Chapter VII: Part 7

But this Tamineh could not do, for Rustem had become a part of her life, both waking and dreaming, as you shall hear. For it happened that the Princess had for her nurse a Persian woman, Fatima by name, who loved nothing so well as to talk of the great champion of her country, so that from childhood up had the Tartar maiden heard the wonder tales of her hero. Yea, the most beautiful part of every day unto her, as far back as she could remember, was the twilight hour, when, seated at her nurse’s feet, her head pillowed in her soft lap, for hours she would sit spellbound, listening eagerly unto Fatima as she related the mighty deeds of Rustem: How, when only eight years old, he slew the King’s white elephant; of the capture of the magic fortress; of his wonderful march into Mazinderan; of Rakush; and of all his daring deeds as a warrior.

And behold! Fatima had also other things to relate of her hero: tales illustrating his beautiful tenderness, loyalty, and greatness of soul. And as the Princess grew older, these stories appealed more to her than the wonder tales or the deeds of prowess; but all was listened to with eagerness and delight by the infatuated Tamineh, who, thus fed upon romance, grew into a tall, beautiful maiden with never a thought for any man save Rustem the Mighty.

But though it seemed most unlikely that the Princess would ever behold her hero, lo! it was written in the stars to the contrary. And that which is written, shall it not surely come to pass? So, at least, believe the Persians, and so happened it unto Rustem and Tamineh.

For presently it came to pass that upon a certain morning Rustem, in far-away Persia, awoke from his slumbers unrefreshed, after a restless night of dreaming. Concluding, therefore, that his muscles were in need of exercise, there being no enemies to fight, the hero resolved to go off upon a long hunting trip. So, filling his quiver with arrows, he saddled Rakush, and set out for the beautiful wilds that border upon Turan.

Now, arrived at the hunting-ground, Rustem found good sport, for the plain was covered with great herds of wild asses that roamed at will from the sullen grandeur of the uplands to the fairer vales below. Setting spurs to Rakush, therefore, gaily the hero pursued them through wood and glen, and often did his quivering darts pierce the glossy skin of the dangerous game. Yea, and oft too, did his lengthy lasso unfurl, ring upon ring, snaring the wily beasts for his club. So long he hunted, until finally, night drawing on, he said unto Rakush:

“Enough, My Beauty, enough! for to-morrow will be another day.”

So, his hunting done, straightway the hero proceeded to light a great fire. Then, making a young tree serve as a spit, he ran it through the body of a nice fat gor, hung it over the fire, and roasted it for his meal. And behold, being deliciously done, hungrily he tore it joint from joint, ate of it his fill, and broke the bones for the marrow. Then, tired with his long day’s sport, the weary hunter sought the shade of a thicket, and lay down to sleep, fanned by the plumes of the glorious palms above his head, and lulled to rest by the cooing doves and sunbirds that fluttered through their swinging crowns. Yea, and watched over by faithful Rakush who wandered never far from his sleeping master.

Now while Rustem peacefully slept, the hand of Fate was busy weaving into the pattern of his life some new threads. For, on this eventful day, a traveller on his way to Samengan had beheld the Mighty One hunting. So it came to pass that having arrived at the court, he told the astonishing news, which spread until it reached the ears of Fatima, who at once rushed to inform her young mistress. Now at first, Tamineh, upon hearing this story, was incredulous, but having summoned the traveller into her presence, her doubts were soon dispelled, for he said:

“Gracious Princess! Behold, as I crossed the great salt plains upon the border of the kingdom this day, I encountered a solitary huntsman, mounted upon a magnificent charger, and towering in his saddle like a giant among men. More like unto a god than mortal man, surely this could have been no other than Rustem, the Champion of the World, and his famous war-horse Rakush; for verily there exist not two such mighty heroes in the world!—of that I am certain.”

Thus spake the traveller, and being dismissed, Fatima, all excitement, cried eagerly unto her mistress:

“O Rose of the World, rejoice! for behold, thy hero draweth near, and yet thine eyes may be gladdened by his coming! For surely no man could see the Mighty Rustem and mistake him for another, since as the traveller sayeth, in all the world there are no two such; nay, nor methinks in heaven either!”

Now hearing these words, the heart of Tamineh leaped and rejoiced like unto that of a gay singing-bird, as, embracing Fatima, she exclaimed joyously, her soft, dark eyes shining like stars:

“Fatima, Old Dragon! Listen and admire. For, behold, thy Bright Pomegranate Flower hath determined to gaze upon this glorious Persian Sun, and if it withereth all her gay petals! and the stars decree that thou must help her.”

But Fatima, hearing these words, quickly repented of her impetuosity, for right well she knew the wilfulness of her mistress, and she feared unto what it might lead. Therefore she replied unto Tamineh:

“Pearl of my Heart! be not foolish; for how is it possible for thee to accomplish the desire of thy heart? The great Rustem is travelling north, and it is not probable, either that he will visit our Court, or delay his journey. How then canst thou hope to see him?”

