Part 3: Afrasiab at Beikand

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.