The Killing of Nowzar and the Rescue of the Captives

News reached Gostaham and Tus that the royal glory had gone dark. With a sharp sword, amid weeping, they severed that crowned head, and everything changed. They tore their hair and clawed their faces; a great cry of grief rose up from Iran. The heads of the proud lords were covered in dust, every eye full of blood, every garment torn. They turned toward Zabolestan, their tongues praising the king, their souls seeking him. They came to Zal with mourning and pain, their cheeks smeared with blood, their heads with dust. Crying: 'What sorrow! Brave one, king, Nowzar, witness, wearer of the crown, great one, master!' Guardian of Iran and king of the world, chief of the crowned, the shield of the noble. Now the dust searches your head for its crown; the earth breathes in the blood of kings. Any grass that grows on that ground and soil bows its head in shame before the sun. We will demand justice and we will weep; we will mourn for a father's spilled blood. The mark of Fereydun lived on in him; the earth was a slave to the hooves of his horse. In misery and disgrace they cut his head from his body, before a gathering of the famed. Draw out your poison-tempered blades; come, seek revenge, and cut down the enemy. Surely the heavens mourn with us in this grief, and out of love rain blood from their eyes. You too, fill your eyes with blood; strip off every garment of ease and comfort. For when a king's blood cries for vengeance, no eye should be dry, no heart free of rage. The whole assembly wept in sorrow, as if roasting over a fierce fire. Zal swore that until the day of resurrection my sharp sword will never see its sheath. My prancing pale horse waits beneath my throne; the spear-tipped lance is my standing tree. The stirrup shall be my resting place, a dark helmet the only cap upon my head. In this vengeance there is no rest, no sleep; my two eyes are dry, without a stream of tears. May the soul of that great king of the world shine bright among the noble ones. By the justice of the Creator of the world, may your hearts find peace in faith and law. We were all born from our mothers to die; we accept it, and we have bared our necks to it. As the warriors hastened toward revenge, the captive lords in Sari heard the news. Their food, their rest, their sleep deserted them; they grew full of fear of Afrasiab. Then a message went to Aghrirath: 'O high-minded lord of good name, By your word we are still alive in this world; every one of us is your servant. You know that Zal is there in Zabolestan, alongside the king of Kabolestan, With warriors like Barzin and Qaren, like Khorrad and Keshvad, breakers of armies. They are champions with far-reaching arms; they will not hold their hands back from Iran's cause. When those warriors turn their reins this way and bring their spear-points into view, Afrasiab will grow furious at it; his heart will rush to deal with the captives. Then he will bring a whole flock of the innocent down into the dust, for the sake of a crown. If wise Aghrirath sees fit, let him free these captives from their chains. We will scatter across the world and raise our voices before the great, We will sing your praise before the nobles and offer our prayers before God as well.' The wise Aghrirath answered: 'When could such words ever be right? My enmity would come out in the open, and that devilish man's fury would boil over. I will devise a different plan for this, one that will not turn my brother against me in blood-feud. If Zal grows fierce of claw and brings an army against us to war, When he brings his host near Sari, I will hand all of you over to Zal. I will withdraw to Amol and not join the fight; I will bring shame upon my good name.' The nobles of Iran, at his words, bowed their faces to the ground. When they had finished blessing him, they sped a swift rider out of Sari. He raced to Zal, son of Sam, and carried the message from those famed men: 'The Lord of the world has had mercy on us; the wise Aghrirath has become our ally. We have laid down a firm and solemn pact and settled the whole matter upon it. That when Zal, the free-hearted man, comes from Iran seeking battle with him, The noble Aghrirath of good fortune will lead his troops from Amol toward Rey, So that from the claws of this dragon a whole world of people may come out alive and free.' When the swift rider reached Zabolestan, the messenger came before Zal. Zal summoned the nobles and the warriors and delivered the champions' message to them. Then he said: 'O commanders, war-leopards and men of renown, Who is the man of frontier-guarding heart, his heart hardened black by courage in battle, A buyer of this war and this charge, ready to lift his head to the sun?' Keshvad set his hand to that task; 'I am the one,' he said, and reached out for the mission. Blessed Zal praised him: 'May you be joyful as long as the moon and years endure.' An army of battle-seeking warriors set out from Zabol toward Amol. When the host marched out from Zal, word reached the well-meaning Aghrirath. He left all the captives in Sari, sounded the brass trumpet and led his army off. When blessed Keshvad reached Sari, the key to those chains appeared. He readied a horse for each of them and rode from Sari toward Zabolestan. When word reached Zal, son of Sam, that Keshvad had returned in glory, He gave a special treasure to the poor and gave his own robe to the messenger. When Keshvad drew near Zabol, Zal of the golden hair went out to greet him fittingly. He wept long over those wretched captives who had been left in the lion's claws. Then for the famous king Nowzar he poured dust on his head and wept bitterly. He brought them honored into the city and adorned the lofty palaces for them. He treated them just as they had been in Nowzar's day, when they had crown and throne and royal cap. Zal prepared every provision and comfort, and that army was left wanting for nothing.