry from the hall out into the streets. He sent a guardian to the herds that grazed loose around the fortress. The king harmed none of Afrasiab's kin, and treated them as befitted their high rank. When the soldiers saw him act this way, the whole army filled with talk and murmuring: Kaykhosrow has come here in such a manner, you would think he had come as a guest to his father's house. He does not remember his father's blood, whose head was severed, in vain, unjustly. Nor his own mother, whom they dragged from the throne, out from behind the veil, onto the open road. A shepherd raised him, and on sheep's milk this shrewd king was nursed. Why does he not, like leopards with sharp claws, raise havoc and uproar in that man's house? Why not tear down his palace and his hall and send its fire flaring up to Saturn? Then word of what the Persians were saying reached Kaykhosrow, door to door, all of it. He sent to summon the wise men and told them many a tale. You should not be harsh in every situation; a mind without wisdom deserves no praise. It is better to be just even amid our grudges, and to keep a good name in mind while we savor victory. Goodness is what remains in the world as a memorial; no one's time here lasts forever. This turning wheel of fate can heap plenty of cruelty on every one of us. After that, the king of the world commanded that the veiled women be brought out from hiding. When the Iranians learned of this, full of vengeance they rushed toward the palace. The warriors assumed that Khosrow meant to bring an end to these people's days. With contempt they dragged them out, ready to plunder and to kill. From the palace a wailing cry rose up: 'O just and deeply wise king, you know that we are utterly helpless; we do not deserve this scorn and reproach.' The chief of the noblewomen came before the king, entering unsteadily with her daughters. A hundred servants attended each daughter, and on every head a crown set with rubies. Their jewels shone like the radiant sun, though they bowed their heads low from shame. In one hand a censer, in the other a cup, they kept ambergris and raw aloeswood burning. You would have said that Saturn from the highest heaven was scattering stars down upon the earth. The chief of the ladies came near the throne and gave fervent praise and blessings to the king. Those beautiful girls, raised in luxury, bowed down before him in the same way. All of them wept bitterly together, living now in such misfortune. 'Take pity, in this day of need, on one who has known nothing but comfort and delight.' In their grief they kept offering a blessing: 'O kind-hearted Khosrow, generous man, how fine it would have been if you held no grudge at all in your heart against the land of Turan. You would have come here for a feast, walking freely, with greetings and messages from the kings. This land has no true master of its own; you set foot upon your grandfather's throne. Siyavash would not have been destroyed for nothing; but this is what became of the sun and the moon. The evil-natured Afrasiab did such deeds that he cannot even dream of begging your forgiveness. I gave him much advice, but it did no good; foolishly he kept turning his head from my counsel. My Creator is my witness that blood poured from both my eyes. Your kinsmen, Garsivaz and Jahn, whose chains now grate bitterly against you, over Siyavash, who was in my own house, what grief lay upon my heart and soul, for that ill-thinking man Afrasiab heard much advice, yet it profited him nothing.' So that a day like this would finally come upon him, and his kingdom would be turned upside down. His crown and belt given up to plunder, his days gone dark, his fortune reversed. Such a life is his very death; the wonder is that his skin does not split from his body. Now, for the sake of the innocent, look upon us; treat us by the code of kings. We are all pure kin of the royal house; in this world we answer to no name but his. For the sorcery and evil of Afrasiab, do not rush to punish these innocent people. What sense is there in humiliation, wounds, and bloodshed, in blindly attacking the guiltless? It is not worthy of great kings to cut off a head that bears no guilt. Your place, my king, is higher than this; no one remains forever in this passing house. Do only what your Creator will ask you for, so you feel no shame on the day of reckoning. When Khosrow heard this, his heart softened deeply toward those fair faces whose luck had turned. For those veiled women, out of that grief and pain, had cheeks once rosy now glowing pale like lamplight. The hearts of the wise twisted in pain, and each recalled his own children and wife. The chiefs of the army and its great nobles all called down blessings upon the king. Saying that the renowned king seeks no vengeance from them, for the sake of the Maker of the world. The thoughtful Kaykhosrow said: whatever is not pleasing to us, we will not inflict that same wrong on anyone, however much the heart may crave revenge. When I reflect on the deeds of that proud, renowned man, this does not seem right to me: that he wronged my noble mother, yet I should bring that same wrong down on another. That pure-born lord of the world commanded them to return to their homes. He told them: be at ease; do not listen to the evil words of any speaker. From now on you have nothing to fear from me; I hold no treachery or cruelty. No one wishes harm on his own body, and when his time comes, it will not last long. Rest secure in your own halls, entrusting your bodies and souls to God. To the Iranians the victorious king said: may this crown and throne endure forever. All the land of Turan is now in your hands; in Iran you have your homes and dwellings. Clear all hatred from your hearts; enchant this country with kindness. For their hearts already ache with such pain from us; from the bloodshed the whole land is turned to mud. I give you all the treasure of Turan, and to guard that treasure I will assign an army. Strive and act with goodness; when they saw winter from you, bring them spring instead. Before long I will make every Iranian, one by one, fully content from my treasury of gold. Hold your hearts back from spilling blood; the heads of the innocent must not be cut off. It is no act of manhood to rage blindly and to beat down someone already brought low. Turn your faces away from the women behind the veils, from anyone who keeps them sheltered in their lane. Keep your hands off other people's belongings too, for a friend can become an enemy over mere possessions. It does not please the Creator of the world that the victor should harm the innocent. Anyone who seeks to please me must not lay my domain to waste. And moreover, people call it tyranny and ill fortune when a great lord ruins a thriving land. After that the king ordered his army to open the doors of the treasury of the Turanian host. All except the private treasure of Afrasiyab, to which no one could gain access. The rest he shared out among the troops: hoards of weapons, thrones, and crowns. From every side, countless soldiers of the Turks came scattered to the king's side. He granted them safety and treated them kindly, and quickly set their affairs in order. He gave the chiefs their shares of the land of Turan, giving each renowned man a city. In every province, whoever refused his command did not escape the hands of his brave warriors alive. In that time they all became the king's servants, once the letters of the great lords were joined to his cause. From every direction envoys came before the king, each one setting out upon the road. With gifts and letters from the great lords, one by one they became the king's servants.

