Tale of Siyavash

Now, storyteller with your wakeful mind, weave together one graceful, elegant tale. When words come measured out with wisdom, they bring peace to the soul of the one who sings them. Whoever holds an unwholesome thought, his judgment goes rotten from that very sickness. He twists himself into a cross of shame, and disgraces himself before the wise. But no one sees his own faults; your own nature seems all bright and clear to you. If you want justice to endure and last, from now on refine your words and let them shine to the wise. When the wise approve, a thing becomes praiseworthy; let the stream flow through you clear as tears. Now read the story from the old sage's words, and tell it to those who love the truth. These tales, grown old through my telling, turn young again in every gathering. If my life stretches long enough, I will remain steady and glad in this faith. One orchard of mine will be left behind, whose fruit will keep raining down upon the meadow. After fifty-eight years had shown their face, many a wonder passed over my head. Greed does not shrink with the passing years; it still hunts for its day by calendar and omen. What did that leading priest once say? That what has grown old never turns young again. As long as you speak, be a true speaker of words; be wise, and be a seeker of the world's meaning. Once you are gone, the matter rests with God, whether your place turns out to be good or bad. Watch what you plant, for the same you will reap; whatever words you speak, the same you will hear. The gentle-spoken hears harshness from no one; seek nothing in this world but goodness. Now return to the old sage's tale; see what the poet who sings it has to say.

The priest told this tale: one day Tus, right at the hour when the rooster crowed, he and Giv, son of Gudarz, along with a few riders, set out happily from the king's court. They went hunting wild asses on the plain of Daghavi, with hawks and cheetahs trained for the chase. They caught and brought down plenty, enough to feed them for forty days. That place lay near the land of the Turks; its ground was dark with their scattered tents. In the distance a thicket came into view, close to the borderland of Tur's horsemen. Giv rode on ahead beside Tus, and behind them followed a few brave attendants. The two riders went into that thicket and circled around the meadow. In the thicket they found a lovely face, lips full of laughter; both hurried toward her. There was no one like her in all the world; nothing could be said against her beauty. Giv said to her: alluring moon, how did you find your way to this thicket? She answered: my father struck me last night, so I abandoned my home and land. He came home drunk in the dark night from the feasting plain, and when he saw me from afar, seething, he drew out a glinting dagger and meant to cut my head from my body. The warrior asked her about her lineage, and she recounted her family line one by one. She said: I am a kinswoman of Garsivaz; my roots go back to King Fereydun. He asked her: how did you come here on foot, with no horse and no guide? She answered: my horse gave out; from weakness it set me down on the ground. I had gold and jewels beyond counting, and a golden crown upon my head. On that hillside they took it all from me and struck me with the flat of a blade. When my father sobers up, no doubt he will send a rider galloping after me. My mother too will come racing along, unwilling to let me pass beyond this land. The warriors' hearts softened toward her, and the mind of Tus, son of Nozar, lost all restraint. Tus of Nozar's line said: I found her; that is why I hurried here so fast. Giv said to him: commander of the king's army, were you not riding level with me, without troops? And you, Tus of Nozar, held on to this claim: that she reached the front of my horse here. Giv said to him: do not say this yourself, that 'I galloped ahead in the hunt.' No noble man turns quarrelsome over a sweet-talking servant girl. Their words grew so heated that they decided this moon should lose her head. When their dispute dragged on and on, a proud man rose up as mediator between them. He said: take her to the king of Iran; whatever he decides, let you both obey. Neither of them defied his words; they turned their faces toward the king of Iran. When Kavus saw the girl's face, he smiled and bit his lip in wonder. The king said to the two commanders: your hard road has been cut short. Let us spend the day on this matter, while the champions fly their hunting hawks at the sun. Is she a deer, or a heart-stealing gazelle? Such a prize belongs to the greatest of lords. The king said to her: what is your lineage, that your face is like the face of a fairy? She said: on my mother's side I come from a noble lady, and on my father's side from Fereydun. My grandfather is the commander Garsivaz; his encampment stands on that borderland. He said to her: this face, this hair, this lineage, all three you were about to throw to the wind. I will place you fittingly in the golden harem; I will make you queen over the moon-faced women. She answered: I saw you, and out of all the proud lords I chose you. The king sent the idol-fair beauty to the harem and ordered that she be seated on a throne. They adorned her in yellow brocade, with ruby, turquoise, and lapis lazuli. And every other precious thing needed was there; she was like a flawless, untouched red ruby.

Not much time had passed in those days when color returned to the joyful spring. A child was born from her, lovely as a fairy, with a face like an idol carved by Azar. They told King Kavus: you have been blessed by a moon of fortunate step. A blessed child has come into the world; now you should raise your throne up to the clouds. The world filled with talk of that beauty, for no one had ever heard of such hair and face. The king of the world named him Siyavash, and cast his fate against the turning sky. One who could read the high heavens came to know his good and bad, his how and how much. He saw the stars troubled over this child, and grew sad to find the boy's fortune asleep. He saw the sorrow of good and ill in his path, and for the child's fate he took refuge in God. So time went on in this way, until the mighty Rostam came to the king. He said: this lion-like child must be raised and nurtured in my care. Since your attendants lack the skill, no nurse in all the world serves him like me. The king pondered long over this, yet it did not sit heavy on his heart. He entrusted his heart and his eyes to Rostam, that admirable, world-seeking hero. The mighty one took him to Zabolestan and made his home there among the rose gardens. Riding, arrow, bow and lasso, rein and stirrup, and the how and how much of things. How to hold court and pour the wine, falcon and hawk and the craft of the hunt. Of justice and injustice, throne and crown, speech and battle, and how to lead an army. He taught him every skill, one by one, took great pains, and brought him to full worth. Siyavash grew so accomplished that in the world no one among the great was his equal. When some time passed and he stood tall, he went out with his lasso for the lion's neck. He said to the proud Rostam: now I feel the need to see the king. You have taken great pains and burned your heart, teaching me the arts of kings. Now my father should see in me the skills the elephant-bodied hero has taught. The lion-hearted champion arranged his affairs and sent messengers rushing off in every direction. Horses and servants, silver and gold, signet and throne, crown and belt. Garments to wear and carpets to spread, he brought worthy gifts from every side. Whatever was not in Rostam's own treasury he sent for from across the world and swiftly gathered. He sent him off on his way with such splendor that the whole army came out to gaze at Siyavash. The mighty Rostam rode along with him, so that the young prince would not feel downcast. They decked out the whole world in celebration, wishing joy on the illustrious child. They blended gold with amber and poured it down from the rooftops. The world filled with joy and abundance; every doorway and roof in the quarter was adorned. They scattered coins beneath the hooves of Arabian horses; in all Iran not one soul was downcast. From end to end, every horse's mane was smeared with musk, wine, and saffron. When word reached King Kavus that Siyavash was coming in all his splendor, he ordered Giv and Tus to march out with the army, with brazen trumpets and kettledrums. All the famous warriors gathered, men like Gorgin and Khorrad, breakers of armies. They all set out together to welcome the blessed, noble Siyavash. When the heroes saw the king's brave son, a great cheer rose and they opened the way for him. Servants stood with censers and sweet perfume, gazing at him with hands folded in respect. Three hundred stood in every corner of the gate; in their midst was the free-spirited Siyavash. They showered down much gold and jewels, and all of them called down blessings on him. When he saw Kavus on the ivory throne, a crown of glittering rubies on his head, he first gave praise and bowed low, and for a moment whispered his secrets to the earth. Then he came forward to the king, and the commander took his head in his arms. Kavus stood amazed at the sight of him and kept repeating the name of God over him. So few in years, yet with such wisdom, you would say his very soul had been nursed on it. He called down many blessings on the Creator of the world and pressed his face to the ground. He said: O Maker of the heavens, Lord of consciousness and Lord of love, every good thing in the world comes from you; I begin my thanks with this son of mine. He asked after Rustam, welcomed him warmly, and seated him on the turquoise throne. All the nobles of Iran came joyfully before the king, bearing gifts. They were struck dumb by the glory of Siyavash and called down blessings on the Just One. He ordered the Iranians to line up before him, and the warriors of the army girded their belts. Toward his palace, his garden, his field, a whole world turned its face in joy. Everywhere they held a feast, calling for wine, music, and minstrels. He ordered a banquet such as no great man in the world had ever held before him. For a whole week they rejoiced this way; on the eighth day he threw open his treasuries. The king ordered a treasure-store of everything: seals and swords, thrones and crowns. Arabian horses with leopard-skin saddles, war-armor and quilted battle coats, gold coins and bags of silver, brocade and jewels of every size, everything but the crown, for its time had not come; a crown did not yet suit so young a child. He gave all this to Siyavash and made him promises, filling him with hope of a bright future. For seven years he tested the boy this way, and in every deed he proved nothing but pure and nobly born. In the eighth year he ordered a golden crown, and a jeweled cap and belt gleaming with gems. They wrote out a royal charter on fine silk, in the manner of the great and the splendor of kings. The king gave him the highland realm, for he was worthy of greatness and the throne. Before, they had also called it by another name; you may call it the land beyond the Oxus. Some more time passed like this, until it happened that Sudabeh, adorned and beautiful, suddenly caught sight of Siyavash's face; her thoughts stirred and her heart flared up. She became like a thread on the loom, or like ice set before a fire. She sent someone to him with a secret message: tell Siyavash this in private, that in the harem of the king of the world it would be no wonder if you appeared unannounced. The messenger went and delivered the message; the good-natured youth was outraged by it. He said: I am no man of the harem; don't tempt me, for I am not one for cunning and trickery. The next day at dawn Sudabeh went, hurrying gracefully before the king of Iran. She said to him: O commander of armies, the sun and moon have never seen your equal. There is no one on earth like your son; may the world rejoice in your lineage. Send him to my quarters, to his sisters and the women of your house. Out of love, all the veiled women have hearts full of longing and faces wet with tears for him. They would bow before him and bring him gifts, and make the tree of devotion bear fruit. The king said: this is fitting talk; a hundred mothers' love is upon you toward him. The king summoned Siyavash and said: blood and kinship and love cannot be hidden. Behind my curtain you have a sister, and in Sudabeh a loving mother. God created you so pure that everyone who sees you comes to love you. Especially one bound to you by blood: how must it be when she sees you even from afar? So go visit the veiled women; stay a while and let them bless you. When Siyavash heard the king's words, he stared at him in astonishment. For a moment he pondered in his heart, striving to wash his heart clean of doubt. He suspected that his father was testing him, probing to see what was on his mind, for the boy was learned and eloquent, alert, clear sighted, and quick to sense a trap. He turned the matter over and kept it secret within himself, thinking of the end before the beginning. 'If I set foot in his private quarters, I will only draw endless gossip from Sudabeh.' So Siyavash answered: 'My king has given me command, a throne, and a crown. From the place where the high sun rises to bless the earth and make it precious, no king has worn the crown as you have, in goodness, wisdom, custom, and right conduct. So set me among the wise priests, the sages, the great men, and seasoned counselors. Teach me the spear, the mace, the arrow, and the bow, so I can hold my ground against the enemy's ranks. Teach me the ways of kings and how to hold court, and the customs of feast and battle, of wine and cupbearer. What could I learn in the king's private quarters? What guidance in knowledge would women give me there? But if this is truly the king's command, and going before her is his rule for me,' the king said to him: 'My son, be glad, and let your foundation always be wisdom. I have rarely heard words as fine as these; hearing them enriches the mind. Hold no dark thoughts in your heart. Prepare only for joy and cut away sorrow. Go and see the young ones behind the curtains, so they may find a little happiness. Behind that curtain is your sister, full of love, and Sudabeh is like a mother to you.' Siyavash answered: 'In the morning I will come and do everything he has spoken of.' There was a man named Hirbad, his heart and mind and judgment scrubbed clean of any evil, who never left the temple untended and held the key to the door of the inner chambers. The lord of Iran said to that wise man: 'When the sun draws its sword from hiding, go before Siyavash and stay watchful; listen closely to whatever he asks.' He ordered Sudabeh to bring before the boy an offering of jewels, musk, and perfume. The attendants and the sisters, too, were to scatter emeralds over saffron. When the sun lifted its head above the mountains, Siyavash came before the king. He blessed him and bowed low, and the king spoke with him in confidence. When they were alone, he summoned Hirbad and gave him fitting instructions. He told him: 'Go with Siyavash and gladden his heart with a new sight.' The two of them set off together, their spirits happy and their hearts empty of grief. When Hirbad drew the curtain from the doorway, Siyavash stood there, fearing some harm. The whole harem came out to greet him, full of joy and ready for celebration. From end to end there were only cups, brimming with musk and gold coins and saffron. They scattered silver coins beneath his feet, mixing in agate and green gemstones. The ground lay covered with Chinese silk, and lustrous pearls were spread across it. Wine, the sound of strings, and singers' voices, and every head crowned with a heavy coronet. The harem was decked out like paradise, filled with beautiful faces and lavish riches. When Siyavash reached the palace hall, he saw a golden throne shining bright, adorned with turquoise inlay, dressed in royal silk fit for a king. On that throne sat Sudabeh, moon-faced, like a paradise full of color and scent. She sat radiant as the bright star Suhail over Yemen, the curls of her hair falling in ripple after ripple. A tall crown was set upon her head, and her dark, musk-scented tresses hung down to her feet. A servant stood holding golden slippers, waiting on her feet with lowered head. When Siyavash stepped past the curtain, Sudabeh rose swiftly from her throne, came gracefully forward, bowed to him, and held him in her arms for a long while. She kissed his eyes and face for a long time, never satisfied with gazing at the prince. A hundred times she said, 'Thanks be to God; I will pray day and night at every watch, for no one has a child like you, and even the king has no equal to match him.' Siyavash understood what this affection meant, that such love did not come from a righteous path. He quickly moved toward his sisters, for that place was no fit place for him. His sisters blessed him and seated him on a golden chair. He stayed a good while with his sisters, then came gracefully back toward the throne. The whole harem filled with talk: here is a true crown-prince, a seeker of wisdom. You would say he seemed hardly human; his soul scattered pure wisdom all around. Siyavash went before his father and said, 'I have seen the hidden inner chambers. All the good of this world is your portion; you have no cause to complain to God. You surpass Jamshid, Fereydun, and King Hushang in treasure, in the sword, and in the throne.' The king rejoiced at his words and adorned his hall like joyful spring. They set out wine, the lute, and the flute, and freed their hearts from thoughts of what might come. When night appeared and the day grew dark, the renowned king went into the harem. The king spoke, questioning Sudabeh: 'You must not hide this secret from me.' Tell me of Siyavash, his learning and his mind, of his height, his face, and how he speaks. You favor him, and he is wise indeed; yet seeing is even better than hearing about him. Sudabeh said: no king's throne has ever seen the sun and moon shine as they do in him. Who in all the world compares to your son? Why must such talk be kept a secret? The king replied: when he grows into full manhood, no evil eye must fall upon him. Sudabeh said: if my proposal wins your favor and matches your wishes, I will give him a wife from my own line, not from some outsider off the street. She would bear him children in this world, worthy of his face and standing among the great. I have daughters who resemble you, sprung from your seed and your pure bond. If he chooses from the line of Kay Arash or Kay Pashin, he would gladly bless the match with joy. The king said: this is exactly what I desire; my greatest glory lies in such an outcome. At dawn Siyavash came before the king, offering his blessings on the crown and throne. Father began to share his secret with his son, keeping it hidden from all strangers. He said: from the Maker of the world I hold one wish hidden in my heart, that my name may live on through you, that from your seed a king may rise. Just as you have made me fresh with joy, so may you open your heart to seeing his face. I read the sign of your star this way, from what the astrologer priests foretold: that from your line a king shall come who will be remembered throughout the world. So now choose one among the noble houses; look to the family of Kay Pashin. In the house of Kay Arash there are also women; look on every side and reach out your hand. Siyavash said: I am the king's servant, my head bowed to his command and his will. Whomever he chooses for me is right; the ruler of the world is master over his servants. But Sudabeh must not hear of this, or she will twist it and not believe it. This talk should not go to Sudabeh; I have no business inside her women's quarters. The king laughed at what Siyavash said, unaware of the water hidden beneath the straw. He said: it is Sudabeh who should choose your wife; do not worry about her or her gathering. Her words come from affection; she stands guard over your very life. Siyavash was glad at his father's words; inwardly his mind was freed of worry. He began to praise the king of the world, bowing low in reverence before his throne. Yet secretly, over the scheming Sudabeh, he stayed twisting with unease, his heart wounded. He knew that these words too came from her, and his skin nearly split with rage upon his body.

This story too passed with the night, and the sky wheeled dark above the mountain. Joyful, Sudabeh took her seat upon the throne, and set a crown of ruby and gold on her head. She called all the young women to her, adorned them, and settled them on a golden throne. The moon-faced woman said to the priest: go from here and tell Siyavash, that he should take the trouble to come and show me his tall, cypress form. The priest went and spoke to Siyavash, drawing the hidden secret out into the open. Siyavash came to her with a graceful step; he saw her seat, her head, and her crown. Before her stood idol-fair maidens; you would have said the palace and halls were paradise itself. She came down from the throne and went to him, her face and hair decked with jewels. Siyavash sat upon the golden throne, while before him Sudabeh stood with folded arms. She showed the prince the elegant beauties, who were like gems never yet touched. She said to him: look upon this throne and court, so many servants in golden crowns. All of them unmarried, lovely idols whom God fashioned out of modesty and grace. Tell me any one of them who pleases you; look well at her face and her stature. Siyavash barely let his eyes drift over them, and not one of them could take her eyes off him. They all said to one another: the moon herself dare not gaze upon this king. Each went off to her own place, murmuring and counting up her own fortune. When they had gone, Sudabeh said: why do you keep so many words hidden away? Won't you tell me what your desire is? There is the glory of a fairy in your face. Anyone who sees you even from afar loses her senses and chooses you. Look with the eye of wisdom among these beauties; see which one is fit for you. Siyavash stood silent and gave no answer; this thought came to his pure heart: that I would weep in my innocent heart before it is better to take a wife from among enemies. I have heard from the famous nobles all the tales of Hamavaran, of what he once did against the king of Iran, how he raised the dust of Iran's heroes. Sudabeh, who is his daughter, is full of treachery; she wishes this dynasty neither flesh nor skin. As Siyavash opened his lips to answer, the fairy-faced woman lifted the fine veil from her cheek. She said to him: if the sun and the new moon are seen together upon a fresh throne, it is no wonder if the moon grows dim, for you yourself hold the sun in your arms. One who has seen someone like me upon an ivory throne, with a crown of ruby and turquoise on her head. No wonder if he ignores the moon; he counts no one anyone's equal in beauty. If you make a pact with me now, don't turn away and set your mind at ease. I'll set a young, unripe girl in my place to serve and wait on you. Swear an oath and seal our bond now; don't twist away in the least from my words. When the king departs this world, you will remain as my keepsake of him. You won't let any harm come to me; you'll hold me as dear as he does. Look, I stand here before you; I have given you my body and my sweet life. Whatever you want from me, I'll fulfill your every desire; I won't slip from your snare. She pressed his head close and tore open a fold of her dress, feeling no shame or fear. Siyavash's cheeks flushed like roses with shame; his lashes grew wet with hot tears of blood. He said within his heart: may the Lord of the world keep me far from the devil's work. I will neither betray my father nor make friends with the demon. Yet if I speak coldly to this brazen woman, her heart will boil and burn with rage. In secret she'll work some spell, and the king of the world will believe her. Better that I speak to her in a gentle voice and keep her sweet and warm. Then Siyavash said to Sudabeh: who in the world could be a match for you? You are like nothing but the full moon; no one on earth is fit for you but the king. Now your daughter is enough for me; no one but her should be mine. Stay with this, and tell the king of Iran; see what answer you get from him. I will ask for her and make a vow; I'll leave my word with you as a pledge, That until she stands beside me as my equal, my thoughts will turn to no one else. And as for your asking about my face: my love has already mingled with your soul. The Creator, out of His own glory, fashioned me thus long ago, O lovely one. Don't reveal this secret; tell no one. For me there is no way but concealment. You are the head of the ladies and the noblest; I think of you as a mother. He said this and went out the door heartsick; her words had left his head reeling. When Kavus the king came to the harem, Sudabeh looked and saw him. She went to the king with glad news, speaking much about Siyavash's visit. She said: he came and looked over the whole hall; I had gathered the dark-eyed beauties in a flock. The hall held so many lovely faces you would say the moon was raining down love. No one but my daughter pleased him; among all the beauties, none was worthy in his eyes. The king grew as joyful at those words as if the moon had come to rest at his side. He opened his treasury: so many jewels, gold-woven silks, and belts of gold, along with bracelets, a crown, and rings, a torque and a throne fit for a champion, a treasure adorned with every kind of thing, a whole world packed full of riches. Sudabeh stared, dumbfounded, and in her scheming muttered many a spell. If he will not bow to my command, she thought, then let my very life be torn from me. Every good and evil, every trick in the world, whether done openly or in secret, I will use if he turns his face from me; I will raise a cry against him before the whole court. She sat upon the throne with earrings gleaming, and placed a jeweled crown upon her head. She called Siyavash close beside her and spoke to him of every sort of thing. She said: the king has laid out a treasure such as no one has ever seen, crown and throne alike. So much of everything, beyond all measure, that to load it you would need two hundred elephants. He means to give you my daughter; look at my face, my head, my crown. What excuse do you have to refuse my love, to turn away from my figure and my face? For since I first saw you, you have stolen me; I am crying out, burning, wounded. From this pain I no longer see the bright day; it seems to me the sun itself has turned dark blue. For seven years now my love for you has made my face weep blood. Bring me joy just once, in secret; have pity on the days of my youth. More than what the king of the world has given you, I will crown you with bracelets, crown, and throne. But if you turn your head from my command, if your heart will not come toward my pledge, I will ruin your kingship; the king's eyes will grow dark against your face. Siyavash said: never let it happen that for the sake of desire I throw my honor to the wind, that I betray my father, that I part myself from manliness and wisdom. You are the king's lady and the sun of his court; it does not befit such a sin to come from you. He rose from the throne in anger, ready to fight, but Sudabeh clutched at him with her claws. She said: I told you the secret of my heart, hidden from those who wish you ill. Do you mean to shame me for nothing, to make me look shameless before the wise? She struck herself, tore her clothes to shreds, and clawed both her cheeks with her nails. A cry rose from her chamber; her wailing carried from the palace out into the street. A great uproar rose from the garden and the hall, as if it were truly the night of resurrection. News reached the king's ears, and he came down from the imperial throne. Full of worry, he left the golden throne and hurried toward the women's quarters. When he arrived, he saw Sudabeh with her face scratched and the palace loud with talk. He questioned everyone and grew sick at heart; he did not know what that hard-hearted woman had done. Sudabeh wailed before him, weeping and tearing out her hair. She said: Siyavash came to the throne, reached out his hands and seized me hard. He said, I want no one but you, of all people; this is the only thing I have to say. My heart and soul are full of love for you; why do you keep away from me, my lovely one? He knocked the crown from my dark-scented head, and tore my clothing like this on my body. The king fell into thought at these words, and sought out every kind of explanation. He said to himself: if she is telling the truth, and is not inventing such a shameful thing, then Siyavash's head must be cut off; this would be the key to locking away the evil. But what would a wise man say now? My sense of shame has turned to blood over this tale. Those who were in the women's quarters, prudent people and loyal to their lord, he dismissed, and remained alone on the throne, then called Siyavash and Sudabeh before him. With wisdom and reason he said to Siyavash: this secret cannot be hidden from me. You did not do this wrong that I have done; I am wounded by these worthless words. Why did I summon you to the women's quarters? Now the sorrow is mine and the plotting is yours to answer for. Now seek the truth and tell me; show me plainly how the matter stands. Siyavash told what had happened, and about the door where Sudabeh had lost her composure. Sudabeh said: this is not true; he wanted nothing of my beauties but my body. I told him everything that the king of the world had given me, both openly and in secret, of children, of the crown, of possessions, of gold and of adorned treasure. I said I would set aside this much for you, and give all these fine things to my daughter. He told me: I have no use for possessions, and no wish to look at your daughter. It is you I must speak of, no one else; without you I have no need of treasure or of anyone. He tried to pull me into his embrace; he clung with both hands, gripping like stone. When I would not obey him, he tore out my hair and my face was scratched. I carry a hidden child, from your own line, O king of the world. The pain was so close to killing me that the whole world seemed narrow and dark before my eyes. The king said to himself that the words of neither of them could be trusted. There is no room for haste in this matter, for a troubled heart lulls reason to sleep. First I must look carefully into this door; the heart will bear true witness once things are set right. Let me see which of these two is guilty, and which one deserves the punishment for the wrong. To investigate, he sought a way, and first he smelled Siyavash's hand. His chest, his arms, his head, his tall body, he smelled every part of him from head to foot. From Sudabeh, Kavus caught the scent of wine and pure musk, and the smell of rose water. On Siyavash he found no such scent; there was no sign that anyone had touched him. He grew grieved, held Sudabeh in contempt, and filled his own heart with pain. In his heart he said: this woman must now be cut to pieces with a sharp sword. Then he considered Hamavaran, that an uproar might rise, full of clamor and grief. And another thing: in the days when he was in bondage, he had no kin or ally beside him. Sudabeh served him day and night, who suffered through that hardship without complaint. A third reason: she held a heart full of love for him, so he had to overlook every wrong of hers. A fourth: she had borne him little children by him, and the grief of small ones is not to be taken lightly. Siyavash was innocent of that vile deed, and the king recognized his wisdom. He said to him: do not trouble yourself over this at all; keep to prudence, sound judgment, and knowledge. Never mention this, and tell no one, so the story does not take on color and rumor. When Sudabeh knew she had fallen from favor, and had grown cold in the king's heart, she sought a scheme in that ugly matter, and out of spite planted a fresh tree of malice. There was a woman entrusted to her service, full of sorcery, tricks, and spells. She was heavy, carrying a child in her womb, enduring her burden with difficulty. Sudabeh opened her secret to her and sought her help: first of all I want your pledge. When she took the pledge she gave her many gifts, saying: never speak a word of this matter. Prepare a drug so that you miscarry this child, be emptied, and never break my secret. Perhaps all this scheming and so many lies will find their proof through these babes of yours. I will tell Kavus these are my own children, slain like this at the hand of the devil. So that this crime may be fastened on Siyavash; now you must find a way for this. If you will not listen, my standing before the king will darken, and I will be cast far from the throne. The woman said to her, 'I am your servant; I bow my head to your command and will.' When the dark night came, the woman drank a drug so that a demon's offspring dropped from her. If a demon's child could look like that, imagine what a child of witch-blood would look like. She hid the woman away and lay down herself, and from the secret chamber her cries rose up. All the attendants who were in the hall hurried at once to Sudabeh's side. She had a golden basin brought before her and told her secret plan to her handmaid. She placed the demon's spawn in the basin, wailed, and threw herself down on the bedding. Two infants lay dead in the basin, and from the hall her lament reached the heavens. When Kavus heard the outcry from the hall, he trembled in his sleep and opened his ears. He asked, and they told the king what had happened to that moon-faced woman. That whole night he found no rest; at dawn he rose and came in grief. He saw Sudabeh lying in such a state, and the whole harem thrown into turmoil. The two infants cast down like that in the golden basin, tossed aside in misery, their hearts wounded. Sudabeh poured tears from her eyes and said to him, 'Look plainly, as clear as the sun.' She kept saying, 'See what evil he has done; you were fooled into trusting his words.' King Kavus's heart filled with suspicion; he left and sank into thought for a while. He kept asking, 'What remedy can I find for this? I cannot take it lightly to my heart.' After that, King Kavus sought out those who could read the stars. He searched for them, summoned them to himself, questioned them, and seated them on a golden throne. He spoke at length with the nobles about Sudabeh and the war of Hamavaran. So that they might become aware of her doings and through their knowledge understand her deeds. He said much about those infants too, but kept the matter hidden and concealed. They took up all their astrolabes and star tables and spent a whole week on the task. At last they said, 'When would this ever happen? These are like poison cast into a cup of wine.' 'These two children come from another's line, not from the king's blood, nor from this mother.' 'Had they been of royal seed, it would have been easy to find it in these star tables.' 'Their secret is not written in this sky, nor is this marvel found upon the earth.' They told the king in the assembly the signs of the malicious, impure woman. Kavus kept it hidden and told no one; he held it concealed and secret. Another week passed on this matter, and through sorcery the world's measure was filled to the brim. Sudabeh wailed and demanded justice, crying out to the king who rules the world. She said, 'I would accept it from the king, to be beaten and cast down from throne and rank, yet my heart twists over a slain child; every moment I could tear my head from my body.' He said to her, 'Woman, be calm. Why do you speak these unbearable words?' He ordered all the guards of the royal court to set out on the road. They were to search every city and lane, and bring in the wicked woman. They found her trace nearby, and the seasoned searchers hurried on. They dragged the doomed woman off the road and brought her, humiliated, before the king. He questioned her gently and gave her hope, promising her many days of grace. But after that, through humiliation, blows, and chains, the lofty king was done with her. She confessed nothing to that charge, and the noble king would not agree with the tale. He ordered her taken from his presence, to try every trick and cast their spells. 'If she will not confess, then cut her in two; this, I know, is the way of majesty.' They led the woman from the king's court, speaking of the sword, the gallows, and the pit. The sorceress said, 'I am innocent. What should I say before this famous court?' They told the king what the woman had said: 'The Creator of the world knows the hidden truth.' He ordered Sudabeh forward, and the astrologer spoke his own account: that both these children came from a sorceress; it was clear they were of demon stock. Sudabeh answered back like this: 'With them the secret is something other than this.' 'They know far more than they say, but for Siavash's sake they dare not speak. For fear of the elephant-bodied warrior chief, even the lion trembles in a crowd, who has the strength of eighty elephants and can dam the flow of the Nile at will.' 'A hundred thousand of the famous army would flee from him on the battlefield. How then could I stand against him? My eyes are forever filled with blood.' 'What can the astrologer say except what he is ordered, and to whom does he owe his gratitude?' 'If you feel no grief for your young child, my bond to them is no less than yours.' 'If you take this matter so lightly, then I lay this dispute before the other world.' She poured more water from her eyes than the sun draws up from the river Nile. The king grew gloomy at her words and wept bitterly along with her. He sent the heartsick Sudabeh away, and she set her mind fixedly on that scheme. He said: let us look into this matter in secret, and see what comes of it in the end. He summoned all the wise priests to his side and spoke to them at length about Sudabeh. The chief priest said to the king of the world: the commander's pain will not stay hidden. If you want to bring the truth to light, you must strike stone against the jug. For however dear a son may be, the king's heart is wounded by this doubt. And from this daughter of the king of Hamavaran, on the other side, worry has filled you too. Since the matter has come to this from every angle, one of them must pass through the fire. Such is the oath of the high heavens: no harm ever falls upon the innocent. The king summoned Sudabeh before him and sat down to speak with Siyavash. At last he said: I cannot feel safe about either of you; my heart and my clear soul find no peace. Unless the blazing fire reveals the truth and quickly shames the one who has sinned. Sudabeh answered him in turn: I speak the truth in what I say. I showed the king two stillborn children; no one can see a greater crime than this. It must be proven against Siyavash that he did this wrong and sought this ruin. The king of the land said to his young son: what does your judgment see in this now? Siyavash said: my king, even hell would be a small thing to me beside this accusation. If it were a mountain of fire, I would walk across it; passing through this trial is easier than my shame. The soul of King Kavus was torn with worry, over his son and over faithful Sudabeh. For if one of these two proves guilty, then, after everyone has called me king, since son and wife are my very blood and mind, how can any good outcome come of it for me? Better that I wash my heart clean of this ugly business and find a remedy, however heartbreaking. As that good commander once said with true words: do not rule as a king with a fearful heart. He ordered the minister to have the camel-drivers bring a hundred caravans of camels from the plain. The camels went to haul the firewood, and all the people of Iran came out to watch. With a hundred caravans of red-haired camels, the warlike king had firewood brought. They piled up two mountains of firewood; the count of it passed all reckoning of how and how much. Whoever saw it from a distance of two leagues thought it a key that would unlock disaster. He wanted to see the truth clearly, for from a woman's scheming only ruin comes. When you have heard this whole tale from start to end, it will be better for you if you believe it. They set two mountains of firewood upon the plain, and a whole world gathered to look on. The passage was so wide that a rider crossing it would feel it narrow to a mere four spans. In those days the great king's oath was tested this way; such was the custom, and this was the path. Then the king ordered the priest to pour black naphtha over the piled wood. Two hundred fire-kindlers came and blew on it, until you would say night had turned to day. At the first breath the sky went black with smoke, and soon the flames leaped up from the smoke. The earth grew brighter than the sky, a whole world roaring and the fire breathing. Across the plain everyone burned with grief; they wept at the sight of his smiling face. Siyavash came before his father, a golden helmet set upon his head. Calm and clear-headed, dressed in white, his lips full of laughter, his heart full of hope. He rode a black Arabian horse; the dust from its hooves rose to the moon. He had scattered camphor over himself, just as it is done to prepare a shroud. When he came again before Kavus, he dismounted and bowed low to him. He saw King Kavus's face full of shame, and heard him speak gently to his son. Siyavash said to him, 'Do not grieve, for this is how the turning of time goes.' 'My head is full of shame and honor; if I am innocent, I will be spared.' 'But if I am guilty in this matter, the Creator of the world will not protect me.' 'By the power of God, the giver of good, I will feel no torment from this mountain of fire.' A cry rose up from the plain and the city; that ordeal brought grief to all the world. When Sudabeh heard the noise from the plain, she went up to the balcony and saw the fire. She wished harm would come to him, and stood there seething, full of muttered words. The whole world had its eyes fixed on Kavus, tongues full of curses, hearts full of rage. Siyavash spurred his mount fiercely forward; without a heavy heart, he readied to face the fire. The flames rose up from every side, and no one could see Siyavash or his horse. The whole plain watched with eyes full of blood, waiting to see when he would emerge from the fire. When they saw him, a shout went up: 'The young prince has come out of the fire!' Had it been water, he would have come out wet, his clothes drenched and clinging. But the horse and the rider's robe came out so fresh, you would think he had held jasmine in his arms. When the pure grace of God is upon a man, the breath of fire and the touch of water are the same. When he passed from the mountain of fire onto the plain, a great cry rose from the city and the field. The riders of the army set out toward him, and across the plain they showered coins before him. A strange joy spread through the world, among both the humble and the great. People carried the good news to one another: that the just God had shown mercy to the innocent one. In her rage, Sudabeh tore at her hair, shed tears, and scratched her face. When pure Siyavash came before his father, there was no smoke, no fire, no dust, no ash on him. King Kavus dismounted from his horse; the commander went on foot, and the army on foot as well. He clasped Siyavash tightly to his chest and began to beg forgiveness for the wrong he had done. Siyavash came before the pure Lord of the world and pressed his face to the ground. He gave thanks that he had escaped the blaze of that mountain of fire, and that all the wishes of his enemies had been brought low. The king said to him: brave young man, you are of pure seed and radiant soul. You are the kind born of a virtuous mother, the kind who becomes a ruler in the world. He walked into the palace and sat down gladly, placing the royal crown upon his head. He called for wine and the musicians, and had all his heart's desires fulfilled alongside Siyavash. For three days he drank wine at that feast; there was no lock or bar upon the treasury door. On the fourth day he sat upon the royal throne, an ox headed mace in his hand. He grew furious and summoned Sudabeh, and let his words pour out against her. You have committed much shamelessness and evil; you have wounded my heart again and again. In the end you devised a wicked plot, aimed at the very life of my son. You devoured him with your schemes and threw him into the fire; in this way you wove your sorcery. Now no apology will do you any good. Empty your quarters and set your affairs in order. It is not fitting that you remain upon this earth; nothing but the gallows is the reward for this. Sudabeh said to him: my king, then rain that fire down upon my head instead. If my head must be cut off, let it be the punishment for this wrong that has befallen me. Give the order, and I have set my heart on it: the fierce fire never bore any hatred toward him. Siyavash speaks the truth, and washes the king's heart clean of its grief. All of this was the sorcery of Zal at work; I do not want you to keep hatred for me in your heart. He said to her: you still have your tricks; your back of insolence will never bend. The king of the world said to the Iranians: about this evil she secretly contrived, What should I do? What should her punishment be? They all called down blessings upon the king, saying: her reward is that she be put to death, and left writhing for the evil she has done. He ordered the executioner: take her to the street, hang her from the gallows, and turn your face away. When they turned Sudabeh's face away for punishment, the whole harem cried out. King Kavus's heart filled with pain; he hid it, but his cheeks went pale. Siyavash spoke to the king: do not torment your heart over this matter. Grant Sudabeh's offense to me; perhaps she will take counsel and mend her ways. He said to himself: if by the king's hand Sudabeh is destroyed, in the end he will regret it, and when he writhes with grief he will blame me. So he sought a pretext from the king's decision, that the past offense might be forgiven. He told Siyavash: I have pardoned her, though I had already resolved to spill her blood. Siyavash kissed his father's throne, then rose from it and went out the door. The whole harem ran to Sudabeh again and bowed before her. In this way a while passed, and the king's heart grew warmer toward her. His heart returned so fully to loving her that he could not take his eyes from her face. Once again, in secret, she worked her sorcery upon the king of the world, so as to turn him against Siyavash, in the way her true nature demanded. Her words made the king suspicious, yet he revealed nothing to any of the nobles. Where a matter like this arises, one needs wisdom, knowledge, faith, and justice. As one who fears God and acts rightly, the capable man reaches his heart's desire. Where fate has packed the cup with poison, do not foolishly demand sweet honey from it. You are no match for creation; do not rage if you are not the one who nurtures it. Such is the way of the turning sky; it will not show you a smiling face. A guide once drew this lesson from the tale: no love is greater than the love of one's own blood. When a worthy child appears, one must cut his heart free from the love of women.

