Part 5

Then there rent the air a mighty cry of sorrow such as the world hath seldom heard. For the whole army wailed with grief, in their woe casting dust upon their heads, and tearing their garments in twain. And not only that, but the banners were rent, the drums broken, and the elephants and cymbals hung with the colors of mourning, because that the gentle Irij was now but a beautiful memory in the world, and that the house of Feridoun was left unto him desolate.

As for the stricken monarch, when he recovered his senses, he returned upon foot into the city, and all the nobles accompanied him, trailing their steps in the dust, and followed by the lamenting army. But Feridoun was dumb in his sorrow until they were come unto the garden of Irij, the spot loved best in the world by the noble young King. Here his grief o’ercame him, and, casting black earth upon his head, he tore his white hair, and shed bitter tears, his cries and lamentations being so piercing that they mounted even unto the seventh sphere. Then pressing the golden casket unto his breast, he spake unto God in his grief, and he said:

“O Omnipotent One! Thou who art all-just! look down, I beseech thee, upon this innocent whom his brothers have so foully slain, and grant unto me vengeance for his blood. His murderers, O God, are my sons, but I, their most unhappy father, beg of Thee to sear their wicked hearts that they may never again know joy or peace in the world. O Lord of the World, I long for the earth to cover me, but let me not go hence until a warrior, mighty to avenge, shall be sprung from the loins of Irij; then will I depart with joy, for I am weary of turmoil and strife.”

Thus cried Feridoun in the bitterness of his soul, and, refusing to quit the garden of Irij, he threw himself upon the grass, and, his white locks wet with dew, he lay night after night under the stars. Yea, the earth was his couch, and he watered the garden with his tears, and lo! he moved not from the spot until the grass had grown above his bosom, and his eyes were stricken with blindness from much weeping. And, moaning continually, in his agony he lamented:

“O my son! My gentle Irij! Never prince died a death so pitiful as thine!”

Now all the land wept and bemoaned the death of Irij, and the sorrow which had come unto the great King, so that for many years Iran was like unto a house of mourning. And the voice of lamentation ceased not in the land until the happy day upon which they placed in the arms of Feridoun a babe, fair and strong, the hero destined to avenge the gentle Irij’s death. But of this you must hear in another story.

MINUCHIR THE AVENGER

The old Persian chronicles relate that the Princess of Yemen wedded by Irij, son of Feridoun, bare unto him an only child, a daughter fair and sweet as a garden in spring. Now the fame of her beauty travelled far, and kings became her suitors. But her grandsire, giving her the desire of her heart, wedded her unto Pescheng, a hero of Jemshid’s race; and, in the course of time, there was born unto them a son who, in form and feature, resembled the lost Irij.

Now great was the rejoicing on the occasion of his birth, and, when he was yet a tender babe, they carried him unto the aged Feridoun, saying:

“O Shelter of the Universe, rejoice! for here is thy loved Irij come back unto thee a sweet and smiling babe.”

Then,

“The old man’s lips, with smiles apart, Bespoke the gladness of his heart. And in his arms he took the boy The harbinger of future joy; Delighted that indulgent Heaven To his fond hopes the pledge had given. It seemed as if, to bless his reign, Irij had come to life again.”

But alas! as Feridoun held the child in his arms, a mighty yearning took possession of him to behold the face of this babe like unto his gentle Irij. Vain, however, was his desire, for as you know, he was blind. Then in his longing he cried aloud unto the Almighty, and he said:

“O Lord of the World, in Thine infinite goodness, grant unto me the sight of my eyes, that I may behold this image of my son.”

And God was good unto Feridoun; for, even as he prayed, his eyes were opened, and his sight rested upon the babe who, pleased with his grandsire’s hoary locks, smiled up at him and cooed in glee; seeing which, Feridoun gave thanks unto Ormuzd, and called down blessings upon the child, naming him Minuchir. For he said, “Lo, a branch worthy of a noble stock hath borne fruit.”

