Part 9

But now Afrasiab came up, and so again was the battle renewed. Now from morning until evening the conflict raged so fiercely that the ground could not be seen for the dead, and in the end the Persians suffered a great defeat. But, most unfortunate of all, King Nuder again fell into the hands of the Tartar chief, and long they fought, but finally Afrasiab succeeded in grasping his royal opponent by the girdle and, furious, dragged him from his foaming horse, and carried him off a prisoner.

But worse was to come, for when Afrasiab learned of Karun’s valorous deed, and that as a consequence, not only Barman, but many of the bravest of his warriors were slain, in a fit of rage, he slew his royal prisoner, and also many of the thousand brave warriors who fell into his hands with Nuder; and Persia was without a King.

And presently it came to pass that Afrasiab himself sat down upon the throne of light, proclaiming himself lord of Iran. And not only this, but he required all the people to do homage unto him, and to pour gifts before his face. But the people would not listen unto his voice, and in their distress they sent messengers unto Seistan, asking counsel of the great Pehliva. Then Zal, hearing of the sad plight of Iran, cast aside his sorrow for Saum, his father, and replied thus unto the messengers:

“O Men of Iran, verily all my days have I feared no enemy save only old age, and now it is come upon me; for my back is bowed, and I can no longer wield the sword as in former years, but, thanks unto Ormuzd, the old stump hath put forth a noble shoot, and, therefore, my son Rustem will do all that can be done to succor Iran from her foes, for he is strong and courageous, and is now ready and longing for battle. Wherefore, be of good cheer!”

Then Zal, dismissing the messengers, called before him his son and said unto him:

“O Hero of the House of Saum, verily thou art strong as an elephant, and thy courage is as that of the lion who defendeth her young. Nevertheless, O my son, thy lips still smell of milk, and thy heart should be going out after pleasure instead of battle, for thou art yet but a youth. But alas! the times are perilous, and Iran looketh unto thee for succor; so the time is come when I must send thee forth to cope with heroes, both thou and Rakush thy steed! And, armed with thy grandsire’s famous club for thy mace, I mistake me if thou spreadest not consternation among the Tartar host. What sayeth the proud son of Zal?”

Now at this Rustem smiled. Then drawing near unto his father he said:

“O my noble father, with my grandsire’s mighty club I slew the King’s white elephant. Hast thou forgotten that? And also how I took the enchanted fortress? Verily, I know that I am young, but it would be a disgrace if I were to be afraid of Afrasiab and his warriors, and verily, I am not afraid. For, seated upon Rakush, and armed with my grandsire’s mace and helmet, my heart telleth me that I shall not disgrace the house of Saum the Hero. Give me thy blessing, therefore, and send me forth. Then shall Persia be delivered from her foes.”

Now Zal’s heart laughed within him for very gladness when he heard these words of manhood from his son, and immediately preparations were made to take the field, a large army being raised and equipped by Rustem.

But, though Afrasiab heard of the preparations being made by Zal and Rustem to come out against him, the news disturbed him not at all, for he said:

“Verily, why should we fear? The son is but a boy, and the father is old; therefore, it will be simply play to vanquish these heroes, so let us feast and be merry!”

So they feasted, hearing not as they made merry over their wine the steady tramp, tramp of the approaching army, which daily drew nearer, and of whose might they dreamed not.

Now it was the time of roses, when Zal led forth his host against the offspring of Tur, and the meadows smiled with verdure, filling all the air with fragrance. At the head of the mighty multitude marched Rustem, the flag of Kavah floating o’er him gloriously. But White-haired Zal was not at his side, for he marched in the midst of the men, while Mihrab and Gustahem led the two wings. Also there followed after Rustem a number like the sands of the sea, and the sounds of cymbals and drums made a noise like unto the great day of judgment. So marched they until they came near unto the Tartar camp. Then, assembling his veteran chiefs, Zal said unto them:

“O my Brave Warriors, valiant in fight! Behold, we have here a great army; we have also daring chiefs and wise counsellors; but we suffer a great disadvantage because that we have no King. But rejoice and be not dismayed, for a Mubid hath revealed unto me that at Mount Alborz there yet liveth one of the royal race of Feridoun, unto whom belongeth the throne; and that he is a youth wise and brave, and a lover of justice and truth.”

