Part 26

So, at once Rustem set forth to avenge the wrongs of his brother, but lo! when they were yet far from Kabul, they were met by the King, who, bowing himself low in the dust, said unto Rustem:

“O Lord of the World! Thou beholdest before thee, with uncovered head and bare feet, the proud King of Kabul. Pardon, therefore—thou who art gracious as the River Nile—the foolish words of thy slave, spoken when his head was troubled with wine. For lo! his mouth is filled with dust and his soul with sorrow and repentance.”

Now hearing these words of humility, Rustem’s anger was appeased. Granting unto the King forgiveness, therefore, he graciously consented to be his guest. So a great banquet was made ready to celebrate the reconciliation, and as they feasted the King lauded his wondrous hunting-grounds, wherein the deer and the wild ass furnished such excellent sport, and he invited Rustem to hunt therein for a day before returning unto Seistan.

So Rustem, who loved the chase almost as well as the field of battle, consented to remain the King’s guest for yet another day, for he suspected not that poison lurked in the honey of the monarch’s words. But alas! in a certain part of these beautiful hunting-grounds, the schemers had caused to be dug treacherous pits, lined thickly with swords and lances and hunting-spears, yet no man would have suspected their existence, so cleverly were they covered over.

On the following day, therefore, the King directed the hunt unto the place in the forest where the pits were hidden. And behold! Shughad ran beside the horse of Rustem to show unto him the path. But when they were come unto the place of peril, Rakush, smelling the newly-turned earth, reared high in the air, refusing to advance. Then Rustem, thinking he was afraid, commanded him to go forward; but Rakush, backing, refused to give ear unto his master’s voice. Now this made Rustem angry so that lightly he struck him with his whip, though never before in all their long wanderings together had he done so. Then, alas! surprised and maddened by the stroke, Rakush sprang forward, but only to fall into one of the treacherous pits.

Now sinking into the midst of this cruel bed of pointed weapons, many a ghastly stab and many a cut in limb and body received Rustem and his gallant steed. Yet from this awful grave, at one prodigious spring, Rakush escaped with his master still upon his back. But alas! what availed that mighty effort? For, down again into another pit, yet deeper, both fell together. And though again they rose, and yet again, it was only to be engulfed once more, and yet again. Yea, seven times down prostrate, seven times bruised and maimed, did Rakush struggle on, until mounting up the edge of the seventh pit, all covered with deep wounds, both horse and rider lay exhausted, Rustem swooning in his agony.

But when once more the mighty Hero opened his horror-stricken eyes upon the world, lo, he beheld Shughad his brother, smiling in triumph at his side. Then knew he unto whom he owed this infamous treachery, and he said:

“Thou Wicked One! Is it possible that thou, the son of Zal, hast contrived and wrought this evil deed against thy brother? Verily thy heart is as black as thy shadow, which shall not long darken the earth.”

Then the treacherous Shughad, trying to justify his cruel deed, said sternly unto the dying Hero:

“Verily, God hath decreed this awful vengeance to recompense thee for all the blood that thou hast shed in thy long life as a warrior. Not I, but He, hath determined thy fate.”

Now at this moment the King of Kabul drew near, feigning great anger and sorrow when he beheld the dying one. And he wailed:

“Alas the day! That the Mighty Rustem should perish so ignobly, and as my guest! Quick, bring the matchless balm for Rustem’s cure, for the great Champion of Iran must not be allowed to die a death so wretched!”

But Rustem, smiling scornfully, said unto the treacherous King:

“O Man of Wile! Right well thou knowest that Death, that cometh unto all men in their turn, is the only physician that now can heal the great Rustem of his wounds. But why should the mighty son of Zal complain of Fate? For verily, many a mighty King hath died and left me still triumphant, still in power unconquerable. And behold! yet there liveth valiant Feramurz, who will be revenged upon thee for his father’s death.”

And now the Mighty Rustem sighed, saying unto Shughad in a weak and mournful voice:

“Verily, my spirit will soon be free! But alas! it grieveth me sore that my faithful body may this night be food unto the wolves and lions. String, therefore, my bow, and place it in my hands that I may appear unto the wild beasts that would devour me, even as a live warrior, ready to defend his life. For our father’s sake, O Shughad, refuse not thy brother this last request.”

So, suspecting naught, Shughad drew the great bow from its case, and placed it in Rustem’s hands, smiling with satisfaction to think that his brother’s end was so nigh. But verily he smiled not but a moment, for noting the strength with which Rustem gripped his bow, and the peculiar look of his eye, shuddering with terror, quickly Shughad dodged behind a plane-tree close at hand. But useless was the shelter, for though the dimness of death was come over the eyes of the Hero, he yet spied Shughad where he hid, and whiz! went an arrow, straight through the tree and the wicked Shughad, transfixing them together. And Rustem, when he saw the fate of his brother, was content, knowing that he could do no more harm unto his house.

But alas! of all that mighty hunting-party not a knightly follower escaped. For Zuara and all the others perished in the treacherous pits of the traitor King, save only one, who quickly fled with the dire news unto Seistan.

Then Zal, in agony, tore his white hair and rent his garments, lamenting bitterly for Rustem, crying again and again:

“Why was I not present, fighting at his side? Why could I not die for him? Wherefore, alas, am I left alone to mourn his memory?”

But behold! though bowed to the earth with grief, quickly the white-haired old warrior sent Feramurz forth with a great army to avenge the death of his father. And verily the work of the Hero was complete. For not only did he make of Kabul a desert, but he laid low the head of the treacherous King and all his race. Then the work of vengeance finished, lo, he sought out the body of Rustem, and of Rakush his gallant steed, and bare them back in sorrow unto Seistan, where they were placed in a noble tomb.

And alas! never was there such wailing in the land of Iran as for Rustem the Mighty. Nay, not even for the glorious Shahs of Old! And well might it be so, for never again did Persia rejoice in such an unbroken line of heroes, and never did she achieve such telling victories, for with Rustem her glory departed; yea, for many long years!

End of Project Gutenberg's The Story of Rustem, by Elizabeth D. Renninger