Now when the news of Rustem’s capture of the enchanted fortress reached
the ears of the aged Saum, at once he sent a swift messenger unto Zal,
his son, commanding that, as a reward for his valor, Rustem should now
be allowed to choose his own horse and enter upon his career as a
warrior.
Accordingly, without delay, a proclamation was sent out into all the
provinces of Persia, commanding that upon the first day of the
approaching Festival of Roses all the choicest horses in the land should
be brought in unto Zabulistan that Rustem might choose from among them
his steed of battle. Now, to the owner of the lucky horse chosen, the
reward was to be mountains of gold, but the warning was also given that
should any man hold back a steed of value on the day named, the weight
of the Shah’s displeasure would certainly fall with blighting force upon
his head.
And, oh, what a horse-fair this proclamation produced! For the fame of
it spread away beyond the borders of Persia, and as a consequence, for
weeks before the day appointed, great herds of horses were brought in
daily until, upon the hills and plains without the walls of the city,
there was an exhibition, the like of which the world hath not seen.
For, in addition to the large number of beautiful, home-bred steeds, the
hill-slopes to the south of the city were white with the tents of the
most famous breeders from Kabul and the Afghan pasture-lands, whose
choice collections of animals were truly a joy to behold. Then on the
plain, a mile or so from the gate of the city, were tethered a herd of
heavy-built, dark-maned horses brought in by a horde of half-wild
Tartars, wearing black sheepskin caps and carrying long spears. And near
unto them was a caravan of low-browed men from the shores of the
Caspian, who rode their clean-limbed, swiftly-moving animals fresh from
the freedom of the steppes, at full speed, standing erect upon their
saddles. There were, too, a number of superb Arab coursers, for which
more than one princely sum had been offered, but the patriarchal sheik
who had travelled with them from the distant valley of the Euphrates was
looking for still greater opportunities. And besides all these, there
were also scores and scores of single horses, each the flower of the
flock and the joy of his master’s life, brought in not because of the
reward, but through fear of punishment. Now, gazing upon this wonderful
collection of beautiful horses, you would have said that surely the
world had nothing left to be desired in the shape of perfect steeds. But
we shall see!
For the morning which ushered in the great Festival of Roses dawned at
last, and at a very early hour the whole city was astir. Now the
beautiful golden throne, from which Zal and Rustem were to inspect the
horses, had been placed just outside the western gate, and it was toward
this Mecca that everybody hastened. Here also the ladies of Zabulistan
were seated in the covered pavilion on the top of the wall, from which,
without being seen, they could look down upon the passing show. And
though still early, every available point of view was already crowded
with a picturesque crowd of onlookers who discussed eagerly the possible
choice about to be made by Rustem.
And finally, all being now ready, at a given signal the horses, which
had already been brought together at a convenient spot, were led, one by
one, through the long passage of armed men, directly before Rustem, the
son of Zal. And the first to pass were those of the Zabulistan herds,
strong, beautiful horses, many of them bred and reared with the one
thought of their being chosen as the Prince’s steed of battle.
“O Mighty One, behold this beauty!” cried the foremost keeper
enthusiastically unto Rustem. “Truly, never hast thou seen his like.
Why, so swift is he that the wind is outstripped and put to shame in a
contest with him, and yet he is so gentle that he will eat sugar from
thy hand!”
Smiling at the keeper’s enthusiasm, Rustem stepped forward, replying
unto him:
“A beauty he is truly, but Rustem must have strength as well as
swiftness in his steed.”
Now, thus speaking, the Prince placed his hand upon the horse to see if
it could stand that test. But the animal shuddered beneath his grasp and
sank upon its haunches from the strength of the pressure, so that,
crestfallen, his master was forced to lead him away.
And alas! so fared it with horse after horse brought forward, with those
from the home pastures as well as those from the steppes, the mountain
valleys, and the plains of the Oxus. Verily, not one of them could stand
the mighty weight of Rustem’s hand.
Then came the long-bearded, venerable old sheik from the Euphrates, and
he led forward the largest of his magnificent Arabs. And behold, so
splendid was this courser that cries of admiration from all the
spectators greeted his appearance, for seldom, even in that land of
beautiful horses, had an animal been seen which was in every way so near
perfection. Sure of success, therefore, the old sheik, smiling with
satisfied pride, said unto Rustem:
“O Seeker after Perfection, verily I perceive that naught but a
blameless steed will satisfy thee! Well, behold! here are beauty, and
strength, and swiftness, and intelligence, combined with gentleness and
affection. Step up, My Beauty, and greet thy future master!”
