Chapter 8

When the battle ceased Kárun fell back upon Dehstán, and communicated his misfortune to Nauder, who lamented the loss of Kobád, even more than that of Sám. In the morning Kárun again took the field against Afrásiyáb, and the conflict was again terrible. Nauder boldly opposed himself to the enemy, and singling out Afrásiyáb, the two heroes fought with great bravery till night again put an end to the engagement. The Persian army had suffered most, and Nauder retired to his tent disappointed, fatigued, and sorrowful. He then called to mind the words of Minúchihr, and called for his two sons, Tús and Gustahem. With melancholy forebodings he directed them to return to Irán, with his shubistán, or domestic establishment, and take refuge on the mountain Alberz, in the hope that some one of the race of Feridún might survive the general ruin which seemed to be approaching.

The armies rested two days. On the third the reverberating noise of drums and trumpets announced the recommencement of the battle. On the Persian side Shahpúr had been appointed in the room of Kobád, and Bármán and Shíwáz led the right and left of the Túránians under Afrásiyáb.

From dawn to sunset, mountain, plain, and stream, Were hid from view; the earth, beneath the tread Of myriads, groaned; and when the javelins cast Long shadows on the plain at even-tide, The Tartar host had won the victory; And many a Persian chief fell on that day:-- Shahpúr himself was slain.

When Nauder and Kárun saw the unfortunate result of the battle, they again fell back upon Dehstán, and secured themselves in the fort. Afrásiyáb in the meantime despatched Karúkhán to Irán, through the desert, with a body of horsemen, for the purpose of intercepting and capturing the shubistán of Nauder. As soon as Kárun heard of this expedition he was all on fire, and proposed to pursue the squadron under Karúkhán, and frustrate at once the object which the enemy had in view; and though Nauder was unfavorable to this movement, Kárun, supported by several of the chiefs and a strong volunteer force, set off at midnight, without permission, on this important enterprise. It was not long before they reached the Duz-i-Supêd, or white fort, of which Gustahem was the governor, and falling in with Bármán, who was also pushing forward to Persia, Kárun, in revenge for his brother Kobád, sought him out, and dared him to single combat. He threw his javelin with such might, that his antagonist was driven furiously from his horse; and then, dismounting, he cut off his head, and hung it at his saddle-bow. After this he attacked and defeated the Tartar troops, and continued his march towards Irán.

Nauder having found that Kárun had departed, immediately followed, and Afrásiyáb was not long in pursuing him. The Túránians at length came up with Nauder, and attacked him with great vigor. The unfortunate king, unable to parry the onset, fell into the hands of his enemies, together with upwards of one thousand of his famous warriors.

Long fought they, Nauder and the Tartar-chief, And the thick dust which rose from either host, Darkened the rolling Heavens. Afrásiyáb Seized by the girdle-belt the Persian king, And furious, dragged him from his foaming horse. With him a thousand warriors, high in name, Were taken on the field; and every legion, Captured whilst flying from the victor's brand.

Such are the freaks of Fortune: friend and foe Alternate wear the crown. The world itself Is an ingenious juggler--every moment Playing some novel trick; exalting one In pomp and splendour, crushing down another, As if in sport,--and death the end of all!

After the achievement of this victory Afrásiyáb directed that Kárun should be pursued and attacked wherever he might be found; but when he heard that he had hurried on for the protection of the shubistán, and had conquered and slain Bármán, he gnawed his hands with rage. The reign of Nauder lasted only seven years. After him Afrásiyáb was the master of Persia.

AFRÁSIYÁB

It has already been said that Shimasás and Khazerván were sent by Afrásiyáb with thirty thousand men against Kábul and Zábul, and when Zál heard of this movement he forthwith united with Mihráb the chief of Kábul, and having first collected a large army in Sístán, had a conflict with the two Tartar generals.

Zál promptly donned himself in war attire, And, mounted like a hero, to the field Hastened, his soldiers frowning on their steeds. Now Khazerván grasps his huge battle-axe, And, his broad shield extending, at one blow Shivers the mail of Zál, who calls aloud As, like a lion, to the fight he springs, Armed with his father's mace. Sternly he looks And with the fury of a dragon, drives The weapon through his adversary's head, Staining the ground with streaks of blood, resembling The waving stripes upon a tiger's back.