The king of the world was at ease and content when he heard the report of his scouts: that Afrasiyab had come with a hundred thousand chosen, seasoned Turkish riders, and had set his face toward the land of Iran, and the whole country was buzzing with talk of it. King Kavus grew heavy at heart, and his mind turned from feasting to war. He gathered a council of Iranians, all who wished the royal house well. He said to them: Afrasiyab, made though he is of wind and fire, earth and water, surely God never shaped him like other men; the heavens must have sown him some other way. For all his lavish oaths and pledges, and however sweetly he stakes his word, once he gathers his vengeful army he turns his back on every promise and vow. No one but me is fit to take vengeance on him; I will turn his bright day into black night. I will wipe his name from the world, or else, like an arrow suddenly loosed from a bow, he will raise an army, make war on Iran, and lay much of this land in ruins. A wise elder said to him: What need is there for the king himself to go to the battlefield? Why should you throw your wealth to the wind, and why open the treasury for such a thing? Twice already you handed this famous throne of yours to your enemy through rashness. Now choose a champion instead, one worthy of the battle and worthy of this vengeance. He answered them: In all this assembly I see no one who has the strength and endurance to face Afrasiyab; I must go myself, like a ship upon the water. Return now, and give me time to turn this matter over in my heart. Siyavash grew troubled at heart over this, his mind crowded thick with thoughts like a forest. He said to himself: I will take on this war; I will ask the king kindly and win his leave. Perhaps the just God will free me from Sudabeh and my father's endless talk. And besides, if I win renown from this task, I will lure that whole army into my trap. So he came, belt girded, before King Kavus and said: I am the one for this rank. Let me be the one to challenge the king of Turan and bring the heads of their lords low in the dust. But such was the will of the Creator of the world, that he would give up his life in the land of Turan, through evil counsel and wicked scheming, wherever fate turns cruel. His father agreed to the plan, that Siyavash should gird himself for this vengeance. He was glad of him and made much of him, and set him up in a fresh, high position. He told him: The treasury and its jewels are yours; consider the whole army your own to command. By the words, the deeds, and the praise that they sing for you across the land of Iran, he called the mighty warrior Rostam to his side and told him many fine and fitting tales. He said to him: no elephant matches your strength; no Nile can equal the dust your horse Rakhsh kicks up. In all the world you are the master of skill and calm, for you are the one who raised Siyavash. As iron locks a jewel deep in the mine, so when you fasten your belt for war, all doors open. Siyavash came to me with his belt bound tight, and spoke like a raging lion. He longs to fight Afrasiyab; go with him, and do not turn your face from him. When you are watchful, I can sleep; when you rest, unease comes rushing to me. The world is safe under your arrow and sword; the moon and the turning sky bow beneath you. The mighty Rostam said: I am your servant; whatever you command, I am listening. Siyavash is my shelter and my very soul; the crown on his head is my whole sky. When the king heard this, he blessed him and said: may wisdom be the companion of your pure soul. After that, the sound of pipes and war drums rose, and the commander Tus came forward. The army gathered at the palace gate, and the king threw open his treasury of gold. Of swords and maces, of helmets and belts, of armor, spears, and shields as well, and to the treasury full of uncut cloth he sent Siyavash the key, saying: you are the master of my life and my wealth; make ready as you see fit. From those famed riders he chose twelve thousand bold warriors. From Pahlav and Pars, from Kuch and Baluch, from fighting Gilan and the plains of Saruch, and twelve thousand shield-bearing footmen the king chose, fit for battle. From Iran, every man of noble birth, brave, wise, and free-spirited, were of Siyavash's height and age, wise, alert, and quiet in speech. Among the fighting heroes of renown were men like Bahram and Zangeh of Shavaran. And five priests of Iran raised high the banner of Kaveh. He ordered them all to set out; they moved from Pahlav toward the plain and open field. You would say there was no room left on earth, no patch of ground untouched by a horseshoe's tread. The banner of Kaveh rose into the sky like a shining moon among them. King Kavus rode out from Pahlav and swiftly circled the army. The noble king blessed them and said: O renowned ones of fortunate step, may nothing but good fortune walk beside you, and may your enemies' eyes go dark with despair. To set out under a lucky star and in good health, and to come back victorious and glad. From there he strapped the war drums onto the elephant, gave the order to his warriors, and mounted himself. With eyes brimming with tears, King Kavus rode along the road with him for a day. At last the two of them embraced each other like spring clouds gathering close. They shed tears of blood from their eyes and let out a wail of grief. As they parted, the heart bore witness that after this they would never meet again. Such is the way of the turning world: sometimes it yields honey, sometimes poison. Kavus turned back toward his throne, while Siyavash went on with his war-seeking army. He led his troops toward Zabulistan, marching with the mighty Rostam toward Zal. For a while he stayed with music and wine, near the blessed and fortunate Zal. Sometimes he held his cup with the mighty Rostam, sometimes he chose to sit with Zavareh. Sometimes he sat happily on Zal's throne, sometimes he was out hunting or in the private chambers. When a month had passed, the army set off; the mighty Rostam went along, but Zal stayed behind. An army marched with the champion, from Zabul, from Kabul, and from the Indians. From every side where there was a renowned force, he summoned them and came to the city of Herat. He brought many foot soldiers from them, and handed the baggage train over to Zangeh, son of Shavaran. He came to Taleqan and Marv-rud; you might say the heavens themselves were greeting him. After that he reached the outskirts of Balkh, and troubled no one with a harsh word. From the other side, Garsivaz and Barman led their army forward like a roaring wind. Sepahram and Barman were the vanguard; word came to them of the new commander, that an army and a young king had come from Iran, with the mighty champion Rostam as its general. They rushed a fast camel-rider to Afrasiyab, swift as a ship gliding over water, saying: A great army has come from Iran, led by Siyavash and his chieftains, with an army led by Rostam, the mighty champion, a dagger in one hand and his shroud in the other. Bring your army and do not delay so long, for the wind of it will move the ship from its place. He drove the camel-rider forward like fire; this was the message he sent through the guide. Siyavash on his side did not wait for a reply; he raced his army toward Balkh like the wind. When the army from Iran pressed in close, there was no chance to wait for any answer. The war-seeking Garsivaz looked around and saw no way open but to fight. When the army from Iran closed in hard, battle broke out at the gate of Balkh. Two hard battles were fought over three days, then Siyavash came, lighting up the army. He posted foot soldiers at every gate, and a great army marched into Balkh. Sepahram fled to the far side of the river, joining his troops with Afrasiab. Siyavash entered Balkh with his army and ordered a letter written to the king. It was written on silk with musk, rosewater, and perfume, as befitted its worth. First he gave praise to the Creator, through whom he had grown victorious in his time. Lord of the sun and the turning moon, the one who raises up crown, throne, and diadem. He lifts one man high, and casts another into grief and misery. Why should we not obey His command? And how? Wisdom itself must guide us to this. From that Just One who created the world, who made both the seen and the hidden. May blessing be upon the king, and may the outcome of all things be good. I came to Balkh joyful, with fortune on my side, by the glory of the ruler of crown and throne. Three days passed in this fighting, and on the fourth the Creator showed His mercy. Sepahram fled to Termez, and Barman shot away like an arrow from the bow. Now, all the way to the Oxus, the army is mine, and the world lies under the glory of my crown. Afrasiab is in Sughd with his army; both troops and commander are on that side of the water. If the king should give the order, I will lead the army across and give battle. When the letter reached the king of Iran, his crown and throne rose to the heights of Saturn. He took refuge in God and sought fortune from Him, so that this young tree might bear fruit. In joy he wrote a reply, fresh as a springtime in April. It began: From the Creator of the sun and moon, ruler of the world, giver of crown and throne, may your heart be forever glad, freed from pain and misfortune, always in victory and splendor, with the crown of greatness and the diadem of kingship. You led an army and sought battle, for you possess fortune, skill, and truth. The scent of milk still rises from your lips, yet you have wrapped your bow with battle-leather. May your body always be full of skill, and may your bright heart's wishes come true. Now that you have won the fight, you must pause and take care in what comes next. You must not scatter the army; measure your days and prepare your position. For that Turk is treacherous and foul, of bad blood and bad character. Even with his crown and his power, he still tries to raise his head above the shining moon. Do not rush into battle; Afrasiyab himself will come to fight you. If he pushes his army across the Oxus toward this side, he will only drag his own robe through blood. He pressed his seal upon the letter and at once called the messenger forward. He handed it over and sent him back, and the messenger raced away over hill and valley. The messenger reached Siyavash, who, when he saw the letter of Iran's king, kissed the ground and rejoiced, freeing his heart from every sorrow. Made glad by the king's letter, he smiled and pressed it to his head. He kept his father's command awake in his mind and never turned his heart from that promise. On the other side, Garsivaz, that insolent man, came to the king of the Turks swift as dust on the wind. He spoke his foul and bitter words: that Commander Siyavash had reached Balkh, leading a heavy army like Rostam's, full of famous heroes and warriors. For each of us there were fifty of them, proud men wielding ox-headed maces. The foot soldiers were fierce as fire, shield-bearers armed with arrows and quivers. No eagle could match their speed, and not one of them lets sleep touch his head. For three days and three nights it went on like this, until the proud men and their horses grew weary. Whenever sleep came over one of them, he rushed all the more eagerly back to the fight. He would sleep, rise refreshed, and start a new battle all over again. Afrasiyab flared up like fire: 'Why do you keep talking to me of rest and sleep?' He glared at Garsivaz as if he meant to cut him in two. He gave a shout and drove him from his sight, ready to unleash his fury upon him. He ordered: 'Summon a thousand of the famous nobles and prepare a feast.' 'Deck the whole plain with tents and adorn Soghd as splendidly as China.' So he passed the day in joy, until the world-lighting sun sank from sight. Then he hurried to sleep and rest, and Afrasiyab tossed and turned upon his bed.

When one watch of the dark night had passed, as if someone whispers secrets in a fever, a cry burst out from Afrasiab; his rest and sleep trembled where he lay. The attendants sprang up in a rush, raising an uproar and a clamor. When the news reached Garsivaz that the royal crown had gone dark with dread, he came quickly to the king and found him sprawled on the ground beside his path. He took him in his arms and asked, 'Tell this tale to your brother.' He answered, 'Do not question me; say nothing to me at this moment. Wait until I recover my wits; hold me close and steady me a while.' A while passed, and when he came to himself, the worldly king was still moaning and crying out. They set a lamp, and he climbed onto the throne, trembling like a tree in the wind. The renowned Garsivaz asked him, 'Open your lips and tell me this strange thing.' The noble Afrasiab spoke thus: 'No one has ever seen such a dream, the like of what I saw this dark night, nor have I heard of it from young or old. In my dream I saw a desert full of snakes, the world thick with dust, the sky full of eagles. The earth was dry and cracked, as if the sky had never shown its face to it since time began. My royal pavilion was pitched on the plain's edge, with an army of brave warriors around it. A wind rose up, thick with dust, and toppled my banner upside down. On every side ran a river of blood; my pavilion and tents were thrown to the ground. And of my army, more than a thousand had their heads cut off, their bodies flung in shame. An army from Iran came roaring like the wind, some with spears in hand, some with bow and arrow. Every one of their spears bore its fruit, and each horseman had a severed head at his side. Horsemen charged at my throne, dressed in black, a hundred thousand spearmen. They tore me up from where I sat and dragged me along with my hands bound. I looked hard in every direction, but not one of my own people stood before me. A famous, hot-headed champion ran and hauled me before Kavus. There stood a throne like the shining moon, and on it sat the son of King Kavus. He was no more than two weeks old, yet when he saw me bound before him, he thundered like a roaring storm cloud and cut me in two at the waist with his blade. I screamed and screamed from the pain, and my moaning and agony woke me.' Garsivaz said to him, 'This dream of the king can only mean the wish of one who loves you well.' You will have all your heart desires, both crown and throne, while fortune turns its back on your enemy. Someone must interpret this dream, a person with a deep measure of knowledge. Let us summon the wise-hearted priests, the astrologers and men of good sense. Everyone who knows this art, scattered though they be, should come to the king's court. They gathered at the ruler's gate, wondering why he had called for them. He called them in and seated each with honor, and spoke with every one at length. He said to the famous priests: 'You pure-hearted, righteous men of wisdom, if I hear from anyone in this world, openly or in secret, of this dream and my words, I will not leave a single head joined to its body if any of them breathes a word of this.' He gave them boundless gold and silver, so that no one would live in fear of him. Then he told them what he had seen in his sleep; when the priest heard these words from the king, he grew afraid and begged the king for safety, asking how he could speak this dream truthfully. 'Unless the king makes a pact with his servant, and holds his tongue accountable for the answer, so that whatever knowledge we have on this, we may open to the king and be treated justly.' The king gave his word to grant them safety, that he would find no fault in them for the bad news. He was an eloquent, deeply thoughtful man, who unfolded his fine words beautifully. He said: 'From the king of the world's dream there came, in waking life, a mighty army. A prince marches at its head, experienced, with many guides beside him. Under such a star the king sent him forth, that this land will be ruined for us. If the king goes to war with Siyavash, the face of the world will run red like silk. Not one Turk will be left untouched, and the king will be grieved by his war. And if the prince is killed by the king's hand, no crown, throne, or dignity will remain in Turan. The whole earth will fill with turmoil, war and vengeance, all for the sake of Siyavash. Then you will remember this truth, when the country lies ruined by its losses. Even if the world-ruler became a bird and flew, he could not escape this turning wheel of fate. This is how the heavens will keep turning, sometimes full of wrath, sometimes full of love.' Afrasiab grew troubled when he heard this, and made no haste to seek out war. He opened his secrets to Garsivaz, and shared many hidden thoughts with him. 'If I do not march my army against Siyavash, no one will come seeking revenge. Neither will he be slain in battle, nor I, and this whole affair will finally rest.' Kavus will not seek vengeance against me, nor will chaos overrun the whole earth. Instead of chasing the world and making war, let me have no task but making peace. I will send him silver and gold, along with a crown, a throne, and countless jewels. Perhaps then these troubles will pass me by, for I fear my very soul will wither away. If I shut fate's eye with treasure, then perhaps the heavens will spare me from suffering. I want nothing from time but what it has already written; one must live the way God has shaped things. When half the turning sky had passed, the shining sun revealed its face. The nobles came to the king's court, servants and lords crowned in their finery. He gathered a council of wise men, sober and seasoned chieftains. He told them: I see no gain from these days but endless war. So many famous men have perished by my hand in the battles of this gathering. Many a city has turned into a house of the sick, and many a garden into a field of thorns. Many an orchard has become my battleground, marked on every side by traces of my army. When the king of the world rules unjustly, even hidden goodness withers away. The wild ass gives birth out of season, the falcon's chick is born with blind eyes. The prey's cub gets no milk from the lioness's teat, and the water in its own spring turns to pitch. The springs of the world run dry, and the musk pod holds no scent of musk. Honesty flees from crookedness, and decline shows itself on every side. Now let us remember wisdom and justice, and bring justice in place of grief and pain. Let the world find some rest through us, so that death does not strike us suddenly. Two thirds of the world lie beneath my feet; my dominion covers Iran and Turan. Consider how so many warriors bring me heavy tribute every year. If you all agree with me, I will send a message to Rostam. I will seek peace with Siavash too, and send him gifts beyond measure. One by one the chiefs gave their reply, all wishing for what was good and right. They said: you are the king and we are like your servants, set on obeying whatever you command. They all went back with minds full of justice, and no one held onto grief or pain. Then the king said to Garsivaz: get everything ready and prepare for the road. Set out quickly and do not delay; choose two hundred riders from the army. Head to Siavash with a treasury adorned with every kind of precious thing. Arabian horses with golden bridles, and Indian swords in golden sheaths. A crown fit for a king, set with jewels, and a hundred camel loads of fine carpets. Two hundred servants and maids as well. Tell him: I have no quarrel with you. Greet him warmly and say to him: we have not turned toward Iran. The land as far as the Oxus is mine; I hold Sogdia, and this kingdom stands apart. It has been so ever since bold Tur and Salm turned the world upside down. Ever since Iraj, killed though innocent, when the minds of the great were stripped of reason. Once there was no divide between Turan and Iran, no acquaintance with hatred and war. From God I hope for this: that greetings, peace, and good news may come. God raised you up from the land of Iran because he saw kindness in you among the brave. Through your good fortune the world will find rest; war and wickedness will fade away. When Garsivaz comes to you, your dark thoughts will turn back to light. Just as in the days of noble Fereydun, who divided the world and gave it to his heroes. Let us share it out and bring back that wisdom, and pull our feet back from war and hatred. You are a king; speak with the king of Iran, so perhaps the warrior's head may soften. Speak your words to the mighty champion; use smooth persuasion and tell him many tales. In the same way, send a message to Rostam: a servant, a horse, and golden bridles. Carry gifts like these to him as well, so that the matter may be settled well. Only the golden throne is denied him, for he is no king, and a champion has no place at the royal gate.

Garsivaz brought the treasure, so much of it that the whole earth seemed adorned by it. Riding hard, he reached the banks of the Oxus, and chose one of the warriors as his messenger. He sent him to bring word to the king that Garsivaz had come with such splendor. In a single day he crossed the water by boat, and rode toward Balkh with an eager heart. The messenger came to the king's court and announced that Garsivaz was on his way. Siyavash summoned the mighty Rustam and spoke with him at length about this matter. When Garsivaz arrived at the king's court, Siyavash ordered the way opened for him. Siyavash saw him and rose to his feet, smiled, and offered many courtesies. From a distance Garsivaz kissed the ground, his face full of shame and his heart full of fear. Siyavash seated him below the throne and questioned him closely about Afrasiyab. When Garsivaz took his place in the new court, he beheld the young king's crowned head. He said to Rustam: When Afrasiyab learned of you in haste, he sent a token to the king, which I have now brought along the road. He gave the order, and the curtains were drawn back and everything was laid out before Siyavash's eyes. From the city gate to the palace hall there were coins and horses and servants and crowns. No one could reckon how much it all was, the gold, the crowns, and the lofty thrones. The servant boys all wore caps and belts, and the attendants gold bracelets and golden collars. It pleased Siyavash greatly; his face brightened as he looked, and he heard the message out. Rustam said to him: Be glad and stay a week, until we can give our answer. This request calls for much thought, and also for consulting everyone. When the far seeing Garsivaz heard this, he kissed the ground and gave his blessing. They prepared a house for him, furnished with brocade, and called for cooks to serve him. The two men sat wide awake together, weighing the matter, its greater and lesser parts. Rustam grew suspicious of the whole affair, of the way Garsivaz had come rushing in like this. They sent out scouts in every direction and made ready as the need required. Siyavash asked Rustam: Let us bring this secret out of hiding. Why is he seeking this peace? Look and find the antidote to this poison. Among his own kin who share his blood, see which hundred of them are men of renown, and let him send them as hostages to us; that will clear up this murky plan of ours. We must not grow anxious out of fear that he is beating a war drum in secret beneath a blanket. Once we have settled this with the king, we should send a good and trustworthy messenger. He will carry word of these matters to Afrasiyab, in hope of emptying his mind of hatred. Rustam said: This is the right course; no other path will hold the treaty together. At dawn Garsivaz came to the door, fully dressed with his crown and belt. He came before Siyavash, kissed the ground, and offered praise to the prince. Siyavash said to him: I was deeply troubled by your affair and by your words. Now the whole plan is settled on this: that we should wash our hearts clean of hatred. You will send a reply to Afrasiyab: if your head has been rushing toward vengeance, anyone who foresees a bad ending should turn back from his evil deeds. A heart adorned with wisdom becomes a treasury full of riches. If there is no poison beneath the honey, your heart has no share of pain and loss. If you truly mean to make this pact, that we will seek neither harm nor hatred, then of the champions whom Rustam knows, whose names he will read out to you, you will send them to me as gifts of goodwill, as witnesses that your words are true. And besides that, whatever belongs to the land of Iran, those cities you now hold in your hand, you will give them up and return to Turan, and rest a while from war and vengeance. There will be nothing but honesty between us; I will not gird myself for hatred. I will send a letter to the king, in hope that he will call the army back with peace. At once Garsivaz sent off a messenger, one like a roaring lion. He told him: Do not foolishly lay your head down to sleep; ride hard to Afrasiyab. Tell him: I hurried swiftly, and everything I sought I have obtained. The prince asks hostages from the king, if you want him to turn away from battle. The messenger came and delivered the word from the prince and from the noble Garsivaz. When the king heard what the messenger said, he twisted in anguish and lost his way. He kept saying: a hundred of my own kinsmen, if they are taken from our gathering, a breach will come upon this court, and no well-wisher will be left to me. But if I say, Do not seek hostages from me, then everything I said will seem a lie to him. I must send them to him as a gift, if he will not agree without hostages. So, just as Rustam had named them, he counted out nearly a hundred of his close kin. He sent them to the king of Iran, and gave them many robes of honor and kindness. He ordered the war drums and trumpets sounded, and the royal pavilion was lowered. From Khara, Sughd, Samarkand, and Chach, from Sepijab, that land, and the ivory throne, he cleared out and marched with his army toward Gang; he made no excuse, no trick, no delay. When Rustam learned of his departure, his mind was freed from its worry. He came to Siavash swift as the wind and recalled all the things he had heard. He told him: since matters have been set right, it is fitting that Garsivaz should return. He ordered a robe of honor prepared, and called for armor, a helmet, and a belt. An Arabian horse with golden trappings, and an Indian sword in a golden sheath. When Garsivaz saw the king's robe of honor, you would think he had seen the moon come down to earth. He set off with a tongue full of praise, so swift you would think he was rolling up the earth beneath him. Siavash sat upon the ivory throne, the crown suspended above it. He took counsel with a smooth talker, one who gives words their color and scent. He was seeking a brave horseman from the army who could arrange an audience with the king. The mighty champion said to him: who could dare open speech at that door? Kavus is just as he was before; his temper will not lessen nor his will yield. Perhaps I should go before the king of the world and lay bare to him what lies hidden. If you command it, I will cross the land; I see nothing but good in going. Siavash was glad at his words, and the matter of the envoys settled like the wind. The commander and Rustam sat together and spoke of every thing, great and small. He ordered the scribe to come before him and write a letter on silk. First he gave praise to the Just One, from whom he had received strength, glory, and skill. The Lord of consciousness, of time and place, who nurtures wisdom along with the soul. No one can escape His command, no one who turns away from His covenant. Such a one sees nothing in the world but ruin; with Him lie abundance and truth. From Him be praise upon the king, the world's ruler, chosen among the renowned. His judgment reaches every good and ill; praising wisdom has become his measure. I reached Balkh in its joyful spring, wholly content with my days. When Afrasiyab got news of me, the sun turned black before his eyes. He knew his task had grown hard; the world darkened and his fortune fell low. His brother came bearing gifts and many finely adorned, beautiful maidens. That he begs for mercy from the king of the world, and will hand over his crown and the throne of the great to him. He will be content with his own borders in this world, and finally know his true rank and worth. He will give up the dark soil of Iran's land, and wash his heart clean of hatred and war. He sent a hundred of his own kin to me, and the elephant-bodied hero came with this same plea. If you pardon him, it fits your kindness; his face bears witness to the love within him. When the battle-seeking hero had written his letter, he set out toward King Kavus. And on the other side, Garsivaz the well-wisher came before the king of the Turanian army. He told the whole story of Siyavash, that among kings there is none to match him. Of his handsome looks and his conduct, his wisdom, his heart, his modesty, his speech, Brave, eloquent, a warrior and horseman; you would think he held wisdom in his very arms. The king laughed and said to him: A settlement is better than war, my well-wisher. And also, that dream filled me with dread; from a height I saw the sign of a fall. Full of pain, I turned back to seek a remedy, so I would not face those heights and falls. I arranged a solution with treasure and coin, and now it has turned out just as I wished. And on the other side, when Rostam the lion-man came before the king of Iran swift as dust, He came forward with hands folded in respect, and the commander rose to his seat. He asked after him and held him in his arms, asking about his son and the turning of the days, About the warriors, the battle, and the army's affairs, and why he had turned back from his road. First he opened his tongue about Siyavash, praised him greatly, and handed over the letter. When the noble scribe read the letter to him, the face of the world's king turned dark as pitch. He said to Rostam: I grant that he is young, and no evil has yet befallen him. But in all the world there is no one like you; lions seek to learn their skill from you in battle. Did you not see Afrasiab's evils, that we lost our food, our peace, and our sleep? I should have gone, but I held back; I had a head full of war against him. I did not go, for they said: Do not leave here; wait until the new ruler prepares himself. Since divine punishment was destined to come, the reward for evils was to be evil itself. With that ill-gotten, inherited wealth, in this way his heart was decked out. Wealth he seized from every innocent person, so that he could twist your hearts from the true path, By a hundred helpless Turks of vile stock, whose fathers' names you do not even remember. Now what does he care about the hostages? For him, they are like dust before his eyes. If you would set your mind to the task, know I am not tired of battle and war. I will now send to Siyavash a man full of wisdom and cunning. I will order him: light a great fire, and bind the Turks in heavy chains. Throw onto that fire everything of value; see that you do not reach for a single thing. Then send those prisoners to me, for I want to tear their heads from their bodies. You, with your army eager for war, march at once to his court. Open your hands and fall on them completely, as a wolf falls upon a lamb. When you begin to teach him harshness, let your soldiers plunder and burn. Then Afrasiab will come to fight you, once his rest and sleep turn bitter. The mighty Rostam said to him: O king, do not let your heart grieve over this. Listen to me first, my king; then the whole world is under your command. You said: against Afrasiab, do not drive the army swiftly across the water. Wait until he comes to fight, for he will rush without delay. We held back from war a while; it was he who first opened the door to peace. One who seeks peace, feasting, and celebration should not be met with battle. And besides, for a king to break his word is not admired by a man of good will. When Siyavash was victorious in war, he moved like a brave leopard. What did he seek but the throne, crown, and royal seal, comfort, and the treasure of the land of Iran? He has gained it all, so do not seek war in vain; do not muddy your bright heart with dark water. If Afrasiab, with all he has promised, means to conceal a broken word, we have not grown tired of seeking battle; the sword and the lion's claw remain in place. Do not demand that your son break his word; do not ask what does not befit a crowned head. Why must words be spoken in secret? Siyavash will never turn back from his pledge. And this plan the king has devised will bring turmoil to this renowned court. When Kavus heard this, he filled with rage; he grew furious at those words and opened his eyes wide. The king of the world said to Rostam: so, the matter no longer stays hidden. It is you who planted this in his head; you tore the root of enmity from his heart like this. In this you sought your own comfort, not the glory of the crown, throne, and seal. Stay here, then, while the commander Tus straps the war drum onto the elephant for this campaign. I will now send a courier to Balkh, with a letter full of bitter words. If Siyavash turns away from my pact and refuses to obey my command, let him hand the army over to the commander Tus, and return home with his close companions. If he still holds this quarrel in his head, he will get from me whatever he deserves. Rostam grew sick at heart and said aloud: 'Let the heavens hide my head from sight.' 'If Tus is a better fighter than Rostam, then take it that Rostam counts for nothing in this world.' He said this and walked out of the king's presence, his eyes full of anger, his face knotted with rage. At once the king summoned Tus and ordered him to lead the army onto the road. When Tus came out from before Kavus, he gave the order for the troops, the trumpets, and the war drums: to make ready and prepare for the march, and to shorten the road to that battlefield.