Now thus questioned, for a time Tamineh was silent. But, being a young woman of some resource, she was not to be dismayed by obstacles which might have deterred smaller souls, for had she not all her life been hoping against hope for just this opportunity? And now that it had come, was she to sit quietly down, allowing it to pass by unimproved? Verily, nay! For some minutes, however, the Princess did sit down, thinking hard. But presently, springing gaily to her feet, a mischievous light sparkling and dancing in her wonderful dark eyes, she cried:

“Kiss me, Fatima, kiss me! for verily thou beholdest before thee the happiest Princess in the whole, wide world. Soon I shall see, and perhaps win the hero of my dreams, and thou, too, methinks will rejoice once more to behold thy country’s champion. Now let not thine eyes pop out of thy head, Old Dragon; neither be thou dismayed, for I shall not go forth unto the great Rustem, but he shall come unto me. For, look you! the plan is quite simple, since we have only to take captive Rakush, when the hero will come quickly enough to recover his glorious steed.”

Alas! the proposition of stealing Rakush was unto Fatima as daring and awful an idea as the thought of stealing Rustem himself, but realizing that it was useless to oppose her young mistress, she replied not, save by a deep groan.

Ignoring the groan, however, the Princess continued:

“Listen now, my dear old Fatima, for verily the plot is a famous one! But it must be carried out to-night, before Rustem hath departed, else will it be too late. Now methinks that not by strength but by stratagem must Rakush the terrible be captured. Therefore, when darkness covereth the land to-night, we will send forth six wily herdsmen, mounted upon light, swift horses, spurring them on to the enterprise by offering them princely rewards if successful. They must be, of course, men expert with the lasso, and they must entrap, without harming, Rakush while Rustem sleeps, returning with him unto the royal stables before dawn.”

Thus elaborated Tamineh her plan unto Fatima, who, relieved that it threatened no danger to the Princess, nevertheless protested loudly, tearing her hair and clothes, weeping and lamenting bitterly. But of course she ended by doing the will of her mistress, as did also the men chosen, for well they knew that any service faithfully performed would be liberally rewarded by the Princess Tamineh.

Meanwhile, little dreamed the mighty Rustem, as he soundly slept on his bed of moss that night, after his famous day’s hunting, of the filmy web that this bright-eyed Princess was securely weaving about him. Yea, and even intelligent Rakush, though he slept not, little suspected that for long seven dark figures had stealthily stalked him through the night. For the Tartar warriors who followed him, knowing quite well that no easy task was involved in carrying out the commands of their Princess, proceeded most cautiously.

Finally, however, advancing stealthily, the seven clever ones tried to take their prize, unawares, by throwing a lasso over his head. But in vain; for the noise of the uncoiling lariat piercing unto the ear of Rakush, dexterously he avoided the cruel cord, standing with ears alert and pawing feet of anger. Now for a second thus he stood; then having located his enemy, like a lion he sprang upon them, striking two of the foe dead with a single stroke of his forefeet, and savagely biting off the head of a third. Thus three of the company were safely disposed of, and the brave Rakush was not yet taken. Nor would he have been; for never yet had man or Demon entrapped or overcome the glorious steed; but for the sake of the beautiful Princess, the stars decreed it. So presently, after a hard fight, the four succeeded in entangling him with their lassos, and thus it came to pass that just before the day dawned the proud war-horse of Rustem was led, gagged and blindfolded, into the stables of the King of Samengan.

And behold, when the Princess Tamineh from her balcony at last beheld the famous war-horse loom up along the shadowy road, so great was her joy that, regardless of the fact that Rakush was tossing his head, stamping his hoofs, and snorting protests like an angry dragon, she would have flown down to welcome him with soft caress, had not the faithful Fatima urged that such a step might undo all that had been accomplished.

But though the dawn brought joy unto Tamineh, its message unto Rustem was that of sorrow. For behold! when he called unto Rakush no answering neigh rang out the glad reply. Thinking, however, that his steed had perhaps but strayed beyond the sound of his first gentle call, the hero quickly came out into the open, calling unto Rakush in a voice of thunder; but still there came no answer. Then was the heart of the Mighty One troubled, for well he knew that his faithful steed had not willingly strayed away. Now in his dismay he said unto himself:

“What a dilemma! for now must I go on foot, carrying my quiver and my great club, this heavy helmet and coat of mail, and my life-destroying sword. And seeing me thus, how the Tartars will scoff, saying among themselves: ‘Behold the Mighty Rustem! While he slept, some one must have stolen his horse!’ Now thus shall I be put to shame before my enemies, that which never yet hath happened unto Rustem.”

Thus communing with himself, busily the hero searched for some trace of his missing steed, and not in vain, for at last he detected the footprints of a scuffle down by the stream that murmured at the foot of the shady glen. Here great hoof-marks pointed out the field of battle, the ground being ploughed up upon all sides, indicating how desperately the mighty steed had resisted his wily captors. Then farther on could be traced the steps of Rakush between two other horses, closely followed by a third, which plainly said unto Rustem that his faithful companion had been stolen.

And now, boiling over with rage and sorrow, the heart of Rustem beat to but one refrain: Vengeance! Vengeance upon the captors of Rakush! Pausing not, however, quickly he followed the traces of his horse’s hoofs, and lo! they led him unto the gates of Samengan. Then Rustem, perceiving whither the footprints led, sware unto Heaven a great oath, and he said:

“By the sun and moon and stars, I swear that if aught of harm hath come unto Rakush through this King or his people, verily the thief shall pay for it with his head!”

Meanwhile, knowing naught of the capture of Rakush, as Rustem approached the shining turrets of the city, great was the astonishment of the King and those about him when they beheld the manner of his coming. Nevertheless, they hurried forth to greet their distinguished guest, the King saying unto him:

“O glorious Pehliva, never hath Samengan been so honored in a guest, and lo! her King sayeth unto thee, ‘Welcome.’ But how happeneth it that the mighty Rustem cometh unto us afoot and unattended? If misfortune hath befallen, behold! we are all at thy service!”