At this time Rustem was confined at home with the smallpox. Upon the death of Khazerván, Shimasás thirsted to be revenged; but when Zál meeting him raised his mace, and began to close, the chief became alarmed and turned back, and all his squadrons followed his example.

Fled Shimasás, and all his fighting train, Like herds by tempests scattered o'er the plain.

Zál set off in pursuit, and slew a great number of the enemy; but when Afrásiyáb was made acquainted with this defeat, he immediately released Nauder from his fetters, and in his rage instantly deprived him of life.

He struck him and so deadly was the blow, Breath left the body in a moment's space.

After this Afrásiyáb turned his views towards Tús and Gustahem in the hope of getting them into his hands; but as soon as they received intimation of his object, the two brothers retired from Irán, and went to Sístán to live under the protection of Zál. The champion received them with due respect and honor. Kárun also went, with all the warriors and people who had been supported by Nauder, and co-operated with Zál, who encouraged them with the hopes of future success. Zál, however, considered that both Tús and Gustahem were still of a tender age--that a monarch of extraordinary wisdom and energy was required to oppose Afrásiyáb--that he himself was not of the blood of the Kais, nor fit for the duties of sovereignty, and, therefore, he turned his thoughts towards Aghríras, the younger brother of Afrásiyáb, distinguished as he was for his valor, prudence, and humanity, and to whom Poshang, his father, had given the government of Raí. To him Zál sent an envoy, saying, that if he would proceed to Sístán, he should be supplied with ample resources to place him on the throne of Persia; that by the co-operation of Zál and all his warriors the conquest would be easy, and that there would be no difficulty in destroying the power of Afrásiyáb. Aghríras accepted the offer, and immediately proceeded from his kingdom of Raí towards Sístán. On his arrival at Bábel, Afrásiyáb heard of his ambitious plans, and lost no time in assembling his army and marching to arrest the progress of his brother. Aghríras, unable to sustain a battle, had recourse to negotiation and a conference, in which Afrásiyáb said to him, "What rebellious conduct is this, of which thou art guilty? Is not the country of Raí sufficient for thee, that thou art thus aspiring to be a great king?" Aghríras replied: "Why reproach and insult me thus? Art thou not ashamed to accuse another of rebellious conduct?

"Shame might have held thy tongue; reprove not me In bitterness; God did not give thee power To injure man, and surely not thy kin." Afrásiyáb, enraged at this reproof, Replied by a foul deed--he grasped his sword, And with remorseless fury slew his brother!

When intelligence of this cruel catastrophe came to Zál's ears, he exclaimed: "Now indeed has the empire of Afrásiyáb arrived at its crisis:

"Yes, yes, the tyrant's throne is tottering now, And past is all his glory."

Then Zál bound his loins in hostility against Afrásiyáb, and gathering together all his warriors, resolved upon taking revenge for the death of Nauder, and expelling the tyrant from Persia. Neither Tús nor Gustahem being yet capable of sustaining the cares and duties of the throne, his anxiety was to obtain the assistance of some one of the race of Feridún.

These youths were for imperial rule unfit: A king of royal lineage and worth The state required, and none could he remember Save Tahmasp's son, descended from the blood Of Feridún.

ZAU

At the time when Sílim and Túr were killed, Tahmasp, the son of Sílim, fled from the country and took refuge in an island, where he died, and left a son named Zau. Zál sent Kárun, the son of Kavah, attended by a proper escort, with overtures to Zau, who readily complied, and was under favorable circumstances seated upon the throne:

Speedily, in arms, He led his troops to Persia, fought, and won A kingdom, by his power and bravery-- And happy was the day when princely Zau Was placed upon that throne of sovereignty; All breathed their prayers upon his future reign, And o'er his head (the customary rite) Shower'd gold and jewels.