The chief secretary called the scribe to his side and told him everything that needed to be said. He opened the letter with praise, first, to the One who cleansed the earth of evils. He woke the sleeping star and toppled the leader of the sorcerers headfirst. Power, knowledge, and justice come from Him; the oppressed of the world find their joy in Him. Then he wrote: by the fortune of King Kavus, great, seasoned, and blessed of step, the stronghold of Afrasiab was breached, and the head of his fortune sank into sleep. On a single battlefield, proud warriors with heavy maces stood tall, and it seems a hundred thousand were cut down in one battle at the Golzariun river. After that a fierce wind rose up that tore the flourishing tree out by its roots. Many of the troops who had sought to seize power over us were swept into the water. On the field a horseman fought so that each of ours became prey to two hundred of theirs. From there he went to Behesht-e Gang, a fortress crowded with people and cramped for space. In the battle for that fortress, it seems thirty thousand were killed in the fighting. So it was: the man was a tyrant, and neither knowledge nor fortune came to his aid. He had spread his army across the whole face of the land, and now he has vanished from the world. From now on I will send word to the king of each day, as long as glory stays with me. After that he sat down in joy, a fairy faced one before him, wine in hand. So it stayed until spring turned its face toward them, and the world became a paradise full of color and scent. The whole plain turned the shade of silk brocade; the air took on the pattern of a leopard's back. Wild ass and gazelle roamed the plain; in this way many pleasant days passed by. With hunting cheetahs and birds of prey, and all the musk scented beauties of Taraz around, he ran down the beasts like wild ass and, by sheer force, piled his kills high. In neck like fierce lions, in ear and head like stags. He sent scouts in every direction, seeking clear news of the world's affairs. Then word came from China and Khotan, about Afrasiab and that gathering, that the emperor of China had allied with him, and the whole land was full of the noise of it. From China all the way to the Golzariun there is an army, and the Khan of China is their commander. No one knows the full count of that treasure, the servants and the harnessed horses, that the Khan of China sent him; they hailed him with praise as king. The treasure of Piran also fell into his hands: camel loads of gold coins, sixty times a hundred. When he had gathered that wealth from Khotan, he brought out an army that shatters armies. When such news reached the king, near the troops who had been granted safe passage, all the Iranians turned back and girded themselves to shed blood. When Afrasiab set out from Khotan, an army gathered around him so vast you would say the earth could not bear it, and no astronomer could count it. From China he turned his face toward Kaykhosrow, full of grief, with a vengeful army. When Kaykhosrow learned of that host, he sent several scouting parties out on the road. He commanded Gudarz son of Keshvad, and the commanders Gorgin and Farhad, to stay here with justice and good judgment, keeping watch on guard night and day. He said to Gudarz: these troops are yours; when the crisis comes, they are under your protection. Whenever you see even one of the Turks who shows the slightest loyalty to the enemy, hang him alive at once, with his two feet turned up above his head. Be free of worry when there is no danger; guard this army and this treasure. The drums thundered out from the royal pavilion, the clash of bells and Indian cymbals. In this way an army came from Gang so great that even the sun longed to fight it. When he left the city he drew up his lines and led the army toward the mountains. Two stages of march remained between the two armies; the world ruler summoned his proud chiefs. He said: tonight do not move at all; it is not wise to rest while making ready for battle. He posted scouts around the plain; all night they circled the army. He stayed there a full week, preparing his order of battle and his gear. On the eighth day a scout came from the road and told Khosrow the army had arrived. The king arrayed his troops so splendidly that the sun and moon stopped to gaze. When Afrasiab saw that army, he came and drew up a line facing it. He said to his wise men: this field of war is to my heart like a pleasure garden and a feast. I used to come gladly to the throne and to sleep; when there was no battle, I would rush eagerly. Now I have grown weary of always fleeing, a head full of vengeance, a heart full of strife. I think this comes from Kaykhosrow's good fortune, or else a new day has dawned over my head. I am resolved to meet him in single combat, whether I win my desire or find death and pain. Everyone who was wise said to him, whether they were his own kin or strangers: if the king himself must go into combat, then why have all this army, this wealth, this power? All of China and Turan stand before you, kin and stranger alike. May all our lives be sacrificed for you; so it has always been, and so is our pledge. If a hundred are killed, or a hundred thousand, do not count your own life as cheap. We are, to the last man, your well wishers; we live only by the glory of your crown.

Then a roar rose up from the army, and earth and sky filled with the clamor of battle. Stars appeared through the dark dust; the sun's pale face turned deep blue. The commander of the Turks chose from that gathering two seasoned, tested men. He sent a message to the king: you have left a long road behind you. Surely from Iran to the city of Gang, my king, the distance is a thousand leagues. Across sand and desert, mountain and cliff, the two armies swarm like ants and locusts. The ground has become a sea of vengeful blood, from Gang and China all the way to Iran. If the pure will of God were to carry the blood of the slain deep into the earth, it would surely turn into a sea like the Red Sea, and both armies would drown in that blood. If you want treasure from me, or an army, or the land of the Turks with its throne and crown, I will hand it all to you and vanish; only my life I hold, and its sole key is the sword. Do not do this, for I am like a father and mother to you; I too spring from the cunning line of Fereydun. If your heart is blinded by revenge for your father, then my honor has been muddied before your eyes. The fault in Siavash's death was his own; my own heart was full of grief and sorrow over it. And there is also the turning of the high stars, which bring both shelter and harm. Sixty years have passed over my head, and never did I fail to ride to battle with the great. You are a son, and you are the king of Iran; in war you are the claw of lions. Choose a battleground far away, not on the flank of a man who worships the king. Let us both go to the field of single combat, to a place far from either army. If I am killed by your hand, your fist will have dragged a sea monster from the deep. Do not war against your mother's kin and kindred; restrain yourself and do not boil so with hatred. And if you are killed by my hand, I swear by God's protection that from that host I will not let a single soul writhe in pain; the rest will see nothing but the dust of a lost battle. Khosrow heard the message from the envoy, and spoke thus to the son of Dastan Sam: This scheming Turk, this deceiver of men, cannot see the descent that follows every height. He slipped from our grasp by such trickery, and now pretends he has sat on the throne of Iran. He talks so much of single combat, perhaps only to seek Shideh's tomb. He is the grandson of Fereydun and the son of Pashang; it is no shame for me to fight him in combat. Rostam said to him: my king, do not hold this fire so close to yourself. It is a disgrace for a king to go to war, even if your opponent were Pashang himself. As for his saying, 'do not make war with all my army,' 'do not fight my clan and my land,' you have an army stretching from sea to sea; their purpose is other than these words. When you make a covenant before God with your ancestor, there must be no deceit hidden in your heart. Lead your massed army into battle; how long will you dwell on the words of a worthless, tainted man? When Khosrow heard Rostam's words, he set another thought at its foundation. He said to the envoy: this malicious man has thus tangled with me in war. He showed even more loyalty to Siavash than this; his tongue was full of spells, his heart full of cruelty. A commander gains no glory through crookedness, a rash tongue full of twists and a heart full of lies. If his only wish is single combat, then there are others besides me to fight him. Mighty Rostam is here, and brave Giv, who seek combat with elephant and lion alike. If a king seeks war against a king, why should this plain be filled with dead men? I will have no more of this quarrel with you; now you will see a dark and desperate day. The envoy turned back and came like the wind, and repeated to him all that he had heard. Afrasiab's soul filled with pain; he made no haste at all to start the battle. The king led his army into war, and the other army, of necessity, stirred as well. One side slow, the other in haste; the ground became like a churning sea of water. From the rain of arrows you would think a cloud was pouring hail onto helmet and armor. From dawn until the sun turned ruby-red, the ground beneath the hooves was soaked in blood. The armies withdrew when darkness fell, for the eyes of the riders had grown blind. The commander, with all his splendor, cunning, and equipment, returned to his own camp. He said to Tus: today the son of Pashang did not fight the battle as he wished. I think he will launch a night raid tonight, to purge the old pain from his heart. He ordered a trench dug across the road, on the side where the Turkish king's army lay. He said: let no one light a fire, and let no bell be allowed to ring out. From the army the king chose the mounted warriors who were bold, and entrusted them to Rostam. Another portion he chose from among the Iranians, men who would gird themselves for the charge. He gave that group to the commander Tus, and ordered him to move toward the mountain. Mighty Rostam drew his troops onto the plain, while the commander led his out toward the mountain. He ordered them to go far off, both wings to spread out onto the open plain. They kept no scouts, no candles or lamps, one force toward the desert, one toward the meadow. So that if Afrasiab should prepare a night raid on him at the hour of sleep, when his army came, they could close in from behind, and it would be trapped with no one to save it.