Having thus spoken unto the chiefs, behold, Zal next addressed himself unto Rustem, and he said:

“My son, I pray thee depart at once for Mount Alborz, neither tarry by the way. And when thou art come unto the mountain, do homage unto Prince Kaikobad, and say unto him that lo! the army is asking for its King. We shall expect thy return with the Prince within fourteen days.”

So, with great joy, Rustem leaped upon the back of Rakush, and rode off at full speed. Now he had gone but a short distance when a number of Tartars who had posted themselves upon the road, seeing the young hero galloping toward them, attacked him. But Rustem, club in hand, fell upon them with fury, striking many to the ground, and driving the rest before him, so that they returned unto Afrasiab full of terror.

Meanwhile, Rustem, tarrying not, rode on until he was come unto Mount Alborz, unto a spot where he beheld a splendid palace standing in a beautiful garden whence came the sounds of running waters. Trees of tall stature uprose therein, and under their spreading shade, beside a gurgling fountain, there was placed a throne upon which sat a youth of singular beauty. And circled round about him were nobles, girt with red sashes of might, and they paid homage unto the youth.

Now beguiled by the charm of the place, which was really a paradise as to perfume and beauty, Rustem drew rein for a moment, and when those within the garden beheld it, they came out unto him, saying courteously:

“O noble youth, thou appearest to have ridden fast and far! Descend from off thy horse, therefore, and drink a cup of wine with us, for we would greet thee as our guest.”

But Rustem, thanking them, refused the courtesy, saying unto them in explanation:

“Unfortunately, O gracious Pehliva, my errand is one that demandeth haste. For lo! the borders of Iran are encircled by the enemy, and in every house there is mourning because that the throne is empty of a King. Wherefore, I may not stay to taste of wine.”

Hearing this, the nobles no longer sought to detain Rustem, but said graciously unto him:

“Verily, if thou art on thy way unto Mount Alborz, brave youth, tell unto us thy mission, for we are of those who guard its sides.”

Then Rustem, satisfied as to their integrity, replied unto his questioners:

“Behold! I seek upon Mount Alborz a King of the pure royal race, a youth who reareth high his head. His name is Kaikobad, and if ye know aught of him, I pray that ye give me tidings as to where I may find him.”

Now at this the youth upon the throne arose, and said unto Rustem:

“Sayest thou, O Pehliva, that thou seekest Prince Kaikobad? Verily, he is well known unto me, and if thou wilt graciously enter this garden, and rejoice my soul with thy presence, surely I will give thee tidings concerning him.”

So Rustem, at this promise, quickly dismounted from off the back of Rakush, and hastened to where the nobles were congregated by the fountain. Then the youth who had called unto him took his hand and led him unto the steps of the throne, and, pouring out wine, he drank to his guest, giving also unto Rustem. Then this ceremony being ended, he said:

“O Valiant One! Why seekest thou Kaikobad? At whose desire art thou thus sent forth?”

Then Rustem replied:

“O Prince, I bring unto Kaikobad good tidings, for the nobles of Iran have chosen him to be their King. And lo! my aged father, Zal, hath sent me with all speed to pray the young King to hasten unto his own, that he may lead the host against the enemies of Iran.”

Now the youth listened attentively unto Rustem; then, smiling, he said:

“O Son of the White-haired Zal! Rejoice, for thy quest is ended, since thou beholdest in me Kaikobad of the race of Feridoun.”

Then Rustem, bowing his head, kissed the ground before the Prince, saluting him as Shah. And Kaikobad, calling for a cup of wine, touched it with his lips in Rustem’s honor. Then Rustem also drank, crying loyally:

“May the Shah live forever! May he bring destruction unto the enemies of Iran, and reign gloriously for a thousand years!”