King Kavus prepared a fast courier and ordered him to set out on the road. He summoned the scribe of letters and seated him on a golden chair adorned with figures. He dictated a letter full of anger and war, its tongue sharp, its face flushed like an unripe fruit. First he gave praise to the Creator, the Lord of peace and of battle. The Lord of Mars, Saturn, and the Moon, the Lord of good and evil, glory and rank. By His command the turning heavens move; from Him love is spread out in every place. May you, young man, keep your health and fortune, and remain forever with crown and throne. If my counsel has grown dark in your heart, and the sleep of youth has dazzled your head, You have heard what the enemy did to Iran once the tide of war turned in his favor. Now do not foolishly seek to honor the enemy, and do not disgrace this royal court. In your youth, do not set your mind on being deceived, unless you wish to fear the turning wheel of fate. For I myself, because of his flattering words, turned back many times from battle with him. If he deceives you, it is no wonder; you must measure yourself against my own example. No talk of peace ever passed with me; he turned his face away from my command. And Rostam, adorned with treasure, will never grow tired of his own desires. For that lifeless royal crown, your head has emptied itself of seeking war. Seek self-sufficiency with the sword; a king's honor lies in his own realm. When Tus the commander reaches you, he will set your affairs in order as they should be. The hostages you hold in heavy chains, load at once onto donkeys. The servants and whatever wealth there is, send it quickly to the court. Gird yourself and make ready to fight; do not draw out long speeches on this matter. When you make ready for war and launch a night raid, you will turn the black earth into the raging Oxus. The enemy commander will not lay his head to sleep; Afrasiab will come to fight you. And if you feel affection for that devil, and do not want him to call you a breaker of oaths, Then hand the army over to noble Tus and turn back; you are no man for the clash of the day of battle. You have mingled with fair faces, and fled from war to the feast. They sealed the letter with the king's seal; the courier took wing and cut through the road. When the letter reached Siyavash, he saw its words were of that ugly kind. He called the messenger and questioned him keenly, and drew out every detail plainly from him. The messenger told what had passed with Rostam, and how the mind of Tus and Kavus had been troubled. When Siyavash heard what he said, he was pained by Rostam's words and turned his face away. He grew troubled in his heart over his father's conduct, over the Turks, and over the days of war. He said to himself: a hundred Turkish men and horsemen, all of them famous kin of a king, all of them well-meaning and innocent; if I send them to the king, he will not question them, he will give no thought to their case; at once he will hang them alive on the gallows. What excuse could I bring before God? My father's deed will fall as evil upon my own head. And if I make war though I am innocent, so recklessly against the king of Turan's army, the Lord of the world will not approve this wrong from me, and every gathering will speak ill of me. And if I turn back to the king and hand the army over to the commander Tus, harm will come to me from him as well; on left and right I see evil, and evil ahead. Nothing but wickedness comes from Sudabeh; I do not know what God has decreed for me. Two brave warriors of the army, like Bahram and like Zangeh of Shavaran, he summoned close to share his secret; he cleared the hall and seated them before him. For his secret was safe with these two, once Rostam had left the assembly. He said to them: through ill fortune, much misery keeps falling upon me. With such affection the king's heart was like a tree heavy with leaves and fruit. But when Sudabeh began to deceive him, you would say that fruit turned to biting poison. His harem became my prison; my heart grew wretched, and my once-smiling fortune darkened. So the days turned against me: his love bore fire as its fruit. In my wretchedness I chose war, hoping only to escape the dragon's claws. In Balkh there was a great army, and a vengeful commander like Garsivaz. In Sogdia sat the king himself, full of hatred, with a hundred thousand swordsmen. We went forth like a roaring wind; we lost no moment in battle with them. When they surrendered the whole land, they made ready hostages and gifts. All the priests showed us the path: that we should turn back from this battlefield. But my conduct did not please him; he strives to torment and injure me. He recklessly orders me to fight; I fear he will make me break my oath. And if the war is only for greater gain, since treasure and land have already come to hand, why must blood be spilled so pointlessly, why fasten our hearts to vengeance like this? One should not defy God, or one must hear reproach without end. He wants to take both worlds from me, so I will be left to the desire of the devil's heart. If only my mother had never given birth to me, or if she did, that death had come upon me at once. For so many disasters must be endured, and in this world one must taste poison. This is the pledge I have made, swearing oaths in the name of God. If I turn my face from honesty, ruin will come at me from every side. This word has spread through the world: that we laid a foundation of peace with the king of the Turks. Everyone will open their tongue to slander me, everywhere, as they see fit. To return to vengeance is to cut away from faith, to draw my head from heaven and earth alike. How could the Creator approve such a thing of me, wherever the turning of time may lead? I will go and seek some land in the world where my name stays hidden from Kavus. For the bright course of time will be only as the command of the world's Maker decrees. A head with no awareness in its mind cannot tell the worse from the better. Qobad came and went and passed through the world; he too must be counted among the departed. You, renowned Zangeh of Shavaran, prepare your body for heavy hardship. Go to the court of Afrasiab; do not linger, do not give yourself to sleep. The hostages and all this wealth, the gold, the crown, and the throne to sit upon, carry all of it before him, and tell him what has befallen us. He ordered Bahram, son of Gudarz: this renowned army and frontier, I hand over to you, the treasure, the elephants, the war drums; wait until commander Tus arrives. Then give him this army and this wealth, with every affair fully set in order. Count out to him one by one all that there is: treasure, crown, and throne to sit upon. When Bahram heard his words, his heart twisted in grief for him. Zangeh of Shavaran wept tears of blood and cursed the land of Hamavaran. Both sat together, full of sorrow; their spirits were darkened by his words. They said back to him: this is no wise plan; without your father you have no place in the world. Write a letter to the king, and ask him once again for the mighty-bodied warrior. If he commands war, then make ready for war; do not let long, idle brooding rule your heart. Do not turn fate dark against us now, when the tree of greatness has come to fruit. He did not accept the counsel of those two wise men; the secret of the lofty heavens was written otherwise. He gave this answer: the king's command I hold higher than the sun and the moon. Yet by the command of God the brave one stands: from the smallest straw to elephant and lion, none is spared. Whoever turns away from God's command loses his bearings and cannot find himself. One must reach out his hands to bloodshed, and lead two nations into vengeance. And after that, who knows whom the turning of fate will lift up from this battle? For his own gain he stirs up pain, and drags back words better left forgotten. The same wrath and strife bear fruit, and bring tears of grief into every embrace. If your hearts have darkened at what I do, and you turn away from my words, then I will be my own messenger and guide, and stay here alone on this plain of tents. When Siyavash gave such an answer, the spirits of the two proud warriors withered. They wept at the fear of parting from him, roasting as if on a fierce fire. The evil eye of fate could see what secretly lay in store for the prince. They would never see his face again; that is why their eyes wept over his fate. Zangeh said: We are your servants, our hearts filled with love for our commander. May our bodies and souls be sacrificed for you; may our vow hold like this until death. When he received such an answer from his loyal friend, the clear-minded prince spoke to Zangeh: Go and tell the king of Turan's army what has now come upon me from this affair. From this peace it is war that falls to my share; all your sweetness is my pain and poison. I will not break my pledge to you, even if I am cast far from the royal throne. The Lord of the world, God, is my refuge; the earth is my throne and the sky my crown. And besides, having done no wrong to deserve it, it was not right to go before my king. Open a road for me to pass through, to the place where God has set my watering ground. Let me seek out a land in the world where my name stays hidden from Kavus. So I hear no word of his bad temper, and rest a while from his warring. Zangeh set out with a hundred famous riders, taking hostages from the royal court. When he reached the city of the Turks' commander, a cry went up and the watchman spotted him. A great nobleman came out to meet him, a warrior whose name was Turg. When Zangeh came near the king, the commander rose from his high seat. He held him close in a tight embrace, honored him, and seated him beside himself. Once seated with the king, he delivered his message and recounted all the words to him. When Afrasiab heard it, he writhed; his heart filled with pain and his head with turmoil. He ordered a place prepared for him, and they welcomed him with all the honor he deserved. When Piran arrived, the king cleared the room, and he spoke privately with his renowned minister. About Kavus and his reckless talk, his bad temper, his schemes, and his warring. He spoke with a darkened face, his heart full of grief over what had happened to Siyavash. He recalled the whole story of sending Zangeh Shavaran, every detail from beginning to end. He asked, 'What remedy can we find for this? What plan should we set for a way out?' Piran said to him, 'O king, may you live in joy as long as time endures. You know more than we do about every matter, and you are more capable when action is needed. Yet my judgment, my heart, my knowledge, and my counsel, my thinking in my place, is this: That anyone in this world who has the power to do good, openly or in secret, would not hold back from this prince, from treasure or from effort, whatever it may cost. I have heard that in all the world there is no one among the great to equal him, in stature and looks and calm bearing, in learning and judgment and worthiness. In skill and wisdom he surpasses even his noble lineage; no mother ever bore a prince like him. To see him now is better than to hear of him: he is precious, royal, and great. And even if he had no other merit than this: that over the blood of a hundred famous men, he broke with his father, he grew enraged, abandoned throne and crown, and it is by this course that he now seeks refuge with you. By the path of wisdom it would not look well if this famed man simply passed on out of this land. The great ones would reproach you, and his fate too would weigh heavy on your name. And besides, Kavus has grown old; his time on the throne is passing away. Siyavash is young and full of royal glory; the customs and the throne of kingship will pass to him. If the king sees fit, in his lofty wisdom, let him write a beneficial letter, to cherish this wise young man just as one would cherish his own son. Let him arrange a home for him in this land and keep him in a manner worthy of him. Let him give his daughter to him with proper ceremony and keep him in comfort and honor. Perhaps he will remain near you, and make your realm and soil his resting place. And if he returns to his own king, still you will fare better with fortune for it. It would earn gratitude before the king of the earth, and the great ones of the world would bless you. The bitterness between the two lands might at last find rest, if the just king would bring him to us. This is only right before the Creator of the world, that the age be set straight through this war.' When the commander heard Piran's words, he saw clearly everything that lay ahead. For a moment he fell into thought, weighing what was good and what was ill. He answered old Piran like this: 'Everything you have said is welcome to my heart.' 'Yet I have heard a certain tale that agrees well with this counsel.' 'When you raise the cub of a fierce lion, once its teeth grow sharp, you pay the price.' 'When it rises up in strength, with claws, it turns and strikes at the very one who reared it.' Piran said to him, 'A brave and wise king should look at things with reason.' 'A man who does not inherit his father's crookedness and evil ways, how could bad temper suit him?' 'Don't you see that Kavus has grown old? And when a man grows old, he must pass on.' 'Then Siavash will inherit the wide world, treasure gained without toil, halls and palaces.' 'Two kingdoms will be yours, along with crown and throne. Who but the truly fortunate finds such a thing?' When Afrasiab heard these words, he laid the foundation of a wise plan. He summoned his worldly, experienced scribe, opened his mouth, and poured out his words. First, when the scribe set his hand to the pen, he steeped its tip in fragrant amber. He began with praise of the world's Creator, showing forth His greatness and His wisdom, who stands above all place and time; how could any thought of servitude ever reach Him? He is the Lord of the soul and of reason; it was He who gave the wise their nourishment. 'From Him, greetings to the prince, lord of the mace, the sword, and the helmet,' 'lord of modesty and of proper fear, whose heart and hand are clean of tyranny and wrong.' 'I have heard your message, from end to end, from the vigilant heart of Zangeh of Shavaran.' 'My heart grew sad that the king of the world has secretly turned so sharp against you.' 'Yet in this world, what does a wise man of alert fortune seek besides the crown and throne?' 'All of this is prepared for you here, whether you want kingship or possessions.' 'The whole land of Turan will bow before you; as for me, I will need only your affection.' 'You will be like a son to me, and I like a father, a father who stands ready, belt fastened, to serve his son.' 'Know that Kavus, even on the day he seemed kindest, never showed you a face as warm as this.' 'I will open the doors of my locked treasury and hand over to you the crown, the throne, the seat of power.' 'I will keep you free of hardship, like my own child; you will remain in the world as my memorial.' 'But if you pass beyond my land into the world, both low and high will heap blame upon me.' 'And from this side you will find the passage hard, unless divine custom and glory are with you.' On this road you will find no clear ground; you would have to cross the sea of China itself. God has freed you from all such need. Stay right here and take pride in your comfort. The army, the treasury, and the city are yours. You need not look for an excuse to leave. When you decide to make peace with your father, I will hand you the crown and the golden belt. So that you may go from here to Iran with an army, and out of true care I will open the way for you. Your quarrel with your father will not last long; he has grown old, and he will tire of fighting. If a man sees his sixty-fifth year, the fire in him is worn down by the wind of old age. Iran, the treasury, and the army will be yours; the crown will pass from one land to another. I promise before the pure God that I will strive to do good with all my heart and body. I will neither command evil nor commit it myself, and I will not let my heart even lean toward it in thought. When the king had sealed the letter, he gave orders that Zangeh, the loyal well-wisher, should quickly gird himself to set out. He prepared a robe of honor adorned with silver and gold, and a horse under heavy trappings; then Zangeh of Shavaran came riding hard. When he reached the foot of Siyavash's throne, he told what he was asked, and he listened and saw. In one way Siyavash was glad of it; in another he was filled with grief and anguish. For he had to turn an enemy into a friend, and where can a cold wind rise up out of fire? He wrote a letter to his father, recalling every detail of all that had happened: Young as I was, I still gained wisdom, and I hurried toward whatever was good or ill. That woman, the very core of the world's king, secretly set my heart ablaze. His harem became the first of my sorrows; I had to wash my face with the blood of my heart. I had to pass through a mountain of fire; even the wild deer on the plain wept for me bitterly. From that shame and disgrace I marched to war; step by step I walked into the jaws of the crocodile. Two lands rejoiced at this peace, but the king's heart turned hard as a steel blade. Nothing about it pleases him; whatever is loosed is bound again just the same. Once his eyes grow tired of the sight of me, people do not linger long over what has tired them. May his heart never be free of joy, though I, out of grief, have stepped into the dragon's breath. I do not know what the turning heavens hold in secret for me from this affair, whether hatred or love. After that he gave orders to Bahram: make your desire fresh again throughout the world. I entrust to you the crown and the royal pavilion, along with the filled treasury, the throne, and the seat of power, the banner, the horsemen, the elephants, and the war drums, until the commander Tus arrives here. Hand him this task in the same way; stay awake and alert as the times demand. He wept tears of blood, pale and bitter, while the lips of the brave men filled with cold sighs. From the army he chose three hundred horsemen, all seasoned and fit for battle. A hundred picked horses with golden bridles, and a hundred servants in golden belts. He ordered them brought before him, and the weapons, harnesses, and belts to be counted. And also as much money as he would need, in coin, in gold, and in kingly jewels. Then he called the nobles to him and spoke to them the words that had to be said. He said: From Afrasiab, Piran has crossed the river and come to this side. He brings me a secret message, one that lets me feel safe among the gathering. I am preparing now to go and meet him; you must all remain here. Turn all toward Bahram, and do not turn your hearts away from what he says. The warriors kissed the ground, offering blessings to that noble commander.