A trench was dug before and behind the army, and behind that trench stood the king with his troops and elephants. As night fell, the commander of the Turks tightened his belt to launch a raid with his soldiers. He called the veteran warriors of his army and spoke at length about all that had passed. He said: this cursed enemy, full of cunning tricks, has grown so bold against my ancestor's army. Right now all the Iranians are asleep, while our whole army is stirred up and restless. Now let us drive fear out of our hearts and strike them by surprise at dawn. If tonight we get the upper hand over them, we will sit victorious upon the throne. And if fortune does not shine on us, then all our schemes are wind and our courage a lie. On this they agreed and rose to their feet, preparing themselves for the night attack. From the army he picked fifty thousand seasoned, dagger-wielding men. The scouts went before the king, veteran men of dignity and rank. Among the scouts, the one who served as guide came near the royal tent of the enemy. He heard no cry of watchmen anywhere; you would think the whole world had gone to sleep. No sentries, no fires, no alarm; no one gave a single thought to Turan. When he saw this he turned back and came running: not one of them is awake or alert. All the sleepers are as good as dead, or else they have been drinking wine all day. There are no sentries anywhere; no one is guarding those sleeping men. When Afrasiab heard these words, light and joy grew in his heart. He sent his army ahead and mounted himself, tightening his belt among the champions to attack. The warriors moved out like a flooding sea and pressed forward at speed for the raid. On that march there was no clatter or noise, no blare of trumpets, no sound at all. When they drew near the royal tent, the horns suddenly roared out. The drums thundered from the saddle bows, and the black banner was raised upright. Every man in the vanguard spurred his horse, and a great clamor rose up. Many riders tumbled into the trench, and others turned their heads away from the fight. From one side Rostam surged out across the plain, and the sky went dark with the dust of the horsemen. From the other side came Giv, Gudarz, and Tus, with the wail of horns and drums before them. The king of kings advanced with the Kaviani banner, and the air turned purple with the blades of the riders. Shouts rose up: seize, bind, drag them off. No horse had strength left, no man had his wits. Of them, out of every hundred famous men only ten survived, those whom ill fortune had not swept away. When word of this battlefield reached him, the king of Turan's army was so badly shaken that all wept from their wounds, and their hearts were seared by the king's grief. He said: no wisdom, surely, can escape the turning of the heavens. Since the enemy is out for our lives, not our goods, we have no choice but to fight one last time together. Either we all give our bodies to death, or we set a royal crown upon our heads. A roar rose from both royal pavilions, and the world filled with the wail of trumpets. They gripped javelins and daggers, and the armies drew up ranks three leagues long. That battlefield became like a raging sea; neither the shining sun nor the moon could be seen. The troops came on wave after wave, like swells that the wind lifts from the water. You would say plain and gate had all turned to blood, and the sun had fled the turning sky. No one loved his own life anymore; it was as if the heavens had been smeared with pitch. Just then a dark wind arose, the like of which no one could recall. It lifted the dust from the battlefield and hurled it into the heads and eyes of Turan's army. It tore the helmets from their heads, and the king of the Turks stood astonished. The whole plain was covered with brains and blood; the very heart of stone took on the color of gore. The horsemen of Turan, who on a leisurely day would hold hunting the leopard beneath them, found they could not battle the turning heavens, for the wind kept lifting dust off the plain against them. When Kaykhosrow saw that dust and that wind, he saw the hearts and fortune of the Iranians rejoice. With Rostam, Giv, Gudarz, and Tus, he set the war drums beating from the rear of the army. The cry of 'seize and strike' rose from the center of the host: Rostam on one flank, the king on the other. Dust rose into the air like a cloud, a cloud whose rain was arrows and swords. Heaps of the slain lay everywhere like mountains, and the earth grew sick of their blood. The sky turned into an indigo shroud, and the ground became like a sea of blood. The heavens grew dark with arrows like an eagle's wing; Afrasiab, dazed, looked around. He saw that gleaming purple banner and hid his own banner at the center of the line. He left his army drawn up in ranks and rode off with the champions of Turan. A thousand worthy men of his own kin were beside him in that fight. By trackless ways he took to the desert, and through bodily hardship saved his life from his enemies. The king searched the army for his grandfather; he came racing to the center of the host. He roamed and hurried in every direction, but found no trace of Turan's king. When the army looked toward the center of the field, they saw no black banner anywhere. Then they begged the king for mercy and laid down their weapons of war. When Khosrow saw this, he treated them kindly and set them apart from his own troops. He ordered a golden throne to be placed and the tent adorned with the splendor of China. He called for wine and the musicians, and summoned many of the army's chiefs. That night he held such a feast that till clear dawn it was as if the dead rose from the dark earth. When the sun turned its back on the sky, the dark night grew harsh and heavy. The king of kings of Iran washed his head and body and sought out a place of worship. There no Iranian saw him, nor did any beast or wild creature hear his voice. From the coming of night until the moon rode the teak-dark sky, he wore that heart-brightening crown upon his head. He gave praise to the Creator, glad at how the world had turned. Again and again he pressed his face to the earth, two rivers pouring from his eyes down his cheeks. From there he came back to his crown and throne, walking gracefully, happy at heart and blessed with fortune. Whoever among the Iranians had fallen, whether slain or still alive, they lifted up from the dust, and left the bodies of the enemy in scorn. When they had cleared away the slain, they built tombs all across the battlefield. Whatever there was upon that field of war, the king of the world shared out among his army. From there the king went to the paradise of Gang, his whole army thriving and fully armed for war. When word reached Machin and China of the Turks and of the king of the land of Iran, the Faghfur and the Khaqan writhed in grief, and each thought of losing his royal throne. They regretted the help they had given, and with troubled hearts turned their minds to a remedy. The Faghfur said: from now on Afrasiab will not see greatness even in his dreams. By sending him our armies and our wealth, our own fortunes will surely be diminished. All this has brought us nothing but regret, for this affair will lay our city in ruins. From China and Khotan they prepared gifts and emptied a whole treasury for the task. He summoned a good-hearted envoy and spoke to him at length with fitting words. The Faghfur sent to the king a man who was good-hearted and well-meaning, with all the rare treasures of China, gold coins and untouched, flawless jewels. He sent them to the king as a plea for forgiveness, and the envoys set out on their way. The nobles of China came without delay; within a week they reached Gang from China. The victorious king received them warmly and seated them as befitted their rank. He accepted the gifts they had brought: rare treasures, sacks of coins, and fine tapestries. He told the envoy: go and tell your master not to waste our dignity on empty gestures. Do not let Afrasiab come to you in the dark of night, at the hour of sleep. The envoy turned back and came swift as the wind, delivering the whole message to the emperor of China. When the emperor heard it, at the hour of sleep he sent a man to Afrasiab. Saying: keep away from me, from China and Khotan; suffer for the evil you have done. Whoever loses his own way, misfortune comes and confronts the schemer head on. When Afrasiab heard these words, he grew remorseful for his old deeds. He cast aside all thought of royal glory and, only to save his life, took the trackless road across the wilderness. Since he faced the days in pain, hardship, and grief, he came racing on to Mount Asfaruz. Day and night he brooded over his enemy; day and night his heart clung to one obsession. He came from China to the sea of Zereh, his waist worn thin by suffering and by chains. When he reached that deep sea, he could see neither its middle nor its far shore. The boatman said to him: O king, you will find no crossing over this deep sea. I am seventy eight years old, and I have never seen a ship pass across it. The noble Afrasiab replied: blessed is the man who dies in the water. Since the enemy's sword did not kill me, just as it failed then, no hand can seize me now. He ordered each of the chieftains to launch many ships onto the water. Toward the fortress of Gang he hoisted the sail, surrendering himself to whatever good or ill might come. When he reached that place he slept and ate, and rested from the days of war. He said: let us stay here in gladness and give no more thought to the past. When my dark, dim star grows bright again, I will cross the sea of Zereh by ship. I will take my revenge on the enemy and make my path and my customs shine once more. When Kaykhosrow learned of these words, that the old man was hatching a new scheme, He said to Rostam: Afrasiab has gone by sea to the fortress of Gang. He has done just what he told us he would; the lofty heavens are his ally. He has crossed the sea of Zereh by ship, and all our toil has scattered on the wind. Between me and my grandfather there is no speech but the sword; I will not let go of this old feud. By the power of the victorious God, I will gird my waist to avenge Siyavash. I will spread my armies across all of China, and cross over the sea of Kimak. Once China and Machin are firmly mine, we will demand tribute from the land of Mekran. I will lead my troops across the Sea of Zereh, if the turning heavens wish me well. Even if I must halt in some places, perhaps at last the murderer will fall into my hands. You have borne great hardship, and left your prosperous homes behind. Take this one more toil upon yourselves; it is better than handing the world to the enemy. Our name will endure until Judgment Day, for our victory and the enemy's flight. At this the champions grew grim, their mouths full of sighs, their brows full of pain. For a stormy sea and such a host, with the wind against us and a six month road, who knows who will come out of the water alive? This was a bad turn for the army from Afrasiab. On dry land at least we are fighting, but on the sea we are in the crocodile's jaws. Each man muttered his own opinion, and when the talk had grown too much, Rostam spoke up: You chieftains, you seasoned lords who have seen the world and suffered its trials, we must not let this labor go without reward, sinking into comfort and ease. And another thing: this victorious king keeps reaping good fortune from his star. We marched from Iran all the way to Gang, and saw no one who dared raise a hand in battle. Whatever task a man sets out to do, he reaps its fruit; it came to this, and through this it will pass. When the army heard Rostam's words, they framed a fresh reply from the ground up: We are, all of us, the king's servants, and we cherish our service with love. On land and on water, the command is his; we are all his subjects, bound by his word. The king rejoiced at this and honored them, seating each in the place his rank deserved. He opened his grandfather's treasuries, and gave no thought to kinship or old ties. With gold coin and jeweled brocade they loaded the camels with a worthy burden. In the same way, a hundred thousand coins from the treasury they carried off along with the weapons of war. Ten thousand oxen to draw the wagons they took, in case they might be needed. On the camels, ten thousand coins from the treasury they loaded and sent along with the king. Then, at the hour of sleep, he gave orders concerning Afrasiab's veiled women, all the kin and relations there were, whether daughters or servants of lower rank, they set them all in litters upon the road, bringing them from the palace to the king's field. And two of the renowned, proud warriors, each one a mark and model of manhood. Jahn and the noble Garsivaz, both bound by the feet, were carried in a litter. All of Afrasiab's kin and family had wept until their eyes brimmed with tears from grief. A thousand Chinese Turks were taken as hostages, along with the treasures kept as tokens from the cities. At that moment the king handed them over to Giv and chose ten thousand of the finest Iranians. He said to him: You man of blessed fortune, go with the army to King Kavus.

