English
Section 17: The Two Armies at War
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.