Now, at this, the magnificent creature stepped proudly forward, tossing
his head and coquetting as if perfectly conscious of the admiration he
was exciting. But alas! so high-spirited and mettlesome was he, that
when Rustem quietly subjected him unto the same test that the others had
undergone, he quailed and trembled, not so much because he could not
bear the weight, as that it fretted his proud spirit to feel the weight
of such an iron hand. So he also was led away.
Then, last of all, the traders from Kabul brought forward a herd of ten
which they had carefully selected for their great strength, and which
were the flower of all those bred in the Afghan pastures. But not one of
all the ten could stand the test of Rustem’s hand.
Alas! at this last failure, disappointment filled the heart of Rustem,
for he knew not what he should do for a steed of battle. But letting his
eye rove over the plain in one last grand muster, behold! he suddenly
spied beyond the tents of the Kabul traders a mare and her foal feeding
quietly upon the hillside. Now the mare was gray, and though her height
was not remarkable, she appeared as strong as a lioness. But it was the
colt that held Rustem’s eye, and little wonder, for its color was that
of rose leaves scattered upon a saffron ground. And not only that, but
it also appeared as strong as an elephant, as tall as a camel, and as
vigorous as a lion, while its eyes fairly beamed with the fire of
intelligence. Also, its tail was long and arched and its hoofs were like
unto steel, seeing which, lo, hope blazed up once more in the heart of
Rustem. Turning quickly unto the traders therefore, he said:
“O Sons of Kabul, unto whom belongeth the gray mare that feeds beyond
your tents? And whose is the colt that follows after her? Verily, I see
no mark upon its flanks!”
Then the herdsmen, shaking their heads gravely, replied unto Rustem:
“Most Gracious Prince, now thou asketh that which we cannot answer. Only
this can we say, that all the way from the Afghan valleys they have
followed us, and we have been unable either to drive them back or to
capture them. We have heard it said, however, that the name of the colt
is Rakush, or Lightning, because that he is as light as water and as
swift as fire; but we do not know his master. Men say, also, that it is
now three years since the colt hath been ready for the saddle, and many
nobles have desired to possess him, but in vain! For as soon as the
mother seeth a man’s lasso, she runneth up like a lioness to defend her
young, and will suffer no one to touch him. Now what mystery is hidden
under all this we know not, but of a truth it is safest to leave them
alone, for so savage is the gray mare, she will tear the heart out of a
lion and the skin off a leopard’s back in defence of her foal.”
Now no sooner had Rustem heard all this than he snatched a lariat from
the hand of the nearest herdsman, ran quickly forward, and threw the
noose, without warning, over the head of the startled colt. Then
followed a furious battle, not so much with the colt as with its
frenzied mother, who ran at Rustem like a wild elephant, and would have
seized his head in her teeth. But lo! the son of Zal roared at her with
so terrible a voice that the gray mare stood still in astonishment.
Quickly then, Rustem, seeing his opportunity, dealt her a mighty blow
upon the head with his fist, so that she rolled over and over in the
dust. And not in vain was this form of persuasion, for when she got to
her feet the gray mare had no desire to renew the attack, but quickly
hid herself in the herd.
So the mare having retired crestfallen from the field, Rustem tightened
the knot of the lasso, and then pressed one of his hands with all his
might upon the colt’s back. But Rakush did not bend under it; indeed,
one would have said that he was unconscious of it. Then Rustem gave a
great cry of joy, and caressing the beautiful creature fondly, he cried:
“O Rakush! Rakush! verily thou shalt be my throne, and seated upon thee,
I shall accomplish great deeds, and now away, My Beauty, away!”
So speaking, with a great bound the young Prince leaped upon the back of
Rakush, and the rose-colored steed bore him over the plains with the
speed of the wind. But when thoroughly tired he turned at a word from
his master, and came quietly back unto the city gates, where the vast
crowd cheered mightily both Rustem and Rakush.
Then Zal, well pleased that at last the desire of his son was
accomplished, said unto the men from Kabul:
“Good Herdsmen, what wish ye in exchange for this dragon? Be not afraid
to speak, for I see that he pleaseth Rustem mightily.”
But the herdsmen, turning quickly unto Rustem, replied gravely:
“If thou art Rustem, mount him and retrieve the sorrows of Iran, for his
price is the land of Persia, and, seated upon his back, no enemy can
stand before thee.”
Now thus it was that Rustem won his great war-horse, Rakush, and none
too soon, for it was not long before Iran had need of a champion, being
plunged in war and bloodshed, as you shall hear.
