Part 25

“Saw you ever such limbs, and such a chest on mortal man? Surely Gushtasp is bereft of reason, or never would he send Isfendiyar thus unto his death. But alas! the old Shah huggeth his throne and his treasure ever closer as age creepeth on, caring naught for the welfare of Iran.”

But, all unconscious of the admiration and fear he was exciting, Rustem, hot and angry, presented himself before the Prince, saying:

“O Young Man, thou mayest be a hero, but certainly thou seemest not to be acquainted with the laws of courtesy due unto an invited guest, since thou deemest him not worthy of a messenger. But perhaps thou knowest not that it is Rustem whom thou treatest thus disdainfully?—Rustem, whose glorious deeds have made the throne of Iran to shine as a beacon light unto all the world!”

Now Isfendiyar, abashed at the anger of the Great Pehliva, excused himself for his breach of courtesy, saying:

“O Mighty One, verily I had thought to save thee the long, hot journey hither; but since thou art come, pray enter, and let us drink a cup of wine together.”

Now, thus speaking, behold! Isfendiyar offered unto Rustem a place at his left hand, smiling courteously:

But Rustem, advancing proudly, said quietly unto Isfendiyar:

“Not at thy left, O Prince, for never yet hath Rustem sat save at the right hand of the Shahs of Iran.”

Thus spake Rustem, and behold! so majestic was the mien of the old Hero, as he thus calmly asserted his rights, that at once a chair of gold was brought and placed at Isfendiyar’s right hand. But, though outwardly calm, the heart of Rustem burned at the dishonor done unto him, and even the wine soothed not his ruffled spirit. Yea, and the unfavorable impression made by the Prince was further increased by his words. For, after drinking for a few minutes in silence, he said:

“So thou hast ever sat at the right hand of Kings, Old Warrior! Strange! for surely it hath been said unto me that Rustem is sprung of evil stock. Now, truly, is not Zal, thy father, of demon extraction? And was he not reared by a vile bird that gave unto him garbage for nourishment? So, at least, it hath been reported unto me.”

Alas! this was an insult too biting for Rustem to bear with any degree of patience, so, frowning angrily, he said:

“Thou and I, O Prince, can boast of the same origin, as thou well knowest, since we are both descended from Husheng the Shah. Why, then, use such injurious language? Yea, and would it not, perhaps, be becoming for Isfendiyar to remember that but for the honor and fidelity of Rustem and his house unto the Shahs, Isfendiyar of the Heft-Khan would not be numbered among the heroes of Iran? But, after all, what hath he done? Why! he hath slain Arjasp, one puny King, while over against that is the long record of Rustem’s glorious deeds, which need not to be recounted.”

Now Rustem’s vehemence and the disdainful tone of his voice made it hard for Isfendiyar to remember the courtesy due unto a guest, but, restraining his anger, he said softly unto him:

“O Modest One! Why dost thou raise thy voice so high and speak so loftily? For, after all, thou wert, and art still, but the slave of the Shah, dependent for thy very breath upon his clemency. And after all, what were thy seven boasted labors to my terrible Heft-Khan? And who, I ask you,—by the power of his sword—diffused the blessings of the faith of Zerdusht throughout the world? Verily, Rustem hath performed the duties of a warrior and a servant, but Isfendiyar the holy functions of a sovereign and a prophet. But now have we boasted enough, for behold, the day is almost ended and I am hungry. Let us eat and drink, therefore, for to-morrow will we meet in enmity upon the field of battle.”

So a great banquet was spread, and the two heroes sat down to feast, Rustem astonishing Isfendiyar greatly, for never had the Prince dreamed that mortal man could eat and drink so much, and he wondered not now that Rustem’s might was reckoned equal to that of a hundred strong men. When the time of departure was come, however, once more Rustem begged Isfendiyar to be his guest on the morrow, but again the Prince refused. Then the Hero knew that words were idle, and he was sorrowful in his soul, for within himself he said:

“Truly the Evil One is in this whole affair, and no good can come of it. Now if I suffer these chains, men will mock that Rustem permitted a boy to bind him, and the dishonor of it can never be wiped out. Yet if I slay this stripling on the morrow, the glory of a lifetime will be tarnished, for men will say that in his last days Rustem lifted up his hand against one of the royal house.”