As for the child, he was nourished with the greatest care during his infancy, in the house of Feridoun, who bestowed upon him a mother’s tenderness, suffering neither sorrow nor ill to come near unto him. So the years passed over his head, and the stars brought him naught but good. And, as he grew up, his grandfather had him carefully instructed in every art necessary to form the character, and acquire the accomplishments of a warrior. Brought up in the saddle, he could ride as no other; with his spear could he pierce all shields; with his arrow shoot farther and straighter than any in Feridoun’s court; while in wrestling, he overcame the strongest. And, in addition to his prowess, he possessed all the personal charm which had so endeared Irij to the whole world, so that the army adored him as no other.

Now when the young Minuchir was come unto years of maturity, Feridoun gave unto him a throne of gold and a mace; he also decorated his brow with the crown of sovereignty, and bestowed upon him the key unto all his treasures. And when this was accomplished, he commanded his nobles that they should do homage unto him as King. Now at this important ceremony, there were gathered about the throne, Karun, the brawny son of Kavah; Serv, King of Yemen; the great Neriman, and many other mighty princes and heroes of renown, more than tongue can name. But the young King outshone them all in strength and beauty and valor; and joy took up her abode once more in Iran.

And, presently, tidings of the splendor and glory of the new Shah pierced even unto the ears of Selim and Tur, who, hearing of the intrepidity and valor of Minuchir, and of the immense army that had flocked to his standard with the purpose of forwarding his plans for revenge, were filled with inexpressible terror; for they feared an immediate invasion of their kingdoms.

Thus alarmed, these slayers of their brother counselled long together, finally determining to try the efficacy of rich gifts and conciliatory language, hoping thus to regain the good-will of Feridoun, and also to lure Minuchir into their power, for they feared him greatly.

In pursuance of their plan, therefore, the two brothers loaded a train of elephants and dromedaries with rich treasure: gold, and silver, and jewels, and other articles of priceless value; and a messenger was despatched with them charged with abundant acknowledgment of guilt, and profuse expressions of repentance.

Now when the messenger arrived at the court of Feridoun, at once he delivered the magnificent presents, the sight of which caused the old monarch to observe unto Minuchir, who in all his splendid robes of state was seated upon the golden throne at his side:

“These gifts, O my son, are unto thee a prosperous and hopeful omen; they show that thy enemy is afraid of thee.”

Then, all being in readiness, the great Shah commanded that the messenger be given audience, who, when he had performed obeisance, thus stated his mission:

“O Glorious Shah, whose throne of light illumines the world, live forever! Behold, I bear unto thee a message from thy contrite sons who, bowed low in the dust, venture not so much as to raise their eyes unto thy footstool. Contrite of heart, they pray that thou wilt pardon their evil deed, for it was Iblis who led them astray. Have pity, therefore, O King, upon these unfortunate ones whose eyes are filled with tears and their hearts with repentance. For art thou not, O Beneficent One, the ocean of mercy? Therefore thy forgiveness will cleanse their hearts and restore them unto themselves. And, as a sign of thy grace, they beseech thee to send unto them Minuchir, thy son, for they yearn to look upon his face and do him homage. And this they beg, O Noble Shah, being but the dust of thy feet.”

Alas! As Feridoun listened unto the words of his sons, he knitted his brows in anger, for he knew the guile of their hearts, and trusted them not. Turning, therefore, unto the messenger, he said:

“O Foolish One, canst thou conceal the sun? Go, therefore, and say unto those wicked men, your masters, that their gifts and false-hearted words shall avail them naught, for it is vain white words to speak with tongues of blackness. And now, hear my answer: Go back and ask those fierce unnatural brothers, who talk of their affection for the Prince, where lieth the body of the gentle Irij—him they have slain so foully? And now they thirst to gain another victim! They long to gaze upon the great Minuchir! Yea, and they shall, surrounded by his soldiers, and clad in steel. And they shall feel, also, the edge of his life-destroying sword. Yes, they shall see him, never fear!”