And first you must know that after having flourished for twice sixty
years, the good King Minuchir made ready to pass from the world. Now
being informed by the astrologers that his end was near, the Great Shah
called before him Nuder, the young Prince, and gave unto him wise
counsel. Then when he had so spoken, he closed his eyes and sighed, and
was gathered unto the tomb of his fathers. And lo! all the world mourned
for the great Shah gone.
And well might Persia mourn, for Nuder, alas, was not great and noble
like unto his father, whose wise counsel he soon forgot. And so it came
to pass that presently so great became his injustice and tyranny that
finally the nobles of the land came unto Saum the great Pehliva, and
prayed that he would wrest from Nuder the crown and place it upon his
own head. But Saum, being grieved at these words, replied unto them:
“Not so, O Men of Might, for it beseemeth me not in my old age to be
untrue to the sovereign unto whom I have sworn loyalty—I and my house.”
Then the nobles insisted, pointing out that Nuder was unworthy the
throne. But the aged Saum who for so long a period had faithfully served
his country was not at last to prove untrue to his duty. Sternly
refusing the proffered honor, therefore, he advised the nobles to return
unto their allegiance, promising to go himself before the Shah in the
interests of the people.
So Saum the aged girt on his sword, and, taking with him a large
retinue, he proceeded unto the Court, where he exhorted Nuder with
prayers and tears to turn from the paths of evil, that he might earn for
himself a glorious immortality like unto Feridoun and Minuchir, his
glorious predecessors. Now so earnest and eloquent was Saum that Nuder
listened unto his voice, and joy was abroad once more in the land.
But alas! The tidings of the death of the mighty Minuchir, and of the
unpopularity and weakness of the new Shah, spread quickly, finally
reaching even unto Turan. And there Poshang, who was of the race of Tur,
heard the news with gladness, for he decided that now was the time ripe
to take vengeance for the blood of his sire. Therefore he called about
him his warriors, and his son Afrasiab who was next unto himself in the
kingdom, and held counsel over the matter.
Now it is said of young Afrasiab the Prince that he was as strong as a
lion or an elephant, and that his shadow extended for miles; that his
tongue was like a bright sword, his heart as bounteous as the ocean, and
his hands like the clouds when rain falleth to gladden the thirsty
earth. Therefore his father found it not difficult to imbue his
chivalrous and youthful spirit with the sentiments he himself cherished
as, calling him into his presence, he said unto him:
“O my son, generous and brave, even as the great Minuchir in days gone
by took vengeance for the blood of his sire, so ought thou now to take
vengeance for thine; for I say unto thee that the grandson who refuseth
to do this act of justice is unworthy a noble ancestry.”
So, inspired by the thought of avenging old wrongs, and lured on by
ambition as well, in the council which followed, Afrasiab gave his voice
for war. But Aghriras, his younger brother, advised peace, for he said:
“Though Persia can no longer boast the prowess of Minuchir, O my father,
still be not precipitate. For behold! the great warriors Saum, and Zal,
and Karun yet live, and we have only to remember the result of the war
in which Selim and Tur were involved to be convinced that it would be
better not to begin the contest at all than to bring ruin and desolation
upon our own country. Think well, therefore, before undertaking so
mighty an enterprise.”
To this prudent counsel, however, Poshang turned a deaf ear, for he
coveted the rich provinces of Persia, even as Selim and Tur before him,
and he thought the time particularly fit and inviting to carry out his
ambitious schemes. So when the verdure of spring covered the plains the
Tartar army set forth.
Now this event could not have happened in a more unlucky hour for
Persia, since the great Pehliva Saum had just been gathered unto the
dust; and Zal, his white-haired son, tarried in his house to build him a
tomb; while Rustem was ill with the small-pox. Nevertheless, the
grandson of Feridoun, when he learned of the coming of the Tartar horde,
raised as great an army as he could, and prepared to meet the foes of
his land, which covered the ground like ants and locusts.
And presently it came to pass that the two great armies had approached
within two leagues of each other, whereupon, a Tartar champion, Barman,
by name, rode forth challenging the Persians to single combat; and as it
happened, there was no one to answer the call but the aged Kobad, the
oldest warrior in the army. Now Karun and Kobad were brothers, being
both sons of Kavah, and both leaders in the Persian army. Seeing how
unequal would be the conflict, therefore, Karun tried to dissuade his
brother from the undertaking, saying unto him:
“O my brother, go not forth to meet this giant, for should thy hoary
locks be stained with blood, thy legions would be overwhelmed with grief
and, in despair, decline the coming battle!”