But unto this courteous greeting Rustem replied coldly, relating briefly unto the King all that had come to pass. Then becoming more angry as he talked, once more the hero sware that many heads should quit their trunks if his charger were not returned unto him right speedily, void of harm.

Then the King, seeing that Rustem was beside himself with anger, spake words of comfort unto the hero, for he knew how dear unto him was his glorious steed. And he said:

“O Hero of Heroes! Be not so disturbed in thy spirit, for verily anger profiteth nothing. It is by charming that one lureth the serpent from his hole. As for Rakush,

If still within the limits of my reign,
The well-known courser shall be thine again.
For Rakush never can remain concealed
No more than Rustem on the battle-field.

“Take courage, therefore, and be of good cheer, for soon thy glorious other self shall be restored unto thee, and all will be well. As for the thief, when detected he shall be placed in thy hands, to slay or to spare, according to thy good pleasure. But as for Rustem!—for this one night, at least, he must tarry at Samengan as our honored guest.”

So, being satisfied with these promises, Rustem put away all suspicion from his mind, and became the King’s guest. Then all day they feasted and made merry, beguiling the hours with wine and sweet words. Nor could the King sufficiently honor his guest, though he encompassed him with music and song, and waited upon him with his own hands, as though he were his slave. And behold! when night was fallen the monarch himself led Rustem unto a couch perfumed with musk and roses, bidding him slumber peacefully until morning, when he should again be made glad in Rakush, his steed.

Now thus delightfully couched, Rustem slept dreamlessly until the star of morning stood high in the arch of heaven. Then suddenly there fell upon his ear the murmur of soft womanly voices which caused the hero to start up in confused amazement. Seeing nothing, however, he closed his eyes again, for he thought that he had dreamed.

But though his conclusion was natural, the hero dreamed not, for presently the heavy curtains were drawn softly aside, and there stepped within the chamber a slave bearing a lamp perfumed with amber. And following after, her veil but half concealing her lovely face, Rustem beheld the fairest maiden his eyes had ever gazed upon. Now for a moment the lovely vision lingered upon the threshold, poised like a frightened bird for hasty flight, the rich color suffusing her olive cheek, her dark eyes beaming beneath their splendid lashes, and her pomegranate mouth, flower-soft and sensitive, slightly parted. Then gaining courage, slowly she advanced toward the hero, and as she moved, fragrance was scattered from her robes, and her long black ringlets, musk-perfumed, seemed unto Rustem as fateful as the warrior’s kamund. Yet, though enchanted, the warrior sighed, for again he thought he but dreamed.

But even as he would have settled himself once more unto slumber, behold, like music upon his ear fell the soft voice of Tamineh, bidding Fatima retire to the distant window. Now this fully awoke the young warrior, who, springing quickly from his couch, gazed in astonished delight at his enchanting visitor. Then Tamineh spoke in the soft, velvety tones she could use so effectively when she chose. And she said:

“My Lord Rustem, thou beholdest before thee the Princess Tamineh, daughter of the King, and she hath come thus into thy presence because the need is urgent. For she would crave thy pardon for a great wrong which she hath done unto thee, and which, she heareth, carrieth with it a fearful penalty.”

Now amazed at this most surprising confession poured forth from tempting lips, moulded for love’s recompense alone, for a second the valiant Rustem was silenced by the wonder and unexpectedness of it all. Quickly recovering himself, however, he replied unto the maiden:

“Thou, Fair Princess! Thou hast done me a wrong? Truly, I know not what wrong thou canst have done me, unless it be the mischief wrought by thy bright eyes since they have shone so radiantly upon me. It is true, my heart whispers unto me that thy wondrous beauty hath caught me in its snare, but if that be thy sin, it carrieth with it a delightful penalty—one which thou needst not fear.”

Now this reply, so unlike that of a mighty warrior, caused a roguish smile to play about the fascinating lips of the Princess Tamineh, who, casting upon the speaker one bright, admiring glance from her sparkling eyes, then modestly dropped them, replying demurely unto this gallant speech:

“Who knoweth, My Lord, but that, perchance, I would gladly add that theft unto the other! But greatly I fear that thou wilt consider my first offence the greater. For it was I, and none other, who had stolen from thee Rakush, thy steed of battle, who even now slumbereth peacefully in the royal stables.”

So spake Tamineh, and though, as we know, her words were true, yet was it long before she could persuade the master of Rakush that she did not jest. When she finally convinced him, however, so great was his joy in knowing Rakush safe and unharmed, that, behold, he forgot to be angry with the thief. But, after all, who could blame him? for the thief was very fair, and she confessed with a voice that rivalled the magic notes of the bulbul chanting unto his mate. And besides, the master of Rakush had it in his heart to ask a great boon of the Princess, and this time he remembered that not by anger, but by charming, one lureth a bird from the bush. So, smiling, he said unto Tamineh:

“Fair Princess, behold, thou standest before thy judge, convicted of two serious crimes. Two conditions must thou fulfil, therefore, if thou wouldst obtain thy pardon. First, the judge must be allowed to gaze upon the face of the fair culprit, else how can he administer suitable punishment? And second, he must be informed as to the motive of the theft, for that puzzle hath yet to be unravelled.”