Now, uttering this indignant speech, behold, Feridoun paused for a moment to show unto the messenger his famous warriors one by one, all men of giant stature and of admirable courage and valor in war. Then he resumed:

“Long, long hath vengeance slumbered, since it became not Feridoun to stretch forth his hand in battle against his sons. But, thanks unto Ormuzd, at last forth from that noble young cypress, uprooted so cruelly, is there sprung a branch which shall be as poison unto these enemies of his sire. And I say unto you:

“Hence with your presents, hence, away. Can gold or gems turn night to day? Must kingly heads be bought and sold, And shall I barter blood for gold? Shall gold a father’s heart entice, Blood to redeem beyond all price? Hence, hence with treachery; I have heard Their glozing falsehoods, every word; But human feelings guide my will, And keep my honor sacred still. True is the oracle we read:— ‘Those who have sown oppression’s seed Reap bitter fruit; their souls, perplexed, Joy not in this world or the next.’ The brothers of my murdered boy, Who could a father’s hope destroy, An equal punishment will reap, And lasting vengeance o’er them sweep. They rooted up my favorite tree, But yet a branch remains to me. Now the young lion comes apace, The glory of his glorious race; He comes apace to punish guilt, When brother’s blood was basely spilt; And blood alone for blood must pay; Hence with your gold, depart, away!”

Now when the messenger heard these reproaches mingled with poison, he departed with speed; and when he was come unto Selim and Tur he had many ominous things to report unto them. And first he told of the glorious Minuchir who, with frowning brow, was only anxious for battle; of the mighty heroes bearing names that filled the world with wonder, who stood about him thick as flies; of the army so great in numbers and valor that the men of Roum and China could not hope to stand against them; and he told finally how that every heart in Persia was filled with hatred of them because of gentle Irij slain.

An ominous outlook for the two brothers, truly, and one that filled their hearts with fear. But Tur, who was naturally cool-headed and brave, said unto Selim:

“Henceforth, O my brother, we must forego pleasure, for it behooveth us to be first upon the field of battle, and not to wait until the teeth of the young lion are sharpened. Also, let us take heart, for the young Minuchir hath yet to show his valor, and it followeth not that he will prove a hero bold and victorious because he is descended from the brave!”

So in this spirit the two brothers rapidly collected from both their kingdoms an army that was past numbering. Helmet was joined unto helmet, and spear unto spear, and treasure, baggage, and elephants and camels without number went with them, so that the earth thundered beneath their tread. Now you would have thought it a host that none could withstand, for it covered the land like unto a flock of locusts. So they marched unto Iran, and the two Kings rode at the head, their black hearts filled with hate and rage, for they feared that their sun was declining.

As for Feridoun, when he learned that the hostile army had crossed the Jihun, he called unto him Minuchir and said:

“Behold! The forest game surrendereth itself voluntarily at the foot of the sportsman. This is well! And now wait quietly, for a little skill and patience will draw the lion’s head into thy toils.”

So Minuchir waited; but when the enemy had approached within hailing distance, they found the army of the Great Shah drawn up in magnificent battle-array. Now the glorious Minuchir rose above the rest like unto the moon, or the sun when it shineth above the mountains; while at his right rode Karun, the avenger, and his warriors, carrying ponderous clubs, each like a fierce lion girt with power. At his left, rode Saum the son of Neriman, and his men, whose bright scimetars ashed brilliantly in the eastern sunshine, while front and rear, for miles and miles, there was naught but bristling steel. And over all this mighty host waved the fair flag of Kavah, resplendent with jewels—that banner which never yet had recoiled or gone down before the foe!

Now, seeing this, the two brothers also drew up their legions in imposing array, and when dawn, the fair harbinger of day, had flushed the eastern sky with red, out from the mighty host sprang Tur the Courageous, and, with haughty gesture, thus addressed himself unto the chieftain, Saum:

“O Son of Neriman, I pray thee ask this new King, this young Minuchir, since Heaven to Irij gave but a daughter, who on him bestowed the battle-axe, the shining mail, the sword?”