When the shining sun turned its back, the sky grew dark and the earth grew harsh. Siyavash led his army to the Oxus, and from his aching heart he wept tears of blood. When he reached Termez, its rooftops and streets were like springtime, full of color and scent. Every city, all the way to Chach, was so adorned you would think it was a bride wearing a crown and necklace. At every stopping place they had prepared food, lovely dishes laid out in abundance. He rode on like this to the mountain of Qachqar, then halted there and stayed a while. When word of him arrived, they all came to welcome him, every proud lord marching out with drums. Piran chose a thousand of his kin and made ready to go and receive him. He decked out four white elephants and gave the whole army the good news at once. On one he set a turquoise throne, a glittering litter that rose like a tree. Its top a golden moon, its base violet, its silk banner woven through with gold. Beside the golden throne came three more elephants, and a hundred moon-faced maidens with golden belts. The army was so splendid you would say the heavens had adorned the face of the earth with love. A hundred precious horses with golden saddles, all decked out in fine brocade from head to tail. Siyavash heard the army was coming, and he too prepared to go and meet them. When he saw the banner of the commander Piran and heard the trumpeting of elephants and the neighing of horses, He went swiftly and took him in his arms, and asked him about the famous king. He said to him: Commander of the army, why did you trouble your soul with this long journey? Before anything, the thought in my heart was that my two eyes would find you in good health. Piran kissed his head and his feet, and his beautiful, heart-pleasing face. He said: Young king, if my soul had shown me this even in a dream, I would praise God first of all, now that I have seen you bright and in good health. Afrasiab will be like a father to you, and on this side of the river we will all be your servants. Of my kin there are more than a thousand, servants ready, wearing their earrings of rank. Do not draw a single breath without your heart's desire; every man and woman here will be your servant. If you will accept me, old as I am, I will bind my belt to serve you. They both went on together in joy, talking of all things, great and small. All along the road the sound of harp and lute lifted the sleeping from their sleep. The dust turned fragrant with musk and gold, and the Arabian horses seemed to sprout wings. When Siyavash saw all this, tears poured from his eyes, and from his brooding thoughts he fell into grief. He remembered the land of Zabulistan, all the way to Kabulistan, richly adorned. He thought of the cities of Iran, and drew a cold sigh up from his heart. His heart recalled Iran and burned; his face flared bright like fire. He turned away from Piran and hid his face, but the commander saw his grief and pain. He knew what had crossed the young man's mind; he grieved, and bit his lip in silence. They came down to rest at Qachqar Bashi, sat, and caught their breath together. Piran studied his face, his bearing, his neck and shoulders, and his words. His eyes stayed fixed on him in wonder, and again and again he spoke the name of God. He said to him: 'Renowned prince, you are the living memory of the kings of the world. Three things are yours that no one born of the great ones in this world possesses. First, that men trace their lineage back to you, as though from the line of Kai Qobad. Second, a tongue so honest, adorned with fine and gentle speech. Third, that from your very face love seems to rain down upon the earth.' Siavash answered him: 'Pure and truthful old man, famed in the world for love and loyalty, far from any evil, far from cruelty, if you will make a pact with me, I trust you will not break your word to me. If staying here is truly good for me, then I need not weep over this choice. And if it is not, then let me move on; show me the road to some other land.' Piran said: 'Do not fret about this, now that you have left the land of Iran. Do not turn your heart from Afrasiab's affection, and do not rush at all to leave. His name is spread through the world as evil, yet he is otherwise: a godly man. He has wisdom, judgment, and keen sense; he does not harm anyone without cause. I too am tied to him by blood; I am both his champion and his guide. In this whole land, more than a hundred thousand horsemen stand under my command. I have land and estates and flocks, and horses, weapons, bows, and lassos. I need nothing from anyone; and I have much more still, kept hidden away. Let all I own be sacrificed for you, if only you settle here in happiness. By the pure God I take you as my own, with the mind and heart of the wise, I take you, so that no harm may come to you from misfortunes, though no one knows the secret of the lofty heavens, unless some turmoil rises through you in the city, and you mix, from afar, the antidote with the poison.' Siyavash was calmed by those words; his face lit up and he was ready for the wine cup. They sat down to eat together, and Siyavash became like a son, and Piran like a father. They set out laughing and happy, never pausing anywhere along the road. So they traveled until they reached the city of Gang, where the palace of rest was pleasant. Afrasiab came out on foot into the street, his belt tied and hurrying down from his hall. When Siyavash saw him on foot, he climbed down from his horse and ran toward him. They embraced each other and kissed many times on the eyes and the head. Then Afrasiab said this: the turning world has fallen into sleep, its strife at rest. From now on no uproar will rise, no war; sheep and leopard will drink at the same stream. The world was thrown into turmoil since brave Tur; now the face of the earth is weary of war. Both lands were entirely full of tumult; the world's heart was blind to any peace. Now, through you, the age will grow gentle and rest from war and the boiling of blood. Now the cities of Turan are your servants, every heart filled with love for you. All I have, along with my life, is yours; the commander is yours in soul and body. Siyavash blessed him warmly and said: may fortune grant you what befits your noble nature. Thanks be to God, the maker of the world, from whom come peace and strife and enmity alike. The commander took Siyavash's hand in his and came to the royal throne and sat down. He looked at Siyavash's face and said: no one in the world is a match for this man. There has never been anyone like this on earth, with such a face, such stature, such glory and greatness. Then the chief said this to Piran: Kavus is hot-tempered and short on wisdom. How could he bear to part with such a son, one of such height and so many talents? My eyes are dazzled by his beautiful face; my heart is amazed at all he does. If anyone had a son like this, he would look no further in all the world. Then he chose one of the halls and had the whole palace spread with cloth of gold. They set before it a golden throne whose legs were all shaped like the heads of buffalo. They adorned it with Chinese silk and called for many attendants. Then he ordered that Siyavash go to the palace, live at his ease, and dwell in comfort. When Siyavash reached the front of the hall, its arch rose as high as Saturn. He came and sat upon that golden throne, but his wise soul was caught up in thought. When the commander's feast was made ready, a messenger came and called for Siyavash. Talk of every kind flowed at the table, and they laid a foundation of pure joy. When they rose from the king's banquet, they prepared a place for drinking wine. The lords came in with harps and minstrels, and all sat down together to drink. Afrasiab gave him his heart and soul; without Siyavash he could not even sleep. He drank wine until the world grew dark, and the head of the drinkers was dazed with wine. Siyavash walked happily to his palace, and in his drunkenness forgot all about Iran. That very night the king gave orders to all who had been at the gathering: Afrasiab said to Shideh, 'When Siyavash lifts his head from sleep, you, with my warriors and my kinsmen, whoever is greatest in the assembly, at dawn, with gifts and slaves, and precious horses with golden bridles, each man from the army bringing an offering of gold coins and royal jewels, in this manner go before Siyavash; go mindful, alert, and silent.' The commander sent an abundance of gifts, and in this way another week went by. One night the king said to Siyavash, 'Tomorrow let us both rise early, so we can go to the field with ball and mallet, ride awhile and enjoy ourselves with laughter. From everyone I have heard that at polo no champion can match you on the field. You are my son, worthy of the throne; you are the crown of kings and the backbone of the army.' Siyavash said to him, 'May you live forever; may my soul draw its sustenance from the sight of you. Kings seek their excellence from you; whoever undertakes anything must pass through your judgment. My bright day lies in seeing you; I seek from you both the ill and the good.' At dawn the champions went out to the field, striding, galloping, and laughing. Then the king of Turan said to him, 'Let us choose our sides for striking the ball. You take that side and I this side; let us split the players evenly between us.' Siyavash said to him, 'O king, how could my hand and mallet work against you? I cannot strike the ball opposite you; find another opponent on the field. Since I am worthy to be your companion, on this wide field I am your rider, on your side.' The commander was delighted by his words, and everyone's talk turned light and cheerful. By the life and head of King Kavus, he said, 'You shall be my partner and teammate. Show your skill before the riders, so no one will say the king chose badly. My men will praise you, and my smiling face will bloom with joy.' Siavash told him: the command is yours; the riders, the field, and the polo mallet are yours to arrange. The commander chose Kolbad, along with Garsivaz, Jahn, and Pulad. And Piran, and Nastihan the warrior, and Human, who could snatch the ball from the water itself. As companions he sent to Siavash men like Ruyin and the renowned Shideh. And Andariman, the bold horseman, and Arjasp, who unhorsed rivals like a fierce lion. Siavash said: you who seek glory, which of these dares to face me and lead the play? They are all the king's men, and I stand alone; I alone guard the mallet on my side. If the king permits, I will bring riders from Iran onto the field. Let them be my partners in striking the ball, as is the custom when two sides play. When the commander heard his proposal, he agreed to it at once. Siavash picked from the Iranians seven men, all fit for the task. The roar of drums rose from the field; the dust rose to level with the sky. From the clash of cymbals and the blast of the reed horns, you would think the field itself had heaved from its place. Siavash spurred his battle-horse forward, and the ball came rolling toward him in the dust. The moment he reached the field he struck it so hard that it vanished from sight. Then the exalted king ordered that another ball be brought to Siavash. Siavash kissed that ball, and the horns and kettledrums broke into a roar. Siavash mounted a fresh horse and hurled the royal ball with his hand. Then he worked it with his mallet so skillfully it was as if he had met the moon face to face. The ball vanished from his mallet; you would think the heavens had lifted it away. At that stroke Afrasiab broke into laughter, and the nobles started up as if from sleep. They cried aloud: never have we seen a rider so glorious upon the saddle. They cleared a place aside from the field, and the king came and took his throne. Siavash sat beside him on the throne, and the king rejoiced greatly at the sight of him. Then the seeker of glory said to the army: the field, the mallet, and the ball are yours now. The two armies made ready to contend, and the dust rose until it reached the sun. When the Turks pressed on fiercely, they meant to carry the ball away. But the Iranians snatched the ball ahead of them, and the Turks were left astonished at their own play. Siavash grew troubled on behalf of the Iranians and spoke in the voice of a champion. He said: whether it is a game on the field or true battle, all turns on the turning and dealing of fate. When the match is over, turn your faces back; hand them the ball just once. The riders gently reined in their horses; after that they did not push their mounts to a gallop. The Turks flung out a ball, and rode after it swift as fire. When the commander heard the shouting of the Turks, he understood what kind of skill this was. Then the king of the Turanian army said: a well wisher once told me, that in all the world no one is his match, when he draws his bow and looses arrows. When Siyavash heard the great man's words, he drew a royal bow from its case. The commander asked to see the bow, to test it and see who could handle it as ordered. He looked at the bow and stood astonished, and called down many royal blessings. The prince gave it to Garsivaz the swordsman: work its frame and string it. He struggled to string the bow, but failed, and stood there baffled and uncertain. The king took it from him, knelt on one knee, and worked the frame of the bow with his hands. He strung it and, laughing, the king said: now there is a bow to carry on campaign. In my youth my own bow was like this, but now the times have changed. In neither Turan nor Iran could anyone grip this bow in the moment of battle. No arm, shoulder, or chest but Siyavash's could master such a bow on the field of vengeance. They set up a target on the racing ground, and Siyavash did not measure himself against anyone. He mounted a swift steed, fast as a demon, pressed his thighs, and a great shout went up. He shot one arrow into the center of the target, while the proud chiefs kept their eyes on him. Then he loosed another four feathered shaft, flying with the wind, wings spread. In a single charge he riddled the target twice over, sieving it with his shots. He turned the rein to the right hand and struck again, exactly where he wished. He unstrung the bow and set it aside, then came before the exalted king. He dismounted, and the king rose to his feet, calling down the Creator's blessings on him. From there they went to the lofty palace, glad at heart and honored. They set the table and arranged the wine, and seated each man according to his rank. They drank some wine and grew merry, and drank a toast to Siyavash's name. At the table the king prepared a robe of honor: a horse with harness, a throne, and a crown. Also gold by the handful and uncut cloth, the like of which no one in the world had seen before. Of gold coins and sacks of silver, of rubies and turquoise, more and less. Many servants and a host of attendants, and a cup brimming with gleaming rubies. He ordered the treasures counted out and all carried to Siyavash's palace. Everyone in the land of Turan who was his own, he loved and cherished all the more. He told his kinsmen: all of you shall serve him, gathered around him like a flock. The king said to the young prince: come out with me one day to the hunting ground, so we may gladden and cheer our hearts, and free our spirits from sorrow through the hunt. He answered: whenever it pleases you, wherever your heart leads, I will go. One day they set off to the hunting ground, the king riding out with cheetahs and hawks. An army of every sort went with him, men of Iran and Turan speeding to the hunt. Siyavash spotted a wild ass on the plain and shot out from the ranks like the wind. The rein grew light, the stirrup heavy, as he galloped over rise and hollow. He struck one beast with his sword and split it in two; his two arms were a scale, the wild ass its silver. Neither half outweighed the other by a single grain. That royal army was quickly turned to spectators. The whole gathering said as one: here is a true champion, a master of the sword. They said aloud to one another: harm has come upon us from Iran. Our leaders find themselves in a tight place; it would be fitting to make war upon the king. Meanwhile Siyavash kept to the hunt, galloping and bringing down wild asses on the plain. He raced through cave and mountain and open field, wielding sword and arrow and spear. In every place he heaped up a pile of game, and gave the army its fill of the hunt. From there, with joyful hearts, they all took the road back to the king's hall. Whether the commander was glad or downcast, he wanted no company but Siyavash. With Jahn and Garsivaz and all the rest, he shared no secrets and found no gladness. But with Siyavash, day and night, his lips would part in laughter and delight. In this way they passed a whole year, holding sorrow and joy together. One day Siyavash and Piran sat down together and spoke of things great and small. Piran said to him: in this land you live as though you were only a passerby. With all the love the king bears you, he falls asleep at night with your name on his lips. Know that you are his joyful spring, his beloved and his comfort in grief. You are noble and the son of King Kavus, your head lifted to the moon by countless virtues. Your father has grown old, and you are young at heart; take care you never let the crown slip from your grasp. In both Iran and Turan you are a king, a gifted heir left behind by great rulers. Set your heart on this land and make yourself a home, one fitting for your comfort and delight. I would not see you tied by blood to anyone who bears you little love. You have no brother, no sister, no wife, like a single rose stem at the edge of a meadow. Choose a wife worthy of you, and stop putting the grief and longing for Iran before all else. After Kavus dies, Iran is yours; the crown and throne of the brave are yours as well. Behind the curtain of the king of the world three moon-faced daughters are hidden, adorned with jewels. Even if the moon had eyes, it would not lift its gaze from them. Three of them are in Garsivaz's chambers, noble on both their mother's and father's side. Descendants of Fereydun and children of the king, holding rank, crown, and throne alike. Yet it is more fitting for you to seek a jewel from the king's own household. Behind my curtain there are four young girls; you should count them as your servants. Among them Jarira is the eldest, and no beauty is her equal. There is one graceful daughter, like a shining moon, and she has wealth of her own. She wants no one who does not suit her; no face but a king's pleases her heart. Of all the beauties, Jarira should be your match, your companion in bright days. If you agree, she is a servant to you, standing before you to serve. Siyavash said to him: I am grateful. Truly, count me as more than a son to you. If she becomes the joy of my soul and body, I will want no one else from this gathering. You lay upon me a debt of gratitude that, as long as I live, I will never fully repay. Then Piran left his side and turned toward his own home. When Piran left Siyavash's presence, he hurried swiftly to Golshahr. He told her: Prepare Jarira for her wedding, to be honored in the glory of King Siyavash. How could we not be happy today, when the descendant of Qobad becomes our son-in-law? Golshahr brought her daughter and placed a crown upon her head. With silk brocade, gold coins, pearls, and money, with perfume and color and every splendor great and small. She adorned her like joyous spring and sent her that night to the king. She joined her to the new king and seated her on the throne like a new moon. No one could count the treasure of rubies and the jewel-inlaid crown she brought. When Siyavash saw Jarira's face, he was pleased; he smiled and chose to rejoice. Day and night he lived happily with her, and no thought of Kavus or Zal ever crossed his mind. For a while longer the wheel of time turned on, and Siyavash's goodness only raised his standing. In Afrasiyab's eyes, his honor, rank, and dignity grew greater with each passing moment. One day Piran, choosing the right time, said to Siyavash: 'O renowned one, you know that the lord of Turan's army lifts his crown above the highest heavens. Night and day, you are the light of his soul, his heart, his mind, his strength and vigor. If you become tied to him by blood, your standing will rise higher with every moment. His hope in you will grow firm, that you mean to stay loyally at his side. Though my own daughter is yours, my concern is only for your good, in matters great and small. Farangis is the finest of his beauties; you will find no such hair and face in all the world. In height she stands taller than a slender cypress; on her head, dark musky hair like a crown. Her arts and wisdom pass all measure, and reason itself waits upon her like a servant. It would be fitting if you asked Afrasiyab for her; where in Kashmir or Kabul is there an idol like her? The noble king would become your kin, and your glory and throne would shine bright. If you command, I will speak to him, and win you honor and standing before him.' Siyavash looked at Piran and said: 'God's decree should not be hidden. If this is the will of heaven, I have no power to resist the turning sky. If I am never to reach Iran, if I am never to see Kavus's face again, nor Zal, who raised me, nor mighty Rostam, who is my bright springtime, nor Bahram, nor Zangeh of Shavaran, nor those other famous warriors, if I must be cut off from seeing their faces, then I must make my home here in Turan. Be a father to me and arrange this marriage; but speak of this to no one, keep it secret. If fortune wishes me well, perhaps it will open the way to a bond with the king.' He spoke, his lashes wet with tears, and a cold sigh broke from within him. Piran said to him: 'A wise man does not wage war against fate. You cannot escape the turning heavens, from which come peace, strife, and love alike. If you had loved ones in Iran, you have entrusted them to God and left them behind. Your seat and your place are now here; the throne of Iran too lies within your reach.' He said this and rose from before him, once he understood the whole of his mind. Joyfully he went to the king's court; he dismounted, and they opened the way for him. Piran stood before the king for a while, and the good-hearted commander said to him: Why do you keep standing at my side like this? What do you want in this world? What is on your mind? My army and my treasury are yours. My gain, great or small, depends on you. Anyone held in my prison, in my chains, to release him would be to grieve and wound me. Yet for your sake the man was freed from my anger and my bonds, and my old grudge was scattered like the wind. Whether much or little, just ask: a sword, my love, a throne, a crown. The wise man answered him again: may the world never be without need of you. I have wealth, treasure, and an army; by your fortune I have sword, crown, and throne as well. But for Siyavash I carry a long message; let me whisper it privately in the commander's ear. He told me: say to the king of the Turks that I have become glad at heart and seek honor here. You raised me in your arms like a father; your good fortune has borne nothing but joy. Now settle me into a household too; in good and bad alike I still need you. Behind your curtains there is a daughter fit for my hall and my throne. Her mother calls her Farangis; I would be happy if I were made worthy of her. Afrasiyab's spirit grew troubled, and he spoke with eyes brimming with tears: I have told this tale before, but you did not agree with what I said. A wise man once said to me, one of keen judgment and deep knowledge: You who nurse the cub of a lion, why toil so, when you cannot keep your own life safe? And another thing, in the presence of the champions and the wise astrologers, they read the reckoning of the stars before my father, casting it door to door: that from these two bloodlines a single king would arise and take the world into his arms. In Turan no land or living thing would remain; out of vengeance he would strike my crown down first. Now I believe what that man said, for who knows what the turning heavens hide? Why should I plant with my own hand a tree whose fruit is poison and whose leaves are bitter as gall? From the seed of Kavus and Afrasiyab it will be like blazing fire or a surging wave. I do not know whether it will lean toward Turan in love, or turn its pure face toward Iran. Why taste poison on a mere guess? One should not foolishly kiss the breath of a snake. Piran said to him: O king, do not let your heart grieve over this matter. Anyone of the line of Siyavash will be wise, alert, and calm. Do not believe the astrologer at all; take reason as your guide and set your heart on Siyavash. From these two noble bloodlines will rise one famous man who lifts his head to the shining sun. He will be king over both Iran and Turan, and the two lands will rest from war. And if the heavens keep this destiny hidden, still the love and care around him will only grow. What is meant to happen will surely happen; no caution can add to it or take from it. See that this is a blessed matter; whatever you ask of fate, the answer is favorable. From the seed of Fereydun and Kay Qobad no brighter line than this will ever come. Then the king said to Piran: your counsel never turns to harm. I have spoken by your command and judgment; go and do all that must be done, and do it well. Piran bowed low and paid his respects, offered many blessings, and turned back. He hurried at once to Siyavash and recounted to him all that had passed. That night they sat together with glad hearts and washed their souls of sorrow with wine. When the sun lifted its head from the turning sky like a golden shield, Piran the commander girded his waist and mounted a swift steed. He set his face toward the palace of Siyavash, praising his glory again and again. He said to him: today prepare everything for the wedding with the king's daughter. If you give the order, I who am fit for the task will gird myself to see it done. Siyavash's heart was full of modesty; before Piran his cheeks were flushed with shyness. He said to him: go and arrange whatever is needed; you know I keep no secret from you. When Piran heard this he went home and bent his heart and soul at once to the work. In the storeroom of uncut cloth Piran handed the key to Golshahr, who was the mistress of the hero's household, a praised woman of a bright spirit. From the treasury, all that was renowned: a thousand choice pieces of Chinese brocade, trays of emerald and cups of turquoise, filled with pods of musk and raw aloewood, two crowns set with royal jewels, two bracelets, a torque, and two earrings, sixty camel loads of carpets and coverings, three sets of garments of woven gold, every one worked red with gold and woven over with jewels of many kinds, thirty camel loads of silver and gold trays, and of Persian robes, a golden throne and four chairs, three golden slippers inlaid with emerald, three hundred servants in golden caps, and a hundred well-wishers among close kin, one hundred and twenty attendants, each holding a golden cup in hand. A hundred trays of musk and a hundred of saffron they handed over, all of it, to the servants. In gilded litters and rich brocade, the crowds set out, group after group, with all the gifts. The lady brought, to scatter as an offering, thirty thousand gold coins along with her. They carried the treasures to Farangis, and their tongues were full of blessings too. On the other side, Piran and Afrasiyab were all in a hurry for Siyavash's sake. For a whole week neither bird nor fish could sleep; not one head found rest in hiding. The land became a garden from end to end, with joy and the sound of musicians. They set down witnesses for the marriage bond, once the covenant and pledge were sealed. Piran sent a message swift as smoke; he told Golshahr to tell Farangis at once that this very night she should go to Siyavash's palace, going wise, alert, and quiet. When the lady heard his message, she turned her face toward Farangis. Golshahr kissed the ground and said: the sun has now been wed to Venus. This very night you must go to the king, and adorn his throne with your moonlike face. Farangis came, like a new moon, to the side of that crowned new king. Another week passed in these preparations; the commander arranged a great many things. Arabian horses and sheep, and also armor, helmets, swords, and lassos, gold coins and sacks of silver, garments, and everything great and small. And from this borderland to the China Sea they listed the cities and the lands, a domain a hundred leagues in length, its breadth beyond all measuring. They wrote a charter on fine silk, granting the whole kingdom in the custom of the ancient kings. To Siyavash's house the king sent a golden throne and a golden crown. After that he set out a feasting ground; whoever came, from near or far, found wine, laden tables, and cooks; he ate, and however much he wished, he carried some away and went to his own home, glad to be his own guest for a whole week. He threw open the closed prisons; fortune was glad of him, and he was glad as well. On the eighth day Siyavash came at dawn, together with Piran, to the king. They both offered him praise: O great one, O sovereign of the earth, may your days last forever in joy, and may your enemy's back be bent low. From that place they returned in gladness, and remembered the Creator many times. And so for another year the turning sky went on watchfully, in justice and in love. A messenger came from the king, a man of good will, to Siyavash. He said: the sovereign asks after you and speaks these words, noble lord: Perhaps you have grown weary of me, and tired of settling in one place. I have given you all the land from here to China. Travel it and look upon it. In whatever city gives you rest and peace of mind, may all your wishes come true. Live in joy, stay in comfort, and never for a moment turn your heart from happiness. Siyavash grew glad at these words. He sounded the pipes and drums and loaded his gear. Weapons, troops, signet ring, and crown, all were carried along the road with him. They prepared many covered litters and adorned them with fine curtains for the women. He seated Farangis in a litter, loaded the baggage, and set the army marching. Brave Piran did not part from him; he loaded the gear and led the troops away. They set off joyfully toward Khotan, and all the notables gathered there. For commander Piran was from that city, a place untouched by any evil suspicion. The king stayed a month as his guest; such was the pact he had in mind. Not a day did the king rest from feasting: sometimes by the river, sometimes at the hunting ground. At the month's end the drums rang out, just when the rooster's cry rises at dawn. He came toward his own kingdom, the army behind him and Piran in front. Word reached that borderland; its great ones came out to meet the king of kings. Their hearts rose up in gladness, and a whole world was decked out in ceremony. Such a cheer rose from that kingdom, you would think earth had risen level with the sky. So much music and the wail of trumpets, you would think the heart itself would leap from its place. They reached a place that was thriving, a lovely spot of blessed foundation. On one side the sea, on the other the mountains, and across it game gathered in herds. Many trees and running water; an old man's heart grew young there. Siyavash opened his words to Piran: what a blessed land and soil this is! Here I will build a fine home, a place to be my guide to joy. I will raise a spacious city and fill it with gardens and palaces. I will lift a throne room high as the moon, one worthy of the crown and the seat of power. Piran said to him: fair-minded one, act on whatever your thoughts propose. When the king commands, just as he wished, I will raise a place reaching up to the moon. I want no homeland or treasure of my own; both my days and this soil are only a loan I hold from you. Let me build a broad city here, filled with many halls and palaces. Siyavash said to him: Fortunate one, you make the great tree bear its fruit. All my wealth and good come from you; wherever I look, I see your labor first. I will build a city in this place that will leave every heart in the gathering amazed. When they had returned from that pleasant land, Siyavash sat lost in secret thought. The prince asked the astrologers: If I raise a dwelling here, will my glory and fortune stay in good order, or will the outcome be one of war and strife? With one voice they told the chosen prince: this foundation is not a blessed one. He grew angry at the astrologers, yet his heart filled with pain and his eyes with tears. For they had told him long before that when the turning sky goes about its work, and when your fortune at last comes round, destiny will teach you only bitter things. He held the reins of his swift horse loosely, while warm tears kept spilling from his eyes. Piran said to him: My prince, what has happened, that you have grown so full of grief? He answered: The lofty wheel of heaven has filled my heart with pain and my soul with sorrow. For however much wealth I gather, both treasure and a crown adorned with jewels, in the end it all falls to the enemy, and death, that evil, comes at last upon the body. Where are those sages and wise men, and those who spent their lives in patient toil? Where is the crowned head of the kings of kings, where are those brave and cherished nobles? Where are those idol-fair ones, full of grace and modesty, with lovely speech and gentle voices? Where is the one whose lair was in the mountains, fled from comfort, from desire, and from renown? When the world is emptied of the righteous, do not tell yourself tales of staying here forever. We are of dust, and to dust we must return; everywhere there is fear, worry, and dread. You will go, and the world will remain a long while; no one plainly knows its secret. The world from end to end is a lesson and wisdom; why then is all my share of it heedlessness? When your years reach sixty-six, seek a way out; turn your face from excess and from toil. You clutched at the world for more and more, while many companions have passed you by. Since the world has been emptied of those famous ones, why should you set on your head the crown of greed? If you do not agree with these words, go once and read the ancient book. For through those men the whole world was flourishing, back in the days when justice ruled the world. Hear from me the tale of the fortress of Gang, and be one who agrees with this story. For there is no place in the world like the fortress of Gang, no land so pleasing to the heart. Siavash raised it up, and endured much hardship in building it. A month's journey beyond the sea of China, in a place that then had no name at all. Once you cross the sea, a desert appears; you will see a wide, waterless plain. Pass through it, and you find a thriving city, one of many such cities to be found there. Beyond that you see a lofty mountain, its height beyond all measure and reckoning. The fortress of Gang lies within this mountain, so learn this, that knowledge may do you no harm. The mountain runs a hundred leagues around, and the eye grows weary gazing at its peak. From whatever side you approach, there is no road; all around it is one unbroken wall. On this mountain you find a narrow pass of two leagues, walled in by stone on either side. Along these leagues, if only five men stood guard on the road to do the work, a hundred thousand armored horsemen in mail could not force their way past them. Cross this and you see a spacious city, all rose gardens, orchards, halls, and palaces. The whole city is baths, rivers, and streams; in every quarter, fire, color, and fragrance. The mountains full of game, gazelles on the plain; once you see this city you cannot leave it. You will find pheasants, peacocks, and mountain partridges when you have passed the hills. Its heat is not scorching, its cold not biting; it is all a place of joy, ease, and plenty. In that city you will see no one sick; it is nothing less than a garden of paradise. All its waters are clear and sweet to taste; its land is forever like the spring. Its length and breadth are thirty times thirty, if you measure it in Persian leagues. The mountain rises a league and a half, so tall that a man grows exhausted climbing it. And beyond it a plain comes into view, more beautiful than any place ever seen. All rose gardens, orchards, and grand halls, halls whose towers reach up to Saturn. The son of Kavus went and saw that place, and chose it for himself over all of Iran. He made his own name renowned there, and built one more great wall besides. It was of stone and plaster and some marble, and of a substance whose name we do not know. Its height is more than two hundred cubits, and its breadth is thirty-five. So that anyone who does not see it with their own eyes might grow angry at the one who tells of it. No catapult stone nor arrow can reach it; you simply have to see it for yourself. From the peak, two leagues down to the ground, the earth all around it is a deep pit. The eye cannot reach the mountain's summit, and a man grows exhausted just from the climb. Praise to the One who created all this, who made both the seen and the hidden. He needed no companion and no teacher; every hard task is easy for Him. Call none but Him the Creator of the world; know none but Him in the seen and the unseen. We give our blessing to His Prophet, and to each of his companions the same. The grace of the giver of good was my helper; wisdom and a wakeful fortune were with me. In this way they built a city, and raised its heights up to the Pleiades. Now let us set to work on this too, and adorn it with many decorations. Why fix your heart on this fleeting inn of a world? Why reach for toil, why boast of treasure? For someone else enjoys the fruit of your labor; why should the world seeker nurture an enemy? When a place is made cheerful and adorned, wealth appears from every side. I will not stay here for long; another person will sit in this place. Neither I will be happy, nor my child, nor will anyone grow rich through my line. My life will not be long; I will be done with palace and hall. My throne will become Afrasiab's seat; death will hasten upon me though I am guiltless. Such is the will of the lofty heavens: sometimes it makes you glad, sometimes wretched. Piran said to him: O noble one, do not vainly let your thoughts run so long. For Afrasiab is your shield against calamity, and the royal ring is on your finger. As long as there is life in my body, I too will strive not to break my pledge to you. I will not let even a breeze pass over you, nor a single hair be counted against you by the wind. Siavash said to him: O man of good name, I wish for you nothing but good repute. You hold to this pledge and your intention is honest, but the heavens have decreed otherwise. All my secret is laid open to you: may you be clear of heart and in good health. I have knowledge from God's grace, and I am aware of the secrets of the high heavens. I will tell you truly what will come to pass, beginning with the hall and the palace. So that, when you see the world unfold, you will not ask why this was hidden from Siavash. You, brave and keen minded Piran, open your ears wide to these words. Not much time will pass before, at the hand of the vigilant king, I will be slain in misery, though innocent, and someone else will grace this crown and throne. Through the words of an enemy and through bad luck, this evil falls on my head though I am innocent. Because of a killing, life will turn grim; Iran and Turan will clash and fall into turmoil. The whole earth will fill with suffering, and two lands will be filled with swords and hatred. You will see many banners, red and yellow, black and purple, from both Iran and Turan. So much looting and carrying off of wealth, and the scattering of treasures once so finely arranged. How many lands the hooves of horses will trample, until their streams run bitter and salt. A cry will rise from Iran and Turan; a whole world will boil over from my blood. The Lord of the world wrote it thus upon the heavens; by his command, whatever is sown will yield its fruit. The commander of the Turks will come to regret his own deeds and his own words. But regret will bring him no help by then, when smoke rises from a once flourishing homeland. So come, let us eat and give in joy; when the time comes to pass on, we will pass. When Piran heard this and thought it over, his heart filled with pain at Siavash's words. He said to himself: if he speaks the truth in this, then the evil comes back upon me from my own hand. It was I who brought him to the land of Turan; I scattered the seeds of hatred across the world. I counted all the king's warnings as empty wind, though he spoke to me of this early on. Then he said to himself, with affection in his heart: from the turning and the secret of the wheeling sky, what can he know? Who has unveiled such secrets to him? Surely the memory of Iran came back to him. The thought of Kavus and the imperial throne, and of his good old days, returned to his mind. He satisfied his heart with that explanation; he did not press for the wise man's true meaning. All along the road they talked like this, his heart full of searching over what was to come. When they climbed down from their horses' backs, they fell silent all at once, done with such talk. They set out a golden table, and called for wine, music, and singers. For a week they were merry like this, and remembered the kings of the world. On the eighth day a letter came from the king to the commander of Turan's army. It said: from there, march on to the Sea of China, and then cross over into the land of Makran. Keep moving like this to the border of India, and from there cross to the Sea of Sind. Demand the tribute of every land, one and all, and spread your army out to the borders of the Khazars. A clamor rose from the commander's court; the earth trembled with the beating of drums. From every side the troops gathered, and became one battle-hungry army. Much wealth was brought to Siavash: gold coins and finely adorned horses. At the time of farewell he stayed behind a moment, then obeyed the order, set out, and led his army on. A swift courier came from Afrasiab, arriving like fire at the hour of sleep. It carried a sealed letter to Siyavash, written like the turning of the great sky. It said: since you left I have not been half glad; not for one moment am I free of worry. Still, to honor your own wish, I have searched all Turan for a fitting place for you. If where you are now is pleasant and bright, and your heart is content just as it should be, then live in joy and stay in goodness; may you be happy, and your enemies drowned in grief. Return to that kingdom, and grind the heads of your ill-wishers into the dust. Siyavash gathered his troops and set off swiftly toward the place the commander had named. He loaded a hundred camels with treasure and coin, and forty of them entirely with gold dinars. A thousand red-haired Bactrian camels carried the baggage, all rich with color and fragrance. Chosen riders from Iran and Turan, ten thousand swordsmen, marched along. At the head of the army went the wealth: litters and lovely maidens beautifully arrayed, with ruby and royal gems, with collars, crowns, and earrings, with musk and camphor, aloewood and perfume, with brocade and thrones of silk, from Egypt, China, and Persia, thirty camel-loads traveled with him. When he reached that plain he stretched out his hand to build; he laid out a site two leagues in length and breadth. With halls, a broad square, and a lofty palace, with gardens and a splendid rose-bower, he raised a city like paradise, and across the meadow he planted roses, hyacinths, and tulips. On the palace walls he painted many scenes: kings, feasting, and battle. He painted the image of King Kavus, crowned, with his armlet, his mace, and his throne. Below his throne, mighty Rostam, and Zal and Gudarz and all that company. On the other side, Afrasiab and his army, along with Piran and the vengeful Garsivaz. In every corner he built a dome, its head raised up into the clouds. Singers and musicians sat there, the leaders of leaders reaching the stars. They named it Siyavashgerd, and the whole region rejoiced in that fine city. When Piran returned from India and China, word of that city and its praise reached him. It was famed through Turan that the hero Siyavash, favored by his star, had made its founding a lucky day. With its halls and palace, its gardens and orchards, its mountains, valleys, rivers, and plains, he grew eager to go and see what the prince had made in that renowned place. Whoever was skilled at any craft was welcome and fit to live in that borderland. A thousand talented, valiant men he took with him when the time to set out came. When he drew near that place, Siavash rode out with his army to greet him. When Piran reached Siavash, he dismounted the moment he saw him from afar. Siavash came down from his blue-gray horse and held him in a tight embrace. The two of them toured that fine city, speaking of every kind of art and skill. The gardens, the plaza, the palace, wide, splendid buildings everywhere he looked. Commander Piran rode from side to side, showering Siavash with praise. He said to him: if you did not carry the royal glory and majesty along with your wisdom, how could you have founded such a place, how could a place like this have risen up? May this monument last until the Day of Resurrection, among brave and lordly men. May son after son of your line stay happy, ruling the world, victorious, of blessed stock. When he had seen a good part of the joyful city, he came to Siavash's hall and garden. He turned toward Farangis's palace, glad, triumphant, seeking the crown. The king's daughter came out to greet him, asked after him, and scattered gold coins. When he sat on the throne and saw that place, he found it a lovely paradise. He offered further praise for it, and gave thanks to the Maker of the world. After that they set to feasting: wine, laden tables, musicians, and cupbearers. For a whole week they kept the wine flowing, sometimes cheerful and glad, sometimes drunk. On the eighth day he brought out gifts, presents worthy of such a city. Rubies and royal jewels, gold coins and a crown set with gems, silk brocade and horses with leopard-skin saddles, golden bridles, and arrows of poplar wood. For Farangis, a diadem and earrings, bracelets too, and a jeweled necklace. He gave all this and left for Khotan, taking happy counsel with his company. When he came home in joy to his hall, he went straight into his private chambers. He said to Golshahr: whoever has not seen this joyful paradise cannot know what Rezvan planted in heaven. Like the sun, on the throne of the blessed angel he sits, dignified, full of glory and wisdom. For your pleasure, cover a little ground; go and see Siavash's city. Its lord is finer even than the city itself; you would call him the shining light of the East. And from there he went on toward Afrasiab, moving swift as a boat upon the water. He came and reported all he had done, and the tribute of the land he had brought back. He laid it all before the king, one by one, and gave him news of the whole country. That by the king's justice the land had prospered, from the sea of China to the sea of Rome. Then he came to the matter of Siyavash, and recalled everything he had seen. The king asked about Siyavash's affairs, and about that city, that land, and that place. Piran told him: it is a joyful paradise; nowhere else can you see such spring. It is as if an angel brought the design, so beautifully was that land and region painted. Truly they know nothing higher than that city, not even the sun, for all its proud radiance. I saw a city on this earth the like of which no one has seen in Turan or China. With so many gardens, halls, and running streams, you would say wisdom had merged with the soul. When I saw Farangis's palace from afar, it was like a treasure of jewels set in a festive field. With such splendor and grace, your son-in-law lives happily, his heart's desire fulfilled by such beauty. One may complain of a world let loose, but you have no cause to complain of the world. Even if an angel came down from heaven, it would not match his glory, throne, and wisdom. And more: the two lands, from war and turmoil, have found rest, now that the noble one came to his senses. May the hearts of the wise and the counsel of sages remain with us like this forever. The king was gladdened by his words, for his flourishing daughter had borne fruit. He opened this tale to Garsivaz, recalling all of Piran's words. Then he spoke quietly to Garsivaz, unveiling all that had been hidden. He told him: go to where Siyavash lives, and see for yourself what kind of place it is. Siyavash has given his heart to the land of Turan, and no longer thinks of Iran at all. It is as if he has bid farewell to the throne and crown, and to Gudarz, Bahram, and King Kavus. With such delight, upon a thornland he is building homes, fields, and a whole city. For Farangis he has raised lofty palaces, and holds her in high honor. When you see it all in its beauty, describe it; look upon his face with a great man's eye. When there is hunting and wine, plain and mountain, and men of Iran sit before you, and when I come to mind, then, once you have feasted in joy, sit down together. Prepare a lavish gift for him: gold coins, horses, and a golden belt, along with jewels, a throne, brocade of China, an armband, a mace, a sword, and a signet ring, carpets and fragrances and colored cloth: see what you can take from my treasury. Bring gifts to Farangis as well, and carry with you words full of praise. If the host welcomes you kindly, stay two weeks in that pleasant city.

