Lo! it is chronicled by Firdusi, who, in his great epic poem, hath made
immortal the heroes and kings of Persia, that Zal in his old age had
born unto him a son of remarkable beauty. But alas! when the astrologers
cast the horoscope of this beautiful babe, they read therein that few
and evil would be the days of Shughad; that he would be the ruin of the
house of his fathers, also bringing destruction upon the land of Iran.
Now Zal was overwhelmed with dismay when this message of the stars was
communicated unto him, and he prayed continually unto Ormuzd that he
would avert this terrible fate from the head of his boy. Yea, and he
reared him carefully, sparing no pains to inculcate in the youth the
principles of truth, honor, loyalty unto his house and unto the King.
Then, when Shughad was come unto man’s estate, Zal sent him unto the
King of Kabul, who, when he saw that he was tall and handsome, and fit
in every way to sit upon the throne, showed unto him great kindness,
even giving unto him his daughter in marriage, and providing for him
bountifully.
Now the King of Kabul paid tribute unto Rustem, every year being
required to send unto the Hero of Seistan a bull’s hide as a token of
sovereignty. And alas! this was a great grievance unto his soul, for he
was proud in his spirit and desired to be bondsman unto none. So it was
not alone kindness which prompted him to take Shughad unto him as his
son, for in his heart he hoped thus to have the tribute remitted.
But behold! when the proper time came, Rustem sent his messenger as
usual to demand the bull’s hide, which made the King very angry. So, in
his disappointment, he hesitated not to express his opinion of Rustem’s
conduct unto Shughad, stirring up his mind against his brother. Then
Shughad, becoming angry and discontented also, said unto the King:
“Verily, since my elder brother hath behaved unto me thus unkindly, in
my heart he shall be unto me no more than a stranger. Let us consider,
therefore, how we may ensnare him.”
So all night the King and Shughad talked and pondered how they might rid
the world of Rustem, and at last they decided upon a scheme.
Consequently, it came to pass that presently the King of Kabul gave a
great feast, and when all had become excited with wine, behold, Shughad,
the son of Zal, began to boast of his lineage, saying:
“Verily, Shughad alone of all this great company should be toasted! Yea,
and I except not even the King, our host! For is not the Mighty Rustem
my brother? And do I not come from a long line of heroes, extending from
Husheng the Shah even unto Zal of the white hair?”
Now hearing this, lo, the King sprang up in pretended wrath, saying:
“Upstart! Thinkest thou to lord it over me, the King of Kabul? Verily,
nay! For thou art really no brother unto Rustem, since thy mother was
but a slave in thy father’s household. Therefore, boast not so loudly.”
Then Shughad, feigning great anger, hastily left the banqueting-halls,
threatening to call forth Rustem to avenge the insulting words of the
King. So, with guile in his heart, the Prince rode forth unto the palace
of his brother. And behold! after they had exchanged greetings, Rustem
said:
“And how fares it with thee at Kabul, O my brother? Art thou still happy
and contented in the King’s palace?”
Then Shughad, rejoicing at the opening thus given him, said:
“I pray thee do not speak unto me of Kabul, for the word is hateful unto
mine ears. For verily this night hath the King insulted me beyond
bearing. Yea, and thee, too, and my father! So I came away in a rage,
and never will I return until the vile words which he spake of my family
are avenged.”
Now when Rustem learned what had been spoken by the King of Kabul, he
said unto Shughad:
“O my brother, trouble not thyself concerning this matter, for verily it
shall bring thee naught but gain. Alas! ever hath the King of Kabul been
vain and arrogant of spirit, but for this he shall be humbled unto the
dust, for no longer shall he reign in Kabul, since his crown shall
henceforth grace thine own fair brow.”
So, at once Rustem set forth to avenge the wrongs of his brother, but
lo! when they were yet far from Kabul, they were met by the King, who,
bowing himself low in the dust, said unto Rustem:
“O Lord of the World! Thou beholdest before thee, with uncovered head
and bare feet, the proud King of Kabul. Pardon, therefore—thou who art
gracious as the River Nile—the foolish words of thy slave, spoken when
his head was troubled with wine. For lo! his mouth is filled with dust
and his soul with sorrow and repentance.”
Now hearing these words of humility, Rustem’s anger was appeased.
Granting unto the King forgiveness, therefore, he graciously consented
to be his guest. So a great banquet was made ready to celebrate the
reconciliation, and as they feasted the King lauded his wondrous
hunting-grounds, wherein the deer and the wild ass furnished such
excellent sport, and he invited Rustem to hunt therein for a day before
returning unto Seistan.
So Rustem, who loved the chase almost as well as the field of battle,
consented to remain the King’s guest for yet another day, for he
suspected not that poison lurked in the honey of the monarch’s words.
But alas! in a certain part of these beautiful hunting-grounds, the
schemers had caused to be dug treacherous pits, lined thickly with
swords and lances and hunting-spears, yet no man would have suspected
their existence, so cleverly were they covered over.