Incensed at this insulting speech, Saum replied hotly:

“O Shedder of a Brother’s Blood, thy message shall be given, and I will bring the answer too. Ye know right well what ye have done. Have ye not murdered him who, trusting, sought protection from ye? And verily for this atrocious deed must all mankind your memory curse even until the day of doom. Yea, if savage monsters were to flee your presence, it would not be surprising! And this is certain, those who die in this most righteous war will go to Heaven with all their sins forgiven.”

Now having thus given vent unto his feelings, Saum went at once unto Minuchir and delivered the message. Smiling, then, the young King spake, and he said:

“Verily, a boaster must he be, foolish and vain, for, when engaged in battle, vigor of arm and the enduring soul are best proved by deeds, not words. Parley not with him. I ask but for vengeance for gentle Irij slain. Forward! to battle!”

And at the signal, verily, never saw you such an onslaught! For, like a hungry tiger breaking forth from the jungle to seize upon its prey, so did the army of the brave Minuchir fall upon the foe. And fierce indeed was the conflict, lasting until set of sun, multitudes on both sides being slain, until all the spacious plain became a sea of blood. Yea, red, red, became the ground, so red it seemed as if the earth were covered o’er with crimson tulips, their bright heads stilled by the luxuriance of their bloom. But the army of Minuchir was victorious, the flag of Kavah, at evening, still waving defiance to its foes.

But alas for Selim and Tur! for behold, it is related that when the sun had sunk to rest upon this day of bloodshed, craftily they consulted together how they might seize upon Minuchir by fraud, for they saw that his arm was strong, since the day had witnessed many dauntless deeds of bravery performed by him, making them despair of ever conquering such a hero in battle.

So it came to pass that at dead of night Tur set forth at the head of a small band of picked men to surprise Minuchir in his tent. But the King’s spies were not sleeping, and so straightway they carried the news of the evil plan unto his ears, and thus it happened that when courageous Tur burst upon the great Minuchir in his tent, at once he was surrounded, and when he would have fled, behold, the King, dexterously using his javelin, hurled him from his saddle to the ground. Then with his cruel dagger he severed the head of Tur, regarding not his piteous cries for mercy. Now the body he left unto the wild beasts, but the head he sent as a trophy unto Feridoun, pledging neither to rest nor tarry until the death of trusting Irij be fully avenged.

Now as for Selim, when he heard of the fate of his brother, he at once cast about for a new ally; and, at his solicitations, there came unto him the giant Kaku who was of the seed of Zohak. Then, deeming it prudent, they fell back with the army, taking refuge in an old fort. But Minuchir in hot pursuit soon came up with them, and besieged the castle.

One morning, however, the great Deev, Kaku, hideously black and ugly, sallied boldly forth from the fort, and running swiftly toward the centre of the besieging army, threw a javelin at Minuchir which, fortunately, fell harmless before it reached him. But retribution was swift and sure, for the King, rushing quickly upon the Deev, seized him by the girdle, and, raising him high in the air, flung him from his saddle to the ground with such fury that he never moved again. Such was the strength and prowess of the great Minuchir.

But the young avenger was wise as well as strong and brave, and so, seeing that the siege threatened to last for some time, he now sent a message unto Selim, saying:

“O Slayer of thy Brother! behold, I, Minuchir, challenge thee to quit the fort, and boldly meet me here, that it may be determined unto whom God giveth the victory.”

Now as Selim could not, without disgrace, refuse this invitation to single combat, he descended from the fort to meet Minuchir, and a desperate combat was the result. But though the fight was long, and Selim no unworthy foe in his desperation, yet, in the end, the superiority of Minuchir caused him to prevail, and Selim was slain, his head being severed from his body by the redoubtable sword of the King.