When he had subdued the country, he turned his arms against Afrásiyáb, who in consequence of losing the co-operation of the Persians, and not being in a state to encounter a superior force, thought it prudent to retreat, and return to his father. The reign of Zau lasted five years, after which he died, and was succeeded by his son Garshásp.

GARSHÁSP

Garshásp, whilst in his minority, being unacquainted with the affairs of government, abided in all things by the judgment and counsels of Zál. When Afrásiyáb arrived at Túrán, his father was in great distress and anger on account of the inhuman murder of Aghríras; and so exceedingly did he grieve, that he would not endure his presence.

And when Afrásiyáb returned, his sire, Poshang, in grief, refused to see his face. To him the day of happiness and joy Had been obscured by the dark clouds of night; And thus he said: "Why didst thou, why didst _thou_ In power supreme, without pretence of guilt, With thy own hand his precious life destroy? Why hast thou shed thy innocent brother's blood? In this life thou art nothing now to me; Away, I must not see thy face again."

Afrásiyáb continued offensive and despicable in the mind of his father till he heard that Garshásp was unequal to rule over Persia, and then thinking he could turn the warlike spirit of Afrásiyáb to advantage, he forgave the crime of his son. He forthwith collected an immense army, and sent him again to effect the conquest of Irán, under the pretext of avenging the death of Sílim and Túr.

Afrásiyáb a mighty army raised, And passing plain and river, mountain high, And desert wild, filled all the Persian realm With consternation, universal dread.

The chief authorities of the country applied to Zál as their only remedy against the invasion of Afrásiyáb.

They said to Zál, "How easy is the task For thee to grasp the world--then, since thou canst Afford us succour, yield the blessing now; For, lo! the King Afrásiyáb has come, In all his power and overwhelming might."

Zál replied that he had on this occasion appointed Rustem to command the army, and to oppose the invasion of Afrásiyáb.

And thus the warrior Zál to Rustem spoke-- "Strong as an elephant thou art, my son, Surpassing thy companions, and I now Forewarn thee that a difficult emprize, Hostile to ease or sleep, demands thy care. 'Tis true, of battles thou canst nothing know, But what am I to do? This is no time For banquetting, and yet thy lips still breathe The scent of milk, a proof of infancy; Thy heart pants after gladness and the sweet Endearments of domestic life; can I Then send thee to the war to cope with heroes Burning with wrath and vengeance?" Rustem said-- "Mistake me not, I have no wish, not I, For soft endearments, nor domestic life, Nor home-felt joys. This chest, these nervous limbs, Denote far other objects of pursuit, Than a luxurious life of ease and pleasure."

Zál having taken great pains in the instruction of Rustem in warlike exercises, and the rules of battle, found infinite aptitude in the boy, and his activity and skill seemed to be superior to his own. He thanked God for the comfort it gave him, and was glad. Then Rustem asked his father for a suitable mace; and seeing the huge weapon which was borne by the great Sám, he took it up, and it answered his purpose exactly.

When the young hero saw the mace of Sám He smiled with pleasure, and his heart rejoiced; And paying homage to his father Zál, The champion of the age, asked for a steed Of corresponding power, that he might use That famous club with added force and vigor.

Zál showed him all the horses in his possession, and Rustem tried many, but found not one of sufficient strength to suit him. At last his eyes fell upon a mare followed by a foal of great promise, beauty, and strength.

Seeing that foal, whose bright and glossy skin Was dappled o'er, like blossoms of the rose Upon a saffron lawn, Rustem prepared His noose, and held it ready in his hand.

The groom recommended him to secure the foal, as it was the offspring of Abresh, born of a Díw, or Demon, and called Rakush. The dam had killed several persons who attempted to seize her young one.

Now Rustem flings the noose, and suddenly Rakush secures. Meanwhile the furious mare Attacks him, eager with her pointed teeth To crush his brain--but, stunned by his loud cry, She stops in wonder. Then with clenched hand He smites her on the head and neck, and down She tumbles, struggling in the pangs of death.

Rakush, however, though with the noose round his neck, was not so easily subdued; but kept dragging and pulling Rustem, as if by a tether, and it was a considerable time before the animal could be reduced to subjection. At last, Rustem thanked Heaven that he had obtained the very horse he wanted.