Nevertheless, concealing his sorrow and dismay, he replied gaily unto Isfendiyar, saying:

“So be it then, O Stubborn One! to-morrow will we meet in conflict, since naught else will content thee. And behold! when I shall have lifted thee lightly from off thy saddle, straight will I convey thee unto Silver-crowned Zal, who shall place thee upon the ivory throne, while upon thy head a crown of gold shall glitter. Yea, and when that we have feasted, right loyally our troops shall fight for thee as King, and we will serve thee faithfully as thy Pehliva forever and a day.”

But Isfendiyar, thinking that Rustem mocked, said angrily:

“Old Man! Verily thou hadst best save thy breath for combat, since to-morrow, by the aid of Zerdusht, will I make the world dark unto thine eyes.”

Then Rustem, laughing, said:

“O Foolish Youth, when Rustem wieldeth his mace, behold, the world trembleth, and the head of his enemy falls. Consider, therefore, thy course.”

Now when he had thus spoken, Rustem rode forth from out the tents of Isfendiyar, and though his lips smiled, his heart was heavy with foreboding. Nevertheless, when he was come unto his palace, he commanded that his armor and implements of war be brought before him. Then, as he gazed upon them, sighing, he said:

“O my raiment of battle, verily thou hast rested long, yet once again must I don thee for combat. And alas! I greatly fear me that it is for my last fight.”

But behold! when sunshine once more flooded the world, then the Pehliva threw off his sadness, for he resolved once more to speak persuasive words unto the Prince. So, having received his father’s blessing, he armed himself for battle, and rode forth unto the tents of Isfendiyar, and lo! when he was come near, he shouted gaily:

“Ho, Brave Isfendiyar! Why sleepest thou when the hero with whom thou wouldst try thy strength hath come forth to meet thee?”

Now Isfendiyar, at this call, quickly issued from his tent, and, leaping upon his charger, rode like the wind unto his waiting antagonist. So the two met, the old warrior and the young, and truly they were a doughty pair. But Rustem’s efforts at persuasion were vain, for Isfendiyar would hear of naught but battle.

So, after the useless controversy, behold, the Champions began their combat. Now they began the fight with their spears, but as the contest lasted for long hours, they tested their strength and skill successively with their swords, clubs, and lassos; but still the end came not. For, though they fought until both they and their horses were worn out with weariness, neither could prevail. So they stopped them awhile to rest.

But behold! as they rested, Bahman, the son of Isfendiyar, rushed up to his father, informing him that Rustem’s lieutenants had provoked a battle between the two armies, and that as a consequence two valiant youths, sons of Isfendiyar, were slain, and the Shah’s troops put to rout with great slaughter. Then was Isfendiyar transported with rage. Calling aloud unto Rustem, therefore, he said:

“Ho, Old Man! Dost thou hear this? Thy chiefs have fallen upon my troops, killing my two brave sons. Verily, I had thought such treachery beneath the Mighty Rustem.”

Now when Rustem heard these words, behold, he trembled like a leaf. But he said:

“O Isfendiyar, I swear unto thee by the head of the King, by the sun, and by my conquering sword, that no part have I had in this matter. Yea, and to prove it unto thee, I swear that whoever hath been in fault, even though it be my dearest, lo, he shall be bound hand and foot and given over unto thee for vengeance.”

But, unplacated, the Prince cried angrily unto Rustem:

“Verily, O Treacherous One, thy words have a pleasant sound, but I say unto thee, it is idle to kill the snake that the peacock’s death may be avenged. Thine own blood, therefore, shall pay for that of my sons, for verily my arrows shall make the world dark unto thine eyes.”

Now thus saying, Isfendiyar seized his bow, and whiz! whiz! went a shower of arrows through the air, fastening themselves in the body of Rustem and Rakush, his steed. Yea, twice thirty arrows were there in all, and not one of them was there that did not wound the Hero or his horse, while Rustem’s missiles fell harmless upon Isfendiyar, because that Zerdusht had charmed his body against all danger so that it was like unto brass.

Then Rustem, seeing that Rakush was like to perish of his wounds, and feeling also his own strength going from loss of blood, cried unto Isfendiyar:

“Behold, night is at hand, O Angry One, and since even heroes cannot combat in the darkness, go thy way, and we will meet again in the morning.”

But Isfendiyar, seeing that Rustem staggered in his saddle, said:

“Old Man, think not to escape me thus, for yet there is light enough to finish our combat.”