Now at this embarrassing sentence, the lovely Tamineh stood silent before her judge, looking indeed like a culprit fostering half a desire to flee. But presently, rallying her forces, she replied bravely unto the Mighty One, though her soft voice trembled and she looked not up:

“My Lord Rustem, though news unto thee—since thou art a mighty warrior—I suppose it is yet true that every maiden hath her hero. Now it is owing to Fatima, there, who is a Persian, that I have mine: a hero of whose fame and valorous deeds I have dreamed my life long, whose like ne’er was and ne’er will be again, whose glory reacheth even unto the stars. And thou must know also, O Mighty One, that every maiden longeth to gaze upon the face of the only hero in the world for her. That is why I stole thy horse. And now, since thou knowest my utmost guilt, findest thou my crime too great for pardon?”

But unto this plea, for some minutes, Rustem replied not, for persistently his heart kept singing: “The only hero in the world for her! The only hero in the world for her!” Now praise was no new thing unto the Champion of the World, but never before had it been offered with such subtle charm. And besides, with joy the warrior recognized that here was a spirit akin unto his own in its dauntlessness and longings after the best. Drawing near unto the Princess, therefore, “The Only Hero in the World” said unto her softly:

“Fair Pomegranate Flower, one of the conditions, truly, thou hast fulfilled; but the other must be met also; for verily my eyes are hungry for full sight of lips that can murmur words so sweet to hear!”

But the Princess, drawing closer the long white veil which half concealed her face, stepped quickly back, saying proudly unto the eager Rustem:

“Nay, nay, my Lord! That is a privilege I grant only unto the man who weddeth me.”

Now saying this, slowly the Princess moved toward the curtains, as though she would go. But Rustem, detaining her, cried out impetuously:

“O Pearl among Women, stay! for verily my heart hath wakened and calleth unto thee for its mate. Only consent, therefore, and to-morrow will we be wed.”

But, though these words sounded unto Tamineh like a pæan of victory, she received them coldly; for well she knew that no man—least of all a warrior—careth for what he can win too easily. And then it was that Rustem, in whom contradiction ever roused a fiery purpose to obtain his will, vowed again and yet again that he could not live without her; that he would wed but her, and that before the morrow’s sun had set; that from henceforth honor and praise and glory would be as ashes unto his lips, unless shared with his Moon of Beauty.

So now, having thus aroused desire, softly the Princess drew aside her veil. Then before the enraptured Rustem had wakened to the danger, like a gay humming-bird, swiftly away she flew, leaving in his hands her veil, which he in his eagerness had seized lest she hide that lovely face again too soon. And as she fled, like chimes of bells there floated back the sound of merry laughter, which but fanned the flame glowing already so brightly in the awakened heart of the hero left gazing so ruefully upon love’s only token—the dainty, fragrant, cruel film of lace. Now regarding it tenderly, the warrior smiled and said:

“Behold, the gay young Singing-bird hath flown, leaving her pretty wing in the too rough hand of her captor! But, by the sun and moon and stars, I swear that yet shall she be mine, for mighty in love shall Rustem be as well as in deeds of valor.”

Consequently, when morning dawned, and the hero once more beheld the King, ceremoniously he asked Tamineh’s hand in marriage. Yea, and the monarch of Samengan listened unto him gladly, for was it not Rustem the Mighty who sued! And did he not know but too well the heart of his Moon of Beauty! So that very day was the marriage bower crowned with roses and decked with white lilies, while the royal abode was flooded with music and sunshine to grace the glad wedding of the Princess Tamineh. And when all was over, verily it seemed unto Rustem and his pretty Singing-bird as if the world, like some vast tidal wave, had rolled away, leaving them alone with their happiness upon the golden shores of the Land of Delight.

Now thus it was that Tamineh, Princess of Samengan, obtained her heart’s desire. And behold! for one bright summer month she tasted such happiness as is seldom vouchsafed, even unto the children of Ormuzd. Wandering in the myrtle groves, or strolling together in the shady forest, the Princess now heard from the hero’s own lips marvellous tales of adventure, and, the days passed for both like a happy dream. But alas! In the Book of Fate it is written that pure happiness is not for mortals, and so, when one bright moon had run her course, relentlessly sorrow—joy’s sombre twin—invaded this Land of Delight.

And behold! not suddenly, but with stealth, the invader drew nigh, attacking first the hero of battles. For gradually Rustem became restless, and impatient with his life of inactivity, longing intensely for the excitement of warfare and adventure to which he was accustomed and for which he was formed. For alas! Nature, in giving unto him his giant frame and mighty muscles, his valorous heart, and his soul that joyed, above all else, in battle, had planned and destined the mighty son of Zal to shine through all the ages—not as a lover, but as the type of the perfect warrior.

Now slowly this truth was brought home unto Tamineh, as she noted the ever-increasing restlessness of her hero, which even she could not always still, though she knew that he loved her tenderly. And though she spake not of it, her heart became burdened with sorrow, for she knew that the time was now not far off when Rustem would go back unto his own people and life, perhaps forgetting her in the more powerful attractions of war, while she must needs love him forever.

And alas! Tamineh was right in her surmise, for it needed only the rumor that war had again broken out in Persia to cause Rustem to buckle on his sword and armor with joy at the prospect of battle. Then hastily seeking the King, he said unto him:

“O Royal Cypress, long have I rested in the shade of thy glorious land, but now I must say unto it farewell. For behold! duty calleth me back unto Iran, and it is well, for verily my sword hath rusted too long in its scabbard, and Rakush neigheth with longing to bear me once more in the thick of the fight.”