But brave old Kobad resisted all the arguments and entreaties of Karun,
replying unto him:
“This body, this frail tenement, O my brother, belongeth unto death. No
living man hath ever yet gone up to heaven, for all are doomed to
die—some by the sword, the dagger, or the spear, and some devoured by
roaring beasts of prey; some peacefully upon their beds, and others
snatched suddenly from life, endure the lot ordained by the Creator. And
if I perish now, fighting against my country’s foe, doth not my brother
live, my noble brother, to bury me beneath a warrior’s tomb, and bless
my memory? And what can a soldier brave ask more?”
Now, speaking thus, brave Kobad rushed forward to the field, and the two
champions met in desperate conflict, the fearful struggle lasting all
day long. But at evening, as the combat was about to end for the day,
behold, Barman threw a stone at his antagonist with such force that
Kobad, in receiving the blow, fell lifeless from his horse.
And then was Karun furious! Bringing forward his whole army, therefore,
he at once advanced in fearful charge to avenge right speedily the death
of his brother. Then seeing this, Afrasiab himself advanced, and an
encounter ensued which was fierce and terrible.
“Loud neighed the steeds, and their resounding hoofs,
Shook the deep caverns of the earth; the dust
Rose up in clouds and hid the azure heavens—
Bright beamed the swords, and in that carnage wide,
Blood flowed like water. Night alone divided
The hostile armies.”
But the next morning the battle was renewed, and from dawn to set of sun
the terrible conflict raged. Now the carnage was so great that blood
flowed like water, and heads fell from their trunks like unto autumn
leaves, kissed by the soft south winds; and the clamor and confusion
were so mighty that earth and sky seemed blended in one.
However, of all the events of that dreadful day none was more terrible
than when King Nuder himself charged from out his army to meet the
valiant Afrasiab. Now not only did the two combatants hurl javelins at
each other, and fight until their swords were hacked like unto saws, and
their spears were shivered, but they even closed with each other like
two serpents, so deadly was the struggle. But finally, as night was
coming on, Afrasiab began to prevail, and the King had hard work to
escape with his life.
So when the javelins cast long shadows upon the plain at even-tide, the
Tartar host had won the day, and many a famous Persian chief lay dead
upon the battle-field. Howbeit, King Nuder and Karun escaped, securing
themselves by falling back unto the White Fort.
But, that same night, Afrasiab despatched one of his noted chiefs with a
body of horsemen unto Iran for the purpose of intercepting and capturing
the shubistan of Nuder; and Karun, hearing of this important move, was
all on fire to pursue the enemy and frustrate their object, wishing not
to see the helpless women and children of the King’s household in the
hands of the enemy. So, supported by a strong volunteer force, he set
off at midnight, and as fate would have it, it happened that at dawn he
fell in with a detachment of the enemy under Barman, who was also
pushing forward into Persia.
So, considering this unusually fortunate, straightway Karun, in revenge
for his brother Kobad, sought out the champion and dared him to single
combat. And so great was his fury that, throwing his javelin with the
might of a Deev, he hurled Barman violently from his horse, so that he
lay upon the ground stunned. Then Karun, quickly dismounting, severed
the head of the giant, and hung it at his saddle-bow. And this being
accomplished, he attacked and defeated the whole Tartar company, being
in full possession of the field when joined by King Nuder.
But now Afrasiab came up, and so again was the battle renewed. Now from
morning until evening the conflict raged so fiercely that the ground
could not be seen for the dead, and in the end the Persians suffered a
great defeat. But, most unfortunate of all, King Nuder again fell into
the hands of the Tartar chief, and long they fought, but finally
Afrasiab succeeded in grasping his royal opponent by the girdle and,
furious, dragged him from his foaming horse, and carried him off a
prisoner.
But worse was to come, for when Afrasiab learned of Karun’s valorous
deed, and that as a consequence, not only Barman, but many of the
bravest of his warriors were slain, in a fit of rage, he slew his royal
prisoner, and also many of the thousand brave warriors who fell into his
hands with Nuder; and Persia was without a King.
And presently it came to pass that Afrasiab himself sat down upon the
throne of light, proclaiming himself lord of Iran. And not only this,
but he required all the people to do homage unto him, and to pour gifts
before his face. But the people would not listen unto his voice, and in
their distress they sent messengers unto Seistan, asking counsel of the
great Pehliva. Then Zal, hearing of the sad plight of Iran, cast aside
his sorrow for Saum, his father, and replied thus unto the messengers:
“O Men of Iran, verily all my days have I feared no enemy save only old
age, and now it is come upon me; for my back is bowed, and I can no
longer wield the sword as in former years, but, thanks unto Ormuzd, the
old stump hath put forth a noble shoot, and, therefore, my son Rustem
will do all that can be done to succor Iran from her foes, for he is
strong and courageous, and is now ready and longing for battle.