The famous Garsivaz looked over his troops: a thousand chosen Turkish riders. He gathered his renowned army and set out, joyful, toward the brave Siyavash. When Siyavash heard, he hurried down the road, riding out with his army to welcome him. They embraced one another, and Siyavash asked after the king's health. From there they went to the palace, and Siyavash arranged quarters for the army. Next morning, early, Garsivaz came bringing robes of honor sent by the king. Siyavash looked at the king's gift and bloomed like a rose in spring. He mounted his fast striding steed, and the Iranian riders gathered around. He showed himself through every street and quarter of the city, then turned toward the palace. Just then a rider came to Siyavash, swift as the wind, bringing good news: That from the daughter of the army's commander a child had been born, resembling the king. They named him Farrokh Forud; when Piran heard, he came in the dark of night. He said to me at once, along with another rider: 'Go now, carry the good news to the king.' The mother of that precious child, Jarira, the noblest of highborn ladies, commanded all her servants to dye that little one's hands with saffron. They placed on the letter's back: 'Carry this to the willful Siyavash.' Tell him: though I have grown old, the pure God has made me glad. Siyavash said to him: throughout your years of lordship, may this lineage never run dry. He gave the messenger so much silver that the bearer was worn out carrying it. They went gladly to Farangis's palace; she beheld that greatness of blessed descent. Several attendants in golden crowns, and Farangis with her crown in the hall of honor. She came down from her throne and offered him gifts, and asked after the city and the king. But Garsivaz's heart and mind boiled with envy; his manner and thoughts changed for the worse. He said within himself: if a year passes like this, Siyavash will count no one as anyone at all. He has kingship, crown, and throne; he has treasure, wisdom, and an army too. He did not reveal what lay hidden in his heart; he stayed writhing inside, his face gone pale. He said to him: may you enjoy the fruit of your toil, your heart glad all year with your treasure. In the golden palace they set two thrones, and sat down, glad of heart and fortunate. The harp player and the cupbearer came before the jewel adorned throne. With the lament of harp and lute and song, they gave their hearts over to joy. When the shining sun revealed its secret and showed its face from above over every place, Siyavash left the palace for the field and rode around it, playing at his sport. When Garsivaz came, he threw the ball, and the commander turned to chase it. When he caught the ball with the stroke of his mallet, his opponent was left biting the dust of the field. The ball vanished from his mallet's blow; you would think the sky itself had drawn it up. He ordered golden thrones set out, and javelins placed for the contest on the field. The two lords sat upon the golden thrones to see whose skill would shine the brighter. Garsivaz said to him: O king, so gifted, a living memory of the ancient kings, your skill has surpassed even your noble birth; it would be fitting to show the Turks your art. With the point of the spear, with bow and arrow, darken the ground for a while with your feats. Siyavash set his hand to the task, rose from the throne, and mounted the saddle. They bound five coats of mail together, for even one alone would strain a body. They set them on the line of the field, and the army watched from every side. Siyavash took up a royal spear that he kept as a keepsake from his father, the one he had wielded in the war of Mazandaran, and left the lion behind in the hunt. He rode to the arena, spear in hand, and wheeled his reins like a maddened elephant. He struck with the spear and lifted the armor up; not a link or knot of the mail held together. He raised the spear straight up from the ground and flung the armor to whatever spot he chose. The horsemen of Garsivaz, set as a trap, came forward with their long spears. They circled the armor again and again, yet could not lift a single link off the field. Siyavash called for four Gilan shields, two of wood and two of tempered iron. He asked for a bow with arrows of white poplar, set six in the center and bound three tight. He drew one in the bow and pressed his thigh, while a great host watched his every move. The renowned man's arrowhead pierced clean through those four shields of wood and iron. He shot two more arrows in the same way, and young and old alike cheered his praise. Of those ten, not one failed to pass through, and everyone called out the name of God over him. Garsivaz said to him: O king, in Iran or Turan you have no equal. Come, let you and I go to the field and gallop, the two of us, before the army. Let us both seize the other's belt and grapple like two furious warriors at war. Among the Turks I have no match; you will find no horse among the horses like mine. No one on the field is your equal, no one who could match you in stature or skill. If I were to lift you from your saddle and suddenly throw you to the ground, know then that I am the braver of us two, better than you in horsemanship and manhood. But if you throw me to the ground, I will not turn to any place seeking revenge. Siyavash said to him: Don't even say such a thing, for you are the greater man, a lion, a fierce fighter. Your very horse, prince, is my own horse; your crown is my blazing fire of glory. Choose someone from the Turks other than yourself, one who will wrestle with me not out of malice. Garsivaz said to him: O seeker of fame, no trace of harm comes from a friendly game. Siyavash said: This is not wise. There is no place for a brother to fight a brother. A contest between two men means war and the battlefield, the heart full of anger though the face may smile. In this world you are a brother to the king; you would trample the very moon beneath your hooves. I will do whatever you say, at your command; I will not break your judgment or your pact. Call one of your warriors, a battle-lion, and mount him on this swift-running steed. If your wish is that I fight, then the heads of the proud will lie beneath my dust. Garsivaz, the fame-seeker, laughed; it seems his words pleased him. He said to his comrades: O proud men, who among you wants to become renowned in the world? Who will bring battle to Siyavash and lay the heads of the proud beneath the dust? They stood listening, lips knotted shut; then Gorui Zereh came forward with his answer. He said: I am the one fit for this task, if there is no one else to fight him. At the words of Gorui Zereh, Siyavash's face wrinkled and knotted with anger. Garsivaz said to him: O famous one, in all the Turkish army this man has no equal. Siyavash said to him: I will let him pass; fighting the brave has become beneath me. Two champions should be readied from among them and sent to me for combat on the field. There was one renowned man named Damur, who had no equal among the Turks in strength. He came, girded for the task, before the world-seeker, the king of the Kayanids. Siyavash turned toward the fight; Damur and Gorui advanced, writhing with eagerness. He drove his fingers into Gorui Zereh's belt and clenched them into a fist. He lifted him from the saddle and flung him onto the field; he had no need of mace or lasso. After that he turned on Damur and seized his chest and neck by force. He lifted him so effortlessly from his saddle that the whole army was left in wonder. He greeted Garsivaz so warmly that you'd think no one could match his cleverness. He dismounted, opened his arms wide, and sat laughing on the golden throne. Garsivaz was disturbed by his manner; his heart filled with grief, his face with color. From that golden throne they went to the hall, as if rising to the very peak of Saturn. For a whole week they sat with flute and harp, with wine, delight, singers, and song. On the eighth day the nobles and proud Garsivaz prepared to leave. Siyavash wrote a letter to the king, full of courtesy, kind wishes, and inquiries. Then he gave Garsivaz many gifts, and they left that flourishing city in good cheer. Along the road they talked with one another about that gifted king and his land. The spiteful Garsivaz said: from Iran nothing but trouble has come our way. The king summoned a single man from Iran who has left us drenched in the sweat of shame. Two raging lions like Damur and Gorui, warriors always ready for battle, have been made this wretched, idle, and humbled by the foul grip of one lone rider. In the end, if this goes on, I see neither head nor tail to his affair. So it went: nothing but dark water flowed in that stream all the way to Afrasiab's court. When they reached the commander of the Turanian army, the king asked about everything. Garsivaz spoke at length and handed over the letter; the king read it, laughed, and was pleased. The vengeful Garsivaz watched the king's face brighten with joy. He left, his heart heavy with malice and pain, at the hour the sun turned to deep blue. All night he writhed until pure dawn, when night tore open its pitch-black robe. The man of grudges lifted his head from sleep and came again to Afrasiab. They cleared the room of strangers, sat down, and weighed every plan. Garsivaz said to him: O king, Siyavash follows a different creed and purpose now. An envoy has come from King Kavus, secretly visiting him time and again. Messages reach him from Rome and China too; over his cup he keeps thinking of Kavus. A great army has gathered around him. For a moment the king's soul recoiled at this. If Tur's heart had not turned bitter, he would never have wronged Iraj in this world. The two realms are like fire and water, each rushing to overtake the other. You want, foolishly, to make them mates; you are trying to trap the wind in secret. If I had hidden this danger from you, my name in the world would be disgraced. The king's heart grew heavy over that matter, filled with grief at the injuries of fate. He said: Out of your deep affection for me, your heart stirred and guided you here. For three days let us think this matter through and find better words for it. When reason has settled this plan, I will tell you what you must seek in it. On the fourth day Garsivaz came to the gate, crown on his head, belt fastened tight. The commander of the Turks called him near and spoke at length about Siyavash's affair. He said: You who carry on the line of Pashang, what do I hold in this world dearer than you? I must open every secret to you; look deeply and see what comes to your mind. Ever since that evil dream saddened my heart, it has gnawed a little at my reason. I never girded myself for war against Siyavash, nor did any harm ever come to us from him. When he abandoned his noble father's throne, my wisdom became the warp and he the weft of my cloth. Not for a moment did he turn from my command, once he had received such kindness from me. I handed over to him my land and my treasure, giving no thought to my own grief and toil. I even bound us by blood and marriage, and cleared my heart of hatred toward Iran. I turned away from war and from my own son, and entrusted him to Siyavash like my own precious eyes. After all these kindnesses and every hardship, sacrificing land, crown, and treasure, if now I plot evil against him, the whole world will raise an outcry. I have no pretext to harm him; if even a small wrong reaches him from me, the great ones will open their tongues against me, and I will become a byword throughout the world. It would please neither the Creator of the world nor the great ones across the earth. Among beasts none has sharper teeth than the lion, whose heart holds no fear of the sword; yet if a cub, grieved by its father, takes refuge in the lion's meadow from harm, would it be right for evil to come to it from that shelter? Would the sun and moon accept such a judge? I see no way but to summon him to my court and from here send him back to his father. Whether he seeks the throne or the ring of kingship, let him take his quarrels away from this land and soil. Garsivaz said to him: O king, do not treat so precious a matter lightly. If he leaves here for Iran, our land and homeland will be utterly ruined. Whenever a stranger has become your intimate and learned all your secrets, great and small, and you then seek to grow distant from him again, it only leads to madness and disaster. You will have raised up an enemy, like scattering salt upon a burned wound. He offered this parable as guidance: the wind that blows out of a house, you cannot block its path, and even if you let it pass, the times themselves will not let it pass. Siyavash knows your every move, from your deeds and from your words alike. From him you will get nothing but pain and grief: the scattering of your family, your name, and your treasure. Don't you know that whoever raises a leopard receives from his own nursling only wounds and claws? When Afrasiyab weighed these words again, he said Garsivaz had it exactly right. He grew sorry for his own judgment and conduct, feeling he had struck a bad bargain. He answered thus: in this matter I see no good beginning to the trouble, and no end. Let us wait and see how the turning heavens will reveal their face in this affair. In every task, patience is better than haste: wait until the sun climbs high. Let me see what the world-ruler's will is, toward whom the bright candle of the turning sky is turning its face. And if I summon him back to my court, I will probe his words to learn what secret he keeps. I myself will surely be his watcher; I will observe what the times bring. When some crookedness shows plainly in him, so that scheming leaves the heart no room for mercy, then no one should be blamed: the only fit reward for evil is evil itself. So spoke the vengeful Garsivaz: O clear-sighted, truth-telling king, Siyavash, with all his gear and glory and might, with that god-given stature, that sword and that mace, will come to your court with an army, and the sun and moon will go dark over you. Siyavash is not the man the king once saw; he now lifts his crown to the very sky. You would not recognize Farangis either; you would think she has grown independent of the whole world. Your whole army will go over to him; you will be the flock if you can raise no breath against him. An army that sees a king like him, with such generosity, such judgment, and that moon-bright face, how can you call to him: be my servant here, live humbled and filled with love for me? No one has ever seen a lion mate with an elephant, nor blazing fire above and water below. If someone wraps a lion cub, still unweaned, in the finest silk, it returns to its true nature once it grows fierce, and does not fear a charge from even a great elephant. So Afrasiyab was caught in these words; he grew sorrowful and his brooding never stopped. He decided patience was better than haste, for the steady, weighty man wins the day. A hollow, windy head deserves no praise; a wise man put it in this parable: if the wind rushed off wildly from its place, no fruit, no forest, no feather, and no foot would remain. A frivolous man is never truly noble, even if he stands tall and handsome in body. They set off twisting, their lips full of words, their hearts full of old hatred. Time and again Garsivaz went to the king, that malicious, suspicious schemer. He mixed in every kind of color and lie, stirring up the heart of the king of the Turks. So it went on through those days, until the king's heart filled with pain and spite. One day the commander decided the moment was right, when the place was cleared of strangers. He opened up this whole story to Garsivaz, recalling much about the deeds of Siyavash. He said: you must go there yourself, but do not stay with him too long. You will ask and say: from that festival, I no longer wish to see anyone. My heart stirs with love for you; rise, and come here together with Farangis. We long to see you and that skillful, watchful soul of yours. There is game to hunt on these mountains of ours, and wine from cups of green stone, and milk. Let us spend a while and be happy, until the flourishing city calls you back. Be at ease and walk in joy; why should wine and cup be forbidden with me? Garsivaz set up his snare with care, his heart full of spite, his mind full of secrets. When he drew near the city of Siyavash, he chose an eloquent man from the army. He told him: go and say to Siyavash, O pure-born one, O seeker of glory, By the life and head of the king of the Turkish host, by the splendor and crown of King Kavus, do not rise from your throne for me, nor come out on the road to greet me, for you surpass me in culture and fortune, in glory, in lineage, in crown and throne. one who would empty out the seat of kings must gird himself against every wind. The messenger reached Siyavash, and kissed the ground when he saw him. When he delivered Garsivaz's message, Siyavash grew troubled but kept it hidden. He sat long, awake and lost in thought, saying: there is a secret buried in this. I do not know what Garsivaz, who claims goodwill, has said about me at that court. When Garsivaz came to that new city, Siyavash came out from his palace to the street to greet him. He asked him about the journey and the king's affairs, about the ways of the army, the throne, and the crown. He gave the message of the Turkish commander, and Siyavash was gladdened by his words. He answered thus: while I remember him, I will not turn my face from the steel sword. See, I have girded myself to go; my reins are bound with your reins. Let us stay three days in this bright, gilded garden and pass the time with wine. For the world is only a passing inn, full of pain and sorrow; woe to the one who spends that brief stay in grief. When the wise prince heard these words, the vengeful Garsivaz twisted inside with spite. He said to himself: if Siyavash travels back with me to the king's court, then with all his lion's courage and his great wisdom he will trample my schemes beneath his feet. My words will lose their power, and beside him my plots will be exposed as lies. I must devise some trick now to turn his heart toward the wrong path. For a while he stayed silent, his two eyes fixed on Siyavash's face. Pale tears spilled from his eyes; with those tears he worked his scheme. Siyavash saw his tear-streaked face, like a man wrung with grief and affection. He gently asked him: brother, what is it? If there is a sorrow, one that can be shared, tell me. If you have been made bitter by the king of the Turks, and pain has brought tears to your eyes, then I will set out on the road with you and make war on the king of Turan's army, to learn why he torments you, and why he treats you as beneath himself. And if some enemy has risen against you, one whose trouble and grief you must endure, here I am, your ally in every task; when you go to battle I will be your mainstay. But if it is at Afrasiyab's own court that your standing has been darkened for no reason, and through some liar's words someone has been given a higher place than you, the renowned Garsivaz answered him: this trouble of mine has nothing to do with the king. No enemy has brought me this pain, nor do I lack the courage or wealth to defend myself. It is my lineage that stirred these thoughts in my heart, for I remembered those true old tales. The first evil came from Tur, from whom the divine glory departed. You have heard how, with few words spoken to Iraj, he laid the very roots of hatred. And from that day down to Afrasiyab, the fire between Iran and Turan has flowed like water, unending. They never once mixed in peace; both fled from good counsel and from wisdom. The commander of the Turks is worse than his ancestors: even now the spotted ox hides within a plain hide. You do not yet truly know his wicked nature; wait until the time for his evil arrives. First take the measure of what he did to Aghrirath, who was slain by his hand for no reason at all, his own brother, of the same body and the same line; so wise and innocent, and he killed him. And after that many a noble innocent has been destroyed by his hand. In these words I speak, my worry is only for you; may your heart stay alert and your body sound. Since you came to this land, no one has suffered harm at your hands. You sought only kindness and truth, and adorned a whole world with wisdom. Now some reckless, heart splitting devil has turned him bitter against you. His heart is full of pain and hatred for you; I do not know what the Creator of the world intends. You know that I love you, and stand by you through every good and ill. Tomorrow you must not suspect that I knew of this judgment against you. Siyavash answered him: do not fret over this, for the Creator of the world is with me. The lord gave me a different hope: that he would turn my dark nights into bright days. If he held any grudge against me in his heart, he would not have raised my head above the assembly. He would not have given me a realm, a crown and throne, land and home, a child, treasure and an army. Now I will come with you to his court and make his dimmed moon shine bright. Wherever truth shines clear, the glow of a lie falls into ruin. I will show my heart to Afrasiab, brighter than the sun across the sky. Keep your own heart only glad; do not let your soul dwell on evil. Even one who steps on a dragon's tail cannot escape the will of the Creator of the world. Garsivaz said to him: dear friend, do not think him the man you once saw. And moreover, when the turning heavens grow fierce and draw a frown across their face, no wise and learned man knows a spell to lift his head free from that noose. With this knowledge, this clear mind, this cypress stature and lofty judgment, you still cannot find a way out of his affection; ill fortune is bound to come upon you. He has sold you chains and trickery, and blinded the eye of your reason with his throne. First he trapped you by making you his son in law, and you were foolishly delighted by that talk. Then he sent you away from himself and threw a feast before the nobles, so that you would grow too bold with him, and the talk of the world would fall silent. Your kinship, bond, and ties to him are no closer than those of the honored Aghriras. Yet he cut Aghriras in two at the waist with a dagger and struck fear into his army by that deed. Look now at his hidden self as if it were plain to see; know this and never feel safe from his bloodshed. Whatever thought was in my heart was born of wisdom and skilled in every craft. The times themselves bore witness to this, and to this vengeful, sharp hearted king. I laid it all out before you, point by point, and read it clear like the shining sun. You abandoned your father in Iran and built yourself a city in Turan. You gave your heart so fully to his words, and busied yourself caring for him. This was a tree you planted with your own hand, but its fruit is poison and its root is bitter. So he spoke, his lashes wet with sallow tears, his heart full of trickery, his lips breathing cold sighs. Siyavash stared at him, bewildered, two streams pouring from his eyes down his face. For he recalled a time of harm to come, when the high wheel of heaven would tear its love from him, that not much time would be left to him, and his life would end in the days of his youth. His heart filled with pain, his cheeks turned pale, his heart heavy with grief, his lips breathing cold sighs. He said to him: however I look at it, I have done nothing to deserve such punishment. In word and deed, first and last, no one ever heard anything ugly from me. When my hand reached freely into his treasury, surely he did not writhe under the burden of me. Even if trouble comes down upon my head, I will not step outside his will and command. I will go to him right now, without an army, and see just why the king is angry. Garsivaz said to him: O seeker of fame, going before him is not the right course for you. One should not walk barefoot into fire, nor feel safe upon the waves of the sea. You rush blindly toward disaster; you lull your smiling fortune off to sleep. I am surely enough as your ally; I will splash cold water on that fire. A reply to the letter must be written, laying bare all the good and the bad. If I find his mind emptied of malice, your bright days will shine again. I will send a rider to your side and light up your darkened outlook. I hope, from the Creator of the world, the One who knows the seen and the hidden, that he will return to honesty, and that crookedness and flaw will fall away from him. But if I see any twist still in his mind, I will send a camel-courier in all haste. You, as you must, get ready quickly; do not drag things out against yourself. Ride out from here to every land, to every renowned man and every chief. It is a hundred and twenty leagues from here to China, and three hundred and thirty to the land of Iran. On this side they are all your well-wishers, your devoted servants, your comforters. And on that side your father longs for you; the world is your servant and your kin. Write a long letter to each of them; be prepared and lose no time. Siyavash believed his words, and his watchful soul was lulled into trusting sleep. He told him: Whatever you propose, I will never turn from my pledge or my judgment. You be the go between; plead my case with him. Seek only what is right, and show me the way.

He called the skilled scribe before him and poured out the words that filled his mind. First he remembered the Creator and freed his soul from the debt of wisdom. Then he began to praise reason itself, and offered his devotion to the king of the Turks. 'Victorious king, blessed in your days, may time never outlast your memory.' 'You summoned me, and that made me glad, may your seat always be among the wise elders.' 'And another thing: you asked for Farangis, you adorned your heart with love and loyalty.' 'But Farangis has been ailing lately, unable to eat, unable to move.' 'She has taken to her bed and kept me at her side; I see her poised between the two worlds.' 'My heart is full of your counsel and the wish to see you, yet both our lands are full of grief and torment for you.' 'When she is a little eased of her suffering, she will devote herself to the king of the land.' 'Her sickness is my excuse and my sorrow too; secretly I am full of pain and worry for her.' When the letter was sealed and given justly, it was quickly handed to Garsivaz of base birth. The bold man asked for three swift steeds and galloped straight on, day and night alike. On the fourth day he reached the king's court, his soul full of evil, his tongue full of guilt. Afrasiab questioned him at length when he saw him worn out and driven by haste. 'Why have you come in such a rush?' asked the king. 'How did you cover so hard a road so fast?' He said, 'When the whole matter has turned dark, these times are too grim to be told lightly.' 'Siavash paid no one any regard; he did not even come out to receive me on the road.' 'He would not hear my words nor read the letter; he made me kneel there before his throne.' 'Letters keep coming to him from Iran, and his mother's affection binds her to him.' 'An army from Rome, an army from China, make the earth roar at every moment.' 'If you delay in dealing with him, afterward perhaps you will grasp only the wind.' 'And if you are slow, he will make war and seize both kingdoms by force of his valor.' 'And if he marches an army toward Iran, who will dare to stand before him seeking vengeance?' 'I have made you aware of what I have seen; after this you will regret your own doing.' When Afrasiab heard these words, the old bitterness came fresh upon him again. In his anger he gave Garsivaz no answer; his heart filled with fire, his head spun like the wind. He ordered the reed pipes to be sounded, along with cymbals, trumpets, and Indian bells. He set his face toward Siavash with his renowned, battle-hungry warriors. This was the moment when treacherous Garsivaz drew the stirrup leathers tight upon his saddle. Siavash came behind the curtain in pain, his body shaking, his face gone pale. Farangis said, 'You lion-clawed hero, what has happened that your color has changed?' He answered, 'You lovely one, my honor is lost here in the land of Turan.' 'The way Garsivaz speaks, I am left as the center of the compass, trapped in his circle.' Farangis seized her hair in her hands, and tore her rose-red cheeks with her fingernails. Those musk-scented coral lips filled with blood, her eyes brimmed with tears, her face streaked with dust. She rained her tears down over her silver breast, as two tulip cheeks split apart with weeping. She tore her hair and poured out tears, over the words and deeds of Afrasiab. She said to him, 'You proud and lofty king, what will you do now? Quickly, open the secret to me.' 'Your own father holds a heart bitter against you; from Iran he speaks not a word.' 'The road to the West would take you too long, and you cannot flee to China, for it would close in on you.' 'Whose refuge will you seek now in this world? May the Lord of sun and moon be your shelter.' 'May injustice fall on his life, month and year, wherever he plots evil against your body.' 'Garsivaz kept saying he would soon return by the road from the king's court.' On the fourth night, beside his moon-faced love, he lay at the feast amid color and fragrance. He trembled and sprang startled from sleep, letting out a cry like a maddened elephant. The lovely woman held him in her arms; she said, 'My king, what has broken your peace?' He cried out, and they lit a candle, and burned aloeswood and amber beside him. Afrasiab's daughter asked him, 'Wise king, what did you see in your dream?' Siavash said to her, 'About my dream, never open your lips before any gathering.' 'I saw in my dream, you silver cypress, that there was a boundless river of water.' 'A mountain of fire stood on the other shore, and spearmen had lined the water's edge.' 'On one side the fire swept, sharp and swift, blazing up on account of Siavash.' 'On one hand fire, on the other water, and before me stood the war-elephant and Afrasiab.' 'You saw my face turned grim and dark, as you breathed upon that fierce-burning fire.' 'When Garsivaz kindled that fire, by his kindling he burned me to ashes.' Farangis said, 'This can only mean good; look now, rest a moment and sleep.' 'An ill fate is coming to Garsivaz; he will be slain by the hand of the commander of the West.' Siavash summoned his whole army together, and lingered a while at the palace gate. He made ready and sat with dagger in hand, and sent a scouting party toward Gang. When two thirds of the dark night had passed, scouts arrived from the plain. They reported that Afrasiab, with a vast army, had appeared in the distance, racing down the road. A swift messenger came from Garsivaz, saying: 'Gird yourself and find a way to save your life.' 'My words did no good at all; from the fire I saw nothing but black smoke.' 'Consider now what must be done, and where you should send your troops.' Siavash did not know the true purpose behind this, and the message seemed honest to him. Farangis said, 'Wise king, do not think of us at all.' 'Mount a swift horse and ride; put no trust in the land of Turan.' 'I want you alive, safe and surviving. Save yourself and wait for no one.' Siavash said to her, 'My dream has come true, and my fortune has turned dark.' 'My life is nearing its end; sorrow, pain, and grief are closing in.' 'Such is the way of the lofty sky: sometimes it brings joy, sometimes misery.' 'Even if my palace reached the stars, I must still taste this world's poison.' 'Even if I lived a thousand and two hundred years, in the end no place awaits me but the dark earth.' 'No one who has much wisdom looks for daylight in the night.' 'You are five months pregnant; if something is to grow from this noble line,' 'if your tree bears a son, it will bring forth a renowned king.' 'Name that proud child Kaykhosrow, and let him comfort your grieving heart.' 'So this swift-turning dome revolves: an old house is never called new again.' 'After this, by Afrasiab's command, sleep will come to me, ill-fated as I am.' 'They will cut off my innocent head, and crown me with the blood of my own heart.' 'I will have no coffin, no grave, no shroud, and no one in the crowd will weep for me.' 'The soil of Turan will be my bed, and this old house will be the lions' feast.' 'This is how the heavens will pass over me; they will not turn kind or loving toward me.' 'From the shining sun down to the dark earth, there is no escape from the just God's decree.' 'The king's guards will drag you off in disgrace, your head and body bare, along the road.' 'Then the commander Piran will come to the gate and plead with your father to spare you.' 'He will beg for your innocent life, and take you, wretched and humbled, to his own hall.' 'And from Iran a rescuer will come, his belt girded at the Creator's command.' 'From here he will suddenly take you and your son in secret, toward the river Oxus.' They will set him on the royal throne, and bird and fish alike will obey his command. He will raise an uproar across the whole world; the age itself will boil over because of Kaykhosrow. He will bring an army out of Iran for revenge, and the entire earth will be thrown into turmoil. His blessed steed Rakhsh will trample the ground, and no one in Turan will count for anything against him. In vengeance for me, from today until the Day of Judgment, you will see nothing but the mace and the sharp sword. Harden your heart to these words of mine; empty your body of comfort and ease. When Siyavash had told his wife these sorrows, she clung to him, weeping. His face grew full of the blood of heart and eyes; he walked over toward the stable of Arab horses. He led out Behzad, black as night, who could outrun the wind itself on the day of battle. Weeping, he took the horse's head to his breast and lifted the bridle and halter from its head. In its ear he whispered a long secret: 'Stay wakeful of heart, and trust no one.' 'When Kaykhosrow comes to seek revenge, it is you who must be his mount and gear.' 'Be his steed and pound the world down, the way a viper's head is crushed with a club.' 'Cut your heart from the stable once and for all, for you will be his war horse in the reckoning.' Then he hobbled all the other horses; he blazed up like fire in dry reeds. He set out for Iran with his warriors, his face hidden by the blood of his tears. When he had ridden barely half a league, the king of the Turanian army caught up with him. He saw the troops with helmet, sword, and armor, and Siyavash himself buckled into his mail. He said to himself, 'Garsivaz spoke the truth about the sign that was kept hidden.' Fearing for his life, Siyavash thought perhaps the ill-wisher would vanish. The two sides kept eyeing each other, this at that, that at this, though before this there had been no hatred in their hearts. In their fear of Siyavash, the warrior horsemen fell still, holding their nerve and their pace. What did that wise man of great sense say? 'Do not fight your bad fortune with brute courage.' Then Siyavash spoke thus to Afrasiab: 'O gifted king of glory and honor,' 'Why have you come seeking war with an army? Why do you want to kill me, when I am innocent?' 'You fill the armies of two nations with enmity; you fill time and earth with curses.' Then the witless Garsivaz spoke, though when were his own words ever fitting? 'If you came here so innocent, why did you come to the king wearing armor?' 'This is no way to come and greet him; spear and shield are no gift for a king.' Siyavash understood that this was Garsivaz's doing, that the king's rage was stirred up in his marketplace of schemes. When Afrasiab heard Garsivaz's words, and the sun rose high in the sky, he ordered the Turks to charge, to turn this field into a slaughter drenched in blood. The Iranian force was a thousand men, all renowned masters of battle. The Iranians drew up their ranks and braced themselves to spill blood. They all turned to fight alongside Siavash; this was no time for tricks or delay. They said: they mean to cut us down for nothing; better that they wade into blood one by one. Wait, they said, and let them witness the Iranians' strength; do not count this a trifling matter. Siavash answered: this is not the way; there is no ground or purpose left for war. If the turning heavens, though I am innocent, mean to destroy me at the hands of the wicked, then now there is no strength or use in valor, for no one can fight against the Maker of the world. That day ended for them in ruin: all were slain and their cause overturned. Wounded by arrows and javelins, the prince fell headlong from behind his troops. He rolled in the dust, spear still in hand, until Garui of Zereh bound his arm. They fastened a halter around his neck and tied his two hands behind his back like stone. Blood ran down that face bright as red blossoms, a day the young man's eyes had never seen. They marched him toward the dust, Siavash surrounded, troops before him and behind. The commander of Turan's army said: drag him aside, off the road, over here. Cut his head from his body with a dagger, on barren ground where no grass ever grows. Pour out his blood on that hot earth; do not linger, and feel no fear. The whole army said to the king: what crime, my lord, did you find in him? Why kill one for whom the crown and the ivory throne would weep bitterly? A head fit to wear the crown, O wise king, should not be severed. In a time of joy, do not plant a tree whose fruit fate will turn to poison. But wicked Garsivaz stood there, senselessly siding with the murderers, so that Siavash's blood be spilled in torment, for in battle he had borne a grudge against him. Among Piran's kin was one younger in years, his brother and a noble peer, a youth named Pilsam, skilled and bright of soul. Pilsam said to the king: this branch bears the fruit of pain and grief. I heard a saying from a wise man, and reason too agreed with it: the patient heart has less to regret, and wisdom is the cure for the troubled mind. Haste and cruelty are the work of the devil; they bring regret to the soul and pain to the body. A head over which you are king, I do not think it right to cut off in a rush of anger. Keep him bound until the passing of time teaches you the truth of this wrong. When the breeze of wisdom blows across your heart, then it will be fitting to take his head. Order him imprisoned, but do not act in a fury, for fury ends in regret. Why cut off a head that is innocent, when Kavus and Rostam will seek revenge? His father is the king, Rostam his foster guardian; in the end you will suffer from these times. Warriors like Gudarz, Giv, Barzin, and Tus will strap their war drums onto the backs of elephants. And the fierce commander, the elephant bodied hero Rostam, in whose eyes whole armies count for little, and Fariborz, son of Kavus, a raging lion, whom no one has ever seen weary of battle, all of them will gird themselves for this vengeance; the plains and passes will fill with vengeful men. Then neither I nor my kin will stand our ground, nor any hero of this gathering. Surely Piran will come at dawn, and the king may hear the whole story from him too. Perhaps you will never need to do this; do not multiply enmity as long as the world lasts. Garsivaz said to him: 'Wise one, do not bind your desire to the words of youths.' 'The plain is already full of vultures feeding on Iranians; if you fear their vengeance, that is reason enough.' 'Is not the harm you have already done enough, that you keep foolishly heeding another's counsel?' 'When Siyavash raises his war cry from Rome to China, you will see the earth bristle with maces and swords.' 'You have cut off the serpent's tail and wounded its head, and now you mean to dress him in fine brocade?' 'If you grant him his life and safe conduct, I will not remain in the king's service.' 'I will flee to some corner in fear for my life, hoping my own end comes quickly.' Damur and Gorui went off, twisting with schemes, to the king of the Turks, full of flattering words. Saying: 'Do not wrestle so long with the blood of Siyavash, for calm will seem contemptible in your plans.' 'Follow the guidance of Garsivaz: prepare, and lift your enemy out of the way.' 'You set the trap and caught your foe in it; a great uproar will rise up out of Iran.' 'It is not enough merely to hold him captive; the hearts of the malicious must be broken.' 'You have already ruined an army this way, so consider well what the king's decision should be.' 'If only you had not injured him from the start, this guilt could have been washed away with water.' 'Now the best course is that he no longer exist in the world, neither in the open nor in secret.' The king answered them thus: 'I have never seen any guilt in him with my own eyes.' But according to what the astrologer said, in the end hardship will fall upon him. If I shed his blood in vengeance, a great uproar will rise up from the land of Iran. To let him go is worse than to kill him, yet killing him too is my own grief and pain. Harm has come to Turan because of me; sorrow, pain, and captivity have come to me. Even a wise man, if he is suspicious, cannot escape what heaven decrees. When Farangis heard this, she clawed her cheeks and tied a blood-stained sash around her waist. On foot she came before the king, her moon-bright cheeks stained red with blood. Full of grief and dread she went before her father, wailing and pouring dust upon her head. She said to him: gifted king, why do you want to crush me into the dust? Why have you bound your heart to deceit? From the heights you fail to see the fall below. Do not behead a king unjustly, for the judge of sun and moon will not allow it. Siyavash, who left the land of Iran, kept praising you before the world. For your sake he angered his king, giving up that crown, that throne, that glory. He came and made himself your support and shelter; what have you seen in him now that led you astray? No one who beheads kings gets to sit long with a crown upon his throne. Do not oppress an innocent person like me, for this world is a fleeting lodging, mere wind and breath. It casts one innocent man into a pit, and seats another with a crown upon the throne. In the end both lie beneath the earth, dragged by fate down into the grave. You have heard what the tyrant Zahhak the Arab suffered at the hands of brave Fereydun. And what came upon the mighty Salm and Tur from the great king Manuchehr. Now, still alive upon King Kavus's throne, are men like Zal and vengeful Rostam. The world trembles before Rostam the mighty; all of Turan is not worth a war with him. And there are men like Bahram and Zangeh of Shavaran, who fear no mace of any champion. And Giv, from dread of whom on the day of battle even a leopard hides itself in a fox's skin. You are planting a tree in the ground whose leaves will bear blood and its fruit revenge. In vengeance for Siyavash the very water will dress in black and bitterly curse Afrasiab. You who are a tyrant to your own self, my words will often come back to your mind. You are not on a hunt where you bring down a wild ass and send the other deer scattering in panic. You are snatching a prince from his throne; look more carefully at this deed while it is still early. Do not throw the kingdom of Turan foolishly to the wind; you must keep the day of misfortune in mind. She said this, then looked at Siavash, tore at both her cheeks, and let out a cry of grief. The king of Turan's heart burned with pity for her, and the eye of his reason was blinded by confusion. He told her: turn back and do not linger here. How can you know what I have decided about this cruelty? In his tall palace there was a room, one that was strange and cut off from Farangis. They threw her into that room and fastened chains and locks upon its door. Then he gave the order about Siavash, that innocent, silent king who bore no guilt. Take him to a place where no one will be his friend or come to his aid. Cut his head clean from his body, and let the vultures make his corpse their shroud. See to it that Siavash's blood does not scent the earth, nor let a single blade of grass grow on that day of vengeance. They drove him on foot, dragging him along, those guards who were murderers of men. Siavash cried out to his Creator: you who are above the turning of time, raise up a shoot from my seed, one shining like the blazing sun over the gathering, who will take revenge on these enemies of mine and restore my ways throughout the land. Pilsam walked behind him, his two eyes full of blood and his heart full of sorrow. Siavash said to him: farewell. May the earth be your weave and you its everlasting thread. Carry a greeting from me to Piran, and tell him the world has taken on another shape. I did not expect this from Piran; his counsel to me proved as flimsy as willow. He had told me that with a hundred thousand armored horsemen in full battle gear, whenever fortune turned against you, I would be your ally, your green meadow in the hour of need. Now here I am, running on foot before Garsivaz, so despised and dark of soul, and I see no friend beside me, no one to weep bitterly over my fate. Once he had passed beyond the city and the army, they dragged him out toward the plain. Garui Zereh took that glittering dagger from Garsivaz, ready for the killing. He threw that raging elephant of a man to the ground, feeling neither shame nor fear before the great commander. He set a golden basin before him and severed the head from that silver cypress. At the spot commanded, Garui Zereh carried the basin of blood and poured it out upside down. A wind rose up with dark, black dust and blotted out the sun and the moon. People could no longer see one another's faces, and they all heaped curses upon Garui.

When the sun slipped away behind the cypress line, the king's head sank into sleep. What a sleep it was: so much time passed, yet he never stirred, never woke again. When the throne and the field were emptied of the king, no sun was left with him, no tall cypress. I turn my gaze left and right, everywhere, but I find no beginning and no end to this world. One man does evil, yet good comes his way; the world serves him, and fortune bows to him. Another walks the world only in goodness, yet withers away, worn down by sorrow. Do not keep grief as your companion; do not darken your soul and heart in this world. A cry rose up from the house of Siyavash; a whole world seethed in fury at Garsivaz. The moon-faced women tore the ties from their hair, clawed their cheeks, and stood there broken. All the servant women cut their hair short; Farangis loosed her long, dark, musky locks. She cut them and bound her waist with her tresses, and with her fingertips she bruised her rose-red cheeks. Aloud she cursed the life of Afrasiab and poured out her tears in grief. Her cry reached the ears of the commander when he heard that wailing and bitter curse. The king said to the wicked Garsivaz: drag her out of her hiding place into the street. Haul her from her chamber to the court, and hand her over to the killers among the guards, so they may seize her by the hair and rip the veil from her body, and beat her with rods until the seed of vengeance is spilled from this soil of Turan. I want nothing left of the tree that grew from Siyavash: not root, not branch, not leaf, not crown, not throne. Every noble in that gathering, one by one, began to curse him. Never had anyone seen a king, a counselor, and an army pass such a judgment as this. Pilsam came, both cheeks streaming with blood, his soul scarred, his face wet with tears. To Lahhak and Farshidvard he told every word of it, from start to finish. He said: hell is better than the land of Afrasiab; there must be no rest or sleep in this country. Let us ride and go to Piran, and share in the grief and pain of the captives. They saddled three precious horses and seemed to fold the earth beneath them as they rode. All three riders reached Piran, their cheeks streaming with blood like a spring cloud. They laid out for him the whole story: what foundation fate had laid for such evils. Such a lamentation rose that no one in the world, high or low, had ever seen its like. They bound the hands of Siyavash as if he were a stone and threw a halter around his neck. They dragged him to the plain, his face wet with tears, driving him on foot before Goruy. They threw his elephant-strong body onto the burning dust and feared no one for it. Goruy set a basin before him and turned his head aside as one turns a sheep for slaughter. He cut that royal head from the body and cast him down like a tall cypress felled on the grass. The whole city filled with wailing and lament; tears fell from every eye like hail. When Piran listened to their words, he fell from his throne and lost his senses. He tore the clothes upon his chest, pulled out his hair, and poured dust on his head. He said to Pilsam: hurry, go at once, for a new grief has been added to this pain and hardship. They mean to kill Farangis too; do not turn your back on this errand at all. They dragged her by the hair to the court, into the hands of the murderous guards. A whole world had turned its eyes to tears at the deeds of vile-natured Afrasiab. For this is a terrible thing, full of pain and dread: that now they will cut Farangis in two, and the kingdom will fall to ruin, and no one will ever call this man king again. Then the champion brought from the stable ten horses with young, seasoned riders. He, with brave Ruyin and Farshidvard, raised sudden dust upon that road. In two days and two nights he reached the court and found that man of high name given over to cruelty. He saw Farangis half senseless, the guards dragging her along. A sharp sword gripped in each of their hands, an uproar rising from the court. At that very moment Piran arrived like the wind, and all who had any sense rejoiced. When dear Farangis caught sight of Piran, her face vanished behind a veil of bloody tears. She said to him: what evil have you plotted against me? Why have you left me to burn in this fire? Piran flung himself from his horse to the ground, his Pahlavi garments torn all to pieces. He ordered the court guards to hold off from the command for a while. He came in haste before Afrasiab, his heart wounded with grief, both eyes brimming with tears. He said: my king, may you live forever; may my soul find its nourishment in seeing you. What evil has come upon you, good-hearted one, that made you long for such an evil day? Why has the demon's counsel taken hold of your heart? The Lord of the world has stripped shame from your face. You killed Siyavash, an innocent man, and cast his name and honor into the dust. News of this evil will reach Iran: that the tall cypress in the garden has dried up. Many crowned kings of the land of Iran will come with armies full of grief and vengeance. The world had rested from the hand of evil, and the path of God had become clear. A deceiving demon leaped out of hell and came and wounded the heart of the Turkish king. That devil too deserves cursing, for it twisted your soul toward the evil path. For long days to come you will regret this; you will writhe a while in burning and anguish. I do not know whose evil counsel this was, nor what the Creator's design is in it. You rose from your place like a madman and adorned yourself with this senseless evil. Now you have gone past him and reached your own child, coming to harm your own blood in your helplessness. Surely Farangis does not seek fortune, nor the seat of kingship, nor crown, nor throne. Do not make yourself a byword in the world over a child, over a hidden infant. As long as you live, curses will be upon you, and after life, hell will be your custom. If the king would brighten my soul, let him send her to my palace. If the worry is over this child, then truly this pain and trouble is a small thing. Wait until it is parted from her womb; I will bring it before you to be dealt with as evil demands. He said to him: arrange it just as you have proposed; you have freed me from the need to spill her blood. The commander Piran was glad at that, freed from his worry and his pain. He came to the court and took her away, and settled much with the guards for her sake. Unharmed he brought her toward Khotan, the whole court and gathering still in an uproar. When he came to his palace, he said to Golshahr: this lovely-faced one must be kept hidden. Watch over this noble woman under your protection, and care for her like a devoted servant. Some days passed over this as well, and Farangis, radiant as the world, grew heavy with child.