He ordered the scribe to come before him and to bring paper and Chinese silk. He commanded that a letter be written in ink of pitch, musk, and rosewater concerning Afrasiab. When the pen grew moist with musk and pitch, it first offered praise to the Just One. He is the Sustainer, the One who brings all to completion; He is the Painter of earth and time. He created the elephant and the ant alike, from a mere straw to the salt sea's water. Before His power all things are one; He is the Lord of what exists and what does not. Whomever He nurtures with love, against that one the sky will never turn harsh. May His blessing rest on the king of the world, from whom the very fabric of peace is woven. I reached this fortress that Afrasiab kept for his rest and sleep. Within it were the throne and crown, greatness, the diadem, treasure, and army. Forty elephants of theirs were all captured; whoever turned to fight was left wounded. Now let Giv tell the king one by one all that happened on this battlefield. When you open your lips before God, pray for me by day and by night. We led the army to Machin and China, and from there I will march to the land of Makran. After that I will cross the sea of Zereh, if God's support is with me. Giv turned back from before the great king with a mighty army and valiant men. He moved like the wind and cut across the road, and came near to King Kavus. Then word reached Kavus the king about that noble, fortunate hero's son. He sent out a body of troops to greet him, and the nobles set out on the road. When brave Giv drew near the city with an army of warriors like a plain full of lions, when Giv came before the king, he kissed the ground before the throne. Kavus saw him and leapt to his feet; he laughed and stroked his face with his hand. He asked him about the king and the army, about the turning sun and the shining moon. Mighty Giv told all he had seen of the warriors and the great king. The old man grew young at his words; then he set that letter before the scribe. When the letter was read to the king of Iran, the whole assembly stood in wonder. They all grew joyful and glad, and their eyes filled with tears of happiness. They gave everything to the poor and heaped curses on the evildoer. King Kavus came down from his throne and lifted the royal crown from his head. He came and rolled in the dark dust, offering prayers before the pure God. From there he went back to his seat and set up celebrations all around the fortress. Giv kept telling the king all he had seen, the words he had heard from Iran's king's lips. He called for wine and the musicians, and summoned Iran's battle-tested chiefs. They talked of every kind of thing and heard reply upon reply, and so the dark night stole in. His companions left with candles from before him, his heart glad and content, to his own hall. When the sun raised its bright spear over the sky, night turned its reins and fled. The drum sounded from the king's court, and the warriors came to that royal hall. The world-ruler then called Giv before him and seated him on the famous royal throne. He ordered the spoils to be brought forward, along with the renowned, proud warriors. And the innocent veiled women too, those who behind the curtains had suffered wrong. And Jahn as well, and Garsivaz the shackler, who had dragged Siavash to his death. When he saw Garsivaz the evildoer, he cursed him, for he deserved the curse. They brought Jahn too, his feet in chains, near to the lofty throne. Kavus looked upon those daughters of the lord Afrasiab, his eyelashes wet with tears. He gave them a place behind the royal curtain and at once set servants at their side. The captives and those who had been of high rank, he arranged each one separately. One under guard, another in chains, they were taken from before the lofty king. After that all the wealth there was, of coin and untouched jewels, he gave to the deserving, so they would call down blessings upon the king of the land of Iran. The other captives he entrusted to the nobles, and brought both great and small to his hall. They prepared a place for Jahn, with food, attendants, and a guide. In the fortress there was a dark place, far from any heart, near a tomb. Such a place fell to Garsivaz's lot; such is the way of the turning age. Happy is the one who is a king with a generous hand and a pure, righteous heart, who knows the world will pass him by and does not wander about like a fool. When wisdom melts away into tears from both eyes, it is like a madman who longs for a doctor. After the king had finished dealing with them, he cleared the court of strangers. The scribe took up the paper and sharpened his pen's tip like a diamond. They wrote letters to every land, to every notable and every lord, that the Turks and China had wholly submitted to the king, and that leopard and lamb now drank at one stream. He gave silver and gold coins to the poor, to the wandering, and to his own people. For two whole weeks, before the king's court, they could scarcely make their way through the crowd of gifts. In the third week, at the seat of majesty, he sat at ease with royal glory. From the endless wail of the flute and the sound of song, the rose kept sending its greeting to the wine cup. For a whole week from the palace of Kavus the king, waves seemed to rise from the cups of wine. At the start of the new moon he prepared a robe of honor for Giv, setting it with gold and turquoise. Golden trays and turquoise cups, golden belts and gold-worked bridles, servants with necklaces and earrings, and bracelets too, and a crown set with jewels, the throne's own coverings and cushions, with color and fragrance and things to scatter about. He sent for Giv to be summoned and seated him on the golden throne. They brought the robe of honor to him, and Giv rubbed his face upon that throne in gratitude.

After that the scribe came in with graceful steps, bringing paper, musk, and fragrant perfume. They wrote a letter: from the Creator we have received justice, and we are content with our fate. Our son has become fortunate and victorious, worthy of greatness, of the crown and the throne. The evil one whom the world held in shame, who kept the world full of plunder and war, has by your hand become a wanderer in the world; no one speaks his name except in secret. All his years he was a shedder of blood, clinging to disgrace and ugliness. He struck off the head of the crowned Nozar, a memory left to us from kings and honest men. A brother killer, a vile creature, a slayer of kings, malicious, crooked, and troubled in mind. Do not let him rest his foot on the ground, whether in Turan, Mokran, or the sea of China. Perhaps the world can be freed of him; even his worthless head would then hold value. If the one just Judge, the single God, is going to be your guide, then wash the world clean of the torment of evil men, of the words and deeds of the foolish. Rejoice in the justice of the world's Creator; be a fresh foundation for the world. May I see you again in joy; my anxious heart is full of pain. From now on I will stand before none but the pure God, for from Him come both hope and fear. May you be victorious and glad; may your head stay green and your heart be full of justice. May the world's Creator be your guide, and may the head of the throne forever be your place. They set the king's seal upon the letter, and Giv chose the road to the king's palace. On the road he did not pause anywhere; he came to Kaykhosrow at Gang. He blessed him and gave him the letter, and recalled his grandfather's message before him. The king was gladdened by his words, and he called for wine, a musician, and a cupbearer. Victorious and happy he drank for three days; on the fourth, when the world's lamp blazed up, he gave the whole army helmets and armor, and recalled his grandfather's message to them. He entrusted that force to Gostahm son of Nozar, a famous and valiant army. From Gang he chose the road to China, and took the world into his grasp by the sword. No day was idle, no night was dark: scouts by day and sentries by night. In this way he went, weeping and full of vengeance, all the way to his father's city. He circled the garden of Siavash, the place where the blood shedder had set the basin. He said: from the one just Judge, God, I will ask that He be my guide, so that here too I may pour out the blood of Afrasiab, spilling it like water. From that place he went back toward the throne, whispering his secrets to the pure Judge. From the army he chose envoys, men who could speak well and understood both speech and reply. He sent messengers to the Khaqan of China, to the emperor and to the ruler of Mokran. saying: if you accept justice and obey, and repent your hearts of evil deeds, send provisions to the army, for you will have no choice but to meet us on our road. Whoever turns away from my command, or keeps his distance from my covenant, the army must be arrayed for battle against him, everyone who flees the feast's road. The envoy came to every land, to every place that had a renowned lord. The emperor and the Khaqan of China grew troubled, and so did the nobles of every land. They spoke to the envoy warmly many times, sweet words in a gentle voice: We are entirely the king's servants; we will not tread the earth except by his command. We will look at the passes, the routes for warriors, and see how far they have fallen to ruin. We will rebuild them fresh, stock them with food, stay there, and bring him all he needs. Everyone with any sense was saying: if he passes through us without harming us, we will give the poor a great deal, and prepare tribute and provisions as well. They gave the envoy endless gifts, and he came back to the court victorious and glad. The other messenger, when he reached Mokran, found the heart of Mokran's king to be otherwise. He went to his throne and gave the letter, and reported all the message he