Wherefore, be of good cheer!”
Then Zal, dismissing the messengers, called before him his son and said
unto him:
“O Hero of the House of Saum, verily thou art strong as an elephant, and
thy courage is as that of the lion who defendeth her young.
Nevertheless, O my son, thy lips still smell of milk, and thy heart
should be going out after pleasure instead of battle, for thou art yet
but a youth. But alas! the times are perilous, and Iran looketh unto
thee for succor; so the time is come when I must send thee forth to cope
with heroes, both thou and Rakush thy steed! And, armed with thy
grandsire’s famous club for thy mace, I mistake me if thou spreadest not
consternation among the Tartar host. What sayeth the proud son of Zal?”
Now at this Rustem smiled. Then drawing near unto his father he said:
“O my noble father, with my grandsire’s mighty club I slew the King’s
white elephant. Hast thou forgotten that? And also how I took the
enchanted fortress? Verily, I know that I am young, but it would be a
disgrace if I were to be afraid of Afrasiab and his warriors, and
verily, I am not afraid. For, seated upon Rakush, and armed with my
grandsire’s mace and helmet, my heart telleth me that I shall not
disgrace the house of Saum the Hero. Give me thy blessing, therefore,
and send me forth. Then shall Persia be delivered from her foes.”
Now Zal’s heart laughed within him for very gladness when he heard these
words of manhood from his son, and immediately preparations were made to
take the field, a large army being raised and equipped by Rustem.
But, though Afrasiab heard of the preparations being made by Zal and
Rustem to come out against him, the news disturbed him not at all, for
he said:
“Verily, why should we fear? The son is but a boy, and the father is
old; therefore, it will be simply play to vanquish these heroes, so let
us feast and be merry!”
So they feasted, hearing not as they made merry over their wine the
steady tramp, tramp of the approaching army, which daily drew nearer,
and of whose might they dreamed not.
Now it was the time of roses, when Zal led forth his host against the
offspring of Tur, and the meadows smiled with verdure, filling all the
air with fragrance. At the head of the mighty multitude marched Rustem,
the flag of Kavah floating o’er him gloriously. But White-haired Zal was
not at his side, for he marched in the midst of the men, while Mihrab
and Gustahem led the two wings. Also there followed after Rustem a
number like the sands of the sea, and the sounds of cymbals and drums
made a noise like unto the great day of judgment. So marched they until
they came near unto the Tartar camp. Then, assembling his veteran
chiefs, Zal said unto them:
“O my Brave Warriors, valiant in fight! Behold, we have here a great
army; we have also daring chiefs and wise counsellors; but we suffer a
great disadvantage because that we have no King. But rejoice and be not
dismayed, for a Mubid hath revealed unto me that at Mount Alborz there
yet liveth one of the royal race of Feridoun, unto whom belongeth the
throne; and that he is a youth wise and brave, and a lover of justice
and truth.”
Having thus spoken unto the chiefs, behold, Zal next addressed himself
unto Rustem, and he said:
“My son, I pray thee depart at once for Mount Alborz, neither tarry by
the way. And when thou art come unto the mountain, do homage unto Prince
Kaikobad, and say unto him that lo! the army is asking for its King. We
shall expect thy return with the Prince within fourteen days.”
So, with great joy, Rustem leaped upon the back of Rakush, and rode off
at full speed. Now he had gone but a short distance when a number of
Tartars who had posted themselves upon the road, seeing the young hero
galloping toward them, attacked him. But Rustem, club in hand, fell upon
them with fury, striking many to the ground, and driving the rest before
him, so that they returned unto Afrasiab full of terror.
Meanwhile, Rustem, tarrying not, rode on until he was come unto Mount
Alborz, unto a spot where he beheld a splendid palace standing in a
beautiful garden whence came the sounds of running waters. Trees of tall
stature uprose therein, and under their spreading shade, beside a
gurgling fountain, there was placed a throne upon which sat a youth of
singular beauty. And circled round about him were nobles, girt with red
sashes of might, and they paid homage unto the youth.
Now beguiled by the charm of the place, which was really a paradise as
to perfume and beauty, Rustem drew rein for a moment, and when those
within the garden beheld it, they came out unto him, saying courteously:
“O noble youth, thou appearest to have ridden fast and far! Descend from
off thy horse, therefore, and drink a cup of wine with us, for we would
greet thee as our guest.”