A pitch-black night, the moon in hiding, and every bird, wild beast, and creature deep in sleep. Salar Piran saw in his dream that a candle had been kindled from the sun itself. Beside the candle stood Siavash, a sword in hand, and he called out: 'This is no time to sit still. Lift your head from this sweet slumber and give a thought to how the world will end. For today is a new order and a new feast; tonight is the celebration of noble Kaykhosrow.' The general trembled in his pleasant dream, and Golshahr, radiant as the sun, stirred beside him. Piran said to her: 'Get up and go, step gracefully to Farangis. I have just seen Siavash in a dream, brighter than the sun set high in the heavens. He told me: How long will you sleep? Do not linger! Come to the feast of Kaykhosrow, the seeker of the world.' Golshahr made her way toward the moon; the king had been parted from the moon's side. She saw him and hurried back in joy, and at once the world filled with the sound of it. She came in delight and said to Piran: 'Here is a match made in perfect order, sun paired with moon. Come in and behold the wonder, the greatness and the design of the Creator of the world. You would say he is fit for nothing but the crown, or else for armor, helmet, and the spoils of war.' The general came before the king, showered him with praise and laid offerings before him. Seeing that height and stature, that stately frame and mane, you would think years had already passed over him. For the sake of Siavash his eyes filled with tears, and he heaped curses upon Afrasiab. He said to the noble gathering: 'Even if my life is torn from me over these words, I will not let anyone raise a hand against this king, not even if I am handed over to the jaws of a crocodile.' When the sun revealed its face, the dark head of the moon slipped into sleep. When the army's champion awoke, he rushed swiftly to the king's side. He waited until the place was clear, then went up close to that famous throne. He said to him: 'O lord bright as the sun, ruler of the world, wakeful and full of wonder-working craft! Last night a servant grew at your gate; you would think wisdom itself had given him his substance. No one else is left with any beauty but you; you would say he alone belongs upon the royal throne. If Tur's day were to return, he would long to gaze upon this face. You would say the hero Fereydun is here again, in glory, in face, in hand, and in step. No one sees such a figure in any palace; through him the king's own splendor is renewed. Clear your heart of dark thoughts; raise up the crown and let your heart shine bright.' So the Creator of the world made all things bright, that war, injustice, and hatred were driven far away. His soul ached with grief over the blood of Siavash, and a cold sigh escaped his lips. He regretted what he had done, for with useless words he had caused pain. He said to him: about this newcomer I have heard many things from many people. Because of him the age will be full of turmoil and war; I keep it all in mind from my teacher, that from the line of Tur and of Kai Qobad a king of noble stock will rise. The world will long for his love, and all the city of Turan will bow before him in worship. Now whatever was destined to be has been; grief and pain and worry bring no gain. Do not keep him among the crowd; send him off to the shepherds in the mountains, so that he never learns who I really am, or why I handed him over to them. If his noble blood teaches him no wisdom from anyone, he will remember nothing of the past. He said all he could recall of this matter, and treated this old world as though it were new. What can you contrive when the remedy is not in your hands? The rope is long, but the hook is not yours to hold. If you see hardship from fate, that same fate will also be your teacher in goodness. The champion came to his door in high spirits, expecting only good in his heart. He began to praise the Creator of the world and to extol the king of the world. He was lost in thought until he reached his hall, wondering what would come of that trouble and that love. He summoned the mountain shepherds and spoke to them at length with wisdom, saying: guard this child like your own pure life; wind and dust must never touch him. His days must never grow hard; whatever his eyes and heart desire must be given. He gave the shepherd many gifts and sent a nurse along with the boy as well. He entrusted to them that darling of his heart and eyes, the admired and world-seeking young hero. The turning sky passed over this too; with love its face smiled upon Khosrow. When the proud boy turned seven, his talent whispered the secret of his noble blood to him. He made a bow from a piece of wood and a string from a sinew, tying knots on the string at every side. He made an arrow without feather or point, and set out to hunt game across the plain. When he turned ten, he grew into a mighty warrior, striking down boar and bear and wolf. From there he moved on to lion and leopard; that same bent wood was still his weapon of war. So it went as time passed on, until he came at the bidding of his guardian. The shepherd came down from mountain and plain, lamented, and passed by near Piran, saying: because of this proud one, this free lion, I have come to the champion, and my flock has scattered. At first he hunted only the deer, and never went after lions or fought with leopards. But now, to him, battling a roaring lion and hunting a deer are one and the same. I fear that harm may come to him, that this noble prince might endanger himself. When Piran heard this, he laughed and said: noble blood and true worth cannot stay hidden. He mounted his docile steed and rode to the lion-hearted young king. He ordered the boy brought lovingly before him, and Piran gazed at that glory and that face. He held him to his chest a long while, whispering secrets to the pure Judge above. The devout Kaykhosrow said to him: may the land of Turan shine bright because of you. For anyone who does not know who you are calls you nothing but a shepherd's boy. Yet you take a shepherd's child into your arms like this, and feel no shame before anyone. The wise man's heart burned with pity for him, and his face flared bright like fire. He said to him: O keepsake of great kings, chosen one who has not yet walked the world, you are the crown upon the head of monarchs. Who would ever call you a shepherd's son? No one of your lineage was ever a shepherd, and I know many a tale about your line. For the young man he called for a horse and fine gear, and for royal robes fit for a king. He walked with him into the palace, his soul still grieving for Siyavash. He raised him in his own embrace, and the turning of the days made him happy for the boy. So more of time's turning passed like this, while deep in his heart he kept love for the king. One dark night, at the hour of rest and sleep, a messenger came from Afrasiyab. In that darkness he summoned the chieftain and spoke at length of things long past. He said: all night my heart writhes with grim thoughts, and I am torn apart by grief. Ever since this child of Siyavash appeared, it is as if my daylight has vanished. A grandson of Fereydun, raised by shepherds, how does that fit with reason and good sense? If evil for me is written through him, it cannot be avoided, for it is God's decree. If he does not remember what has passed, let him live happily and we shall be happy too. But if he shows any trace of evil temper, his head must be cut off, just like his father's. Piran said to him: O king, you need no one to teach you anything. A little child, senseless as the simple ones, what trace could he keep of what has passed? Do not brood on this, and do not strive for evil. Recall what that deeply wise man said: the Creator is greater than any father, even if a child's love belongs to its mother. First, gladden me with a promise; recall one of the oaths of kings. Fereydun, with his justice, his throne, and his crown, always kept faith with the truth. When Afrasiyab heard Piran out, the warrior's head cleared of sleep. He swore a solemn, kingly oath by the white day and the deep blue night. By the Creator who made this world, who made the sky, the wild beasts, the tame flocks, and all life, that no harm from me would come to this child, and that I would never turn my sharp breath against him. Piran kissed the ground and said: O just king, without peer or equal, I am safe now in this vow and oath of yours; now my body and soul have found peace. From there he came hurrying to Khosrow, his cheeks flushed rose, his heart glad. He told him: drive all wisdom from your mind; when he means battle, answer him as if it were a feast. Go before him only as a madman; speak only like a stranger who understands nothing. Do not circle anywhere near reason, so that this single day may pass over you safely. He set the crown of the kings upon his head and fastened a royal belt around his waist. He called for a fine, swift-paced steed, and that pure-hearted youth mounted it. He came to the court of Afrasiyab, a whole world watching him with eyes brimming with tears. A cry went up: clear the way, make room, for a new figure has come before the throne. The valiant prince went forward, and the commander Piran led him ahead. He came near to Afrasiyab, and the grandfather's face went moist with shame before him. At that kingly neck and those strong hands, at that stature, that splendor, and that majesty, he looked a while and saw it clearly; the color kept draining from his face. The champion's body trembled like a willow; he lost all hope for the young man's life. For a moment it was so, then his face softened; fate brought love for the boy into his heart. He asked: O newly grown youth, what do you know of the ways of the world? How do you tend the sheep? How have you been roaming the land? He answered: there is no game to hunt; I have neither a bow nor feathered arrows of my own. He questioned him again about his teacher, about good and evil and the turning of the days. He told him: where there is a leopard, it tears open the heart of the sharp-clawed man. Third, he asked him about his mother and father, his home, his city, his eating and his sleep. He answered: a tearing lion will not let a battle-dog get the better of it. Khosrow laughed at his words and turned his face toward the army's commander. He said to him: this child's heart will not stay put; ask him from the head and he answers from the foot. Neither good nor evil is likely to come from him; a spiteful man is not made this way. Go, entrust him kindly to his mother, and into the care of a devout man. Send him off to Siavash's country, and keep every corrupt teacher far from him. Horses, servants, and all he needs, give it all freely from the treasury and coin. The commander moved with some haste in this, and led the boy out from Afrasiab's presence. He came to his own palace, glowing with joy, walking proudly, shielding him from the evil eye. He kept saying: by the grace of the just Creator, a new tree has come to bear fruit for the world. He opened up the ancient treasuries and prepared every kind of gift for the young prince. Gold coins and silk, swords and jewels, horses and armor, helmets and belts. And thrones too, and sacks of coin, carpets and furnishings, more and less. He sent them all off toward that city which had wholly turned into a thicket of thorns. Farangis and Kaykhosrow arrived there, and crowds of people appeared from every side. They took in that ground with their eyes, one by one, and the tongues of beast and bird were full of praise. Everyone with any grace kept saying: thanks to the just Judge of the world, for from that root of an uprooted blessed tree, He has raised such a sturdy branch as this. May the evil eye stay far from the king of kings; may Siavash's soul be full of light. All the soil of that city grew glad; the grass on the lawn became a free-standing cypress. From the earth that had drunk Siavash's blood, a tree rose out of the dust into the clouds. His face was painted upon its leaves, and from love of him the scent of musk arose. In the dead of winter it bore the sign of spring; it became a place of worship for the mourners. Such are the ways of this foul old crone, the world: she snatches the breast's milk from her own child. Once your heart's love is bound fast to the world, she suddenly brings your head down into the dust. Seek nothing from her but joy; in the garden of the world, do not smell the leaf of sorrow. Whether you wear a crown or your hand is empty, you will not see time pause for you at all. Do not torment your soul, for this is not your home; there is no place for you but the narrow coffin. Why hoard? Sit down and enjoy your food, trusting in the treasure of the world's Creator. When the sword's edge of sixty reaches your head, pour no more wine, for the man is already drunk on years. The years have handed me a cane in place of the reins; my wealth is scattered and my fortune has turned. So too the watchman up on the mountaintop no longer sees the army of the king. He does not know how to turn his reins from the enemy, unless a spearhead comes level with his eyes. The swift steed that once raced forward, the same enemy's snare has bound it fast. The same ear has grown tired of every sound, the nightingale's song and the lion's roar alike. Now that I have raised the cup of fifty eight years, I think of nothing but the coffin and the washing basin. A pity for that flower and musk and sweet water of thirty, and for the sharp cutting Persian blade of youth. The pheasant no longer circles the wild rose; now it wants the elm's blossom and the cypress bough. I ask only of the radiant Creator that I be granted enough time from this life, that from this famous book of ancient days I may leave a single tale behind me in the world, so that everyone who does justice to good speech will remember me only with kindness. In that other world too I have my plea to make, the world armed with the sharp sword and the crown. I am the servant of the Prophet's household, the singer who praises the dust beneath the feet of his heir. On this faith I was born and on it I will pass; know me as the dust at Ali's feet. I have no business with anyone else; there is nothing to add to this. Now return to the storyteller's words; see what the singing man has to say.

When word reached King Kavus that Siyavash's days had come to a ruinous end, how the chief of that gathering had severed his head from his body as if he were slaughtering a bird, how with a dagger they cruelly cut that royal head from his innocent body, the nightingale wails from the cypress branch, and the partridge cries among the flowers with the pheasant. The whole city of Turan was filled with grief and pain; even the pomegranate leaves in the forest turned yellow. They raised lament on every mountainside, yet there was no rescuer and no one to hear their plea. When King Kavus heard these words, his famous head sank low from the throne. He tore his clothes and his flesh, ripped at his face, and threw himself down from the high throne into the dust. The Iranians came out lamenting, girding themselves in weeping for that mourning. Every eye was full of blood, every cheek gone pale, every tongue full of memories of Siyavash. Tus and Gudarz and the brave Giv, Shapur and Farhad and lion-hearted Rahham, all had put on dark blue and black, all with dust on their heads in place of crowns. Then the news reached Nimruz, to the world-illuminating chief, that a cry had risen from the land of Iran, and the dark earth itself seemed to boil with sorrow. Kavus had poured dust upon his shoulders and torn to shreds all his royal robes. When Rostam heard this, his senses left him, and a cry of grief rose up from Zabol. Zal clawed at his cheeks with his nails and poured dust over his shoulders and neck. For a week he stayed in mourning and gloom; on the eighth day the breath went into the trumpet. A great army gathered around the mighty-bodied one, coming from Kashmir and Kabul. He set his face toward the court of Kavus, both eyes full of tears and his heart seeking vengeance. When he drew near the city of Iran, he tore apart all his hero's garments. He swore an oath by the Creator who upholds all: that my body will never go to battle without armor, that I will not wash the dust from my head, and grief and sorrow will always cover my body, my helmet is my cup and my sword; on my arm coils the noose of my snare. When he came before King Kavus, his head was covered with dust and his feet too. He said to him: your evil nature, O king, you sowed, and now your seed has borne its fruit. Your love for Sudabeh and her wickedness has lifted the royal crown from your head. Now you will plainly see how you are seated upon the waves of the sea. From the counsel of a foolish mind and an overbearing king, a great loss has fallen upon us. For the man who is the leader of the assembly, a shroud is better than to obey a woman's command. Siavash was undone by a woman's words. Blessed is the woman never born of any mother. What a loss: that noble chest, that stature, that height, his stirrup and his kingly saddle-arch. What a loss: that famous horseman, for the world will never see his like again. At the feast he was the very spring; in battle he was the crown of the renowned. I will fight with weeping eyes, and set the whole world burning like my own heart. Kavus looked into his face and saw the bloody tears and all that love in him. Out of shame he gave no answer at all, and warm tears poured down from his eyes. The mighty Rostam rose from beside his throne and turned toward the chamber of Sudabeh. He dragged her out from behind the curtain by her hair and pulled her from her seat of glory into blood. There in the passage he cut her in two with his blade, and King Kavus did not stir from his place. Rostam came to the court in mourning and pain, his heart full of blood, his eyes and face gone pale. The whole city of Iran fell into mourning; full of grief, they gathered around Rostam. For a full week, in sorrow and with weeping eyes, he sat at the court, full of pain and rage. On the eighth day he sounded the brass trumpets and drums, and Gudarz and Tus came to the court. And Farhad and Shiduosh and Gorgin and Giv, and Bahram and Roham and brave Shapur, Fariborz, son of Kavus, a tearing lion, and Goraza, who was a fearless dragon, and Faramarz, Rostam's son, who led the way, guardian of every border and a new commander. Rostam spoke to the warriors: For this vengeance I have given my heart, my soul, and my body. For never again in this world will a single hero gird his belt like the horseman Siavash. Do not think this matter a small thing; a vengeance like this cannot be counted small. Cast all fear out of your hearts, and turn the earth into a river of blood like the Oxus. By God, as long as I am alive in this world, my heart is packed full with vengeance for Siavash. That golden basin into which the ignorant Garui let his blood pour down, I will rub my face and eyes with that blood, in hope the pain and rage in my heart may ease. And if I am left with my hands bound and a noose set around my neck, and they drag me low in the dust like a sheep, both arms twisted in the coils of a lasso, even then, with my mace and my sharp sword, I will raise a day of reckoning across the world. My eyes shall see nothing but the dust of battle; wine and cup and feasting are forbidden to me. Every champion who stood at the court, when he heard Rostam speak in that way, they all raised the war cry together with him; you would think the field itself had come to a boil. A roar rose from the field up to the clouds; you would think the earth had fallen into a lion's jaws. The signal was struck on the backs of the elephants; the warriors drew their swords from their sheaths. The bellow of the ox horns rose up, with the blast of brass trumpets and curved brass pipes. The world filled with hatred for Afrasiab; you would say the water of the sea had come to a boil. There was no room on the ground for anyone to move; the sky itself lay hidden behind a wall of spears. The morning star was the first to enter the battle; earth and time washed their hands in blood. The champions of Iran girded themselves for war, with the royal Kaviani banner leading them on. Then Rustam of Zabul picked out from among the sword-wielding warriors of Kabul. From Iran and from the elm groves, he gathered twelve thousand of his heroes. Faramarz led the army at its head, for he was the son of a champion and a new commander. He marched until he reached the border of Turan, and saw no enemy along the way. In that region was the king of Sepijab, who had an army, treasure, and abundant resources. Varazad was the name of that warlord, brave, a driver of armies, and clear of spirit. He had thirty thousand swordsmen, all eager for war and battle. Varazad rode out from the center of his army and came swiftly toward Faramarz. He asked him, 'Tell me, what sort of man are you? Why have you turned toward this border?' 'It would be fitting if you told me your name and sought your own destiny in this affair.' 'Surely you have come by the king's command, if you come from the commander of an army.' 'What news do you bring of Afrasiab, of his throne, his crown, and his royal seat?' 'It must not be that your soul should leave your dark body at my hand while you remain nameless.' Faramarz said, 'You ill-fated warrior, I am the fruit of that royal tree,' 'whose name makes the lion writhe, and when he grows angry the elephant falls lifeless.' 'Why should I bother to speak my name to you, you demon-born creature of vile stock?' 'The mighty-bodied hero comes behind me with his army; he alone is enough as an avenger in this world.' 'To avenge Siavash he has bound his belt and come like a raging lion.' 'He will raise smoke from this worthless land; even the dust around him the wind will not dare touch.' When Varazad heard his words, he thought little of his fighting. He commanded his army to advance and to string all their bows. The troops formed their ranks on both sides and set iron helmets upon their heads. From every side rose the shouting of the warriors; the ears went deaf from the wailing of the war drums. When the war drums and the trumpets sounded, Faramarz's heart leaped up from its place. In a single charge he cut down a thousand warriors, then turned back from the battle. He charged again and struck down twelve hundred, then called out to Varazad: Stop your army. For today is the day of God's own punishment; the reward of evil, from God, is evil. So dense an army, so many riders, all thrown into panic by one famous man. Faramarz came on with his spear in hand, and closed the road of God to Varazad. When the warrior Faramarz caught sight of him, he let out a roar like a raging lion. He spurred his night black horse from where it stood and tightened his grip upon the spear. He drove one thrust against his belt so hard that beneath the armor his sash split apart. He lifted him from the poplar wood saddle as though he held a single gnat in his hand. He hurled him to the ground, then dismounted and gave many greetings to Siyavash's memory. He severed the famous head from its body; the man's shirt was drenched with blood. He said: Here is the first head of vengeance; the seed of war is scattered now, and has taken root. He set fire to the whole land and its fields, and the smoke rose up to the lofty sky. He wrote a letter to his father about the deed of the battle seeking Varazad: That when I opened the way to vengeance and war, I lifted him from his leopard skin saddle, For the blood of Siyavash I cut off his head, and I kindled fire across his country. From the other side a fast rider took to the road, heading toward the commander of Turan's army. Reporting that Rostam, the mighty one, has come for vengeance, and the nobles of Iran have gathered as one. They cruelly beheaded Varazad, and stirred up ruin across the borders of Turan. They shattered the army utterly, and set fire to the land and its fields. When Afrasiyab heard these words, he grew sick with grief over the old deeds. Not a single free horse was left on the plain; the shepherd brought his whole herd to the field. He opened the treasury of maces and armor plating, of spears and the daggers of India. The same treasure of gold coin, pearls and gems, the same crowns, the collars and golden belts. He took the key from the keeper of the treasury and spread coins across the whole palace and the field. When the whole army had been made ready, the riches were scattered out among them. He beat the brazen war drums and the Indian bells, and the riders set their minds toward battle. The commander drew his forces out of Gang, and led the army from the narrows onto the open plain. He sent for Sorkha and called him before him, and told him many tales about Rostam. He told him: take thirty thousand swordsmen, famous fighters, out to the field of war. Guard your life against the son of Zal; in battle no one is your equal. You are my son and you wish me well; you are the pillar of my army and my moon. As long as you stay alert and keep to the path, who would dare to face you? Now lead the way and stay watchful; keep the army safe from the enemy. Sorkheh set out from his father's side and led the banner and the troops onto the plain. When the scouts saw the dust of the enemy army, they wheeled around and went to Faramarz. From the Iranian army rose the sound of the war drums; the dust of the troops turned the sky black as ebony. The shouting of horsemen and the dust of the army turned the world to night, and the moon vanished. The flash of diamond blades, the spearheads sharpened and bloodied, You would say a mist had risen over the world; they had kindled the fire of battle. Heads of the slain lay scattered on every side; the ground rose like mountains from end to end. When Sorkheh saw the fighting go that way and saw the banner of the commander Faramarz, He gave the rein to his proud chestnut horse, took up his spear, and slung his bow behind him. Faramarz left the center of the army and rode against Sorkheh with his spear, hungry for revenge. He struck one spear thrust like a bolt of fire and lifted him from the saddle to the horse's mane. The Turks came to Sorkheh's aid, filled with fury and eager to fight. In the uproar of the Turks and the hard combat, Faramarz's spear shattered to pieces. Sorkheh realized he was no match for him; grief-stricken, he turned to flee. Faramarz chased after with his sharp sword, riding hard and raising chaos like doomsday. The Iranian horsemen, like demons, roared and thundered after him. When Faramarz got Sorkheh within his grasp, he reached out the way a leopard lunges. He seized him by the belt, tore him from the saddle, and suddenly threw him to the ground. He flung him down on foot, in shame, and dragged him from the battlefield to the camp. Just then Rustam's banner appeared on the road, with the dust of the elephants and the army. Faramarz came before his father like a whirlwind, victorious from the day of battle. He drove before him Sorkheh with his hands bound, having crushed Varazad's neck. Every ravine and plain was full of the slain; the enemy's head had turned away from the fight. The army blessed the champion and that renowned young son. Rustam too gave him his blessing and gave much wealth to the poor. The mighty warrior told a saying: anyone who rises to prominence in a gathering needs wisdom and noble blood, with skill as his ally and learning as his teacher. When he brings these virtues together, he grows brave and gains strength and standing. You expect nothing from fire but flames, and when a whole world stands before it, it burns. No wonder Faramarz is fierce and defiant, for steel has a heart full of fire. When it strikes hard stone, it splits it open and reveals the secret hidden in its heart. Then the mighty warrior looked at Sorkheh: a free-standing cypress on the meadow, chest like a lion's, face like spring, with black musk drawn like patterns over roses. He ordered them to take him out to the field, with a dagger, the executioners, and a basin, to bind his hands with the loop of a lasso and lay him on the ground like a sheep, to cut his head from his body as they did to Siavash, and let the vulture be his shroud. When Tus the commander heard this, he set off swiftly, bent on spilling blood. Sorkheh said to him: O proud king, why do you spill my blood when I am innocent? Siavash was my age and my friend; my soul is full of grief and sorrow for him. My eyes were full of tears day and night, my lips always open in curses against the one who took up that basin and dagger, against the one who beheaded that king. Tus's heart softened deeply with pity for that renowned man whose fortune had turned. He came to Rostam and told him: the commander's son has laid a plea. Rostam said: if the king should be so heartbroken and in mourning, then may Afrasiab's heart and soul be forever full of pain, and both his eyes full of tears. Zavareh carried off that basin and dagger and handed it to the army's executioners. He cut off his head with the dagger, weeping; he cried out a moment, and the deed was done. He hung the severed head and body on the gallows, both feet turned upside down above the head. Out of vengeance he scattered dust over the slain man, and they slashed his body open with the dagger. O world, what do you want from those you raise? What do you want from your heartbroken, wounded children?

When the army returned from the field of war, their bodies drenched in blood and their heads caked with dust, word reached Afrasiab from the Turks: the good fortune once awake had fallen into sleep. The famous Sorkheh had been killed, and their bright fortune had suddenly turned against them. They had cut off his head and turned it upside down, and hung his blood soaked body on the gallows. All the people of Iran are wounded to the heart, and have bound their belts to avenge Siavash. The head and crown of Afrasiab were bowed low; he tore at his hair and let his tears pour down. He kept saying: O generous one, O noble sage, O renowned leader, O wise and brave hero, what a pity for your face, radiant as the moon, what a pity for that kingly stature and height. Crying out, he scattered dust upon his head and tore all his garments upon himself. Afrasiab spoke to his army like this: for us the time of eating and sleeping is over. Brighten your eyes with vengeance, and make a bed out of armor and mail. When the sound of war drums rose from his court, his army stirred before the palace. The brass trumpet blared and the drums were struck; the sky bent down to kiss the earth. The king called out to his fierce warriors: O renowned men of the day of battle, when the drums rise on both sides, the fighting man wastes no time. Fill your hearts with hatred for the fight, and curse the Iranians completely. The clamor rose, the wail of trumpets, the breath of brass horns and Indian bells. The earth boiled under the hooves of horses, and the shouting and uproar climbed to the clouds. When the dust of the army rose from the plain, a lookout came to Rostam with the news, that an army had come, heavy as a mountain, all of them battle seekers and brave fighters. The air turned violet from the blades of the bold; they marched out with the royal banner of Kaveh. The roar of both armies rose up, and the world filled with men eager for war. You would say the sun and moon were caught in the fray, and the stars gripped in the jaws of a sea monster. The commander of the Turks readied for battle; they seized maces and daggers in their hands. Barman advanced toward the right wing with an army of Turks, roaring and thundering. Kahram the swordsman took the left wing, while the king stood in the center with his company. On this side Rostam drew up his army; the air vanished behind the blades of the heroes. He set Giv and Tus on the right wing, watchful horsemen with elephants and drums. Gudarz son of Kashvad held the left, with Hojir and the noblemen all together. In the center stood Rostam of Zabol, clad in armor, with his Kabuli dagger. You would think it was neither night nor day; the world-lighting sun had hidden itself away. The earth turned the color of stone under the horses' hooves, and the sky, from the spears, looked like a leopard's spotted back. You would think the air had become a mountain of iron, its peak covered with helmets and mail. Lances and banners rose into the clouds, and the violet blades flashed like lightning. From the heart of the army came Pilsam, his heart full of blood, his face grim with grief. He spoke to the king of the Turanian host: 'O gifted king, wisher of good, if you will not withhold from me a mount, armor, a mace and a sword, today I will make war on Rostam and drag his whole reputation into disgrace. I will bring you his head and his horse Rakhsh, along with his own helmet and his world-conquering sword.' Afrasiyab's spirit lifted with joy; he raised his spearpoint higher than the sun. He said to him: 'O renowned lion, surely even an elephant could not bring you down. If you can seize that giant-bodied man, the age itself will be freed from strife. No one in Turan will match you in rank, in treasure, in sword, in throne and crown. If you lift my head to the turning heavens, I will give you my daughter and my kingdom. Two shares of Iran and Turan will be yours; the jewels, the treasure, and the cities will be yours.' When Piran heard this he was deeply troubled, and came before the king of sun-bright fortune. He said to him: 'This young and hot-headed man is bringing ruin upon his own body. He is deceived by his own name, and gives no thought to how his venture will end. No one walks on his own feet toward hell, or recklessly toward a dragon's jaws. If he goes to battle with the giant, he will bury his own head in the dust. The hearts of our warriors will break in the fight, and this too will be a disgrace upon the king. You know he is the younger brother; the love of an elder for the younger is all the greater.' Then Pilsam said to Piran: 'Do not let your heart grieve over this warrior. For even if I fight a battle-dragon, by your good fortune I will bring no shame upon the king. Before you, against four famous champions, you yourself saw what my hand could do. Surely my strength is greater now; it is not right to break my resolve. This task will be accomplished by my hand; do not circle around the gate of an evil star.' When the king heard these words from him, he gave him a horse fit for battle, along with a sword and horse-armor, a lance, a coat of mail, and a warrior's helmet. Pilsam prepared himself for that fight, and rode out like a lion, swift as wind and breath. Rustam called out to the Iranians: Where is the one who claims to be a dragon on the day of battle? When Giv heard these words he flared up, struck out and drew his sword from its sheath. Rustam said to him: fighting a single Turk brings you no shame. The two warriors clashed together, the raging Giv, son of Gudarz, against Pilsam. Pilsam thrust a spear at Giv so fiercely that both his feet were knocked from the stirrups. When Faramarz saw that help had come to his comrade, that fighting ally proved useful to him. He brought a sword down on Pilsam's spear, and the spear was cut clean through by his blade. He struck again at the crest of Pilsam's helmet, and that battle-hungry sword shattered. Pilsam kept wheeling against those two champions in the field like a furious lion. Rustam looked out from the heart of the army and saw two brave and noble warriors, locked in combat with a single lion of a man, kicking dust up toward the clouds. Rustam knew that no Turk but Pilsam had such strength and such fierce breath. And moreover, from the renowned wise men, from the words of the star-reading priests, he had heard of good and evil fortunes in the stars; he had measured the world left and right, that if Pilsam, spared the harshness of fate, gained wisdom and the discipline of a teacher, no warrior anywhere, in Iran or Turan, could match him or gird a belt against him. It seems his hour has come, for he has charged raging into my grip here. He ordered his army not to move from their places, nor to advance even a step forward. I will go and test the mettle of Pilsam, to see what sinew and stature and strength he has. He took up a heavy war spear, pressed his thighs tight and set his helmet on his head. The stirrups grew heavy and the reins light; he fixed his glittering spearpoint on his target. Grim with fury, foam on his lips, he charged from the center to the front of the ranks. He said: Renowned Pilsam, you wanted to burn me with your breath. So he spoke, galloping like the wind, and exchanged a word or two in battle with him. He drove a spear into Pilsam's waist and lifted him from the saddle like a ball. He galloped all the way to the heart of the Turanian army and flung him down contemptuously in their midst. He said: dress this one in yellow brocade, for the dust has turned him blue as lapis. He turned his reins from that place and came roaring back to the center of his own army. Piran wept tears from his lashes, seeing Pilsam's body beyond any healer's reach. The heart of the army and the king of Turan were broken, and the battlefield went dark. A roar rose from both armies, the war-hungry warriors shouting 'seize them, hold them!' The war-drums thundered on the backs of elephants, their sound carrying for miles on every side. The ground was worn down by the hooves of the horses; every mountain became a sea, every plain a mountain. From the endless blare and wail of the trumpets, it seemed the very sky was shaken from its place. The stones turned to coral and the dust to blood; the heads of proud commanders were struck down. So many fell on both sides that the dust became a sea and the plain rose like a mountain. A wind rose up from the battlefield, and the dust of the army covered the sky. The two armies charged across the plain, unable to tell one another apart. The world grew dark as a black night; you would think night had come close upon the day. Afrasiab said this to his army: 'Our waking fortune has fallen asleep.' 'If even one of you slackens in the fight, no time will be left to me for delay.' 'Set your ambushes on them from every side; pin them to the earth with your spears.' He himself came from the heart of Turan's army, his heart seared with hate, bent on vengeance against Tus. He killed many of Iran's soldiers; Tus grew heartsick and turned his back to flee. A man came seeking help to Rustam: 'Today this battle has lost its color and scent.' 'The whole field has become a sea of blood, and the banner of Iran's commander has fallen.' The mighty-bodied one came from the center of the army, and behind him Faramarz with his company. Many shield-bearers stood in the front whose hearts were hostile toward Rustam. All were kin and allies of Afrasiab, all hearts full of hatred, heads rushing to war. The champion killed many of them, while Faramarz and Tus came up at his back. When Afrasiab looked at that purple banner, in the place where the standard stood, he knew that the mighty warrior was Rustam, the proud one, of the line of Nariman. He grew furious like a fighting leopard, pressed his heels to his horse, and went to battle him. When Rustam saw that black banner, he roared like a raging lion. The famous champion boiled over with rage and gave the rein to his swift-footed steed. He grappled with the defiant Afrasiab; in that clash blood flowed like a river of water. The commander of Turan's army drove his spear into the side of the vengeful Rustam. The spearhead struck at the fastening of his belt, but it had no effect on his tiger-skin armor. The champion turned to strike back in vengeance and drove a spear into the head of Afrasiab's horse. The charger crashed down in pain from its head, and the warlike king was thrown from its back. Rustam kept aiming for Human's waist, trying to cut short his fighting. Human watched from a distance, then raised his heavy mace over his shoulder. He struck the mighty hero on the shoulder, and a cry rose up from the army. Rustam turned to look behind him, and the famous king slipped from his grasp. The crown-bestowing hero flared with rage and spurred Rakhsh after Human. He galloped and rushed after him, but the moment had passed and he could not catch him. The Turkish commander did not fall into his hands; he had mounted a swift steed and fled. When he turned away from battle with Rustam, the warmonger rode off in flight. From every side the trumpets blared, and the sky itself seemed shaken from its place. The shouts of the chiefs rose to the clouds, and the heavy maces came swinging down. The warriors all raised their battle cries and lifted their spearheads toward the sky. The whole ground was covered with the dead and wounded, as if red tulips had sprung up among yellow saffron. The horses trampled blood beneath their hooves, and the elephants' feet turned crimson from the hearts of the slain. The Turks fled like the wind, for Rustam's arm was dealing out his justice. For three leagues, like a raging dragon, the great hero pursued the treacherous foe. From there the mighty hero turned back, and the enemy army was thrown into utter disarray. The noble Tus asked Rustam how the lion had taken his drum from a wild ass. Rustam answered him: when a heavy mace remembers the necks of fighting men, no heart of stone or anvil stays intact; first the striker's chest and arm must be strong. The club with which Human struck me, do not call it iron; it was soft as wax. They returned to their own camp, the whole army left with no need for spoils. The entire plain was strewn with iron, silver, and gold: spearheads, harnesses, helmets, and belts.

