Sindokht Sets Out to See Sam

When the story became known throughout Kabul, the ruler's head filled with rage. He flew into a fury and summoned Sindokht, unleashing all his anger over Rudabeh upon her. He told her: There is no other choice now, for I have no ground to stand on against the king of the world. I will bring you here with your daughter, that shameless girl, and put you both to a cruel death before the assembly, so that perhaps the king of Iran may be freed from this wrath and hatred, and the land may find peace again. For who in Kabul dares to fight Sam? Who would dare taste the blow of his mace? When Sindokht heard this, she sat down quietly, her mind searching, her heart set on a remedy. From her heart she drew a plan and put it in place, for she saw deeply and her wisdom kept growing. Then she came running, arms folded in respect, before her lord whose face shone like the sun. She said to him: Hear one thing from me, and if later another wish stirs in you, act on it then. If your wealth exists only for your own sake, then give it away, and know that this night is pregnant with what tomorrow will bring. However long the night may drag on, its darkness will not last forever. Day will come and grow bright as a spring, and the world will glow like a ruby of Badakhshan. Mehrab said to her: Do not tell me old tales fit for heroes. Say what you know and fight for your life, or else wrap yourself in a shroud of blood. Sindokht answered: O proud one, perhaps you will have no need of my blood. I must go to Sam, and I will unsheathe my tongue like a sword from its scabbard. I will tell him what deserves to be said; wisdom ripens raw words into meaning. The risk of my life will be mine, the wealth yours: hand over to me your finest treasure. Mehrab said: Take the keys; never let grief over treasure weigh on you. Deck out servants, horses, throne, and crown, and take them with you on the road. Perhaps then the city of Kabul will not be burned because of us; after it has withered, it may bloom again through us. Sindokht said: O renowned one, count wealth as nothing beside a living soul. You must not, while I am off seeking a remedy, turn your harshness upon Rudabeh. In all the world my one sorrow is for her; today I stand by you keeping my pledge to her. I do not grieve for myself; all this pain and sorrow of mine springs from her. First she took a firm oath from him, then bravely set out to seek a way through. She adorned herself in silk brocade and gold, her head crowned with pearls and precious rubies. Then from her store of gold, to give as tribute, she brought out some thirty thousand dinars. They led out thirty horses with golden bridles, some Arabian, some Persian. Sixty servants wearing golden collars, each with a golden goblet in hand, the cups full of musk and camphor, rubies and gold, and heaps of turquoise and other gems. Forty robes of brocade figured in gold, their borders worked with gems of every kind. Two hundred Indian swords hilted in gold and silver, and thirty more with blades tempered in poison, their steel gleaming. A hundred she-camels with reddish hair, and a hundred sure-footed pack mules for the road. A crown of royal jewels, together with a collar, bracelets, and earrings. A throne of gold as vast as the heavens, set with gems of many kinds, its royal breadth twenty spans, its height more than three hundred. And on four mighty Indian elephants they loaded all the robes and carpets.