remembered. The king promptly humiliated the envoy, and filled the assembly's heart with dread. He told him: tell the king of Iran not to seek superiority over us for something unseen. All time lies beneath my throne; the world is bright from the glory of my fortune. When the shining sun rises over the sky, it first shines with love upon this land. I too have knowledge and a flourishing treasury, greatness, manhood, and strength of hand. If he seeks passage from me, that is fair, for every living creature is a king on the earth. If you pass through, we will not block your road; but do no harm as you pass with your army. But if you come into the city with an army, you will get no share of this kingdom. I will not let you cross my land, or set foot on any place in this border region. I will not let you remain the victor, even if fortune's star favors you. When the king heard such an answer, he drew his army out from that place. The world ruler came proudly toward Khotan, together with his famed assembly. The emperor and the Khaqan of China set out to the king with apology and blessing. They came three stages out from China to meet the king, they and their nobles on the road. They had made the whole road smooth as the palm of a hand, gate and plain arranged like a place to sit. All the land was covered with clothing and food, with the adornments of a feast and spread carpets. When the army drew near the king, they hung decorations along road and byway. They draped brocade on the walls, and above scattered saffron and coins. When the emperor grew familiar with the king, he went ahead and walked toward the palace. He said: we are the king's servants, if we are even worthy of servitude. A whole world has flourished by your fortune; the hearts of your well wishers have been gladdened. If our hall is not worthy of the king, still I think it is no worse than the road itself. The exalted king entered the palace, and sat upon the famed high seat. For scattering as gifts, the emperor of China brought a hundred thousand Chinese gold coins. He stood on his feet before him, together with margraves of noble mind. Khosrow stayed three months in China, along with the famed lords of Iran's army. Every morning the emperor's servants offered the king fresh gifts, again and again. On the fourth month the king of Iran set out from China, went to Mokran, and left Rostam behind there. He came on, and when he neared Mokran, he chose a worldly wise man from the army. He sent him to the king of Mokran and said: may wisdom be the companion of kings. Prepare provisions along the road for my army; adorn my station handsomely. Consider where we have come from; we are neither drunk, nor lost, nor asleep. The world is bright from my crown and my fortune; the heads of great men are beneath my throne. Only then do men seize others' property, when I am not there to reach everyone. When they cannot find fodder they make war, and press the world hard on the evil minded. But if you will not hear my words, you will wade into the blood of a great many people. You will lay all the city of Mokran to ruin, when you rouse lions to vengeance. The envoy came and delivered his message, but in that heart there was no room for message or justice. The witless head was dazed by those words; his blood boiled and his brain went dark with it. He gathered all his scattered troops together and prepared a battlefield on the plain. He told the envoy: turn around and go, return to that suspicious one, and tell him: by the turning of the dark days you have grown this glad and world illuminating. You will see, when you come, what a blow we deal; you will learn who the real men and heroes are.

When the king's messenger returned, the whole city of Makran was filled with alarm. Their army covered the land from mountain to mountain; every man of Makran took up arms in a rush. They brought two hundred war elephants, so many you would think there was no room left on earth. From the neighing of horses and the roar of the troops, the moon lost its way across the sky. You would say the earth had risen to the sky, and the sun had gone into hiding. The scout came to the king and reported that Makran had turned black with the dust of an army. The whole face of the country is banners and elephants; the king can see it now for two miles around. He gave the order, and they drew up their ranks, taking maces and daggers in hand. A scout came out from Makran onto the plain and circled the army all night long. The Iranian sentinel was Tukhar, a man for whom battle was an easy thing. He came and grappled with the scout, proud as an elephant and fierce as a raging lion. He struck with his sword and cut the man in two, filling the heart of Makran's king with dread. The two armies drew up their lines so that the sky vanished behind the dust. The troops advanced from both sides like mountains, and both hosts drew out their battle rows. Tus the commander pushed into the center; the world filled with the wailing of horns and drums. Out in front flew the banner of Kaveh, and behind it the warriors in their golden boots. The air was thick with arrowheads and feathered shafts; the world became like a sea of pitch. In the center the king of Makran was wounded, and from that wound his very life escaped. One man said, 'My king, let us cut off his head.' The king replied, 'We will not even look at it.' We do not sever the heads of royal warriors from their bodies, unless they are of the seed of Ahriman. His body must not be stripped bare; leave the fallen man in his armor as he is. Build him a tomb of musk and rosewater, a fitting resting place for a king. Cover his face with silk of China, for this is how the great ones meet their death. From that gathered host ten thousand were killed, riders and warriors who wielded the dagger. Eleven hundred and forty were taken captive; the survivors' hearts were full of grief. They carried off the elephants and the treasure, the royal tents and the adorned throne. The nobles of Iran grew rich; many came away with a throne and a crown. After that the bold, battle-hungry men turned their faces to plundering Makran. The cries of women rose from field and city; they tasted much of that suffering. They set fire to the city gates and seemed to hurl the sky down onto the earth. They struck down many of them with arrows, and took women and small children captive. When the king's anger toward that host began to cool, he ordered the army to withdraw. He commanded that the sharp-witted Ashkash should hold back from plunder, war, and turmoil. No one was to commit cruelty, nor to be harsh with the wretched and broken. From that city, everyone who was pious and just came before the king to plead for mercy. Saying, 'We are innocent and helpless; we have always suffered under the oppressors.' 'If the king sees that a head is guiltless, it would be fitting for him to spare it.' When the blessed king heard their words, he ordered a proclamation to be cried to the army. A voice rang out from the royal pavilion: 'You champions of noble judgment, 'From now on, if any outcry rises from any place, from injustice, plunder, war, or turmoil, 'I will cut the oppressors in two, anyone who holds no fear of the Just Creator.' The world-ruler stayed a year in Makran, and summoned heavy ships from every quarter. When spring came and the earth turned green, every mountain filled with tulips and the plains grew verdant. He arranged pastures for the horses and hunting grounds, and adorned the gardens with flowers and fruit trees. He ordered Ashkash to remain in Makran with the army for some time, to seek nothing but goodness and truth, and to let no wrong slip into his conduct. Then he took the road from that city into the desert, bearing all its hardships lightly on his heart. By the command of the pure God it so happened that in that desert they saw no bare earth. The sky was full of clouds and the ground full of young crops, a world covered with tulips and yellow blossoms. They brought food for the people forward, hauling buffaloes on wagons. On the plain there was greenery and places to rest, the sky full of clouds and the ground full of water. When he reached the shore of the sea, the warriors loosened the knots at their waists. The king brought with him all the sea-craftsmen and shipwrights from China and Makran. On land he did all that had to be done, then the men launched the ships upon the water. He ordered provisions to be loaded, enough for a road of a full year's journey. The fortunate, seeking king set out from the water's edge with dignity upon the sea. In that servitude he took to prayer, and began to praise the Maker of the world. He begged of the exalted Creator to bring him from the water to dry land unharmed, along with his war gear and his army, the nobles of Iran, and his throne. He said, 'O Maker of the world, knower of all that is seen and hidden,' You are the keeper of land and sea; you are the God of the depths and of the stars. Guard my life and my army, and my throne, my treasure, and my crown as well. The sea was so wild and turbulent that no one who fell into it survived. For six months the ship sailed on the water, and each man made a bed for himself upon it. In the seventh month, when half the year had passed, the north wind turned crooked and pushed them off course. They swung the top of the sail hard about, and it flashed like a bolt of lightning. A helping wave carried the ship along a path the sailor called 'the Lion's Mouth.' God willed that the wind of the air not turn against the king's good fortune. The army marveled at what they saw on those waters, and each one pointed it out to the king. In the water they saw a lion and an ox, and the ox stood its ground fiercely against the lion. There were creatures like men with hair long as lassos, their bodies covered in wool like a sheep. A group had heads like a buffalo's, their two arms set behind the body and the feet in front. One had the head of a fish and a body like a crocodile; another had legs like a wild ass and a body like a leopard. They kept showing these wonders to one another, and they called out praise to the Creator. By the mercy of the Maker of the heavens, the air turned gentle and the wind hid its face. For seven months they passed over the water, and no wind so much as glanced their way. When the king reached dry land from the sea, he looked out and saw the wide plains of the world. He came before the Creator of the world and pressed his face to the dust of the ground. They hauled the ships and boats out of the water; haste was needed, and haste he made. Desert and sand and open plain lay before him, and at ease he crossed the shifting sands. He saw cities all like those of China, with tongues that spoke like the land of Makran. In those cities the king rested a while and called for provisions to feed his army. The king handed that land over to Giv and told him, 'You have won your reward from fortune.' 