When the sun lifted its head above the mountains, it scattered rubies across the streams. The mighty Rustam gathered all the spoils and shared them out among his brave men. The trumpets roared and wailed, and Rustam raised his army to march. They set their faces toward Afrasiyab, every cheek wet with tears for Siyavash's murder. Then word reached the battle-hungry king that Rustam had turned toward Turan. He said to Piran: The Iranians have all girded themselves for evil. Now our whole land will be laid waste, left to the pleasure of Iran's warriors. Someone will carry the news to Rustam about this ill-omened, luckless child. At once they will take him to Iran's army and set a shameful crown upon his head. Send a swift rider out this very moment after that cursed, suspect offspring. Let him bring both, the boy and his mother, together, to tell all that has happened, great and small. A rider came and took them away; the two helpless souls went as if senseless. They came before Afrasiyab, arriving full of grief, sorrow, and anguish. From there the king of Turan led his army toward the sea of China. Rustam sat down upon his throne, and Afrasiyab's fortune fell into the dust. First he told a fitting tale: noble is the one who does not go looking for an enemy. When your foe stands before you, better he be slain, or better still, that he flee and turn away. He searched the palace for all its treasure, and they told him of every part in full. Slaves, horses, and attendants, along with precious, fair-faced servants, treasuries of gold coin and jeweled crowns, gems, brocades, and thrones of ivory, one by one from every side fell into his hands, and many jewels came to him from the treasure of Gang. The whole army grew rich from it, decked with armlets, thrones, and crowns. He gave Tus one of those ivory thrones, with an armlet, a torque, and a royal decree of Chach. He told everyone: whoever resists, or speaks the name of Afrasiyab, cut his head from his body at once, and make of him a feast for the vultures. Anyone who seeks wisdom and safety will not reach toward the way of the devil. You must keep your child in comfort, safe from hardship and free from want. Bring no suffering to the poor; keep to justice, and strive to deal fairly. For this world is a passing inn, not eternal, and no glory rises higher than Jamshid's glory. Yet the lofty heavens brought him down, and made the world master over him. A crown set with royal jewels, two armbands, a torque, and earrings. He gave Sepijab and Soghd to Gudarz, with much advice and a charter for that frontier. He praised him greatly and blessed him: there is no one like you in all the land of Iran. Greatness, glory, high standing, and justice, we learn feasting and warfare alike from you. You have skill, noble nature, and wisdom; your own soul carries you toward peace. It is fitting that you heed my counsel, for you are the teacher of the great. From Sepijab to the Golzarion River, let no one step outside your command. To Fariborz, son of Kavus, he sent a golden crown, gold coins, a throne, and a belt. He told him: you are the commander and the chief, and you were brother to the noble Siyavush. Gird yourself to avenge your brother; do not loosen the coiled lasso from your saddle-strap. March your army into China and Khotan, seeking vengeance on our enemies everywhere. Do not rest from avenging Afrasiab; keep food, ease, and sleep far from your body. The news reached Machin and China that Rostam had taken the imperial throne. They all prepared gifts and offerings, of gold coins and royal jewels. Tahamtan granted their lives mercy, seeing how alert and clear their souls were. After that, hunting with cheetah and hawk, a long stretch of time went by. It happened that one day Zavareh set out, riding swiftly to hunt wild asses. He sent a Turk ahead to be his guide, and rode on until he reached the place. In that wide plain he saw a thicket so dense you would think none could pass through it. With so much fragrance, color, and running water, your very soul seemed renewed by the breeze. Then that reckless Turk opened his tongue and recalled a memory before Zavareh. He said: this was Siyavush's hunting ground; his love for the land of Turan rested on this place. Here he was happy and content; every place but this one was full of grief for him. When Zavareh heard these words from him, the old days came back fresh upon him. When that Turk's speech reached his ears, he fell from his horse and lost his senses. A hawk was gripped in his hand; he let it go, and his lashes ran with rivers of blood. His companions from the army came to him and found him grieving, his face awash with tears. They cursed that guide and struck him down, each with a blow, off his feet. Zavareh swore a mighty oath, while pale tears poured from his eyes. From now on I seek neither hunt nor sleep; I will not turn from avenging Afrasiab. I will not let Rustam rest at all; the vengeance must be prepared. The moment he reached the mighty Rustam, he cried out when he saw his face. He said to him: we came here for revenge, though our lips arrived full of blessings. Since God, the giver of good, gave you strength, and fate gave you the turning of the sun's favor, why should this land be left standing and prosperous, why let anyone live happy on this soil? Do not forget the vengeance for that king, whose like the world will never see again. He stirred that elephant-bodied warrior into action, and Rustam did what he saw was right. He set to plundering and killing; he laid waste to the whole land, top to bottom. From the land of Turan to Saqlab and Rum, they left not a single prosperous border standing. They cut off the heads of young and old; women and small children they took captive. In this way, for more than a thousand leagues, ruin swept across the whole country. Whoever was a noble of high birth came forward and bowed his head to the dust, saying: we have turned away from Afrasiab; we do not wish to see him even in a dream. Because of the blood he spilled of the innocent, no one had a path to walk on that ground. Now, though our assembly is scattered, we are all your servants and slaves before you. Since you have won, do not spill innocent blood; do not sharpen the claws of the turning heavens. We do not know where that cruel man is, whether he is in the clouds or in the dragon's breath. When the clear-hearted, elephant-bodied hero heard the words of that assembly, he relented. He marched toward the border of Qachghar Bashi and summoned all the leaders of the army. The wise men gathered before him, the great ones and the seasoned, experienced chiefs. They said: Kavus, without power, without glory, without support, sits on the throne with no guide. If Afrasiab, from some road, without delay, brings an army against Iran to war, and gets his hands on that old man Kavus, all our hopes and peace will collapse. We have paid back the whole debt of vengeance, one by one; we have burned all his prosperous cities. For six long years now, not a single good day has passed over us. Now let us go back to that old king; when battle comes again, we will all be renewed. If you set your heart on this old world, it plays coquette and hides its meaning from you. The mighty Rustam agreed to what the blessed sage had spoken in this tale. The glad-hearted guide said this: choose what is good from this fleeting inn of a world. Drink and delight, dress and eat; this is your only share of this passage through life. Do not look toward greed, for it is your enemy; its heart is a slave to the demon's soul. Look and see who lies buried beside you; how long will you weep over these possessions? When Rostam heard this, shame came over him, and a strong resolve to depart took hold of him. He looked in every direction at the herds of horses left loose across the Turkish plain. Ten thousand servants and attendants he brought, fit for a king. Along with musk pods and sable fur, with white pelts and reddish leather goods. With color and fragrance, with silk and gold, the backs of the male elephants were adorned. From furnishings, from more and less, from clothing, treasure, and coin, from stores of weapons, crowns, and thrones, they hauled it all to Iran and packed their loads. From Turan he set out toward Zabolestan, heading for the fortunate Dastan. Toward Pars went Tus, Gudarz, and Giv, an army so renowned and brave. All the fortunate famous men turned their faces toward the king of the world. After that, when Afrasiab heard that Rostam had crossed to that side of the water, he went from the west toward the sea of the Gang, his heart full of vengeance, his head full of war. He saw the whole land turned upside down, the great men slain and the lesser ones led off captive. No horse, no treasure, no crown, no throne, and not one fresh leaf left on a tree in the gardens. A whole world set ablaze, every palace torn down and burned. The king wept tears of blood from his eyes, and said this to the chiefs of his army: Whoever forgets this will let his own waking soul fall silent and die. Every one of you, fill your hearts with vengeance; make the shield your bed and the sword your pillow. Let us bring battle and vengeance upon Iran, and drive them into the earth with our spears. If they escaped like wind in one battle, we must not let our resolve grow so weak. He prepared raids in every direction and found no time for rest or leisure. The flourishing land and its trees kept burning, and the situation grew hard for the Iranians. For seven years the sky ran dry of rain; fortune changed, and the times turned against them. The world was filled with hardship and want, and this went on through a long stretch of days.

One night Godarz saw in a dream a cloud rise from Iran, heavy with rain. On that rain cloud rode a blessed angel, who said to Godarz: open your ears and listen. If you wish to be freed from this hardship, and from this famous, ferocious Turkish dragon, there is a new hero rising in Turan, a king whose name is Kaykhosrow. A prince descended from Siyavash, skilled in every art and of noble blood. From this line he carries the blood of Kayqobad, and on his mother's side, the lineage of Tur. When his blessed steps reach Iran, whatever he asks of fate, fate will grant. He will gird himself to avenge his father, and turn the land of Tur upside down. He will set the Red Sea boiling with fury, and never rest from his hatred of Afrasiyab. All year long he will wear the armor of vengeance, night and day mounted and ready for battle. Among all the champions and proud warriors of Iran, he will find no guide but Giv to lead him. Such is the command of the turning heavens, which, out of justice, hold him dear. When Godarz woke from his dream, he went to God in prayer. He pressed his white beard to the dust, full of hope in the Lord of the world. When the sun appeared from behind the raven of night, it rose like a golden lamp. The commander sat upon his ivory throne and adorned his hall with a seat of teak. Deep in thought, he called Giv to him and spoke at length about that dream. He told him: your steps and your days are blessed, and your star lights up the whole world. From the moment your pure and faithful mother bore you, the entire earth filled with praise. By the command of God, the blessed angel showed himself to me in a dream last night. Seated on a cloud full of wind and moisture, he washed all the world clean of its sorrow. He saw me and asked: why all this grief? Why is the world so full of hatred and so dry? It is because the king has lost his glory and might, and no longer keeps to the ways of kings. When Kaykhosrow comes from the land of Turan, he will cast pain and vengeance upon our enemies. None of the brave champions will find him, except the renowned Giv, son of Godarz. The high heavens have decreed it this way: through you, the bonds of grief and pain will be loosed. You always sought fame between the two armies; now eternal fame has come into your hands. As long as there are people and speech in the world, such a name will never grow old. The earth, together with the lofty heavens, will be freed from its bonds by your hand. Treasure comes through hardship, and fame through toil; surely your name is worth more than any treasure. Even if you cannot live forever, a good name is better than this fleeting house of clay. You will bring the world a rightful king, and make the tree of loyalty bear fruit. Giv said to him: father, I am your servant; as long as I live, I will strive to fulfill your will. I take this task gladly, if it comes to pass, for its blessed name and its guiding purpose. He went to the hall and prepared to set out, still amazed at his father's dream. When the shining sun appeared, the earth turned the color of a yellow blossom. Brave Giv came, his belt fastened, a strong, wind-footed steed beneath him. He said to Godarz: O champion of the world, brave, proud, and clear of soul, a lasso and a horse are companions enough for me; no one else should be dragged into that land. When I need someone, I will send for people; after that, perhaps battle will come to me. For a while my home will be the plains and mountains, unless a guide appears before me. To you, victorious champion of the world, I will return only glad and clear of soul. Take little Bizhan into your arms; raise him and keep him safe from the turns of fate. I do not know if we will meet again after this; who can know such things but the world's Creator? Farewell, and keep me in your memory; free your soul from grieving over me. When you wash your face for prayer, call on the world's Creator for me as well. Perhaps the just God will guide me to the presence of that renowned lord. By his father's command he made ready and rode out, his father's heart full of pain, his face streaked with tears. The father was old and gray, the son young and brave, his jaws opened for war like a lion's. The father did not know if he would see his son again; at his going, his heart was turned upside down.

How many hardships people have suffered in this world, willingly borne for the sake of greatness. In the end, the only bed is the dust; from it you get only poison, never any cure. Since you know you will not stay here long, why set the crown of greed upon your head? That same greed you will drag beneath the earth; you will lay its head down in the grave. Let this world's joy be enough for you. Why should your labor be for someone else? You toil, and another eats it easily; he won't so much as glance at your grave or coffin. His joy too will come to an end; his head will sink under the dust as well. Think about the day you must pass on; make worship of the just Lord your practice. Fear God and harm no one: this alone is the road to salvation, nothing more. Now, wise one with a watchful heart, do not fall into doubt; pull your foot free of the mud. The Creator is the one who sustains you; you are the servant, the handiwork of the Creator. When you bow your neck in thought, do not question or pass judgment on existence itself. It is not right to eat, sleep, or sit with one who will not confess that God exists. Such a person's heart is blind, his mind is dull; the wise do not count him among human beings. There are signs of His existence upon water and earth; through knowledge, do not bury your mind in the grave. He is the powerful, the knowing, the possessor of all; He is the fashioner of mind and soul. He created the world, both place and time, for the sake of the tiny gnat and the heavy elephant alike. When the commander of the Turks said in his heart, 'I will raise my head above the gathering through excess,' he killed the young prince like that; he knew nothing but treasure and the edge of the sword. Yet from that prince's line the shining Creator raised up a tree, reaching high with fruit. For someone told him that there is One beyond you, and in this world that Creator is enough. Lord of the sun, of Saturn, and of the moon; from Him come victory and dominion. Lord of existence and of truth; He wants no crookedness or falsehood from you. There is no path but His will and command; even the sun and moon are not aware of this knowledge. Old Gudarz commanded his son that going to Turan was a task that could not be avoided. At his command Giv girded his waist and set out like a raging lion. He rode on until he reached the border of Turan; whomever he found alone along the road, he would speak to in the Turkish tongue and ask for word of Kaykhosrow. When the man said, 'I have no news of the king,' he would swiftly empty that body of its life. He would hang him in the coil of his lasso and quickly scatter the dust of him to the ground. He kept it hidden so no one would learn his secret, nor even hear his name or his voice. He took one man along with him, someone from that gathering to serve as his guide. Alert, he traveled the road with him, but for a long while he never revealed his secret. One day he said to him: in this world I want to ask you something in private. If I find you truthful, and you cleanse your heart of falsehood with knowledge, I will give you whatever you ask of me; I will hold back nothing, not even great wealth. The man answered: knowledge is enough, but it is scattered among many people. If I know the thing you are asking, your tongue will not go empty of an answer. Kaykhosrow said: where is he now? You must tell me the truth. He answered: I have never heard such a name, nor have I ever asked about it. When he got such an answer from his guide, he struck with his sword and flung him headlong. He wandered into Turan like a man dazed, hoping to find some trace of the king. So it went on for seven years, his body worn thin by sword and by leather straps. His food was wild game, his clothing the skins of wild asses; his horse fed on grass, and he drank brackish water. He roamed the deserts and mountains, in hardship and pain, far from his people. It happened one day that he was lost in thought when a lush, fruitful thicket rose before him. Gloomy, he came into that meadow; the world was bright, but the man's heart was heavy with grief. He saw green earth and a spring brimming with water, a place for rest and sleep. He dismounted and let his horse go free, then lay down, still turning worries over in his heart. He said: perhaps a foul demon deceived the champion who had that dream. I see no sign of Kaykhosrow here. Why do I keep dragging myself on like this? Now, whether my companions are at war, or my comforters are gathered at a feast, one seeking a name in battle, another spending happy days, my fortune scatters walnuts across a dome that cannot hold them. I keep scattering my life for nothing; my back is bent like a curved bow. It seems Kaykhosrow was never born of his mother, or if he was, time has thrown him to the wind. This search brings me only pain and hardship; blessed is the one who dies by poison instead. His head full of grief, he roamed that meadow, still calling out and searching for the king. Far off he saw a shining spring, and a tall, cypress like youth, gentle and calming to the heart. In his hand he held a cup full of wine, with a fragrant, colorful sprig set upon his head. From his figure shone a divine glory, and the mark of wisdom was plain upon him. You would have said Manuchehr sat there on an ivory throne, a turquoise crown upon his head. A scent of love rose from his face, and his hair seemed made to grace a crown. Giv said in his heart: this can be none but the king; such a face fits nothing less than the throne. On foot he turned eagerly toward him, and as the king seeking hero drew near, the knot of his long suffering loosened, and the famous treasure he sought appeared before him. When Kaykhosrow spied him from the spring, he smiled, and his heart swelled with joy. He said in his heart: this warrior can be none but Giv; in this land there is no other hero of his mark. He has come to seek me out; he will carry me to Iran and make me king. When Giv reached him he bowed low and said: O renowned and lofty one, I am certain you are the son of Siyavash, of the royal line, Kaykhosrow himself. The king answered him: and you are Giv, son of Gudarz, O famous one. Giv said to him: O chief of the just, who told you tales of Gudarz? Who gave you news of Keshvad and of Giv, that you should live in gladness and glory? Kaykhosrow said to him: O lion of a man, my mother recalled this to me from my father, who spoke of the divine glory when his life was drawing to its close. He would say to my noble mother: what evil may yet fall upon my head from this place? In the end Kaykhosrow will appear and turn the key that opens every lock. When the ruler of the world grows to be a hero, proud Giv will come from Iran, and carry him to the throne of Iran, bring him before the famous men and the lions of war, set the world in order by his valor, and take our vengeance at last. Giv said to him: O head of the proud, what sign do you bear of your royal glory? The mark of Siyavash was clear to see, like a spot of pitch upon a bed of roses. Uncover your arm and show it to me; your sign is plain before this gathering. The king bared his own body, and Giv looked upon that dark mark, which had come down as an inheritance since the days of Kayqobad; by it the true lineage of the kings was known. When Giv saw that mark he bowed low, poured out tears, and whispered his secret. The lord of the earth embraced him, and in his joy called down blessings upon him. He asked about Iran, the throne and the court, about Gudarz and about loyal Rostam. Giv said to him: O world ruling king, proud, vigilant, and blessed of fortune, the world ruler who holds all good and ill, if he had shown me all of paradise... The seven realms are yours to rule, with greatness and the royal crown placed upon you. My heart never knew such joy as this, that I have seen your face here in the land of Turan. Who in all the world could know if I am still alive, whether I lie in dust or was thrown into fire? Thanks to the ruler of the world that fortune has brought this bitter suffering to an end with joy and good. The two of them left that thicket and took the road; Khosrow asked news of King Kavus. And of those seven years of grief and pain, of his rest, his sleep, and his food. He told the king the whole story from start to finish: what fate the world's creator had laid down. Of Gudarz's sleep and his long ordeal, of food and clothing, of pain, of peace and comfort. How the years had stripped Kavus of his glory, how grief for his son had left him without wing or foot. How color and fragrance had drained from Iran, how the whole land had turned toward ruin. Khosrow's heart burned with grief and pain for him; his face blazed like fire. He said to him: Now, after this long suffering, fortune will grant you peace and comfort. Be like a father to me, and tell no one; let us see what time will bring to pass. The commander mounted Giv's horse, while Giv went on foot before the young hero. He held an Indian blade in his grip; whoever crossed his path, without delay, the clear-hearted Giv struck off his neck and buried his body under earth and clay. They went toward the warrior son of Siavash, and when the two men had gathered their hearts and wits again, they made Farangis their ally too, and secretly set the plan in motion: that all three should set out on the road, hidden from the fierce and war-seeking warriors. Farangis said: If we delay, we will make the whole world close in tight upon our hearts. Afrasiab will learn of this; he will neither eat nor rest in sleep. He will come like the White Demon, his heart despairing of its own sweet life. No one, in the open or in secret, will see even one of us left alive in the world. The world is full of ill-wishers and enemies; every border of ours is a haunt of the devil. You, my blessed son, my prince, take care to listen to one piece of my advice. For if that cursed man gets word of us, he will set fire to this settled land. There is a meadow not far from here, off to one side of the road the horsemen of Tur travel. There are streams and running water there, whose very sight refreshes the soul. Take the black saddle and bridle and go to those meadows at dawn. When the sun climbs to the peak of the sky's dome, it will be time for the commander to sleep and to eat. Whatever herd there is in that meadow comes down to drink at the stream. Show Bahzad the saddle and bridle; once he grows calm, step forward. When you reach him, show a kind face; be gentle and stroke his head with love. When Siyavash lost all hope of the world, the bright day turned dark before his eyes. This is what he said to the night-black Bahzad: 'From now on, obey no one but the wind.' 'Stay on the mountains and in the meadow until Kaykhosrow comes seeking you.' 'Be his mount, and trample the world; sweep the earth clean of the enemy with your hooves.' The brave commander mounted his horse, while Giv went on ahead on foot. They set their faces toward that steep slope, as resourceful people do. When the herd came up to the narrow place, they drank their fill and turned back. Bahzad looked and saw the king, and drew a cold sigh up from his heart. He saw Siyavash's saddle, tiger-marked, the long stirrup and the arrow-notch. He kept his feet in the water and, from where he stood, would not step forward. When Kaykhosrow found him standing still, he ran and hurried toward him with the saddle. He rubbed his hands over the horse's eyes and face, stroked his chest and neck, and combed his mane. He gave him the bridle and set the saddle on, and remembered his father with much grief. When he sat on the steed and pressed his thighs, that great war-horse sprang up from its place. Like the wind he blazed through the air, leaping away until he vanished from Giv's sight. Giv's heart filled with grief and he stood stunned; in that bewilderment he called on God's name. He said: 'The scheming demon has turned into a mount and shown its face.' 'Now Khosrow's life is gone, and all my toil; that very toil was my only treasure in the world.' When the king had crossed half of that mountain, he drew back that black rein hard. He waited until Giv came up to him, and the clear-hearted, brave king spoke thus: 'I can bring the warrior's thought into the open with my bright soul.' Giv said to him: 'O proud king, it is fitting that the secret should be plain to you.' 'You have the divine glory and majesty of the kings; you can trace a hair and see its very center.' He said: 'Because of this horse of blessed breed, a thought came into your heart.' 'This was the warrior's thought: that a demon had come to this young man.' 'Now he has gone, and turned my toil to wind, and made my glad heart deeply joyless.' The world-seeing Giv came down from his horse and called down blessings on the brave king. May your days and nights be blessed, and the heads of those who wish you harm be cut off. For the Judge, God, has granted you stature, a throne, wisdom, and glory, with talent and noble birth. They came down from the heights toward the hall, minds full of thought, souls searching for the way. When they returned to Farangis, they spoke for a while about the long road ahead. So that their plans would stay hidden and no one would learn their secret. When Farangis saw the face of Behzad, the horse, tears blurred her cheeks from sight. She laid her face against its mane and chest, and remembered Siyavash's grief again and again. When she had let the tears from her eyes fall freely, she turned lightly toward her hoarded treasure. In her hall she had a hidden treasure that no one in the world knew of. It was a treasure heaped with gold coins, with armor and abundant rubies. The same store held maces and horse armor, daggers, swords, and heavy clubs. She opened the treasure before her son, her face bloodied, her heart worn with pain. She said to Giv: O you who have suffered so much, look and choose from these jewels what you want. From the coins and royal gems, from rubies and the jewel-studded crown. The warrior kissed the ground before her and said: O greatest of ladies, We are all your guardians, and this treasure is yours; sacrificing our lives and toil is for your sake. Through you the earth becomes the spring of paradise; through you the heavens give birth to good and ill. May the world be a servant to your son, and the heads of those who wish him harm be laid low. When Giv's eye fell on the goods, he chose Siyavash's fine coat of mail. From the gems they found the most precious, they took as much as they could carry. Also the helmet and the rich horse armor, weapons worthy of a warrior. The king sealed the treasure securely and made ready for the road across the desert. When this was done, they saddled those swift, blessed steeds. Farangis set a helmet on her head, and all three rode off like the wind. The chiefs headed eagerly toward Iran, secretly, softly, step by gentle step. The whole city filled with talk that Khosrow had set out for Iran. This news did not stay hidden even a moment; someone came to Piran and told him, That the proud Giv had come from Iran to the clear-hearted, valiant king. They had turned toward the land of Iran: Farangis, the king, and the battle-seeking warrior. When Piran heard this, he grew heavy with grief and trembled like a leaf on a tree. From his best warriors he chose Kolbad, along with Nastihan and brave Pulad. He ordered three hundred Turkish riders, and they galloped off to that battlefield. 'Raise Giv's head on a spear,' he said, 'and Farangis must be buried in the earth.' 'Bind the wretched Kaykhosrow, that unlucky star, and lay waste his land.' With a force like this, bold and young, the two warriors rode out, wide awake. Farangis, along with her weary-eyed son, had laid their heads down in sleep. Worn from the long road and nights of hardship, Giv stood as guard for the young king. Two of them slept while Giv, weary and fierce, kept both eyes fixed on the riders' path. Giv's horse was armored in its barding, fully equipped as brave men's mounts should be. A coat of mail on his body, a helmet on his head, his heart aroused, his body ready to die. When from afar he saw the army's dust, he struck out and drew his sword from its sheath. He let out a roar like a thundercloud that darkened the mind and eyes of the lion. He swept among the riders like the wind; from his fury the dust turned deep blue. Now with his dagger, now with his mace, he poured down iron from a great height. Under the blows of brave Giv's club, the warriors grew sick of the fight. Giv's heart laughed with the strength of his rage; what seemed a mere spring loomed to him like a sea. After that they closed in around him, an army fierce as a raging lion. The battlefield became a forest of spears that hid the light of sun and moon from sight. The lion's heart grew heavy in that reed-thicket, yet with blood he turned that thicket to a tavern of wine. Giv struck many of them down, and those riders grew helpless before his valor. Warrior Nastihan said to Kolbad, 'This is a mountain of granite, not mere neck and shoulder.' All of them, wounded and beaten, turned back toward the proud, haughty Piran. Every hollow and plain was full of the slain, and the earth had turned red as redbud blossoms with blood. When the brave man came to Kaykhosrow, his chest and hands bloodied like a lion's. He said to him, 'O king, keep your heart glad, free your mind from worry.' 'An army came against us to fight, with sharp-clawed men like Kolbad and Nastihan.' 'Those who survived went back in such a state that one must weep for their necks and shoulders.' 'Apart from Rostam, I know of no rider in Iran who could stand in battle against me.' The pure-hearted Khosrow rejoiced at his words, praised him greatly and blessed him. They ate whatever they could find and hurried off along an untraveled path. When the Turks reached Piran, they arrived wounded, wretched, and weeping. Piran flared up and said to Kalbad: such a strange thing cannot be hidden. What did you do against Giv, and where is Khosrow? Tell me the truth, how do things stand? Kalbad said to him: O commander, if I open my mouth before you, and tell you what brave Giv did to our warriors, your heart will turn away from the battlefield. You have seen me often among the army, and you have approved of the way I fight. That famous man tore more than a thousand maces from my grip. You would think his head had become an anvil, his chest and forearms of elephant ivory. I have watched Rostam in combat many times, and I have heard tales of other war heroes too. But I never saw anyone so unyielding under blows, nor so relentless in the strain and clash of battle. At every moment he grew fiercer and more furious, roaring afresh like a raging elephant. Piran flared up and said: enough, it is shameful to speak of anyone this way. So much talk over a single horseman? Don't turn what men do in battle into legend. You went out, and the renowned Nastihan, with an army that fought like fierce lions. Now you have made Giv into a drunken war elephant; among the champions your name has been brought low. When Afrasiab gets word of this, he will cast down the crown of his kingship, hearing that two bold, mounted commanders with such an army, on the field of war, turned their backs before a single rider who killed many of the brave Turks. You will face endless taunts and mockery; you were no man of battle, mace, or war drum.