On the following day, therefore, the King directed the hunt unto the
place in the forest where the pits were hidden. And behold! Shughad ran
beside the horse of Rustem to show unto him the path. But when they were
come unto the place of peril, Rakush, smelling the newly-turned earth,
reared high in the air, refusing to advance. Then Rustem, thinking he
was afraid, commanded him to go forward; but Rakush, backing, refused to
give ear unto his master’s voice. Now this made Rustem angry so that
lightly he struck him with his whip, though never before in all their
long wanderings together had he done so. Then, alas! surprised and
maddened by the stroke, Rakush sprang forward, but only to fall into one
of the treacherous pits.
Now sinking into the midst of this cruel bed of pointed weapons, many a
ghastly stab and many a cut in limb and body received Rustem and his
gallant steed. Yet from this awful grave, at one prodigious spring,
Rakush escaped with his master still upon his back. But alas! what
availed that mighty effort? For, down again into another pit, yet
deeper, both fell together. And though again they rose, and yet again,
it was only to be engulfed once more, and yet again. Yea, seven times
down prostrate, seven times bruised and maimed, did Rakush struggle on,
until mounting up the edge of the seventh pit, all covered with deep
wounds, both horse and rider lay exhausted, Rustem swooning in his
agony.
But when once more the mighty Hero opened his horror-stricken eyes upon
the world, lo, he beheld Shughad his brother, smiling in triumph at his
side. Then knew he unto whom he owed this infamous treachery, and he
said:
“Thou Wicked One! Is it possible that thou, the son of Zal, hast
contrived and wrought this evil deed against thy brother? Verily thy
heart is as black as thy shadow, which shall not long darken the earth.”
Then the treacherous Shughad, trying to justify his cruel deed, said
sternly unto the dying Hero:
“Verily, God hath decreed this awful vengeance to recompense thee for
all the blood that thou hast shed in thy long life as a warrior. Not I,
but He, hath determined thy fate.”
Now at this moment the King of Kabul drew near, feigning great anger and
sorrow when he beheld the dying one. And he wailed:
“Alas the day! That the Mighty Rustem should perish so ignobly, and as
my guest! Quick, bring the matchless balm for Rustem’s cure, for the
great Champion of Iran must not be allowed to die a death so wretched!”
But Rustem, smiling scornfully, said unto the treacherous King:
“O Man of Wile! Right well thou knowest that Death, that cometh unto all
men in their turn, is the only physician that now can heal the great
Rustem of his wounds. But why should the mighty son of Zal complain of
Fate? For verily, many a mighty King hath died and left me still
triumphant, still in power unconquerable. And behold! yet there liveth
valiant Feramurz, who will be revenged upon thee for his father’s
death.”
And now the Mighty Rustem sighed, saying unto Shughad in a weak and
mournful voice:
“Verily, my spirit will soon be free! But alas! it grieveth me sore that
my faithful body may this night be food unto the wolves and lions.
String, therefore, my bow, and place it in my hands that I may appear
unto the wild beasts that would devour me, even as a live warrior, ready
to defend his life. For our father’s sake, O Shughad, refuse not thy
brother this last request.”
So, suspecting naught, Shughad drew the great bow from its case, and
placed it in Rustem’s hands, smiling with satisfaction to think that his
brother’s end was so nigh. But verily he smiled not but a moment, for
noting the strength with which Rustem gripped his bow, and the peculiar
look of his eye, shuddering with terror, quickly Shughad dodged behind a
plane-tree close at hand. But useless was the shelter, for though the
dimness of death was come over the eyes of the Hero, he yet spied
Shughad where he hid, and whiz! went an arrow, straight through the tree
and the wicked Shughad, transfixing them together. And Rustem, when he
saw the fate of his brother, was content, knowing that he could do no
more harm unto his house.
But alas! of all that mighty hunting-party not a knightly follower
escaped. For Zuara and all the others perished in the treacherous pits
of the traitor King, save only one, who quickly fled with the dire news
unto Seistan.
Then Zal, in agony, tore his white hair and rent his garments, lamenting
bitterly for Rustem, crying again and again:
“Why was I not present, fighting at his side? Why could I not die for
him? Wherefore, alas, am I left alone to mourn his memory?”
But behold! though bowed to the earth with grief, quickly the
white-haired old warrior sent Feramurz forth with a great army to avenge
the death of his father. And verily the work of the Hero was complete.
For not only did he make of Kabul a desert, but he laid low the head of
the treacherous King and all his race. Then the work of vengeance
finished, lo, he sought out the body of Rustem, and of Rakush his
gallant steed, and bare them back in sorrow unto Seistan, where they
were placed in a noble tomb.
And alas! never was there such wailing in the land of Iran as for Rustem
the Mighty. Nay, not even for the glorious Shahs of Old! And well might
it be so, for never again did Persia rejoice in such an unbroken line of
heroes, and never did she achieve such telling victories, for with
Rustem her glory departed; yea, for many long years!