"Now am I with my horse prepared to join The field of warriors!" Thus the hero said, And placed the saddle on his charger. Zál Beheld him with delight,--his withered heart Glowing with summer freshness. Open then He threw his treasury--thoughtless of the past Or future--present joy absorbing all His faculties, and thrilling every nerve.

In a short time Zál sent Rustem with a prodigious army against Afrásiyáb, and two days afterwards set off himself and joined his son. Afrásiyáb said, "The son is but a boy, and the father is old; I shall have no difficulty in recovering the empire of Persia." These observations having reached Zál, he pondered deeply, considering that Garshásp would not be able to contend against Afrásiyáb, and that no other prince of the race of Feridún was known to be in existence. However, he despatched people in every quarter to gather information on the subject, and at length Kai-kobád was understood to be residing in obscurity on the mountain Alberz, distinguished for his wisdom and valor, and his qualifications for the exercise of sovereign power. Zál therefore recommended Rustem to proceed to Alberz, and bring him from his concealment.

Thus Zál to Rustem spoke, "Go forth, my son, And speedily perform this pressing duty, To linger would be dangerous. Say to him, 'The army is prepared--the throne is ready, And thou alone, of the Kaiánian race, Deemed fit for sovereign rule.'"

Rustem accordingly mounted Rakush, and accompanied by a powerful force, pursued his way towards the mountain Alberz; and though the road was infested by the troops of Afrásiyáb, he valiantly overcame every difficulty that was opposed to his progress. On reaching the vicinity of Alberz, he observed a beautiful spot of ground studded with luxuriant trees, and watered by glittering rills. There too, sitting upon a throne, placed in the shade on the flowery margin of a stream, he saw a young man, surrounded by a company of friends and attendants, and engaged at a gorgeous entertainment. Rustem, when he came near, was hospitably invited to partake of the feast: but this he declined, saying, that he was on an important mission to Alberz, which forbade the enjoyment of any pleasure till his task was accomplished; in short, that he was in search of Kai-kobád: but upon being told that he would there receive intelligence of him, he alighted and approached the bank of the stream where the company was assembled. The young man who was seated upon the golden throne took hold of the hand of Rustem, and filling up a goblet with wine, gave another to his guest, and asked him at whose command or suggestion he was in search of Kai-kobád. Rustem replied, that he was sent by his father Zál, and frankly communicated to him the special object they had in view. The young man, delighted with the information, immediately discovered himself, acknowledged that he was Kai-kobád, and then Rustem respectfully hailed him as the sovereign of Persia.

The banquet was resumed again-- And, hark, the softly warbled strain, As harp and flute, in union sweet, The voices of the singers meet. The black-eyed damsels now display Their art in many an amorous lay; And now the song is loud and clear, And speaks of Rustem's welcome here. "This is a day, a glorious day, That drives ungenial thoughts away; This is a day to make us glad, Since Rustem comes for Kai-kobád; O, let us pass our time in glee, And talk of Jemshíd's majesty, The pomp and glory of his reign, And still the sparkling goblet drain.-- Come, Sakí, fill the wine-cup high, And let not even its brim be dry; For wine alone has power to part The rust of sorrow from the heart. Drink to the king, in merry mood, Since fortune smiles, and wine is good; Quaffing red wine is better far Than shedding blood in strife, or war; Man is but dust, and why should he Become a fire of enmity? Drink deep, all other cares resign. For what can vie with ruby wine?"

In this manner ran the song of the revellers. After which, and being rather merry with wine, Kai-kobád told Rustem of the dream that had induced him to descend from his place of refuge on Alberz, and to prepare a banquet on the occasion. He dreamt the night before that two white falcons from Persia placed a splendid crown upon his head, and this vision was interpreted by Rustem as symbolical of his father and himself, who at that moment were engaged in investing him with kingly power. The hero then solicited the young sovereign to hasten his departure for Persia, and preparations were made without delay. They travelled night and day, and fell in with several detachments of the enemy, which were easily repulsed by the valor of Rustem. The fiercest attack proceeded from Kelún, one of Afrásiyáb's warriors, near the confines of Persia, who in the encounter used his spear with great dexterity and address.