'Do not be harsh even with the guilty, for the people have suffered enough over wealth and goods.' 'From now on I will not set anyone above another; I will bow in worship before the One who answers our cries.' He chose a renowned man from the army, one who could grasp and report what everyone said. He sent word to the local kings: whoever seeks peace and prosperity, let them come gladly to this court. And at the king's command they all set out. Not one of those chiefs turned his head aside; they came to the court like humble subjects. When the king saw them, he received them warmly and raised their standing as high as the sun. From the fortress of Gang he sought word again about Afrasiab and the royal throne. One of the men who could speak spoke up: 'From here on there is neither water nor mountain before you.' 'If you count it all out, the good and the bad, it is no more than a hundred leagues to Gang.' 'Now that the sea has been crossed, Afrasiab is at Gang with his people.' That news gladdened the king, and all his hardships grew light in his heart. In those borderlands they prepared robes of honor, then called for the horses of the seasoned veterans. The king gave the order to turn back, and he set out for the fortress of Gang with that army. In the region where the son of Siavash had marched, few people were left from all the injustice. He arrayed the army and gave out pay, and he called to mind the goodness God bestows. He kept saying that whoever seeks to do evil recoils from God's retribution. 'No one of you should stay in the town if from his hardship even an ant's path can profit.' When the world seeker saw the fortress of Gang, his face vanished behind the tears in his eyes. He got down from his horse and pressed his face to the ground, praising the Creator. He said: 'O just and pure judge, I am a servant whose heart is full of dread and awe.' 'For I have seen this rampart of my father's city, raised up so high it lifts its head above the moon.' 'Siavash, who by the pure glory of God, drew such a rampart up out of the pit.' 'A tyrant was the one who reached out his hand to do evil; every heart was wounded by his killing.' The whole army wept over that rampart for the blood of Siavash, who was innocent. He was killed by the hand of an ill wisher, and so the seed of vengeance was sown in the world.

Then word reached Afrasiab that the world-ruling king had crossed the water. He kept what he heard a secret, and in the dark of night he set out without telling anyone. He left the seasoned veterans behind and rode off alone, his heart full of grief. When Kay Khosrow entered Gang, his head was heavy with sorrow and his heart with blood. He saw that heart-brightening garden like paradise, its meadows glowing like the lamps of heaven. In every corner a spring and a rose garden, the ground carpeted with hyacinths, the branches alive with nightingales. Everyone said: what a place this is! Let us stay right here, content until death. After that the watchful king gave the order to search for the king of the Turanian army. They searched the plains, the gardens, and the palace, taking guides in every direction. The searchers went about like men out of their senses, hoping to find some trace of him somewhere. As they rushed eagerly to hunt him down, they found many of his followers. They killed many innocent people, but no sign of the tyrant king appeared. The king stayed in the fortress of Gang for a whole year, in feasting and celebration. The land was like a heart-pleasing paradise, full of flower beds, gardens, and orchards. The king's heart would not let him leave; he stayed on in Gang, victorious and happy. All the champions of the Iranian army came together to the king. They said: if the king's heart does not stir from this place, and he has no thought of returning to Iran, surely the scheming Afrasiab has slipped past to that other side, across the sea. So old, he sits on Kavus's throne, without splendor, majesty, treasure, or army. If Afrasiab marches on Iran full of vengeance, who will be there to guard the land of Iran? If he takes back the throne and crown again, all our toil will come to nothing. Then the king said to the Iranians: this advice is paired with real benefit. So he summoned the nobles of that city and spoke at length of the hardships they had endured. From among them, the most worthy, the most honored and needed man of the city, they dressed his body in a robe of honor and brought out the fortress steed for the new governor. The king said: stay here in joy, and drive all suspicious thoughts from your heart. He gave away as much wealth as there was, of horses and adorned treasure. The whole city grew rich through his gifts, receiving armlets, a throne, and a crown. At the hour when the rooster wakes, the sound of the war drums rose from the court. The army, hurrying and eager for the road, turned their faces toward the desert. From every land the famous nobles came, from wherever there was a leader of rank. They brought provisions to the king, fit for a monarch and his army. Along the road where the army passed, field and gate alike turned into a marketplace. In mountain, desert, and dwelling place, no one dared lift a hand against another. The great ones, with gifts and offerings, came out to welcome the monarch. When robes of honor came to them from his treasury, he let them join him and share his hardships. Giv came out to meet him with an army, and with every leader of rank from that city. When Giv saw that proud head and royal glory, he dismounted and bowed low before him. The king showed them much favor, and gave them places in the manner of kings. When Khosrow reached the ship, he came down and raised the sail. For two weeks he stayed upon that sea, speaking at length with Giv. He said: whoever has not seen Gang should never wish to linger in this world. He gave the order and they made things ready, launching two boats upon the water. Everyone who knew the ways of ships, and who dared the deep sea, he ordered them to raise the sail and press into the treacherous sea. A sea voyage that would take a year, the wind drove them across in seven months so swiftly that the king and the army crossed to this shore without even a sleeve wetted by a crosswind. The commander led his army onto dry land, they tied up the ship and saw the open plain. He left food and clothing there for the sailors and those who had struggled at sea. He ordered gold and robes of honor from his treasury for everyone in the world who had toiled for him. From that water he took the desert road, and the whole world was left in wonder at him. When Ashkash learned of it, he set out, coming before the king with a prepared army. He dismounted from his horse and kissed the ground, and offered his praise to the king. They adorned all of Tiz and Mokran, and summoned musicians from every quarter. On every road and off it rose the sound of lutes; you would think the very air was woven of music. They hung fine silk upon the walls, and scattered coins and sugar beneath the horses' feet. In Mokran, every leader of rank, every famous man and warrior, went with gifts and offerings to the victorious monarch. And all the wealth that was in that land, Ashkash gathered up and presented in fine order. The king accepted from Ashkash what he saw, and chose out one of those noble men. He made him lord over the land of Makran, gave him many robes of honor, and blessed him. When he came from Makran and Turan to China, with himself and the proud chiefs of Iran, Rostam, son of Zal and grandson of Sam, went out to meet him, with an army glad of heart and joyful. When Kaykhosrow appeared from afar, the proud rider raised his royal canopy. Rostam dismounted and bowed low, and the lofty king embraced him. He told of the wonder he had seen in the water, of how the sorcerer Afrasiyab had vanished. In China too he stayed as Rostam's guest, then in a week rode on from China to Machin. He went toward the tomb of the hero Siyavash, in the month of Esfand, on the day of Ard. When he reached his father's city, his cheeks were streaming with tears, his heart torn with grief. To the very place where the ill-omened Garsivaz and Goruy, cursed slaughterer of men, had shamefully cut off the head of Iran's king, the ruler came. He poured that dark earth over his own head, and clawed at his face and body in mourning. Rostam pressed his face to that soil, and cursed the soul of the vile Goruy. Kaykhosrow kept saying: O king, you left me behind in the world as your memorial. I have spared nothing in avenging you; I will remain in this labor as long as the world lasts. I have emptied the throne of Afrasiyab; from now on I will seek neither rest nor sleep, in hope of seizing him in my grip and making the whole world dark and narrow before him. After that he turned his mind to the treasure his mother had told him of, that