Now having thus spoken, the hero opened his arms and took unto his heart Tamineh, the Peri-faced, bathing her cheeks with tears and covering her hair and eyes with kisses; also he whispered unto his Singing-bird sweet words of enchantment. But alas for Tamineh! Clinging unto the neck of her hero, bitterly she wept, crying unto her beloved:

“O Light of my Life! I fear that thou goest from me forever, and how shall I live without thee?”

But, kissing away her tears, Rustem spake unto Tamineh brave words of comfort, telling her that he would surely return unto her when his fighting was over, laden with fresh laurels to lay at her feet. And he bade her be strong and dauntless of spirit, as was seemly for a warrior’s bride, since even for this was it that he loved her. And last of all, taking from off his arm an onyx bracelet, upon which was engraved the image of a Simurgh, he gave it unto Tamineh, saying:

“Pearl of my Heart, listen! If while I am away, God should send unto us a daughter, fasten this amulet under her curls. If, however, a son should be sent to gladden our hearts, then let him wear it upon his arm, as his father hath worn it, for it will protect him from the powers of evil, being the badge of Rustem and of Zal.”

Now having thus spoken, hastily Rustem threw himself upon the back of Rakush, and the wind-footed bare him swiftly away from out the sight of Tamineh, unto whom the world suddenly became dark, so blinded were her eyes with tears.

Then with leaden feet passed the days for the Princess Tamineh. Howbeit, as time passed on, news came from the Mighty Rustem of fresh victories, together with a present of three great rubies of priceless value and three wedges of finest gold. But alas! the letter said no word of the hero’s return, only of more battles and victories to come. And Tamineh, reading between the lines, sighed bitterly, taking no pleasure in the rubies and gold.

But a great joy was in store for Tamineh, for one night as she sat sorrowfully upon her balcony, suddenly she heard a flutter of mighty wings, and behold, there was dropped into her lap a priceless treasure—a babe whose mouth was filled with smiles, and who in feature resembled his glorious sire. Then was Tamineh comforted, and because of his smiles she called her babe Sohrab, which meaneth Sunshine.

SOHRAB THE YOUTH

Now if we are to believe what the old chronicles tell us, never, I suppose, since the world began was there born a more lovable babe than Sohrab, the son of Rustem. When he came unto his mother, behold, his eyes and mouth were still alight with the sunshine of Paradise, and, instead of crying, he kicked and crowed with delight, trying thus to say unto Tamineh that he was glad to leave even the Garden of the Blessed to come unto her.

And truly the babe was a joy to behold! for in addition to all the gay loveliness of Rustem’s bright Singing-bird, from his illustrious father he had inherited the splendid physique of the noble house of Zal. Following after Rustem, too, he grew so rapidly that when he was a month old he had the limbs of a yearling child; at three years he learned exercises of arms; at five he was bold as a lion; and at ten there was not a hero in the whole country who dared wrestle with him.

So, practising all the exercises of an athlete and a warrior, the boy grew up tall, dark, and straight as a young cypress, with limbs like unto an elephant, heart bold as a lion’s, and his foot as swift as that of the wild stag; yet withal, so simple, gay, generous, and lovable, that from his proud grandsire, the King of Samengan, down to the meanest subject in the realm, he was admired and adored by all—while as for his mother, unto her he was the very breath of life, filling every sleeping and waking thought.

Now Sohrab had inherited from Tamineh one trait which drew them very close together. For behold! whatever the day’s occupation, and no matter what else tempted, at the evening hour the boy always sought his mother upon the balcony, where, seated at her feet, his bright head pillowed in her lap, he spent the happiest hour of his day listening unto the marvellous hero tales that poured like magic from her lips. For Tamineh, wishing her boy to be steeped in the legends of his father’s land, gladly related unto him the wonder tales of the Persians, all of which found an answering echo in the eager young soul of her listener. For verily Sohrab could not have been the son of Rustem without longing for battle and adventure.

And of course in all these stories the Hero of Heroes was Rustem the Mighty, unto whom the fair narrator did full justice. For Tamineh loved “The Only Hero in the World for her!” still, though he had never returned unto her; and so, as her hand strayed in mute caress through the thick, dark locks of Sohrab—who was, alas, love’s only legacy unto her!—she told of all the Champion’s wondrous deeds of valor with such fire and passion that the cheeks of both glowed with the tremendous stress of it. Yea, and Sohrab never wearied of these tales, begging to have them repeated again and again; and, as a consequence, he grew up with the thought that never had the world known such a mighty Pehliva as Rustem the Persian.

And Rakush, too, delighted the boy’s soul—Rakush the dauntless who carried the great hero of his country so gallantly through the thickest of the fight; Rakush the lion-slayer; Rakush who neighed for joy at the battle’s roar; Rakush who feared neither man, nor dragon, nor Deev; Rakush the gentle, who loved to eat sugar from his master’s hand.

Now listening unto all these inspiring tales, Sohrab determined deep in his soul that one day he, too, would be a great hero—yea, even the Champion of the World, as Rustem, leading his armies on to victory, and performing such deeds of valor as should bring fame and glory unto Turan, his land, and pride unto the heart of his mother, whose cheek—he promised himself—should flush one day as she related his brave deeds, even as now when she spoke of Rustem, the Hero of Heroes. For did he not intend that the name “Sohrab” should go ringing down the ages as the symbol of courage, generosity, loyalty, high endeavor, and chivalrous deeds? Yea, he would try hard; then, perhaps, one day the great Rustem might hear of him, and it might even happen that he would meet him face to face.

