Part 11: The Great Battle at the River

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.