Part 8

Vise, the commander of Turan's army, set out with a renowned host thirsty for revenge. Before he could reach Qaren, he found his dear son already killed and thrown down. Many of Turan's brave warriors and champions also lay strewn along the road with him. The banner was torn, the war drum overturned, faces pale like sandarac gum, shrouds red like tulips. Word reached Qaren about Vise, that he had come with victory and splendor. Qaren sent the Arabian horses toward Nimruz, and he himself, that lighter of the world, moved on. Grieving for his son, the warrior Vise turned toward Pars swift as the wind. When Qaren drew his forces onto the plain from Pars, an army appeared on his left flank. Through the dust a black banner emerged: the commander of the Turks at the head of his troops. Both sides drew up their ranks, and the eager warriors advanced. From the center of the army, Vise cried out: 'Your crown and throne of greatness are gone with the wind.' From Qanuj to the borders of Kabulistan, and as far as Bost and Zabulistan, all of it, from end to end, is in our grasp; the paintings and designs on the palaces are ours. Where will you find any resting place, now that your king has been taken captive? He answered: 'I am Qaren; I will throw the rug into the flowing water,' 'I did not come out of fear, nor for talk; I came seeking vengeance against your son.' 'Now that I have emptied my heart of revenge on him, I have prepared war and vengeance for you.' Black dust rose on left and right; neither the sky's face stayed bright nor the moon. The two armies clashed with one another, and blood poured out like a running river. Battle-hungry Qaren advanced on Vise, and Vise turned his face away from the fight. Many warriors were killed, and Vise grew bewildered in the fray. When misfortune came upon Vise from a shattering star, warlike Qaren did not pursue him. Vise went on to Afrasiab, his lashes brimming with tears from grief for his son.