Thus the lad dreamed, not knowing that Rustem was his sire, for Tamineh had not revealed unto him his lineage. And alas! neither was it known unto Rustem that God had blessed him with a noble son. For, at the birth of Sohrab, the gentle mother, fearing that if the truth became known unto the great Persian chieftain, at once he would send and take the boy from her to train him up as a soldier to fight against her country, had sent word by a messenger who travelled unto Persia that a little daughter had been born unto him in Samengan. And behold! so little were daughters prized in the East at that time that Rustem never asked to see the child, and so remained in ignorance as to Sohrab.

For, although the years passed, Rustem was so busy fighting, that he never came back unto Samengan. But for Sohrab, therefore, the whole episode would have seemed unto Tamineh as naught but a blissful dream. In her beautiful, high-spirited boy, however, the Princess was consoled, for she knew that in him she possessed forever the best of Rustem—the hero’s heart, the dauntless spirit, the enduring soul—that which she had most loved in her hero. So gradually the warm, living presence of dreamy-eyed Sohrab, whose arms loved to linger round his mother’s neck, caused Tamineh to think of Rustem as a glorious warrior, but also as quite apart from her life.

Nevertheless, the Great Pehliva was the tie that bound this mother and son so closely together—for was he not the ideal of each? And often—yea, very often!—the wish sprang up in the heart of Tamineh that Rustem might behold his glorious son. But alas! when she remembered that as a consequence, her boy might be taken from her, her heart grew weak and she held her peace.

So the years passed by, bringing naught but joy unto Sohrab, until he was grown into a strong, manly, courageous youth of seventeen, who could ride, joust, tilt, hunt, and use both sword and spear better than any warrior in the whole kingdom of Samengan. Then one day he sought his mother, saying unto her:

“Mother, think it not strange, but I care not for a wonder-tale to-night; for much I have been thinking lately, and this once I would question thee of other things. And first, thou must know that but to-day Piran-Wisa hath told unto me that in the arts of war and of prowess he can teach me no more. So now I would hear of my race and lineage. Now of course I know that I am nobly born, for I feel it in all my being; but what shall I say unto men when they ask me the name of my sire? for verily I know it not.”

Now hearing these words of spirit, Tamineh smiled, because that his fire and pride were like unto that of his father; but she sighed also, for she scented in these words of manhood the loss of her boy. Nevertheless, disguising her sorrow, she replied gaily unto Sohrab and she said:

“So thou art tired of thy mother’s wonder stories, art thou? And desirest to speak of other things! Ah, but one more tale must thou hear, my Stately Young Cypress—one that I have been saving for thee right jealously for many days; one that will be unto thine ears sweeter than the song of yonder bulbul as he chanteth so entrancingly unto his mate. Nay, do not kiss me now, but cuddle down close to my side, and listen unto thy mother’s love song. It will not detain thee long!

“Well, once upon a time in the glorious springtime of the world, Ormuzd the Blessed, in the fair gardens of Paradise, conceived in his heart the thought of fashioning and sending forth into the world a hero who should be mightier and more illustrious than any of the sons of men. So, long he thought, and shaped, and wrought, for he planned a perfect hero, and his task was not easy. But finally, the beautiful Peri of Paradise having kissed dimples into the soft skin of the babe, curl into his hair, and the pomegranate bloom into his cheeks,—even as they must have done unto thee, O Beauteous One, before they sent thee forth unto me—all was pronounced finished, and the Blessed One smiled at his work, pronouncing it good, for, behold, in this wondrous creation, not a thing was there that marred, all bearing the stamp of perfection.

“Now they loved this babe in Paradise, and so it lingered there awhile. But, since not for this was it created, at last, reluctantly, the Blessed Ormuzd, summoning unto him the Wondrous Bird of God, tucked the laughing little one safely under her golden feathers, and sent it forth, bidding the tender mother-bird carry her treasure safely unto the house of White-haired Zal, in Persia.

“Ah, now my Young Cypress raiseth high his head, and I perceive that he hath guessed the name of my hero! But listen, for my tale is but just begun!

“And alas! it runneth not now so pleasantly, for Iblis, who hateth perfection, even as he hateth Ormuzd the Blessed, beholding this wondrous babe, in its cradle murmured over it vile words of magic. And having wrought his spell, maliciously he smiled, and said:

“‘Behold, now art thou perfect no longer, though thou appearest the same. And though a mighty warrior thou shalt be, truly, a heavy price shalt thou pay. For behold! all the days of thy life the tender joys of the heart shall be little known unto thee, though thy deeds shall be glorious!’

“Now this explaineth perfectly, doth it not? why thy great hero, Rustem, joyeth above all else in the roar and tumult of battle. It may also whisper unto thy heart other things, even as it hath unto thy mother, whose hero is also thy hero, and whose deeds of valor thrilled her maiden heart even as they now call forth such responsive echo in thine own.

“But though thine ear hath been delighted with many an adventure of Rustem, thou hast yet to hear, methinks, of a certain great hunting expedition upon which the hero lost his horse, but won a bride. For, be it known unto thee, my Sun-kissed Cypress, that a certain wicked Princess of Samengan, Tamineh by name, in order to behold the face of her hero, audaciously caused the redoubtable Rakush to be stolen, thus luring the mighty Rustem unto the Court, where for one happy month the love of his lady succeeded in blotting out from his heart all desire for battle and bloodshed. Then, alas, War, the true mistress of his life, once more regained her dominion! And so, seventeen long years ago, he bade good-by to his gay young Singing-bird, and never again hath he returned unto Samengan.