Piran picked out a thousand riders, every one a fighter, every one renowned. He told them: Move fast; grip the reins of your swift horses tight. Ride day and night like raging lions; do not slacken your pace on the road. For if Giv and Khosrow reach Iran, even the women there will turn into lions. Nothing will be left of this land, water or soil, and that wound will grieve Afrasiab's heart. At his words they lifted their heads and galloped without pause, day and night. They found neither rest nor sleep, and word of this reached Afrasiab. So they went on until they came to a deep river, and the army scattered like warp and weft. Its bed was deep and its width narrow; crossing it was a hard and dangerous task. Farangis was sitting on watch, while on the other bank Giv and the king lay asleep. From that spot Farangis looked out and saw the banner of Turan's commander. She ran to Giv and warned him, cutting short the sleep of the sleepers. She said: Rise, man of hardship, for the hour of flight has come for you. If they find you they will take your life, and twist our hearts with grief for you. My eyes and my son's will fill with tears as I am carried bound before Afrasiab. And after that I cannot tell what harm will come; no one knows the secret of the high heavens. Giv said to her: Greatest among noblewomen, why have you troubled your spirit so? Climb to the steep heights with the king, and fear nothing from Piran or his army. The victorious Lord of the world is my helper; the star of fortune rests in my arms. Kaikhosrow said: Warrior, now my case has grown a long burden upon you. I have escaped the snare of ruin; do not fling yourself again into the dragon's jaws. Now we must go out onto the plain and let the sun scatter their blood with the sword. Giv said: Proud king, the whole world longs for your name. My father is a hero and so am I; we would never twist away from the throne's cause. I have seventy-eight brothers; but the whole world seems empty once your name is gone. There are many heroes but only one king; what use are they all if the one is lost? If I am killed, there will be another; but a crowned head, once gone, cannot be replaced. If you were destroyed here, far from home, I would see no one fit for the crown and throne. My seven years of toil would blow away in the wind, and I would bring shame upon my lineage. Choose the high ground and watch the army; let the Creator of the world keep me in mind. He put on his armor and came out like a lion, his trained warhorse beneath him. On this side the king, on that side the army; between them ran the river, blocking the way. Giv roared like spring thunder, calling out the commander of the enemy host to combat. When Piran heard, he answered with insults: You demon-born, ill-natured wretch! Since you have come alone to this battlefield, coming so boldly against a whole army, now the tip of the javelin will be your food, and the falcon's claw your shroud. Even if a single rider were a mountain of iron, a thousand would swarm around him like ants. An ant is small yet its head grows dizzy in the crush; and these are not ants but armored men and horses. They will tear that mail to shreds upon your body, and drag your carcass to the dust. The raging lion told a parable: when a deer's time is near, fate counts out its every breath; it comes running and passes right before me. Fate has brought you now before me, and before this gathering of famous men. Giv said to him: Lion of a commander, it would be fitting if you dared to enter the water. You would see what one skilled rider can bring down upon your head, O renowned one. You are a thousand and I am one famed warrior; yet I will bring the heads of the proud low. When I swing my heavy, spinning mace, I will bring all their chiefs under my feet. When Piran heard this his fury rose; his heart filled with blood and his eyes with tears. He spurred his horse, pressed his thighs to its flanks, and lifted the heavy mace to his shoulder. As he came from the plain into the river like a ship, he offered thanks to the Giver of good. Giv made no haste in the test, so that the commander could climb out of the water. Then Giv turned down from the height to the lowland, seeming to flee from the brave commander. Once he had drawn him far from the water and his army, he flung his battle mace into the saddle. As the tall hero fled before him, Giv loosed the coiling lasso from his saddle-strap. He drew near to fight with Giv, and the world went dark as black night. Giv, of the proud neck, wheeled around, cast the lasso and looped it fast. The commander's head fell into the noose; with the coil of the lasso Giv lifted him from the saddle. He drove him on foot before him, in scorn, and hauled him swiftly to the river's edge. He threw him on the ground and bound his hands, put on his armor, and mounted his horse. Gripping the banner in his fist, he rode to the bank of the Golzariyun. When the Turks saw the banner of their commander, they were forced to advance. There rose the clamor and wailing of trumpets, the blast of brass horns and Indian bells. The world-tested Giv rode into the water like a ship driven fast by the wind. He raised the heavy mace to his shoulder, and the army stood amazed at his deeds. His rein went light and his stirrup heavy; the heads of the proud reeled with dread. With sword and with the spinning spear the guiding hero cut them down. The plain heaped up with the fallen like a mountain; those brave men were worn out by a single man. The backs of the warriors all turned toward him, as he charged like a lion into the flock. When that army fled before Giv, so dense a host, its men so valiant, they turned back so bewildered and abandoned the water, as if they had never seen an army even in a dream. Roaring, Giv reached Piran and was about to cut the head from his body. In scorn he dragged him along on foot, raging, and full of pain like one senseless. He said: This coward and faithless one has fallen into the dragon's jaws. Siyavash lost his life through this man's counsel; if he was wind then, let this one be wind too. Piran called down blessings on the king and, weeping, kissed the ground. He said: O king who seeks wisdom, shining like the blazing sun among the throng, you know my grief and my sorrow, and how for your sake I strove with the king. It would be fitting if, by your fortune and glory, I found release from the claws of this dragon. Giv looked toward Kaikhosrow to see what the brave king would command. He saw Farangis, her eyes full of tears, her tongue full of curses on Afrasiab. Then she said to Giv: Proud one, you have endured much hardship on the long road. Know that this gray-haired hero is wise, generous, and bright of soul. After the just Judge who guided us, know that it was he who saved us from bloodshed. His love has been the veil that shields our lives, and for what he has done he begs for mercy. Giv said to her: Chief among noblewomen, may your soul be blessed forever. I swore a solemn oath by the moon, by the crown and throne of my good-willed king, that if I ever got hold of him on the day of vengeance, I would make the earth purple with his blood. Kaikhosrow said to him: Lion-like one, do not go back on your oath to God. Now free yourself from the oath by a token: pierce his ear with your dagger. When his blood drips from your dagger to the ground, you will remember both the love and the enmity. Giv went and pierced his ear with the dagger, and beyond that oath spoke no harsh word. Then Piran said to the king: Kolbad has surely gone off with the army. Command that my horse be given back to me too; know that you would be granting me both life and property. Giv said to him: Bold captain of the host, why did you turn weak on the field of battle? You may get your horse back by an oath, or else I will bind your two hands with a long cord, a knot that no one will untie; only Golshahr shall be the one to loosen it. For she is the chief of your women; without her, neither your marrow nor your skin can act. The hero agreed to that, and by an oath bought back his horse and his life: that no one along the way would loosen that knot, and that Golshahr alone would arrange its undoing. Giv gave him the horse and bound his two hands, and then ordered him to mount.

When Afrasiab learned the army had come, the light of the sun went dark before his eyes. He beat the war drums, sounded the trumpets, and mounted his troops; he swept out of his palace like fire. He rode two stages as if they were one, racing forward like an arrow shot from a bow. He brought his army to the battlefield where Kolbad had gone with his own force. He saw the whole borderland strewn with his scattered troops, and men cut down everywhere he looked. He asked: this warlord and his army, when did they come from Iran to this battlefield? Did no one bring word of these fighters, that so heavy an army had crossed through here? Who carried the news to that devil's brat? May no one else have Piran's heart and mind. If the earth had been his nurse and his ruin, my two eyes would never have seen this day. Sepahram said to him: it would have been easier if your heart had been afraid of a real army. It was Giv, son of Gudarz, and him alone; no one saw a single other rider with him. The whole army was worn out by the hand of one man, while Giv, Farangis, and the prince rode on. When the commander heard what Sepahram said, an army appeared coming toward them. The general Piran was there at its front, his head, face, and neck all covered in blood. Afrasiab supposed Piran had captured Giv and was hurrying ahead in triumph. But when the king looked as they drew nearer, he saw the commander of the army wounded like that. He saw him bound to the saddle like a stone, both hands tied behind his back with a rope. He questioned him and stood amazed; grief seized him and worry took hold of his mind. Piran said to him: no raging lion, no tearing wolf, no fierce tiger, could ever stand in the line of battle the way Giv did, alone, my king. I saw such things from Giv that no worldly-wise, brave man ever sees from elephant or lion. When the day of battle blazes up for him, his very breath could scorch the crocodile in the sea. First he came in with his heavy mace, hammering like a blacksmith's sledge. With horse, mace, foot, and stirrup, the rider brought riders down from height to ruin. No rain ever poured from a cloud heavier than the sword he rained down upon their heads. When he settled into his saddle amid the carnage, you would say he had become one with a mountain. In the end the whole army turned and fled; no one but me went forward to take revenge on him. As I fled from him he flung his twisted lasso and caught me, binding me around the waist. My wits and my senses scattered; my head and shoulders came crashing to the ground. He pulled me from my horse, tied both my hands, threw me across the saddle, and mounted himself. One moment my head and feet were in the noose, the next I was bound under oaths and chains. By the life and head of the king, by sun and moon, by the creator Hormozd, by throne and crown, he made me swear such a heavy oath, and I took it once I saw that fortune had turned away. That you would tell no one to lift a hand; ride on like this, roaring, until you settle in a place. I do not know what secret the heavens hold: they mean to cut off all love from us. When Afrasiab heard his words, his eyes filled with tears of rage. He gave a shout and drove Piran from his side; Piran flinched and fell silent. Then anger rose to his head, and he opened his lips in curses and oaths, saying: even if Giv and Kaykhosrow were demon-born, even if they became a thundering cloud or a raging wind, I would bring them down from the high clouds. He struck his hand and loosed the mace from its strap. I will cut them in half with my sharp sword and give them to the fish to tear to shreds. Since Kaykhosrow now seeks out Iran, why should Farangis run along with him? With his commanders he pushed toward the Oxus, dragging his hem, his eyes weeping blood. He ordered Human to hurry, to pull his reins straight to the river's edge, for once Giv and Khosrow cross the Oxus, our sorrow and toil will scatter to the wind across the plain. The sign has come true, as the wise ones foretold, as the sage spoke long ago in ancient days: that from the line of Tur and of Kayqobad a king would rise, born of both bloodlines, who would turn the land of Turan into a thornfield, leaving no city standing on this soil. Then Giv and Khosrow reached the water, in a rush to get across. They argued with the toll-keeper about which boat at the crossing was theirs, which swift vessel had a good sail, one worthy in its beauty of Kaykhosrow. Then the toll-keeper said to Giv: to the flowing water, what is a servant and what is a king? If you must cross this river, you must send a fare to the boat. Giv said to him: ask for whatever you want, but let us pass, the army is pressing close behind. I will ask a small toll of you, he said; of these four things I will demand one: I want from you either armor, or the black horse, or a servant, or the fortunate moon-faced prince. Giv said to him: you fool who has lost his mind, speak of things that make sense. If every fare were the king of a city, you would already own a share of this whole world. Who are you to demand the king? Such empty gusts of talk, you windbag! And if you also want the king's mother, then as a toll you are asking for the crown of the moon itself. Third, the night black horse Behzad, who in a race makes even the wind seem slow. Fourth, if you seek it, the shining armor whose links you cannot count one by one. No water can wet such iron, and no fire can work its harm upon it. Neither spear nor Indian sword nor arrow can pierce it. This is the toll I demand at this crossing. Now the water is ours and the boat is yours. This is how your kingship shows its harshness to you. Giv said to him: if you are truly Kaykhosrow, you will see nothing but good from this water. Fereydun, when he crossed the Arvand river, sent his greeting to the throne of greatness. The whole world became his servant, a world full of light and divine glory. Why do you worry, if you are the king of Iran, the chief of the famed and the lions among men? How could water find a way to harm you, you who carry glory and grandeur and grace the throne? Even if I drown, or your mother drowns, no harm should ever touch your head. The purpose of the world was born through your mother, for the throne of kings had stood empty. My mother, too, bore me for your sake, so do not let this matter weigh on your heart at all. For I have no doubt that Afrasiab will come charging down to the edge of this river. He would hang me alive upon the gallows in scorn, and Farangis along with you, my king. He would cast you into the water for the fish to devour, or trample you beneath his horses' hooves. Kaykhosrow said to him: this is all there is; my refuge is God, who answers those in need. He climbed down from his eager steed, and pressed his face down against the earth. He said: you are my back and my shelter; you are the one who shows me my counsel and my way. My soundness and my humbling are your glory; my soul and my reason are the shade of your wing. In the water you are the one who lifts my heart; on dry land you are still my guide. Kaykhosrow drove the black horse into the water, riding it like a boat toward the crossing. Behind him came Farangis and brave Giv, unafraid of the Jeyhun and its raging waters. All three crossed safely to the other side, and Khosrow the world seeker washed his head and body. There among the reeds he turned to prayer, and began to praise the Maker of the world. When all three had crossed the river, the keeper of the boat lost his wits. He said to his companions: here is a wonder no mind can imagine anything greater than this. In springtime, the Jeyhun and its rushing waters, and three armored riders with horses and battle mail, to cross this deep sea like this, a wise man would not count them among ordinary men. He grew regretful of his deeds and his words, and saw that he had ruined his own trade. He fitted out the boat with whatever he had and, catching the wind, raised its sail. He set off after the king to make amends, and when he drew near the riverbank, he brought all his gifts before the king: a bow, a lasso, and a helmet. Giv said to him, 'You senseless dog, you claimed this river would swallow a man.' 'Such a noble, gifted king asked you only for a boat,' 'and you refused. Now keep your gifts, curse them; a day will come when you'll remember this day.' The ferryman turned away so shamed that he bid his own life farewell. When he reached the ferry crossing, an army from Turan arrived at that very moment. When Afrasiab came near the river, he saw no one there, and no boat on the water. He shouted fiercely at the tollkeeper: 'How did this devil find a way across the water?' The man answered, 'O king, my father was the ferryman, and I keep the crossing.' 'I have never seen nor ever heard of anyone turning the Oxus into dry land.' 'It is spring, and this water runs with fierce waves; once you step into it, there is no escape.' The three riders had crossed as though the very air had held them in its arms. After that Afrasiab commanded, 'Hurry, launch the boats onto the water.' Human said to him, 'O king, think carefully; do not set fire to your own side.' 'If you go to Iran with these horsemen, you will step straight into the den of Gavshidan's line.' 'Men like Gudarz, like the elephant-bodied Rostam, like Tus and Gorgin and all that host.' 'It seems you have grown weary of your throne, that you would walk into the lion's claws.' 'From this side all the way to China and beyond is yours; the sun, the moon, Saturn, and the Pleiades are yours.' 'Guard Turan and your lofty throne; for now there is no fear of harm from Iran.' With hearts full of blood they turned back from the river, and a long, hard age set in upon them.

When Kaykhosrow came to Zam with Giv, the world was partly joyful and partly grieving over him. Giv sent riders in every direction, each carrying a letter from the king and from brave Giv. The letter said: the joyful world ruler has come from Turan, the crowning heir of the famed line of Kayqobad. He chose a fortunate messenger and horseman, wise, clear sighted, and loyal. He picked him from among the notables of Zam and told him everything he had heard, great and small. He said to him: go from here to Isfahan, to brave Gudarz, son of Keshvad. Tell him that Kaykhosrow has come to Zam, so that no gust of sorrow may pass over him. A swift messenger took a letter and set off on the road to Kavus the king. The foaming, wind footed camels sprang from their place like fire. Giv's bright souled messenger first came before the champion Gudarz. He delivered his message and handed over the letter; the world champion pressed the letter to his head. He wept tears for Siyavosh and heaped curses upon Afrasiab. The messenger was sent on to Kavus the king; sweat streamed from the necks of the camels. When he reached Kavus the king, a shout of joy rose from the royal court. Word spread through the world that the king's son, the world seeking Kaykhosrow, had come along the road. The commander called the messenger before him and showered jewels on him for Giv's letter. They decked out the whole world in joy and summoned musicians everywhere. After that the great ones of the realm all set out together toward Isfahan. Gudarz adorned the high palace and spread out all the royal brocade. He set up a throne worked in gold, studded with many kinds of jewels. A crown with armlets and earrings, and a torque full of kingly gems. He adorned the throne with gold and jewels, just as befits a king. The whole city was hung with festive decorations; they prepared the square and the place of assembly. The proud nobles rose up and made ready to go out and welcome him. They went eighty leagues ahead and received him according to their custom. When the commander's eye fell on the king, he saw Giv beside him on the road. When Giv appeared alongside the king, those brave riders dismounted. Pale tears poured from their eyes, and they remembered Siyavosh again and again. Gudarz praised him greatly and blessed him, saying: king of the earth, may your enemy's evil eye be kept far from you, and may the soul of Siyavosh be full of light. God, the ruler of the world, is my witness that seeing your face is my guide. If I had seen Siyavash alive, my heart could not have laughed with more joy than this. The nobles of Iran, one after another, laid their faces on the ground before him. Then they rose again in gladness; the proud man's fortune began to shine. He kissed Giv's eyes and head and said: You have drawn the hidden heavens into the open. You are the one who reads the dream and fights the war; in the hour that calls for patience, you are the steady man. They came to the champion's house, all glad and bright of spirit. For a full week they stayed, wine in hand, the feasting hall and the seats richly adorned. On the eighth day, all light of heart, they set out toward the city of King Kavus. When Kaykhosrow came before the king, the world filled with perfume, color, and ornament. The whole world was decked out with splendor; doors, rooftops, and walls were rich with treasure. In every place minstrels were seated; rosewater and wine, musk mingled with saffron. The manes of the horses were drenched in musk and wine; coins and sugar were scattered beneath their hooves. When King Kavus saw the face of Khosrow, tears fell from his lashes down his cheeks. He came down from the throne and went to him, pressing his own eyes and face against the young man's. The young world-seeker bowed low to him; then, walking proudly, they went back to the throne. The king asked much about the Turks, and about the throne of the lord of the army of Turan. He answered: That witless man rules the world through evil. For a while he tested me and questioned me, but I hid my wisdom and skill from him. I was afraid of his deeds and his ways; I shrank from the pain and grief he caused. Even if a cloud rains pure pearls, how can the killer of a father be a true friend? No priest ever summoned me by the sacred water to honor him while my father lies beneath the earth. Now Giv endured much hardship for a time; he sought me in Turan and tasted great suffering. Even if there had been no other trial than this, that he came with me from the land of Turan, two proud champions with an army came after us, swift as fire along the road. I saw such things from Giv as no idol-worshipper in India ever saw even from a raging elephant. I never imagined that a crocodile could rise from the sea to fight in such a way. After that, Piran came on like a lion, his belt tightened and a swift steed beneath him. He plunged into the water like a crocodile, as if he would burn the very earth in battle. But Giv threw his lasso over Piran's neck, and the champion's head fell into the noose. I went to plead for mercy, my king; otherwise he would have cut off his head from his body. For he was wounded by grief for his father, and our harsh words had tied his tongue. So it went, all the way to the banks of the Oxus in battle, never resting his ox headed mace. In the end he crossed the Oxus in fury, giving no thought to the water or to a boat. Anyone who has a champion like him stays forever glad and bright of soul. There was a palace of Keshvad's in Estakhr, the pride of all the noble born. When they rose from the throne of Kavus, they set out to go to the new hall. Godarz walked along with the young king until he reached that gilded rose garden. They seated him upon the golden throne and heaped many blessings upon him. The warriors of Iran fastened their belts in service, all but Tus, son of Nozar, who turned his head away. For he was the one with the war drum and the golden boots; he was the one who held the royal banner of Kaveh. That deed made Godarz hot with anger, and he sent him a sharp message. His messenger was the proud, bold Giv, who had a hero's grip and the arm of a lion. He told him: Say to Tus, son of Nozar, that this is no time to seek excuses at a moment of joy. The great ones and warriors of the land of Iran have all called down blessings on the king. Why do you rebel at the demon's bidding? Do you not see the royal glory of the lord of the world? If you defy the king's command, then a feud and a battlefield will rise between us. Giv is the bearer of my message, with the leave of this renowned assembly. Giv turned his back and left his father, his heart full of harsh words. He came to Tus the commander and said: A demon is the partner of this plan of yours. When Tus heard this, he answered thus: It is not fitting to mock me. In Iran, after mighty Rostam, I am the most exalted man of the assembly. Grandson of the bold king Manuchehr, who brought the whole world under his sword. I am the same battle seeking lion in war; I tear the heart of the elephant and the claw of the leopard. You made your customs and plans without me; you gave the world a new master. I will not agree to this business; do not tell me any tale of Khosrow. If we set a ruler from the seed of Afrasiab, good fortune will fall asleep. We do not want a king from the line of Pashang; a sheep pen and a leopard do not go well together. All these hardships you endured were wasted, for Khosrow is young and reckless. Whoever is to be the king of the earth needs merit, noble blood, glory, and faith. Fariborz, son of Kavus, of royal blood, is the one most worthy of the throne and crown. On no side does he share the enemy's lineage; he has glory and stature, a good name and justice. Giv rose up angrily from before him, for he found Tus's knowledge and judgment half-baked. He went to Gudarz, son of Keshvad, and said that glory and wisdom do not go hand in hand with Tus. It is as if his two eyes see nothing; he keeps choosing Fariborz. Gudarz flared up and said among the nobles: the world would be better with less of Tus in it. He had seventy-eight grandsons and sons; he beat the war drum and moved from the palace to the field. Twelve thousand fighting horsemen, all in armored mounts, rode out. From the other side came the commander Tus; they strapped the drums onto the elephants' backs. The champions of Iran girded their belts, the Kaviani banner at the head of the army. When he saw Gudarz and so vast an army that it darkened the face of sun and moon, there stood a throne on the back of a mighty elephant, gleaming turquoise, shining like indigo. The world-seeking, crowned Kaykhosrow sat upon that throne, his belt fastened for battle. Around him stood two hundred mighty elephants; you would think there was no other place in the world. Khosrow shone from that throne like the moon, a blazing ruby set upon his crown. Tus's heart grew heavy and he thought: if I wage war today, many will fall on both sides, and this feud will never be lifted from Iran. Nothing would come of it but Afrasiab's wish; the fortune of the Turks would wake from its sleep. The imperial throne would pass to them, and our days of greatness would come to an end. He sent a wise man, skilled in finding a way, to King Kavus, saying: if even one of us lays a poplar arrow to the bow on this battlefield, such a bloodfeud will rise that this very night Afrasiab will see it fulfilled in his dreams. When the king heard such words, he ordered the messenger to return to Tus and to Gudarz, son of Keshvad, those chosen and proud among the free-born nobles, saying they should come to the court without their troops, just as they must, and stand before me. Tus and Gudarz went to the king and opened their mouths to speak before the throne. The king said to him: wise old man, do not drop poison into a cup of milk. Set down your sword and loosen the iron from your waist; this must not turn a gain into a loss. The commander Tus said to the king: if the king is weary of throne and crown, then the world, its greatness, the diadem and the throne of the great, should pass to his son. When a son exists, why should a grandson take the crown and sit upon the throne? Gudarz said to him: You fool, no one of sense would count you among wise people. In all the world there was never anyone like Siyavash, none so noble, so free, so patient and calm. Now this seeker of the world is his son; in face and skin you would say he is the very same man. Though on his mother's side he descends from Tur, he still comes from royal stock and will not stray from justice. In Turan or Iran, who is his equal in valor? Why do you speak such raw and empty words? Your two eyes have not even seen his face, that stature and height, that kindness of his. He crossed the Jayhun without seeking a boat, by royal glory and by sound judgment. Just as Fereydun crossed the Arvand River and never stepped down into a boat. Through his manliness and divine grace, the eye and hand of evil turned away from him. You are of Nowzar's line, not a stranger; your father was sharp, but you are mad. If my weapon were in my hand right now, your chest and shoulder would be drenched in blood. Tus said to him: Old man who has seen the world, speak on, but let your words be pleasing to the heart. If your sword can split an anvil, my spear can pierce the heart of Mount Qaf. And if your mace has weight and force, my arrow can sew shut the heart of the sun. And if you descend from Keshvad, I am Tus, son of Nowzar, a great man and a prince. Gudarz said to him: Say no more, or I will lose all respect for you. He said to Kavus: World-ruling king, do not turn your heart from custom and the right path. Call before you the two worthy princes; both are young and fit for the throne. See which of the two is worthy, the one who carries stature and divine glory. Hand him the crown and keep your heart glad, for in him you look upon a royal son. Kavus said to him: This is not wise counsel, for both are equally dear to my heart. If I choose one of them as I would, the other's heart will fill with resentment toward me. I will arrange a task so that neither of the two takes offense at me before this gathering. Our two sons must now go, each with his own troop, all the way to Ardabil. To the border land where Fort Bahman stands, where there is strife with the demon all year long. It suffers from the fire-worshipping demon; no one can settle on that border. Whichever of them takes that stronghold by the sword, from him I will not withhold the royal throne. When Gudarz and Tus heard these words, the plan the wise commander had laid down, They both agreed to this; no one could think of any better plan than that. On this single decision they set their hearts at ease, then rose and left the king's presence. When the sun lifted its head from the constellation of the Lion, the sky pulled the night down beneath it. Fariborz, with Tus son of Nozar in a rush, came before the king at that hour. The shrewd Tus said to the king: I will carry the war drum and the elephants alongside the commander. I myself will bear the royal Kaviani banner and turn the enemy's ruby face to the color of violets. So now, from the court of the king, I will load the baggage and set the army marching. Behind them Fariborz, the drum, and the banner, the air turned violet-dark from the horses' hooves. When the son already holds the royal glory and grandeur, the grandson need not gird himself for battle. The king said to him: even if you lead the army forward, fate will not swerve from its own way. By the will of the Lord of the sun and moon, victory and power can be made ready. If this is Fariborz's decision, then muster the army and do not sit idle. Tus set out with the Kaviani banner, golden boots upon his feet. Fariborz son of Kavus at the center, with Tus, the elephants, and the army in the vanguard. When they drew near to Bahman Fortress, the very ground seemed to blaze up like fire. Tus advanced with a battle-hungry army and pressed swiftly toward the fortress. The rampart of the fortress towered into the air; no one thought it possible to fight so high. The spearheads glowed from the heat, and the warrior burned inside his own coat of mail. You would say the whole world was made of fire; the very air was the snare of the defiant devil. The commander said to Fariborz: a man, when he comes to the field of battle, with heavy mace, with sword and lasso, tries to strike some harm against something. But there is no path around this fortress, and no one, my king, has the heart to face such fire. It scorches a man beneath his armor; his enduring body is set ablaze. For a whole week they circled around it, yet with their own eyes they could find no gate. In despair they turned back from the fight; no fruit came from the toil of that long road.

Word reached the noble warriors and old Godarz, son of Keshvad, that Tus and Fariborz had turned back, unable to climb up to the fortress. The elephants were arrayed, a great roar rose, and the young king's army came forth. A golden throne, inlaid with emeralds, was set upon an elephant and fastened tight. Around him flew a violet banner, and on his feet were shoes of gold. The world seeker sat upon the golden throne, a crown on his head and a mace in his hand. Two ruby armlets and a golden collar, gems set into the gold. The army marched forward troop by troop, until the ground swelled like a mountain from the horses' hooves. When he neared the fortress he mounted his horse, put on his armor, and girded his waist. He called for a scribe there in the saddle and ordered a letter written with praise. They wrote it in the old Pahlavi script with amber ink, as befits a king's letter. It said: This letter is from a servant of the Creator, the renowned world seeker Kay Khosrow, who broke free from the bonds of the evil Ahriman and turned his clean hand toward God, away from every wrong, for He is the eternal, supreme God, the Lord who grants goodness and shows the way, Lord of Mars and Saturn and the sun, Lord of glory and Lord of strength. He gave me the throne and the royal glory of kings, the body of an elephant and the claws of a raging lion. The whole world is mine to rule, from the constellation of the Bull to that of the Fish. If this fortress is the home and land of Ahriman, it is an enemy in the heart of the world's Creator. By the glory and command of holy God, I will crush it all to the dust with my mace. And if this stronghold belongs to sorcerers, I need no army against mere magic. When I bring the coils of my lasso to bear, I will bind the sorcerers' heads in chains. And if the blessed angel Sorush dwells within, it is an army serving God's command. Even so, I am not of Ahriman's making; my soul and body come from glory and majesty. By God's command this place will be laid empty, for this is the covenant of kingship. Khosrow took a spear in his hand and tied the letter to its point. He raised it upright like a banner, seeking in the world nothing but God's glory. He ordered Giv to ride swiftly with the spear up to that towering wall, and said to him: Carry this wise letter to the wall of the lofty fortress. Set the letter there, call on the name of God, then turn your reins quickly and do not linger. Giv went off, the spear in his hand, his soul full of praise, a worshiper of God. When he set the letter against the fortress wall, in the name of the world seeker of Khosrow's line, he called on the good giving Creator, then spurred his swift horse away like the wind. That renowned letter vanished from sight; a roar arose and the fortress dust flew up. At that very moment, by holy God's command, a crash burst out from the fortress wall. You would have thought it was springtime thunder; a roar came from the plain and the mountains. The world turned black as a dark man's face, from the fortress wall and the dust of the army. You would have said a dark cloud had risen, and the air had grown like the maw of a lion. Kay Khosrow spurred his black horse and spoke thus to the commander of his army: Pour a rain of arrows upon the fortress; make the sky like a spring cloud. A cloud rose up raining hail, hail that brings down death from the sky. Many demons were destroyed by the arrowheads, many fell to the ground with their courage broken. Then a light broke through, and all that darkness vanished completely. The world grew bright like the shining moon, in the name of the world ruler, the victorious king. A wind rose up with blessing, and the air and the face of the earth grew joyful. The demons fled at the king's command, and the way into the fortress lay open. That king of the noble entered the fortress, together with old Godarz, son of Keshvad. Within that vast fortress he saw a city, full of gardens, squares, halls, and palaces. At the spot where that light had broken through, the top of the fortress wall had disappeared. Khosrow ordered built upon that place a dome reaching to the dark clouds. Its length and breadth were ten lasso lengths, and around it rose lofty arches. Outside, the space of two Arab horse gallops, he laid out and established the sacred fire, Azargoshasp. Around it gathered the priests, the astronomers, and the wise. In that city he lingered long enough for the fire temple to take on beauty and splendor. When a year had passed he set the army moving, loaded the baggage and mounted his troops. When word reached Iran about the king, about that divine glory and that power, the whole world was left in wonder that Kay Khosrow had gained such glory and stature. All the nobles, one by one, went joyfully to the king bearing gifts. Fariborz came to meet him with a host, an Iranian army like a mountain. When Khosrow saw him he came down from the golden throne and kissed the face of his father's brother. The king seated him on the golden throne, which was set with armlets and earrings. And Tus too came marching, with the Kaviani banner, the drums, and the golden shoes. He brought them and carried them before the world ruler, kissed the ground, and handed them over. He said to him: These drums and golden shoes, and this Kaviani banner of good fortune, look through the army and see who is worthy of them, whose it is to be commander. He offered his apologies for what had been said, and turned away from his own foolish notion. The victorious world ruler received him kindly, laughed, and seated him upon the throne. He said to him: This Kaviani banner, and that command and the golden shoes, I see no one in the army worthy of them; this task and this power befit you. Your apology is not needed now; you did not choose a stranger as your king. When the lion returned victorious from battle, having darkened the hearts and eyes of his enemies, he set his face toward the region of Pars, young and alert and seeking the crown. When Kavus the king learned of him, that the son of blessed fortune was on his way, he went to meet him with a flushed, glowing face, the old man's heart made young with joy. When Khosrow saw his grandfather from afar, he laughed and his heart leapt with gladness. He dismounted and bowed low before him, for his grandfather had longed to see him. Kavus laughed and took him into his arms and gave him the praise he deserved. From there they went back to the palace, to the throne of the crowned world ruler. When Kavus sat upon the golden throne, he then took Khosrow's hand in his own, led him forward and seated him in his own place, and called for the crown of the kings from the treasurer. He kissed it and set the crown upon his head, then stepped down from the renowned ivory throne to a lower seat. From his treasury he scattered emeralds and brought many kingly gems. He called down many blessings on Siyavash, for in his face Khosrow resembled no one but him. From the region came the nobles, the army chiefs, and the men of high worth. They hailed him as king and called down blessings, and scattered gold and gems all around. Such is the way and nature of the world: it takes with one hand and gives with the other. We suffer in this deceptive passage of life, at one moment on the heights, at another in the depths. If you can keep your heart glad, why not spend your time in joy? Take pleasure in what is sweet and give freely of what is good; do not turn the day into a wound upon your heart. He who gave to you will give to your children too, to the tree that springs up from your roots. Do you not see that His treasury is full of gifts, and He has adorned a whole world with beauty? There is no shortfall in the just Giver's bounty; His abundance has swallowed all sorrow, so grieve not.