Fereydun Chains Zahhak

When world-ruling Zahhak heard that talk, his blood boiled and he set out at once. When night drew its compass around the day, and dropped a dark bead over the shining sun, he ordered saddles set on the swift, keen-eyed horses that ride the wind. He came roaring with a heavy army, all fierce demons, hardened warriors. By a hidden path he seized the palace roof and gate, bent wholly on revenge. When Fereydun's soldiers learned of it, they all rushed toward that back way. They leaped down from their battle horses and clashed in that narrow place. The roofs and doorways were crowded with the townsfolk, everyone who had any skill in war. They all stood for Fereydun, for they were sick to their hearts with Zahhak's cruelty. From the walls came bricks, from the roofs came stones; in the streets flew swords and arrows and darts. They rained down like hail from a black cloud, until there was no bare patch of ground left underfoot. Everyone in the city who was young, and the old men wise in the ways of war, went over to Fereydun's forces and broke free of Zahhak's spell. A cry rose up from the fire temple: if the one on the throne is a beast, shall we, old and young, all obey him and follow his every word? We do not want Zahhak on the throne, that filthy man with serpents on his shoulders. Army and city, solid as a mountain, the whole crowd joined the fight. From that bright city a dark dust rose, until the sun itself turned the color of lapis. Then Zahhak, looking for a way out, left his troops and headed for the palace. He wrapped his whole body in iron so that no one in the crowd would know him. With a sixty-loop lasso in his grip, he climbed up onto the high palace roof. There he saw dark-eyed Shahrnaz, full of enchantment, whispering secrets with Fereydun. Her two cheeks like day, her two locks like night, her lips parted, cursing Zahhak. The fire of jealousy blazed in his brain, and he flung the lasso straight down into the hall. Forgetting the throne and even his precious life, he came down from the high palace roof. In his hand was a gleaming dagger, thirsty for the blood of those fairy-faced women. The moment his feet touched the ground below, Fereydun rushed at him like the wind. He reached for the ox-headed mace and struck his head, and the helmet shattered to pieces. The blessed angel Sorush came rushing in and said, 'Do not strike him, his hour has not yet come.' 'Since he is broken, bind him fast like stone; carry him off until two mountains close in on you.' 'It is better that his prison be inside a mountain, where none of his kin and allies can reach him.' When Fereydun heard this, he wasted no time; he fashioned a lasso out of lion hide. Swiftly he bound his two hands and his waist, so tight that a raging elephant could not break it. He sat upon Zahhak's golden throne and swept away his foul customs. He ordered a proclamation cried at the gate: everyone who has a clear mind, you should not stay armed for war; no one earns honor or shame this way. A soldier and a craftsman should not each try to master both skills at once. One works a trade, one wields the mace; the proper task for each is plain. When this one seeks that one's work and that one this, the whole earth falls into chaos. The one who was unclean is now in chains; the world had reason to dread his deeds. May you live long and be happy; go back in peace to your own work. They all listened to the words of the king, that man of restraint and power. After that all the notables of the city, everyone who had a share of crown and treasure, came with joy and gifts, their hearts wholly set on his command. Wise Fereydun welcomed them and gave each a station fitting his rank. He gave them counsel and blessed them, and remembered the Creator of the world. He said, 'This is my rightful place; under a lucky star your land is bright.' 'For the pure God raised me up from among the people, from Mount Alborz,' 'so that the world might be freed from the evil dragon by the command of my mace.' 'Since the Giver of good has shown his mercy, we must walk his road with goodness.' 'I am the master of the whole world; I cannot sit still in one single place.' 'Otherwise I would have stayed here and spent many days with you.' The great men kissed the ground before him, and from the gate rose the sound of drums. One after another the army marched out of the city, having taken nothing from it. They carried Zahhak off, bound and wretched, thrown miserably across the back of a camel. They drove him on like this toward Shirkhan; when you hear such things, call the world old. How many an age has passed over mountain and plain, and many more still will pass. Bound tight in this way, Zahhak was carried toward Shirkhan by the man of waking fortune. He was driving him on into the mountains, meaning to strike his head down. Just then the blessed Sorush came again and gently whispered a secret in his ear: 'Carry this prisoner all the way to Mount Damavand, riding hard, without a following.' 'Take with you only one who will not forsake you, who in hard times will hold you close.' He brought Zahhak along swift as a courier and chained him upon Mount Damavand. He chose a cramped spot for him inside the mountain and found a cave whose depths were unseen. He brought heavy spikes and drove them where they would not touch his brain. He fastened his hands to that mountain wall, so he would remain in agony a long time. He hung him there in that way, his heart's blood spilling down onto the ground. So the name of Zahhak became like dust, and the world was cleansed of all his evil. He was cut off from his kin and allies, and stayed there like that, in his chains.