But Rustem, thanking them, refused the courtesy, saying unto them in
explanation:
“Unfortunately, O gracious Pehliva, my errand is one that demandeth
haste. For lo! the borders of Iran are encircled by the enemy, and in
every house there is mourning because that the throne is empty of a
King. Wherefore, I may not stay to taste of wine.”
Hearing this, the nobles no longer sought to detain Rustem, but said
graciously unto him:
“Verily, if thou art on thy way unto Mount Alborz, brave youth, tell
unto us thy mission, for we are of those who guard its sides.”
Then Rustem, satisfied as to their integrity, replied unto his
questioners:
“Behold! I seek upon Mount Alborz a King of the pure royal race, a youth
who reareth high his head. His name is Kaikobad, and if ye know aught of
him, I pray that ye give me tidings as to where I may find him.”
Now at this the youth upon the throne arose, and said unto Rustem:
“Sayest thou, O Pehliva, that thou seekest Prince Kaikobad? Verily, he
is well known unto me, and if thou wilt graciously enter this garden,
and rejoice my soul with thy presence, surely I will give thee tidings
concerning him.”
So Rustem, at this promise, quickly dismounted from off the back of
Rakush, and hastened to where the nobles were congregated by the
fountain. Then the youth who had called unto him took his hand and led
him unto the steps of the throne, and, pouring out wine, he drank to his
guest, giving also unto Rustem. Then this ceremony being ended, he said:
“O Valiant One! Why seekest thou Kaikobad? At whose desire art thou thus
sent forth?”
Then Rustem replied:
“O Prince, I bring unto Kaikobad good tidings, for the nobles of Iran
have chosen him to be their King. And lo! my aged father, Zal, hath sent
me with all speed to pray the young King to hasten unto his own, that he
may lead the host against the enemies of Iran.”
Now the youth listened attentively unto Rustem; then, smiling, he said:
“O Son of the White-haired Zal! Rejoice, for thy quest is ended, since
thou beholdest in me Kaikobad of the race of Feridoun.”
Then Rustem, bowing his head, kissed the ground before the Prince,
saluting him as Shah. And Kaikobad, calling for a cup of wine, touched
it with his lips in Rustem’s honor. Then Rustem also drank, crying
loyally:
“May the Shah live forever! May he bring destruction unto the enemies of
Iran, and reign gloriously for a thousand years!”
And now music rent the air, and shouts of joy from the nobles, because
that the King was come into his own. But when silence was once more
restored, the young Shah opened his mouth and said:
“O Nobles of Iran, hearken unto my dream, which is now come true, and
you will know why I called upon you this day to stand in majesty about
my throne. Behold, last night in my sleep, suddenly from out the blue I
beheld two falcons, white of wing, flying toward me by way of Iran; and
in their beaks they bore a sunny crown which they placed upon my head.
And lo! here is Rustem, come out unto me this day like a white bird; and
his father, the nursling of a bird, hath sent him, while the sunny
diadem is the crown of Iran.”
Now all marvelled at the dream, and Rustem said:
“Surely, O King, thou art chosen of Ormuzd, and blessings will be
showered upon Iran while thou art seated upon the throne of light! But
since there is now need for haste, I pray thee let us tarry no longer,
for the enemy is at the door.”
So Kaikobad swung himself upon his steed of war, and in yet the same
hour they set out with their followers, toward Iran. And they rode day
and night without stopping until, having left the glorious hills far
behind them, they were come unto the green plains, already clad in all
their spring beauty. Whereupon, being come unto the outposts of the
enemy, Kaloun, the great Tartar champion, came out to attack them, and
when the King saw him and his ugly-looking followers, he was for giving
battle. But Rustem said:
“O Lord of Iran, truly it becometh not thy greatness to honor such a
foe. And, moreover, my horse and my club, with God on my side, will be
enough, I think, to settle this handful of the enemy.”
Now so speaking, and waiting not for reply, Rustem gave Rakush the rein,
and made a dash for the Tartars; and fearful was the onslaught! For
coming up with the enemy, the hero, catching one trooper from his horse,
struck another with the man as if he were a club, dashing out his
brains. Then one by one he tore the riders from their saddles, dashing
them to the ground with such force as to break their skulls, and necks,
and backs. And finally it came the turn of the great champion also to
feel the wrath of Rustem. Reaching out his hand, therefore, quickly he
caught hold of Kaloun’s spear, tore it from him, and with it struck him
from his saddle. Then as he lay upon the ground, Rakush trampled upon
him until he was naught but a mass of clay. Now when the remaining
Tartars saw their chief treated in this fashion, they thought that a
demon had broken his chain, and was riding about with a club and a lasso
fastened unto his saddle; so being filled with terror, they turned their
backs and fled.