had been his father's. He opened the treasury and gave out its wealth; for two weeks he stayed happy in that city. He gave Rostam two hundred sacks of gold coins, and to Giv he gave much as well. When Gostaham son of Nozar heard that the king had made his way to his father's city, he went out to meet him with a great army: the nobles and champions of Iran. When from afar he saw the king's crown and diadem, he covered much of the road on foot. All together they called down blessings on that just ruler of the earth. He ordered Gostaham to mount again, and rode the whole way joyful, hand in hand with him. From there they set out for the paradise of Gang, bringing the army before the radiant, splendid king. Loyalty is like a fruit-bearing tree that yields fresh fruit at every season. Not one man rested from feasting and hunting, that lone rider, that same king. Every Turk of high rank was so favored that he wanted for nothing. By the shining day and at the hour of sleep, he kept searching for news of Afrasiyab. None of them could give any sign of him; no one in the world even spoke his name. One night the ruler washed his head and body, then went off alone with the sacred Zend and Avesta. All night before the Creator of the world he wept, his head pressed to the ground. He said: this helpless servant carries a soul forever filled with pain. In all the mountains, rivers, deserts and waters, he can find no trace of Afrasiab. He said: O just Judge, it is you who gave me pride, strength, and glory. He never walked your righteous path; he counted no one in the world as worth anything. You know he does not follow justice or the right; he has spilled the blood of many innocents. Perhaps you, the one just God, will guide me to that evildoer. You know that I myself am one who praises you, a servant of the Creator. He has no name or voice in the world worth speaking of; things hidden from me are not hidden from you. If you are content with him, O just one, then turn my head away from this battle. Put out this fire of vengeance in my heart, and bring my will into harmony with yours. From the place of prayer the proud young king, blessed with victory, came back to his throne. For a full year he stayed in the fortress of Gang, resting from movement and the machinery of war. When his stay in Gang grew long, he began to long to see Kavus. He handed that land over to Gostaham son of Nozar, from Qachghar all the way to the sea of China. He gave Gostaham a countless army and told him: keep your heart alert, and be glad. Reach out to China and the land of Makran; send messengers and dispatches everywhere. Keep seeking news of Afrasiab, so the face of the earth may be rid of him. From that place he took all the treasure there: gold coins and untouched gems, musk and servants and gold bridles, robes and horses and thrones and slaves, carpets and Chinese wares, and everything that comes from the land of Makran. Forty thousand yoke of oxen drew the wagons the king drove on ahead. He said: no one has ever seen the like before, nor been given greater wealth than this. The army was so vast that over mountain and plain the troops kept marching for ten days and nights. When the rear guard set out and the vanguard led, each day they reached a fresh halting place. He advanced in the same manner until he reached Chaj, where he hung his crown above his ivory throne. The king stayed a week in Sogdia, and all of Sogdia became his loyal well-wishers. From there he reached the city of Bukhara; the army was so vast that the very sky was hidden from view. He ate and rested there a week, and through the second week he never changed his clothes. Then he came, wailing, to the fire temple, still grieving over that dragon now destroyed. It was a place that Tur, son of Fereydun, had raised, and within it he had built great palaces. He scattered silver and gold among the priests, and cast a store of jewels upon the fire. Then from that place he set out on his way, the king moving on, glad and content at heart.

He crossed the Oxus toward Balkh, having tasted much bitterness and turmoil from the world. The king stayed a month in Balkh, then at the start of the next month set out from there. In every great city he passed, a renowned chief was left behind, proud, with a garrison. They hung decorations along road and byway, wherever the king and his army went. They adorned the whole land of the kingdom, and called for wine, music, and minstrels. They scattered coins and saffron, gold and musk, everywhere from end to end. In the city, everyone who was poor, or who lived only by his own labor, he gave money from the treasury to each one; fifty-five purses were handed out. At the week's start he headed for Rey, toward Fars, near King Kavus. Two weeks in Rey he gave gifts and feasted; in the third week he set out for Baghdad. From Rey he sent several couriers to the fortunate Kavus. The old king's heart was refreshed by the news; you would think he had grown young again. He placed golden thrones in the halls, and decorated the house in the manner of China. They hung decorations across city and road, every quarter, lane, and marketplace. All the nobles came out to greet him, the great ones and warriors of every city. Along road and byway they raised canopies; the world became like brocade woven with gold. They mixed musk with jewels and poured them down from the canopies over the crowd's heads. When King Kavus came out of the city with his fortunate and renowned men, he came toward Taleqan and Marv-Rud; the world was full of the sound and song of music. Then, on the road to Nishapur, the two kings caught sight of each other. When the young king saw his grandfather in the distance, he spurred his swift horse forward. The grandfather blessed him and gave praise worthy of the Creator of the world. He said: without you, may the world not exist, neither the throne of greatness nor the crown of kings. For the sun has never seen a king like you, nor armor, nor horse, nor throne, nor crown. From Jamshid down to Fereydun, neither sky nor earth has seen a king like you. No one among the great has toiled like this, nor uncovered the hidden things of the world so openly. May the bright world be blessed by you, and the heart and soul of your enemy be torn out. If Siavash's day were to return, even he would need your glory. The king said to him: this comes from your good fortune; I am the fruitful branch of your tree. He brought emeralds, rubies, and gold, and poured them over the king's crown. So much that around the jewel-inlaid throne, its very steps vanished beneath the offerings. Then he ordered: summon the gathering, and in another hall set out a feast. In the golden garden hall they sat, the noble great ones together with the king. The king told of the wonders he had seen at sea, and the renowned men listened. He spoke of the ocean and the fortress of Gang, filling the mouths of the famed with astonishment. Of the delight of that plain, that city and meadow, its gardens and orchards bright as lamps. Kavus was left in wonder at him, and took the measure of all his deeds. He said to him: a new day and a new moon, like new words and a new king. No one has seen a king like you in the world, nor has this tale reached anyone's ears. Now, until we raise a new star for this, let us all recall the king with manly courage. They adorned that golden garden hall; the ruby-lipped cupbearer brought the wine. For a whole week from the hall of Kavus, waves rose from the wine cups. On the eighth day the king opened the treasury; he made a station to reward all that hardship. The great ones who had been with him through battle and feast, through joy and sorrow, were dressed in robes of honor fit for their rank, in the finest the treasury could offer. Then each went off to his own province, proud, with a renowned army. After that he turned to the army's affairs, and paid a year's wages from the king's treasury. Then the grandfather and the world-seeker sat alone with a counselor. Thus said Khosrow to King Kavus: from whom but the Creator can we seek our path? Through desert and a year's journey of sea and mountain we traveled, a whole band with grief in our hearts. Across plain, mountain, and the watery sea we found no trace of Afrasiab. If he reaches Gang for even a moment, he will at once gather an army from every side. All hardship and struggle still lie ahead of us, even though the just God is our helper. When the grandfather heard his grandson's words, he laid down a foundation of elderly advice. He said to him: let the two of us ride like this on our horses to the shrine of Azargoshasb. Let us wash head and body, hands and feet, as a man who worships God should do. With reverence to the Creator of the world, let us secretly offer our prayers to Him. Let us stand upright before the fire, so that perhaps the pure God will guide us. To the place where Afrasiab has taken refuge, may the Guide show us the way of justice. On this vow of reverence they two became as one; neither strayed even slightly from the path. With their vows they both mounted their horses, riding hard toward the shrine of Azargoshasb. Their hearts full of fear yet full of hope, they went in white garments. When they saw the fire they began to weep, as if scorched upon the fierce flame. There the two kings, weeping and mournful, remained in pain, calling out for help. They called upon the Creator of the world, and scattered jewels before those priests. When Khosrow washed his face with the tears of his lashes, he scattered gold coins over the Zend and Avesta. For a week they stood before God; do not imagine they were fire-worshippers, for the fire in those days was the place of prayer, and the worshipper's eyes were full of tears. However long your thoughts may stretch, still you are not free of need for the pure God. For a whole month in Azarabadegan the kings and the noble free-born ones remained.