But Rustem replied unto the Eager One:

“Not so, O Isfendiyar! Farewell, therefore, until morning.”

Now so saying, quickly Rustem turned him and swam across the stream. And behold! Isfendiyar was amazed, for he knew that both steed and rider were sore wounded. Then, standing upon the bank, with his lips he reviled the fleeing Hero, but lo! in his heart he was filled with admiration and wonder at his prowess.

And now, Rustem having escaped him, sorrowfully Isfendiyar returned unto his tent, where he mourned over the bodies of his two sons. But when the night was far spent, lo, he placed them on biers of ebony, in coffins of gold, and sent them unto the Shah with this message:

“O King of Evil Devices! Behold, I am sending unto thee the first fruits of thy seeds of guile. Isfendiyar is yet alive, but Heaven alone knoweth what may befall to-morrow.”

Then the Prince said unto his brother:

“O Bashutan, my brother! Verily this Rustem is not mortal. For neither with my sword nor javelin could I do harm unto his body formed of rock and iron. But, thanks unto Zerdusht, the charmed arrows have done their work, and it will indeed be wonderful if the Mighty One liveth throughout the night.”

Meanwhile, when the wounded Hero, of whom Isfendiyar spoke thus feelingly, was come into the presence of Zal and Rudabeh, behold, they rent the air with their cries of woe; for never yet had Rustem returned unto them vanquished; neither had any man e’er done such harm unto his body. Now they cried out sore in their distress, and Rustem, too, lamented, for the pain of his wounds was great. Presently, however, seeing that the case of his son was indeed serious, Zal bethought him of a remedy. So he said:

“O my glorious son, mourn not so bitterly, for yet there is hope for thee, since in this, our extremity, once more I shall call unto our aid the Wondrous Bird of God.”

So at once Zal went forth unto a high mountain, taking with him three golden censers filled with fire, and as many mighty magicians, who caused the fires to glow brighter and ever brighter. And lo! at the end of the first watch of the night, Silver-crowned Zal dropped into the brightly glowing fire the glorious golden feather of the Simurgh. Then instantly a mighty stir of wings filled all the air, and the Wondrous Bird of God dropped down beside her child, listening sympathetically unto his plaint. And, the story being told, the Simurgh said:

“Let the Mighty Rustem and his glorious steed be brought unto me, for lo! there is healing in my wings.”

So quickly the magicians hastened back unto the palace, and though Rustem and Rakush had scarcely strength to move, yet went they unto the mountain with all the speed they could, pausing not until they were come into the presence of the Bird of God.

And now the glorious Simurgh, swiftly passing her golden beak over the body of the wounded Hero, drew thence four wicked arrow-heads. Then caressing the wounds softly and lightly with her fluffy wings, lo, in a moment, Rustem felt all his strength return. Yea, and Rakush, too, rejoiced, neighing, and tossing his mighty head for gladness when that the six charmed arrow-heads troubled his peace no more; and then, the work of healing done, the Simurgh said unto Rustem:

“Alas, O Son of Zal! Wherefore hast thou entered upon combat with the son of the Shah, and the beloved of Zerdusht? For verily it can bring thee naught but woe; and there is little that even I can do to aid thee. For never hath there appeared in the world so brave and so perfect a hero as Isfendiyar. Yea, and the favor of Heaven is with him also, for in his great Heft-Khan, by some clever artifice, he succeeded in killing a Simurgh, and the farther thou art removed from his invincible arm, therefore, the greater will be thy safety. For alas! in the Book of Fate it is written that whosoever sheddeth the blood of Isfendiyar, he also shall perish miserably, never again knowing joy in this life, and also suffering pangs in the life to come. But if this fate dismay thee not, come forth with me, and I will reveal unto thee a way to lay thine enemy low—if the stars decree that his hour is come.”

So, wishing not to face defeat, Rustem mounted into the golden chariot of which he had heard so oft from his father, and the Simurgh bare him far, far away, even unto the shores of a mighty sea. Now there she put the Hero down softly in a garden wherein grew a tamarisk-tree, whose roots were in the ground, but whose branches pierced unto heaven. Then the Simurgh said:

“O Glorious Son of Zal, I pray thee choose from this tree the longest, straightest and finest branch that thou canst find, for to this tamarisk bough is bound the fate of Isfendiyar. Yea, and after thou hast secured it, make it yet straighter before the fire, search out a well-tempered arrow-head, feather it well, and if Isfendiyar’s hour is come, this is the weapon which, when directed unto his forehead, will cause him to perish, for only through his eye can this hero be wounded, since Zerdusht hath made the rest of his body invulnerable. But yet once more I counsel thee, bring this matter to a good end, for so shalt thou escape much sorrow.”