Then, having given the enemy somewhat to report unto Afrasiab, Rustem
rode back unto the King, and they continued their journey. And that
night, in the darkness, Rustem led the “Hope of Iran” safely through the
enemy’s line within the tents of Zal. And after this, seven days they
feasted and counselled together, but on the eighth day the crown of Iran
was placed upon the head of Kaikobad, who mustered the army and led it
forth against the Tartar host.
And then, what a conflict! Fierce and terrible it raged for days, and
many were the deeds of valor performed by both Iranian and Turk. But the
men of Turan prevailed not, though Afrasiab made one terrible onslaught
in which so great was the clamor and confusion that it seemed as if
heaven and earth had closed in deadly conflict, the result of which
would be victory for the enemy. Now the spectacle was magnificent,
awe-inspiring, and terrible. For, what with the clattering of hoofs, the
shrill roar of the trumpets, the rattle of the brazen drums, and the
vivid glitter of spear and shield, there was produced a scene of
indescribable tumult and splendor, while the neighing of the steeds of
battle, the cries of dying men, and the blood which flowed like water,
testified to the deadly work being done by the Tartar King, who beheld
the crown of Iran just within his grasp.
But the bravery of Afrasiab upon that dreadful day was as nothing beside
that of Rustem. Seemingly everywhere on the field at the same time, so
terrible was the destruction which he caused that, verily, you would
have said he was war incarnate. Now his power was that of a hungry lion
which causeth all men to flee; neither could his strength be broken, for
his shadow extended for miles, and, unaided, he performed deeds of
prowess of which no hero e’er dreamed, so that from this time forth men
named him Tehemten, which meaneth “the strong-limbed.” But behold! when
the conflict had lasted for some time, as the battle ebbed for a moment,
Rustem said unto Zal:
“O my father, where think you hideth Afrasiab? What dress doth he wear,
and what is his standard? for verily I see him not! Why doth he not
stand forth that I may meet him in single combat?”
Then Zal, laying a detaining hand upon his son, said gravely:
“Listen, O my son, and stick not thy hand in the lion’s jaws! For truly
this young Tartar, Afrasiab, rageth in the conflict with the fury of the
lion and the crocodile; yea, he fighteth in the saddle like a
sharp-fanged dragon; and in his wrath, as he wieldeth his bright
scimitar around him, he staineth the earth with blood. Beware of him,
therefore, for black is his banner, black his coat of mail and the plume
upon his helmet, and behold, woe followeth ever in his train.”
Now, hearing this, Rustem quickly loosened his father’s detaining hand,
saying unto him earnestly:
“Yea, and black is his heart also, O my father, for he murdered his
gentle brother. Dragon or Demon, therefore, I fear him not, for Heaven
is not his friend. Let him come forth, therefore, and soon we shall see
unto whom Ormuzd giveth the victory.”
Then away galloped Rustem, and as he rode he shouted his terrible
battle-cry which caused the enemy to flee before him like fire before
the wind. Now noting the havoc caused by the youth, Afrasiab,
astonished, said unto his chiefs:
“O Men of Turan, what dragon is this who scoureth the plain, causing my
warriors to flee before him? Verily, his claws need trimming!”
Whereupon, the nobles, surrounding Afrasiab, said eagerly:
“What! Hast thou not then heard? Yonder roaring lion is Rustem, the
mighty son of Zal, and verily, his power is that of a thousand Deevs!
Seest thou not the club that he wieldeth with such deadly force? Lo, it
is that of Deev-fighting Saum, his grandsire, and the youth seeketh
renown, even as that illustrious Pehliva. And much we fear, O Afrasiab,
that if his power be not speedily broken he will carry all before him.”
Now, having heard this report, Afrasiab galloped straight unto the front
of his army where, being seen by Rustem, he was at once challenged to
single combat. With a fierce cry of joy, then, the warriors closed, and
long and fearful was the struggle. At last, however, Rustem deftly
caught Afrasiab by the girdle, and dragged him from his saddle,
intending to carry him thus captive unto Kaikobad as a trophy of his
first day’s fighting. But, what with the weight of the King, and
Rustem’s mighty arm, the leather of the girdle broke, and Afrasiab fell
headlong to the ground, whereupon he was immediately surrounded and
rescued by his warriors, but not before Rustem had snatched off his
crown, which together with the broken girdle he bore off in triumph.