“But though her hero returned not, behold, the Princess was not left comfortless. For Ormuzd the Blessed, who ever keepeth a watchful eye upon his own, beholding the sad heart of the forsaken one, unperceived of Iblis, once more fashioned a perfect hero and sent him forth, this time unto the house of Tamineh. Now this beautiful babe seemed made of the essence of sunshine, and so, soon it came to pass that unto the lonely Princess he became the very light of her eyes and the joy of her life; yea, the very breath of her heart! for whom had she beside?

“And so the wonder tale revealeth that the proud Young Cypress, who gazeth with such shining eyes into those of his mother, is the noble shoot of a mighty tree whose shadow extendeth over the earth, and whose fame shall be sung by the Children of Ormuzd as long as the world lasts.

“And now, the tale being finished, if the promising Hero of Noble Race will graciously raise his fair head, not unto the stars, but unto his mother’s lips, much she would like to greet him!—ere the word is of other things.”

Now thus it was that Tamineh told unto Sohrab the story of her love, and having revealed unto him all things concerning his father, she charged him to keep secret what he had heard, lest Afrasiab, the enemy of Rustem, should slay the son because of the father, or lest Rustem should send for his son, thus bringing grief unto the heart of his mother.

But Sohrab, in the pride of his youth, with flashing eyes and uplifted head, replied proudly unto his mother. And he said:

“O Pearl among Mothers, verily my heart telleth me that this is a secret that cannot long remain known unto but two! For doth not the fame of Rustem, my noble father, even now fill the whole world with glory? And am not I his son? And shall not the son of Rustem also be glorious? Verily, thou mayest not think it, since as yet I am only a youth, but, mother, there is that within me which whispereth that one day I, too, shall do valiant deeds! Yea, and the day is not now far distant. For listen, O my mother!——

“Soon will I put myself at the head of an innumerable army of Tartars, and with them to aid me it will not take long to deprive that foolish Kaikous of his head and throne; for verily he is not fit to rule over a great country like Persia! Then will I place upon the throne of light the true monarch of Iran, even Rustem the Mighty. And behold! this being done, my father and I will, together, make war against Afrasiab, and I will possess myself of his throne. For, since Rustem is my father and I am his son, verily I will not suffer that there be any Kings in the world but him and me! For unto us belong the crowns of might. And dost thou know what thou wilt be then, O my Glorious Mother? Why, Queen of the whole world! And when that day shall come, as it surely will, then thy cheek shall flush with pride not only for the Mighty Rustem, but also for Sohrab, thy son. For, having subdued the wicked and the foolish, with wisdom and gentleness will we reign, so that all the world shall be glad because of the house of Zal.”

Now taking the ardent young speaker in her arms, Tamineh kissed his flushed cheeks and bright eyes again and again for answer, realizing with sorrow that the time was nigh when she must let her bold young eaglet go forth to try his wings. But though her heart was heavy, she spake brave words of wisdom unto Sohrab, promising that when the time came for him to go forth, she herself would buckle on his sword.

So all was yet well in the house of Tamineh. But lo! that night the Angel Serosch, in her sevenfold flight around the world, beheld Sohrab’s youth vanish from him forever, leaving in its place an aspiring hero, whose one desire was to behold the face of his glorious sire and to perform brave deeds like unto his.

SOHRAB AND THE WARRIOR MAIDEN

Behold! among the many legends of Sohrab, the son of Rustem, it is chronicled that with no one was he a greater favorite than with the famous Tartar general, old Piran-Wisa. And his interest in the child manifested itself in a practical way, for whenever he came unto Samengan, he put the lad through military exercises, teaching him thus the tactics of war.

Now at the time when Sohrab learned of his lineage the Kurds and Tartars were carrying on a fierce war against the Persians, and so eager was he now to acquire experience in battle, that finally he persuaded Piran-Wisa to secure him a command in the army of Afrasiab. And this was not difficult of accomplishment, for already had the fame of the great strength, and skill, and bravery of Sohrab pierced unto the ears of the King, who gladly accepted his services, scenting in him a mighty champion, later on, for his army.

So, having received his commission, Sohrab knelt before his grandfather, the King of Samengan, promising to keep untarnished the sword and shield which that monarch had presented unto his grandson, as his first gift of manhood. And the King blessed the youth, giving unto him also the noblest charger in the royal stables. Then Tamineh buckled on his sword, and bound about his wrist the amulet of the house of Zal, speaking naught but brave words unto her son. And so, proud and happy, they sent him forth.

After this, it is recorded that brave Sohrab fought in many battles, conducting himself with so much wisdom and valor that all men spake his praise. But notwithstanding his victories and growing fame, the youth was not content. For, in the thick of battle, as in his quiet hours of dreaming, one great wish ever possessed his soul—to meet his father, the Mighty Rustem, face to face, and win his word of praise.

So, pondering ever his great desire, Sohrab knew no peace until finally he decided to go in search of his father; and having arrived at this decision, straightway he sought out his grandsire, beseeching his counsel and aid. Now the King of Samengan, rejoicing in the courage and prowess of Sohrab, having listened unto his desire, quickly opened unto him the doors of his treasury, pouring forth gold without stint, for he loved the boy tenderly. And as a sign of his good pleasure, he also, at this time, invested his grandson with all the honors of a King.