Now having thus spoken, behold, the Simurgh carried Rustem safely back unto the palace of Zal, bidding him be of good cheer. After her departure, however, the Hero hastened to carry out her commands as to the fashioning of the fateful arrow.

But behold! when morning was come, Rustem mounted upon fiery Rakush, and rode serenely forth unto the camp of Isfendiyar. And lo! his antagonist yet slumbered, for he thought of a surety that Rustem must have perished from his wounds during the night. So, beholding that Isfendiyar yet slept, Rustem, lifting up his voice of thunder, cried:

“Ho, Brave Crocodile of War! Is it a time to slumber when thou hast challenged a hero to combat? Get thee up, for verily Rustem is not accustomed thus to be kept waiting.”

Now when Isfendiyar, thus awakened, beheld that it was really Rustem who awaited him without the tent, he was amazed. But quickly donning his armor, and mounting his horse, he soon appeared in the presence of Rustem, saying unto him:

“O Elephant-limbed Warrior! Yesterday thou wert wounded almost unto death by my arrows, and to-day there is no trace of them either upon thee or thy steed. Pray how is this?

“But, then, thy father, Zal, is a sorcerer, And he by charm and spell Hath cured all the wounds of the warrior, And now he is safe and well. For the wounds I gave could never be Closed up except by sorcery. Yea, the wounds I gave thee in every part Could never be cured but by magic art.”

Then Rustem, replying unto Isfendiyar, said:

“O Royal Archer! Know that if thou wert to shoot at me a thousand arrows, they would all drop harmless unto the ground. Therefore, let us be friends, and not only shalt thou be placed upon the throne, but all the treasure of the house of Zal shall be thine.”

But Isfendiyar replied impatiently unto Rustem:

“Brave Prater! Wilt thou never cease from thy idle talk? Now once for all I say unto thee that never will I forsake the paths of God by disobeying my father. Choose, therefore, between chains and battle.”

Then Rustem, seeing that his submission was not accepted, though he had offered to sacrifice much, bent his bow, and laid the arrow of tamarisk in rest, and so held it while he prayed unto God. And lo! the Prince, noting that the Hero delayed, thought that he did so from fear, and he taunted him. Then Rustem, hesitating no longer, let his arrow fly toward his enemy, and behold! it sped straight unto its mark, piercing the eye of Isfendiyar, so that the bow dropped from his hand, and he clutched at his horse’s mane. Yea,

“And darkness overspread his sight, The world to him was hid in night; The bow dropped from his slackened hand, And down he sank upon the sand.”

Now long Isfendiyar swooned, and his kinsmen and chiefs, beholding what had befallen, rent the air with their woe. But the Prince, when he revived, said unto them calmly:

“O Heroes of Iran, trouble not yourselves on account of my death, for it is not Rustem who hath slain me, nor the Simurgh, nor yet the magic arrow, but my father, who knowingly sent me forth unto my death, and verily the curse of the Great Prophet shall fall upon his head. As for thee, O Rustem, being but the instrument of fate, thou art guiltless in this matter, and that thou mayest know how I honor thee, I desire that thou take unto thee Bahman, my son, and rear him for Iran, even as thou didst noble Siawush, for lo! it hath been revealed unto me that Bahman will sit upon the throne that hath been denied unto me.”

Alas! having thus spoken, behold, Isfendiyar sighed, and the sun of his life was set, and great was the lamentation for the brave young hero lost unto Iran. As for Rustem, sorrowfully he made ready for Isfendiyar a coffin of gold, causing it to be lined with silken stuffs and perfumed with amber. Then he laid therein the valiant hero-prince of the Heft-Khan, and all beholding him wept with bitter sorrow. Tenderly then the coffin of gold was placed upon the back of a slow-moving dromedary, forty others following in its wake. And lo! there followed after them the brave army of the Prince, clad in robes of mourning, while Bashutan marched at the head of the sorrowful train, leading Isfendiyar’s horse, whose saddle was reversed and whose mane and tail were shorn, while from its sides hung the armor of the vanquished one. Now thus it was that they brought brave Isfendiyar back unto the palace of his fathers, and behold! all the world mourned this great loss unto Iran.

