Chapter IV: Part 4

As for Rustem, he continued to grow in wonder with his years. At three, it is said, he rode upon horseback; and in his eighth year he was as tall and powerful as any hero of his time. In fact, so great was his physical perfection, that the chronicles and the poet unhesitatingly declare of him:

“In beauty of form and vigor of limb
No mortal was ever seen equal to him.”

But though twice four years had rolled over his head, the eyes of Saum had not yet been gladdened by the sight of his wonderful grandson. Finally, however, the war was over and, at the head of a splendid retinue of warriors, the aged Prince set out for Zabulistan, the home of Rustem and his noble father, the White-haired Zal.

And behold! when the old warrior was yet a day’s journey from the city, Rustem, with a gorgeous train, went forth to meet him, for he longed to hear his grandsire tell of war and battle, which his soul loved and longed for, and in his eagerness he could not wait. So his father let him go, but not alone, for as the young Prince passed through the city gates, his body-guard, mounted upon coal-black steeds, rode in advance, their golden maces and battle-axes gleaming in the sun, while above them waved the red flag of the house of Zal. Then followed the elephants, upon whose backs, seated in gayly decked howdahs, rode the lords and nobles of the land, their waving plumes and bright ensigns making them appear like a troop of gorgeous butterflies. And following these came a multitude of young warriors, the flower of Iran, riding beautiful Arab horses, with swords at their sides, and long spears resting upon their saddle-bows; and there was music, too, for the drums beat, the cymbals clashed, and the trumpets brayed, filling the air with sounds of rejoicing. Thus rode young Rustem forth to greet and do honor unto his illustrious grandsire, Saum the son of Neriman.

And lo! when Rustem beheld the retinue of Saum yet a long way off, he commanded his own attendants to stand still, while he, dismounting from his great war elephant, went forward on foot. Then when he was come near enough to behold the face of his grandsire, he straightway touched with his eyelashes the ground before his feet, saying unto him:

“O Pehliva of the World! Greatest of the great among the defenders of Iran! Behold, I am Rustem, thy grandson, and much I have longed to see thee! And now I crave thy blessing that I may return in happiness unto Zal, my silver-crowned father.”

Now, beholding the youth, Saum was struck dumb with wonder, for he saw that not half had been related unto him as to the boy’s stature and grace. Filled with delight, the old warrior commanded his elephant to kneel, and having descended, he raised and blessed his grandson. Then, having seated him in the howdah beside him, the two rode side by side into Zabulistan.

And how the two enjoyed that journey! Also, how they talked, or rather Rustem did! But first, he gazed and gazed in open delight at the great warrior by his side, concealing not his admiration and pride, for though a giant in size, the heart of Rustem was that of a child. Then he said unto the old man:

“O my grandfather, now I perceive that I am sprung from thee, and I rejoice. For my desires are not after pleasure, neither do I think of play, or rest, or sleep; but ever and always I long to be a hero, fighting fierce battles and performing deeds of valor. But most of all, just now, I crave a horse of my own, and a hard saddle such as the Turanian riders use; a coat of mail, too, and a helmet like those thy warriors have. Then with my lance, and my arrows in which I delight, I will vanquish the enemies of our house and of Iran, and my courage shall be like unto thine and that of my noble father. Then thy heart will rejoice, O my grandsire, and side by side we will fight the battles of the great Shah and of Iran.”

Now when Saum heard these words he was both amazed and delighted, and he blessed the boy yet again, promising him that as soon as he reached the stature of his father, he should have his heart’s desire. And so great was his joy and pride in his grandson that his eyes could not cease from gazing upon the bright, eager face of the youth. And he said unto him:

“O my young Hero, valiant of heart, for more than a hundred years have I been the chief of the Princes of Iran, and great are the honors that have come unto me, yet never have my eyes been gladdened as in thee. Verily, being now full of years, I fear that my fighting days are almost over, but I rejoice that in Rustem the house of Saum will still live and shine as the sun in glory. And to this end, it behooveth thee to grow up strong and valiant and wise like unto thy father and the other heroes of thy house. Then will the heart of thy grandsire indeed rejoice in thee, and all will be well in the land.”

But alas! The home pleasures of a warrior are of short duration, and so scarcely a moon had run her course before Saum was again called unto the field of battle. During the whole of his stay, however, he insisted upon having Rustem always with him, and when finally he was obliged to go, he said unto Zal:

“Remember, O my son, that when this child’s stature is equal to thine own, he is to have a horse of his own choosing, and all the trappings such as we ourselves wear in battle. Honor this, therefore, as my parting command.”

Now hearing this, Rustem, leaving his grandfather’s side, and placing himself near unto White-haired Zal, said, smiling:

“And see, father! I am only eight, but even now I am almost as tall as thou. Truly, I shall not have long to wait!”

Then the two warriors smiled, well pleased with the boy; and as they embraced in parting, Zal gravely promised that he would surely remember.

But time passed, and when yet two summers had rolled over the head of Rustem, behold, one night he was awakened from his slumbers by a great noise and cries of distress outside his door. Starting up quickly and listening, therefore, he distinguished the cry:

“The King’s white elephant! The King’s white elephant! He hath broken his chain, and is crushing and trampling the people to death. Flee! Flee, for thy life!”

Now Rustem, when he caught the import of the words, sprang quickly from his bed, seized his grandfather’s great club, and commanded the guards to let him pass into the court that he might subdue the beast. But the attendants barred the way, saying harshly:

“Rash boy! What wouldst thou do? The night is dark, and the white elephant is loose. It is sure death, therefore, to venture out. Lend thyself not unto folly, nor yet give place unto rage, for how can we face the fury of thy father, if we allow thee to run into danger?”

But Rustem did give place unto both rage and disgust at such faint-heartedness. For, realizing that hundreds of lives were in danger and that he must not delay, behold, he struck the attendant who barred his path so terrible a blow that his head rolled off like a ball struck from a bat, seeing which, the others quickly made way for him. Then with his mighty arms and his strong fists he broke down the barriers of the door; and as he stood without, he beheld how all the warriors were sore afraid of the elephant, because that he was mad with rage. Then Rustem was ashamed for them in his soul, for he said within himself:

“Verily, what counteth the life of one against a hundred?”

Laying his club upon his shoulder, therefore, he hastened after the elephant; and when he was come near unto the furious beast he ran toward him with a loud cry. Then the elephant, beholding the son of Zal, rushed madly forward, roaring like the river Nile, and raising his trunk to strike. But Rustem, regarding the huge beast with a cautious and steady eye, fearlessly struck him a blow with such strength and vigor that the iron mace was bent almost double. Now at this the elephant trembled, his legs failed under him, and he fell with a crash so appalling that you had said a mountain had fallen, the noise of it being heard afar. As for Rustem, when he had done this deed, he returned unto his bed and slept sweetly until morning.

Now the next day, when Zal heard of the prowess of his son, he was delighted. Sending for him therefore, he said unto him:

“O my glorious son, Ormuzd hath been indeed gracious unto thee. In years thou art but a child, yet there is no one to match thee in courage, strength, and stature. On this account, therefore, thou shouldst accomplish great things in the world; and that thy judgment may also be cultivated, I wish to send thee forth upon an enterprise which will delight thy heart. And now listen carefully unto that which I shall relate:

“Many, many years ago, in the reign of the glorious Feridoun, thy distinguished grandfather, the aged Neriman, was sent by that monarch to take an enchanted fortress situated upon Mount Sipend. This fort, high up upon a steep eminence, was said to contain beautiful lawns of freshest verdure, delightful gardens abounding with fruits and flowers, and fair castles filled with marvellous treasure; for no caravan going that way ever returned. Yet no eye had ever beheld the beauties of the place, and no army, however strong or strategic, had ever scaled the heights, for the fort seemingly was impregnable.

“Again and again valiant warriors and mighty armies, at the command of the Shah, besieged this place of Deevs, but in vain. And alas! thy grandfather, great champion that he was, fared no better, for after a whole year’s siege, with nothing accomplished, he was finally killed by a rock thrown upon his head by one of the evil Deevs, and as a consequence, again an unsuccessful army returned unto Feridoun.

“Then thy grandfather Saum, being deeply afflicted by the fate of his gallant father, himself set out against the fort. But though he wandered for months and years over the desert looking for the fortress, he could not find the way which led unto the place, for never a being was seen to enter or come out of the gates. So finally, other duties obliged him to give up the appalling enterprise, and he was forced to return without having avenged his father’s death.

“And now, my son, it seemeth unto me that, since thou art yet unknown, it may be easy for thee to accomplish our purpose. But thou must go disguised, since the keepers of the fort will not then suspect thee, and thus thou mayest secure entrance unto the fortress. It occurreth unto me, also, that it might be well to disguise thyself as a camel driver, coming in from the desert with a cargo of salt, since it is said that there is nothing in that country valued higher than salt. When they hear that this is thy commodity, the gates of the fortress will surely be opened unto thee. Then destroy the wretches utterly, root and branch, for, behold, they have cumbered the earth too long.

“Now, that this is a glorious opportunity by which to test thy prowess, O my son, I need not say unto thee. But of this I am sure, if thou shalt prove thyself successful in this endeavor, surely Saum, thy grandsire, will consider that the time is ripe for thee to have thine own horse and armor, together with all the privileges and honors of a young warrior. Then go forth, O my Wonder Child, and may the desert blossom beneath thy feet, and the Blessed Ormuzd wreathe thy brow with victory.”

So spake the White-haired Zal, and as Rustem listened he became so filled with delight that he scarce felt the earth beneath his feet. For his soul was that of the warrior, and he longed mightily for adventure and combat; yea, they were as honey unto his lips. So the grass grew not under his feet, but right speedily he prepared a great train of camels. And so cunningly was the train disguised that, had you seen it, you would have said:

“Why, here is a salt merchant starting with his caravan across the desert!”

But the salt merchant was Rustem, and the camel drivers his brave companions in this adventure. And besides salt, the huge packing-cases contained Rustem’s great club with which he slew the white elephant, as well as all the arms of his warriors. But so well was all arranged, and so clever the disguises, that the breath of suspicion could not possibly fall upon so innocent-looking a train.

So right merrily they set forth, and, after marching many days, they at last approached the fortress. And lo! it happened even as Zal had thought, for when the keeper of the gate saw them from a distance, he ran quickly to the governor of the fort, saying:

“My Lord, a caravan with a great number of camel drivers hath arrived, and, judging by the cases, I should say they have salt to sell. What are thy commands?”

Then the governor replied unto the gate-keeper:

“Why, this is most fortunate! It was but yesterday that my chamberlain reported unto me that the Deevs were famishing for salt. Admit them by all means, for now my people can be satisfied.”

So the gates were thrown open, and Rustem and his whole train entered the fortress. And behold! after courteous greetings had been exchanged between the governor and Rustem, he was allowed to repair unto the bazaar, taking his camel drivers with him. And here the salt merchant drove a brisk trade, for thousands crowded around, eagerly making their purchases, some giving clothes in exchange, some gold, and some jewels; and not a thought of fear or suspicion was there in the heart of any one of them.

Howbeit, when night came on and it was dark, Rustem impatiently drew forth his weapons from their hiding-place, and quickly arming himself and his companions, started to execute his plan of attack. And first, advancing toward the governor’s mansion, he raised his furious battle-cry; then, with one blow of his mace, he shattered the great iron door, and fell upon the guards. Now right and left he levelled them, and none could stand before him. Indeed, so fierce and overwhelming was he that you would have sworn that this was no mortal man, but the Great White Deev himself, falling upon his brethren. For in his fury, not only did he slay the mighty Deev who ruled the fortress, but all his chiefs as well, felling some to the earth with his club, striking others down with his sword, so that when morning was come not a Deev was left alive in the fortress.

And this accomplished, Rustem’s next step was to storm the governor’s treasure palace. Now this was built of stone, and the gate was of iron, but this did not deter for a moment the mighty son of Zal. With his formidable battle-axe he soon demolished the entrance, and then, pressing eagerly forward, treasure, priceless treasure, everywhere met their gaze.

But all this was as naught in comparison with what was to come, for in the heart of the palace they finally discovered a marvellous temple, constructed with infinite skill and science, beyond the power of mortal man. And well Rustem knew that here the cow-headed mace would be of no avail, for it was plain that this was the work of magic. Undaunted, however, the son of Zal drew forth from his breast, at this crisis, a beautiful golden feather, which, applying to the lock, the door immediately flew open, revealing a most gorgeous sight. For lo! there were rubies, and emeralds, and diamonds, and opals, amethysts and onyx, turquoise and pearls, to say nothing of crowns and girdles, sceptres and thrones of pure gold, inlaid with jewels. Also, there were tapestries and rugs, brocades and silks, carvings and armor, together with heaps and heaps of glittering coins. But words cannot describe it, for truly never in the world was there such a gorgeous sight as that treasure palace of the enchanted fortress.

And now a problem confronted Rustem, for he was puzzled to know what to do with such enormous and valuable spoils. He therefore sent a messenger unto Zal to announce his victory, and to receive directions as to the treasure. Then Zal, rejoicing, sent unto Rustem two thousand camels to bring away the booty, thinking this number sufficient. But alas! when these were all loaded there was still much treasure remaining, for, you see, it was the wealth of thousands of caravans. Having taken all they could, however, Rustem, following the instructions of his father, then burned the place with fire, so that naught remained of it. Then, his work being finished, lo, he departed back unto his father.

But, strange as it may seem, the chronicles yet record that all this treasure was as nothing unto Rustem in comparison with the joy in battle, the delight in conquest which he now knew for the first time outside his dreams. Again and again on the homeward journey, he lived over the blissful experience, and so engrossed in it did he finally become that the glorification which awaited him upon his arrival home—his father’s words of praise, his mother’s fond embrace—all passed over him but half noted, for his mind was busy with other things. After much pondering, however, he finally said unto his father:

“O my silver-crowned father, one of these days I am going to be a great warrior; of that I feel sure. For in battle my soul knoweth perfect joy. And now, having avenged my illustrious grandsire, surely I may choose my war horse and enter upon my career as a warrior, for truly I am now no longer a child.”

So ended Rustem’s youth, with all its exploits which seem so marvellous for a child. But then it must be remembered that he was not an ordinary, but a wonder child—which explains it all perfectly.

RUSTEM THE YOUNG WARRIOR

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.