After that, things went so badly for Afrasiab that he wandered everywhere without food or sleep. His life felt unsafe, his body useless, always trembling with fear of harm. He searched the world for a hiding place where he could feel safe and whole. Near Bardaa there was a cave, high on a mountaintop untouched by the world. No bird could fly above it, and below no lion or wild boar left a track. He brought in food, and in fear for his life made himself a shelter high inside the cave. It was far from every city and close to water; they call the place the Refuge of Afrasiab. For a long while he stayed in that refuge, sorry for what he had done, his heart full of blood. When a proud king becomes a shedder of blood, he will not sit long on the royal throne. In those days there lived a good man, of the line of Fereydun the wise teacher. A worshiper with royal glory and grace, ever ready to serve his king in every task. His whole place of worship was the mountain; he had left all pleasures and kept far from the crowds. This renowned man's name was Hom, a devout worshiper far from home and country. On that high mountain stood a dwelling, very close to him yet far from all people. He had built a place of worship and wore rough wool; from its opening a moan reached his ear: 'O king, renowned lord, greatest of the great, judge over the mighty and the judges themselves, All the Turks and all China were under your command; your word reached to every corner, now you hold only a cave in your grasp; where is your crown, where are your men of war? Where is all that strength and manliness, the courage, the power, the wisdom? Where is that greatness, the throne and the crown; where is your realm and all those armies, now that you are inside this narrow cave, fleeing into a fortress of stone?' When Hom heard this lament in Turkish, he set aside his worship and left his dwelling. He said to himself, 'This moaning in sleep can be no one but Afrasiab.' When the thought settled firm in his heart, he searched a while through the dark cave. He came down from the mountain at the hour of sleep and found that refuge of Afrasiab. He came on like a raging lion, loosening a cord from around his woolen robe. The lasso he wore in place of a girdle, kept always under God's protection, he carried into the refuge, took it in hand, and when he drew near he bound the man's arms. He set off dragging him along behind, hauling him through hardship like one half dead. It is no wonder if you are amazed at such a fate: whoever rules over the world, should choose nothing but a good name; he must walk right and graze on goodness. He chose one cave in all the world, and never knew that cave was a den of doom. When Hom had bound that king by the arms, he began to lead him from his resting place. The king said to him, 'You clever and fearless man, servant of the pure God who holds all things, what do you want from me? Who am I in the world, sitting in this cave with my sorrows?' Hom said, 'This is not your true home; the whole world is filled with your name. Which king of the world killed his own brother? Who else has dared to defy the pure God? Think of Aghriras and the famed Nozar, and Siavash, who became a memory in the world. Do not shed the blood of the innocent, and do not hide in the depths of a bottomless cave.' The king said, 'And who in this world do you call innocent, O man of power? The high heaven decreed it thus: that pain and grief and harm should come from me. No one escapes God's command, even if he could trample a watching dragon. Have pity on me, for I am helpless, however much I have wronged myself. I am the grandson of blessed Fereydun; I am tearing myself free from the knot of your lasso. Where will you drag me, bound and despised? Do you not fear God on the day of reckoning?' Hom said to him, 'You wicked, evil schemer, surely little time is left to you. Your words are like a fresh garden of roses, but your fate lies in the hand of Kaykhosrow.' Hom's heart twisted at that plea, and he loosened the royal lasso around him. Knowing the pious man had taken pity on the king's lament, Afrasiab wrenched free, pulled himself away, leapt into the sea and vanished.

It happened that Gudarz, son of Keshvad, was riding along with Giv and the noble warriors. Moving swiftly toward the king, he cast a long look out over the sea. His eye fell on Hum, holding that lasso, pacing wretched and restless along the water's edge. He saw the water was dark, and the devout man's eyes were fixed and staring. He thought to himself: this pious man must be hunting something in the sea of Chichast. Perhaps a whale has seized the tail of a fish, and he stands amazed at the sight. He said to him: pious man, whatever you are hiding, bring it into the open. What are you searching for in this sea? Are you only washing your weary body? Hum answered him: proud warrior, look closely at what has happened here. I keep a place high on this mountain peak, a hermitage for a servant, far from any crowd. On a dark night I stood in worship before God; all night long I was among those who praise Him. At the hour when the birds begin their morning cries, a bitter, mournful wail reached my ears. At once my clear heart guessed that I would tear the root of vengeance from the world. A voice like that, at the hour of sleep, could belong to no one but Afrasiab. I began to search every mountain and cave, until I found that grieving man in a hollow. I bound both his hands hard with my sacred cord, since those two fists had spilled so much blood. I dragged him down from the mountain at a run, and he wailed and lamented like a woman. With all his crying, shouting, and pleading oaths, I loosened his bonds just a little. Right here he broke free from my grip, and his escape pierced my heart and soul. He has hidden himself in these waters of Chichast; I have told you the truth exactly as it is. When Gudarz heard this tale, the words of the truthful men came back to him. From there he went to the fire temple, as a man goes when his heart is shaken. First he offered praise to the fire, then began his prayer to the Creator of the world. When he finished, he brought the hidden secret out and reported what he had seen to the kings. At once the kings mounted their horses and rode from the palace of Azar Goshasb. The monarch grew thoughtful at those words and came to the pious man. When Hum saw those chief and crowned kings, he spread his righteous blessing over them. And all the kings called down the Creator's blessing upon him. King Kavus said to Hum: thanks be to God, and to Him I turn for refuge, for I have seen the face of a man who worships God, one strong, wise, and mighty of hand. The devout Hum answered thus: may your land flourish through your justice. May this king enjoy a blessed New Year, and may the hearts of his enemies be torn out. I was worshipping here in these mountains when the king passed by the fortress of Gang, and I kept praying that the Creator would keep the face of the earth flourishing through him. When he returned, I grew glad and joyful, and went before God in prayer. One night the blessed angel Sorush suddenly revealed to me what was hidden. A cry rose from this bottomless cave; I listened and turned my ear toward the sound. Someone wept bitterly for an ivory throne, for a kingdom, an army, a sword, and a crown. From the peak I came down to that narrow cave, a lasso and my sacred cord in my hand. I saw the head and ear of Afrasiab, who had made that place his shelter and his sleep. I bound him with the lasso hard as stone and dragged the helpless man from that tight place. At his pleading I loosened the lasso, and when he reached the water he slipped his bonds. Right now he is hidden beneath the water; his trace must be cut from the world. If fate should bring him back, blood and affection will stir in him for Garsivaz. If the exalted king commands, let his brother's feet be put in chains, and let raw oxhide be sewn onto his shoulder until his strength and vigor drain away. When Afrasiab hears his voice, he will surely rise from the sea's waters. The king ordered, and the guards at the gate came forward with swords and Gilan shields. They brought out the wretched Garsivaz, whose evil had troubled the land. He commanded the executioner to strip away and tear the veil from that cursed man's face. He sewed raw oxhide onto his shoulder until no strength was left in his body. As his skin split, he cried for mercy and begged the Creator to help him. When Afrasiab heard his voice, he rose from the water, weeping and full of grief. He swam through the sea with steady strokes and came to the place where there was firm ground. When he heard his brother's cry from the shore, what he saw was worse to him than death. When Garsivaz saw him in the water, his eyes full of blood and his heart racing, he cried out: king of the world, chief of the famous, crown of the great, where is all your custom and ceremony and throne? Where is your crown and your vast army? Where is all your wisdom and strength of hand? Where are those nobles who served their king? Where is your glory and fame in battle? Where is your delight and cup at the feast? That now you are reduced to needing the sea; such a cruel, tardy star has risen over you. When Afrasiab heard this, he wept and let bloody tears fall into the water. He answered thus: I have wandered the whole world, openly and in secret, hoping to escape this evil fate, yet worse than the worst has now come down on my head. Life has become worthless to me now; my soul is filled with pain and sorrow. The grandson of Fereydun and the son of Pashang has his head snared in the jaws of the crocodile. They tear the skin from him with the hide, and I see no one whose eyes hold any shame. The tongues of the two great men were full of talk, while the devout man's soul was full of searching. When God's servant saw him and heard their bitter lament, he came out along the island's edge, when he had spotted him a little from afar. He loosed that royal lasso from his waist and came bent double like a raging lion. He threw the coiled lasso, and the king's head fell into its noose. He dragged him onto dry land from the sea's water, and strength and sense left the ruler Afrasiab. The man of faith seized him by the hand, pulled him from the sea in disgrace, and bound him. He handed him over to them and turned back, as if he had become one with the wind.