But while Iran sorrowed for Isfendiyar, behold, Bahman grew up in the courts of Rustem, the Pehliva loving him as a son. For in his heart he grieved bitterly that by his hand brave Isfendiyar had fallen. Yea, and he gloried not in his last great fight, even though he knew that now his star would shine on undimmed unto the end, and that the children of Ormuzd would sing his praises through all the ages as the one great unconquered hero of the Persians.

THE DEATH OF RUSTEM

Lo! it is chronicled by Firdusi, who, in his great epic poem, hath made immortal the heroes and kings of Persia, that Zal in his old age had born unto him a son of remarkable beauty. But alas! when the astrologers cast the horoscope of this beautiful babe, they read therein that few and evil would be the days of Shughad; that he would be the ruin of the house of his fathers, also bringing destruction upon the land of Iran.

Now Zal was overwhelmed with dismay when this message of the stars was communicated unto him, and he prayed continually unto Ormuzd that he would avert this terrible fate from the head of his boy. Yea, and he reared him carefully, sparing no pains to inculcate in the youth the principles of truth, honor, loyalty unto his house and unto the King.

Then, when Shughad was come unto man’s estate, Zal sent him unto the King of Kabul, who, when he saw that he was tall and handsome, and fit in every way to sit upon the throne, showed unto him great kindness, even giving unto him his daughter in marriage, and providing for him bountifully.

Now the King of Kabul paid tribute unto Rustem, every year being required to send unto the Hero of Seistan a bull’s hide as a token of sovereignty. And alas! this was a great grievance unto his soul, for he was proud in his spirit and desired to be bondsman unto none. So it was not alone kindness which prompted him to take Shughad unto him as his son, for in his heart he hoped thus to have the tribute remitted.

But behold! when the proper time came, Rustem sent his messenger as usual to demand the bull’s hide, which made the King very angry. So, in his disappointment, he hesitated not to express his opinion of Rustem’s conduct unto Shughad, stirring up his mind against his brother. Then Shughad, becoming angry and discontented also, said unto the King:

“Verily, since my elder brother hath behaved unto me thus unkindly, in my heart he shall be unto me no more than a stranger. Let us consider, therefore, how we may ensnare him.”

So all night the King and Shughad talked and pondered how they might rid the world of Rustem, and at last they decided upon a scheme.

Consequently, it came to pass that presently the King of Kabul gave a great feast, and when all had become excited with wine, behold, Shughad, the son of Zal, began to boast of his lineage, saying:

“Verily, Shughad alone of all this great company should be toasted! Yea, and I except not even the King, our host! For is not the Mighty Rustem my brother? And do I not come from a long line of heroes, extending from Husheng the Shah even unto Zal of the white hair?”

Now hearing this, lo, the King sprang up in pretended wrath, saying:

“Upstart! Thinkest thou to lord it over me, the King of Kabul? Verily, nay! For thou art really no brother unto Rustem, since thy mother was but a slave in thy father’s household. Therefore, boast not so loudly.”

Then Shughad, feigning great anger, hastily left the banqueting-halls, threatening to call forth Rustem to avenge the insulting words of the King. So, with guile in his heart, the Prince rode forth unto the palace of his brother. And behold! after they had exchanged greetings, Rustem said:

“And how fares it with thee at Kabul, O my brother? Art thou still happy and contented in the King’s palace?”

Then Shughad, rejoicing at the opening thus given him, said:

“I pray thee do not speak unto me of Kabul, for the word is hateful unto mine ears. For verily this night hath the King insulted me beyond bearing. Yea, and thee, too, and my father! So I came away in a rage, and never will I return until the vile words which he spake of my family are avenged.”

Now when Rustem learned what had been spoken by the King of Kabul, he said unto Shughad:

“O my brother, trouble not thyself concerning this matter, for verily it shall bring thee naught but gain. Alas! ever hath the King of Kabul been vain and arrogant of spirit, but for this he shall be humbled unto the dust, for no longer shall he reign in Kabul, since his crown shall henceforth grace thine own fair brow.”