As for the army of Selim, when the soldiers beheld the head of their leader borne upon the lance of Minuchir, they fled swiftly unto the mountains and vanished like cattle whom the snow hath driven from their pasture. And, being thus at a safe distance, they took counsel together and chose from among them a man, prudent and gentle of speech, to go unto Minuchir and speak for them. Returning, therefore, the messenger said:

“O Conqueror of the World, we pray thee that, looking down upon us from thy glorious height, thou wilt have mercy upon us, for neither hate nor vengeance drove us forth against thee, but only this, that we obeyed the will of our masters. We ourselves long only after our homes, for we are peaceful men, tillers of the earth and keepers of cattle, and we pray thee, therefore, that we be permitted to return in safety whence we have come. We acknowledge thee our Shah, and will ever be faithful and loyal unto thee, for we perceive that not only art thou brave, but noble as well.”

Now when Minuchir heard these words, he said kindly unto the messenger:

“Let every man lay down his arms and go his way, and may joy wait upon your feet. For Minuchir, like the great Feridoun, desireth naught but the good and happiness of his people, and that peace may dwell once more in the land.”

So the vanquished army passed before Minuchir, each man bearing his armor and weapons of battle, and, calling down blessings upon his head, they laid them at his feet. And behold! of weapons there was reared such a mighty tower that Babel would have paled in its sight, and the polished steel, as it rose tier upon tier up into the blue, glittered dazzlingly in the sunshine, a glorious promise of peace.

And presently Minuchir, having disbanded the vanquished army, set out at the head of his warriors for the city of Feridoun, his vengeance being fully accomplished. And, being apprised of his approach, his grandsire came forth to meet him, and there accompanied him a glorious train. Now there were elephants swathed in gold and jewels, warriors arrayed in rich attire, and a large multitude clad picturesquely in garments of bright hue, while over them waved flags and banners, and about them the trumpets brayed, and the cymbals clashed, and sounds of rejoicing were heard everywhere.

Now beholding his grandsire yet some distance off, Minuchir got down from his horse, and, running to meet him, kissed the ground before him, craving his blessing. So Feridoun blessed Minuchir, and raised him from the dust. Then he bade him again mount his horse, and, amid shouts of rejoicing, they entered the city in triumph. But when they were come unto the royal palace, Feridoun, having seated Minuchir upon the throne of light, and placed with his own hands the crown upon his head, called unto him Saum, the son of Neriman, saying unto him:

“O mighty Warrior, loyal and brave, to thee specially do I commend this youth to nourish him for full sovereignty, and to support him royally with thy might and mind, both thee and thy house forever.”

So saying, he placed the hand of Minuchir in that of Saum, and said:

“Lo! my hour of departure is at hand. Soon shall I cumber the earth no more. God, in his goodness, hath given unto me the desire of my heart, and now I go unto him to render account. May he be merciful unto his servant, granting unto him peace in the life to come.”

Then having thus spoken, Feridoun distributed gifts unto his nobles and servants, then, withdrawing into solitude, he bewailed without ceasing the evil fate of his sons, and the sorrow they had caused in the world. But daily he grew weaker, and at last the light of his life went out. Howbeit, the glory of his name liveth even unto this day, for even the children in Persia know and love this glorious Shah of Old.

But as for Minuchir, he mourned for his noble grandsire with weeping and bitter lamentation, and raised above him a stately tomb. Then when the seven days of mourning were ended, lo, he put upon his head the crown of the Kaianides, and girt his loins with the red sash of might and the nation called him Shah, and he was beloved in the land.

“The army and the people gave him praise, Prayed for his happiness and length of days. ‘Our hearts,’ they said, ‘are ever bound to thee, Our hearts, inspired by love and loyalty.’”

ZAL OF THE WHITE HAIR

Among all the great heroes who had such vast influence in shaping the destinies of Iran, there is no house so celebrated as that of Saum Swar, the mighty Pehliva, unto whom the aged Feridoun especially committed Minuchir. Seistan, which is to the south of Iran, was the hereditary province of this famous warrior, and here was bred a race of heroes that not only saved Persia again and again from out the hands of her foes, but whose marvellous deeds of valor have filled the world with wonder.