Meanwhile, Afrasiab, having been mounted by his chiefs upon a swift
horse, succeeded in making his escape, owing to the great confusion, and
his army was left to shift for itself. As a consequence, in the general
engagement which now took place, it fared ill indeed with the enemy, for
the Persians, fired by the example of Rustem, performed prodigies of
valor, many a brave hero on this field fighting his last fight for Iran.
But, among them all, no one could compare with Rustem. On that
tremendous day, with sword and dagger, battle-axe and noose, he cut, and
tore, and broke, and bound the brave, slaying and making captive with
his own hand as many as a whole army. It is even said that at one fell
swoop more than a thousand fell before his life-destroying sword, and
that, witnessing this feat of supernatural power, the Tartar hordes fled
in dismay, their black banners trailing in the dust, and with no sound
of trumpet or drum to indicate the course of their flight.
So, in this sad plight, the conquered Tartar legions pursued their
noiseless retreat unto their own land. But the Persians, when they
beheld the enemy vanish as the mist, fell slowly back unto the capital,
where the victory was celebrated with great pomp and splendor, Kaikobad
rewarding the valor of Rustem by appointing him captain-general of the
armies under the title of the “Champion of the World,” and also giving
unto him a golden crown, carrying with it the privilege of giving
audience while seated upon a golden throne.
But alas for Afrasiab! With a heavy heart he returned unto his father,
in bitter humiliation communicating unto him the misfortunes which had
overtaken him. And he said:
“O my father, verily we acted not wisely in provoking this war. For lo!
there hath arisen in Iran, from the race of Saum the Pehliva, a youth
who cannot be matched anywhere, either in strength or valor or
prowess—for hath he not utterly subdued thy legions? Yet now he is but a
mere weanling! I ask you, therefore, to consider what is likely to come
to pass when he reacheth his full vigor?
“Now well thou knowest, O my father, that thy son is no weakling, but a
hero desiring to possess the world, and of established valor; yea, the
stay of thy army, and thy refuge in danger, yet before this young dragon
of war his power is as nothing, as thou shalt hear.
“For behold! when in the midst of battle he beheld my standard, like a
crocodile he sprang to the fight. Verily, thou wouldst have said that
his breath scorched up the plain, so fiery was he! Then long we fought,
but suddenly seizing me by the girdle, he caught me from my saddle with
such mighty force that hadst thou seen him thou wouldst have said he
held no more than a fly in his grasp. Then broke my golden girdle, and
down I fell ingloriously upon the dusty ground; and this was well, for
quickly then was I rescued by my body-guard and spirited away. But
knowing well my prowess, O my father, and how my nerves are strung, thou
canst conceive the wondrous strength, the marvellous power which sunk me
thus to nothing.
“And now I say unto thee, haste to make peace with Iran, else Turan is
lost, for verily the hero liveth not who can stand against this mighty
man of valor.”
Poshang listened unto this bitter tale with sorrow and dismay,
astonished, too, to hear the fierce and valiant Afrasiab speak so
hopelessly of the undertaking. Well he knew, therefore, that he must sue
for peace, and tears of exceeding bitterness fell from his eyes, as,
calling unto him a scribe, he dictated unto Kaikobad the Shah a letter,
in which he said unto the great King:
“O Glorious Shelter of the Universe, in the name of Ormuzd, the great
ruler of sun and moon and earth, greeting from the meanest of thy
subjects, who sayeth unto thee: Wherefore should we seek the land of our
neighbor, since in the end each will receive in heritage a spot no
larger than his body? Let the Jihun, therefore, be the future boundary
between Turan and Iran, and lo! not one of my people shall pass over its
waters; nay, not even in their dreams! Then shall the two nations live
at peace, and all will be well in the lands.”
Now Kaikobad smiled at this wily letter; nevertheless, he replied unto
Poshang, saying:
“O Tartar King, well thou knowest that Persia sought not this war, but
Afrasiab, who thought to subdue a masterless land, to satisfy his own
ambitions, thus following in the footsteps of Tur, his grandsire. For,
even as he robbed Iran of gentle Irij, so Afrasiab hath taken from it
Nuder the Shah; and from thee, O King, thy noble young son whom he so
cruelly stabbed! Nevertheless, since Kaikobad loveth peace rather than
war, he agreeth to thy proposals of peace; but see to it well that
Afrasiab crosseth not the Jihun.”
So peace was made between Iran and Turan, and so Rustem won his first
laurels as a warrior.