English
The Night Raid That Failed
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.