As for Tamineh, beholding that her son’s charger now quivered beneath his weight, quickly she commanded the guardians of the herd that they lead forth all the royal horses before Sohrab that he might choose him a war-steed worthy this glorious enterprise. But alas! one and all bowed themselves beneath his weight, even as they had when tested by the Mighty Rustem, when he chose his steed of battle. But presently there came before Sohrab one who told of a beautiful foal—sprung from Rustem’s glorious Rakush—clean-limbed, strong, and beautiful, which, having tested, Sohrab declared perfect. In his joy, therefore, he cried out gaily unto his mother:

“Fair Queen of the World! Behold, the brave sons of Rustem and of Rakush crave thy blessing ere they go forth in search of laurels and a sunny crown to grace thy glorious tresses—one of which thy hero craveth that he may seem in truth to carry thee ever near his heart.”

Alas! Tamineh, as she gazed at her splendid son, longed neither for laurels nor a crown, but only to joy in his glorious presence forever—for such is the way of mothers. Nevertheless, meeting banter with banter, graciously she allowed that one dark lock be severed from her abundant tresses, and she smiled as she noted the admiration and love exhibited by the nobles and warriors who flocked so gladly to Sohrab’s standard. Yea, and deep in her heart she longed to be a youth that she, too, might follow this glorious young leader, watching over his safety in the capacity of devoted body-guard.

And well if this might have been! for, though Tamineh suspected it not, on this expedition, much Sohrab was to need the offices of a wise, devoted, and loyal companion, since he had enemies who, even as he recruited his army, were plotting his destruction. Indeed yes, and of these Afrasiab was the instigator, for upon hearing the news of Sohrab’s intention, straightway he called unto him Human and Barman, two of his most doughty chieftains, and said unto them:

“O my Pehliva, listen unto my voice, for verily I have a plan which shall rid us of all our enemies. For behold! it is known unto me that Sohrab is sprung from that great disturber of our progress, Rustem the Mighty, who suspecteth not that he hath a son. It must be hidden from him, therefore, who it is that cometh out against him, for these two champions will surely meet in battle, and it may be that the young lion will kill the old one. Now if that shall come to pass, behold, Iran, devoid of Rustem, will fall an easy prey into our hands; and when that shall have happened, it will be an easy matter to take Sohrab by stratagem and slay him. If, on the other hand, however, Rustem should slay his son, then would his heart be devoured with grief, so that he would trouble his enemies no more.”

So spake Afrasiab unto his chiefs, and having poured out all his guile, he bade them quickly gather together a great army to join the ranks of Sohrab, and depart unto Samengan. And behold, they bare with them gifts of great price to set before the face of Sohrab, and they carried unto him also a letter from the King, filled with words of honey. And the letter said:

“O Glorious Stripling, whose equal existeth not in all the world, behold, the King laudeth thy valorous resolve to bring Iran unto thy feet, and he sendeth unto thee a mighty army that right speedily Turan, Iran and Samengan may be one land, and all the world at peace.”

So Sohrab, thus encouraged by the King, and unsuspicious of his guile, caused the cymbals of departure to be sounded, and the army set forth upon its tour of conquest. Now the track of this youthful conqueror was marked by desolation and destruction, but behold, he marched on unstayed until he was come unto the White Fortress, which was the key to the heart of Persia.

Now the governor of this stronghold was Gustahem the brave, an old and famous warrior, but now, alas, so feeble that he could assist in the defence of the fort only by his counsel. He had under him, however, a young captain, Hujir by name, who was known unto the enemy as a very brave and powerful champion, so the White Castle was considered impregnable. Believing themselves to be secure, therefore, when Hujir beheld from afar a dark cloud of armed men, with gallant Sohrab at their head, immediately he donned his armor and rushed forward to challenge him, crying arrogantly:

“Halt, thou Stripling! for if thou venturest one step nearer, verily I will lop off that towering head of thine, and give thy soft, baby flesh unto yon hungry vultures for food.”

But behold! this fierce menace deterred not for a single second the onward course of Sohrab, who, hesitating not, boldly charged the champion, quickly o’ercoming him. For, though Hujir fought bravely, in the hands of Rustem’s mighty son he was naught but an infant. Seeing himself at the mercy of the invader, therefore, humbly the vanquished hero begged for quarter, and Sohrab, who was young and tender of heart, granted unto his adversary his life, binding him with cords and sending him captive unto Human.

Howbeit, though successful in this encounter, Sohrab was to face another adversary upon this eventful day—one powerful in a fashion of which he dreamed not. For behold, it is chronicled that in the Fort there also dwelt the lovely daughter of Gustahem, a war-like maid, skilled in athletic sports, and famed for her exploits in many a battle. Now the name of the maiden was Gurdafrid, and beholding the overthrow of Hujir, her heart was filled with anger and shame.

So, filled with fury, quickly the warrior-maiden clothed herself in burnished mail, hiding her glorious tresses under an iron helmet. Then, mounting her fiery steed, she rode boldly forth from out the gates of the White Castle, fiercely challenging the enemy to produce a champion worthy to meet her in combat, that thus the fate of the Fort might be decided.

But behold! none answered the challenge, for all thought that they gazed upon a mighty warrior, not knowing that the burnished steel hid naught but a woman with quickly-beating heart. Seeing that none of his warriors desired to take up the challenge, therefore, once more gallant Sohrab stepped gayly forth, crying: