Lo, in the Book of the Shahs it is written, that when the tidings of the
cruel death of Siawush pierced unto the land of Iran, behold, throughout
the length and breadth of the King’s dominions there was raised unto
heaven such a mighty wailing that even the nightingale in the cypress
was silent of her song, and the leaves of the pomegranate-trees in the
forest were withered for sorrow.
As for the mighty Rustem, when he learned of the tragic fate of the
Prince so dear unto him, he was bowed to the earth with agony, so that
for seven days he stirred not from the ground, neither would have aught
of food or comfort. But on the eighth day he roused himself from the
earth, causing the trumpets of brass to be sounded in the air. And
behold! when he had assembled all his brave warriors, he marched with
them unto Iran, where, appearing before the Shah, he demanded audience.
Now when Rustem was come into the presence-chamber, he beheld the King
of Kings seated upon his throne, and lo! he was clothed in dust from his
head unto his feet, because of his grief. Yea; and all the heroes that
stood about the throne were clad in garbs of woe, bearing dust upon
their heads instead of helmets. But Rustem was not moved by the grief of
the Shah, for he remembered but too well who had driven Siawush forth
unto his doom. So pitilessly he said unto Kaikous:
“O King of Evil Nature! Verily it must be bitter unto thee to know that
with thine own hand thou hast felled the noble young cypress of thy
house, which might have grown and cast a glorious shadow over Iran. Alas
for Siawush, so noble and yet so treacherously slain! But dearly shall
his murderers pay; and lo! vengeance beginneth at the King’s palace.
Nay, tremble not, for, being the King, thou art safe from my sword. But
as for that wicked sorceress who poisoned thy mind with her charms, now
she must die; and verily all Iran will glory in her death. And now hear
me, O King, and ye heroes of Iran, for I swear unto thee that henceforth
I will know neither rest nor joy until the atrocious death of Siawush be
fully avenged. Let his murderers beware, therefore, for behold! Rustem
is upon their track.”
Now having thus unveiled his heart, Rustem strode disdainfully from out
the presence of the King, hastening at once unto the palace of Sudaveh,
who had given over Siawush unto death. And behold! the Hero found this
charming sorceress sitting upon a golden throne, in a bower that
rivalled paradise in beauty, with a coronet upon her head and her hair
floating around her in long musky ringlets.
But as Rustem beheld all this luxury and splendor, and thought of
Siawush abandoned unto the foes of his land, because of this wicked
woman, all compunction left him. Tearing her from her gorgeous throne,
therefore, quickly did he rid the world of this source of evil; nor did
he feel pity or regret when he saw her dead at his feet. For he
remembered how Siawush had pleaded for her life and how his generosity
and nobility had been rewarded.
And behold! having thus purged the earth of a part of its wickedness,
Rustem strode forth into the pure air of heaven, fearing naught. For
though well he knew that the heart of Kaikous would be torn with anguish
when he learned of the death of Sudaveh, yet would he not dare to oppose
himself unto his great Pehliva in his wrath.
So, the hand of vengeance being stretched forth, Rustem now directed his
course toward Turan, saying unto his heroes:
“Verily, this accursed land shall tremble before my mace as the earth
upon the day of judgment, and Afrasiab, the black-hearted, shall cry for
the rocks to hide him from my anger, which burneth ever fiercer.”
Thus spake Rustem, and paused not in his forced march until he was come
face to face with the forces of Afrasiab. Now the King having learned
that a great army was coming out of Iran to avenge the death of Siawush,
had sent forth Sarkha, the best-beloved, and the bravest of his sons, to
oppose the invaders, begging him, however, to have a care that Rustem,
the son of Zal, put not his life in danger.
Now when the two armies beheld one another, lo, their hate burst forth,
and the battle raged sore. And alas for Afrasiab! for in the midst of
the conflict Sarkha fell into the hands of Rustem, who spared him not,
but delivered him over unto the same death as that of Siawush, knowing
that thus would the heart of Afrasiab be torn with anguish.
And now the frenzied King of Turan, having received the golden dish
containing the blood of his son, and beheld his severed head suspended
from the gates of his palace, hastened himself to resist the conquering
career of the enemy. And behold! this new force having come nigh unto
Rustem, it came to pass that Pilsam, that was brother unto Piran-Wisa, a
warrior valiant and true, begged permission to oppose his single arm
against the Mighty Rustem. To which Afrasiab said:
“O Valiant One, subdue Rustem, and thy reward shall be my daughter and
half my kingdom.”
So, though Piran tried to dissuade Pilsam from the unequal contest, yet
went he forth and summoned Rustem to fight. But behold! hearing the
call, Gew accepted the challenge himself, Rustem being at a distance.
Then long they fought, but so superior was the activity and skill of the
Tartar that almost Gew was thrown from his horse. Luckily, however,
Feramurz saw him at the perilous moment, and darting forward, with one
stroke of his sword he shattered Pilsam’s javelin to pieces. So now
Pilsam and Feramurz fought together with such desperation that presently
both Heroes were exhausted. But at this moment Rustem, perceiving the
combat, pushed Rakush forward, calling aloud unto Pilsam:
“Ho, Puny Tartar! I am told that thou desirest to try thy strength with
Rustem. Behold! he hath come in answer to thy call.”
Now when Pilsam gazed upon the mighty warrior, wrapped about with anger,
he was afraid. Nevertheless, he proceeded to encounter him, striking
with all his might at the head of the champion. But though the sword of
the Hero was broken by the blow, not a hair of Rustem’s head was
disordered. Waiting not for a renewal of the attack, however, Rustem now
fell upon the Tartar with fury, lifting him lightly and easily from the
saddle. Then taking him by the girdle, he flung him, as a thing
contemptible, into the Tartar camp, shouting in a voice of thunder:
“Ho, black-hearted King! Here cometh thy glorious conqueror. Pray, wrap
him in robes of gold, for I fear that my mace hath made him blue. And
give unto him now thy daughter and thy treasure, thy kingdom and thy
soldiers, for is he not, indeed, a bright jewel in thy crown of
sovereignty? And hath he not added lustre unto Turan, the land of mighty
heroes?”
So spake Rustem in his anger, and so terrible was he that suddenly the
courage of the Tartars all departed from out them. Neither could
Afrasiab incite them to fresh endeavor, though he strove mightily; for
lo! the fear of Rustem the Avenger had taken full possession of their
hearts.
Then Afrasiab, shamed by Rustem’s taunts, himself appeared in arms
against the champion, and fiercely they fought for hours. Finally,
however, Rustem struck the head of Afrasiab’s horse which, floundering,
fell, over-turning his rider. Then, quick as a flash, the great Persian
sprang to seize his royal prize and wreak a perfect vengeance. But alas!
the Tartar, Human, rushed between and saved his master, who, vaulting
upon another horse, fled, murmuring unto himself:
“Alas! alas! The good fortune which hitherto hath watched over me is
asleep.”
Now thus it was that Afrasiab became a wretched wanderer upon the face
of the earth. For behold! not only did Rustem utterly demolish his
capital, but he paused not in his work of destruction until the whole
land was laid waste. And yet was the vengeance of Siawush not complete.