But Rustem with his javelin soon transfixed The Tartar knight--who in the eyes of all Looked like a spitted chicken--down he sunk, And all his soldiers fled in wild dismay. Then Rustem turned aside, and found a spot Where verdant meadows smiled, and streamlets flowed, Inviting weary travellers to rest. There they awhile remained--and when the sun Went down, and night had darkened all the sky, The champion joyfully pursued his way, And brought the monarch to his father's house. --Seven days they sat in council--on the eighth Young Kai-kobád was crowned--and placed upon The ivory throne in presence of his warriors, Who all besought him to commence the war Against the Tartar prince, Afrásiyáb.

KAI-KOBÁD

Kai-kobád having been raised to the throne at a council of the warriors, and advised to oppose the progress of Afrásiyáb, immediately assembled his army. Mihráb, the ruler of Kábul, was appointed to one wing, and Gustahem to the other--the centre was given to Kárun and Kishwád, and Rustem was placed in front, Zál with Kai-kobád remaining in the rear. The glorious standard of Kavah streamed upon the breeze.

On the other side, Afrásiyáb prepared for battle, assisted by his heroes Akbás, Wísah, Shimasás, and Gersíwaz; and so great was the clamor and confusion which proceeded from both armies, that earth and sky seemed blended together.[8] The clattering of hoofs, the shrill roar of trumpets, the rattle of brazen drums, and the vivid glittering of spear and shield, produced indescribable tumult and splendor.

Kárun was the first in action, and he brought many a hero to the ground. He singled out Shimasás; and after a desperate struggle, laid him breathless on the field. Rustem, stimulated by these exploits, requested his father, Zál, to point out Afrásiyáb, that he might encounter him; but Zál endeavored to dissuade him from so hopeless an effort, saying,

"My son, be wise, and peril not thyself; Black is his banner, and his cuirass black-- His limbs are cased in iron--on his head He wears an iron helm--and high before him Floats the black ensign; equal in his might To ten strong men, he never in one place Remains, but everywhere displays his power. The crocodile has in the rolling stream No safety; and a mountain, formed of steel, Even at the mention of Afrásiyáb, Melts into water. Then, beware of him." Rustem replied:--"Be not alarmed for me-- My heart, my arm, my dagger, are my castle, And Heaven befriends me--let him but appear, Dragon or Demon, and the field is mine."

Then Rustem valiantly urged Rakush towards the Túránian army, and called out aloud. As soon as Afrásiyáb beheld him, he inquired who he could be, and he was told, "This is Rustem, the son of Zál. Seest thou not in his hand the battle-axe of Sám? The youth has come in search of renown." When the combatants closed, they struggled for some time together, and at length Rustem seized the girdle-belt of his antagonist, and threw him from his saddle. He wished to drag the captive as a trophy to Kai-kobád, that his first great victory might be remembered, but unfortunately the belt gave way, and Afrásiyáb fell on the ground. Immediately the fallen chief was surrounded and rescued by his own warriors, but not before Rustem had snatched off his crown, and carried it away with the broken girdle which was left in his hand. And now a general engagement took place. Rustem being reinforced by the advance of the king, with Zál and Mihráb at his side--

Both armies seemed so closely waging war, Thou wouldst have said, that they were mixed together. The earth shook with the tramping of the steeds, Rattled the drums; loud clamours from the troops Echoed around, and from the iron grasp Of warriors, many a life was spent in air. With his huge mace, cow-headed, Rustem dyed The ground with crimson--and wherever seen, Urging impatiently his fiery horse, Heads severed fell like withered leaves in autumn. If, brandishing his sword, he struck the head, Horseman and steed were downward cleft in twain-- And if his side-long blow was on the loins, The sword passed through, as easily as the blade Slices a cucumber. The blood of heroes Deluged the plain. On that tremendous day, With sword and dagger, battle-axe and noose,[9] He cut, and tore, and broke, and bound the brave, Slaying and making captive. At one swoop More than a thousand fell by his own hand.