And now music rent the air, and shouts of joy from the nobles, because that the King was come into his own. But when silence was once more restored, the young Shah opened his mouth and said:

“O Nobles of Iran, hearken unto my dream, which is now come true, and you will know why I called upon you this day to stand in majesty about my throne. Behold, last night in my sleep, suddenly from out the blue I beheld two falcons, white of wing, flying toward me by way of Iran; and in their beaks they bore a sunny crown which they placed upon my head. And lo! here is Rustem, come out unto me this day like a white bird; and his father, the nursling of a bird, hath sent him, while the sunny diadem is the crown of Iran.”

Now all marvelled at the dream, and Rustem said:

“Surely, O King, thou art chosen of Ormuzd, and blessings will be showered upon Iran while thou art seated upon the throne of light! But since there is now need for haste, I pray thee let us tarry no longer, for the enemy is at the door.”

So Kaikobad swung himself upon his steed of war, and in yet the same hour they set out with their followers, toward Iran. And they rode day and night without stopping until, having left the glorious hills far behind them, they were come unto the green plains, already clad in all their spring beauty. Whereupon, being come unto the outposts of the enemy, Kaloun, the great Tartar champion, came out to attack them, and when the King saw him and his ugly-looking followers, he was for giving battle. But Rustem said:

“O Lord of Iran, truly it becometh not thy greatness to honor such a foe. And, moreover, my horse and my club, with God on my side, will be enough, I think, to settle this handful of the enemy.”

Now so speaking, and waiting not for reply, Rustem gave Rakush the rein, and made a dash for the Tartars; and fearful was the onslaught! For coming up with the enemy, the hero, catching one trooper from his horse, struck another with the man as if he were a club, dashing out his brains. Then one by one he tore the riders from their saddles, dashing them to the ground with such force as to break their skulls, and necks, and backs. And finally it came the turn of the great champion also to feel the wrath of Rustem. Reaching out his hand, therefore, quickly he caught hold of Kaloun’s spear, tore it from him, and with it struck him from his saddle. Then as he lay upon the ground, Rakush trampled upon him until he was naught but a mass of clay. Now when the remaining Tartars saw their chief treated in this fashion, they thought that a demon had broken his chain, and was riding about with a club and a lasso fastened unto his saddle; so being filled with terror, they turned their backs and fled.

Then, having given the enemy somewhat to report unto Afrasiab, Rustem rode back unto the King, and they continued their journey. And that night, in the darkness, Rustem led the “Hope of Iran” safely through the enemy’s line within the tents of Zal. And after this, seven days they feasted and counselled together, but on the eighth day the crown of Iran was placed upon the head of Kaikobad, who mustered the army and led it forth against the Tartar host.

And then, what a conflict! Fierce and terrible it raged for days, and many were the deeds of valor performed by both Iranian and Turk. But the men of Turan prevailed not, though Afrasiab made one terrible onslaught in which so great was the clamor and confusion that it seemed as if heaven and earth had closed in deadly conflict, the result of which would be victory for the enemy. Now the spectacle was magnificent, awe-inspiring, and terrible. For, what with the clattering of hoofs, the shrill roar of the trumpets, the rattle of the brazen drums, and the vivid glitter of spear and shield, there was produced a scene of indescribable tumult and splendor, while the neighing of the steeds of battle, the cries of dying men, and the blood which flowed like water, testified to the deadly work being done by the Tartar King, who beheld the crown of Iran just within his grasp.

But the bravery of Afrasiab upon that dreadful day was as nothing beside that of Rustem. Seemingly everywhere on the field at the same time, so terrible was the destruction which he caused that, verily, you would have said he was war incarnate. Now his power was that of a hungry lion which causeth all men to flee; neither could his strength be broken, for his shadow extended for miles, and, unaided, he performed deeds of prowess of which no hero e’er dreamed, so that from this time forth men named him Tehemten, which meaneth “the strong-limbed.” But behold! when the conflict had lasted for some time, as the battle ebbed for a moment, Rustem said unto Zal:

“O my father, where think you hideth Afrasiab? What dress doth he wear, and what is his standard? for verily I see him not! Why doth he not stand forth that I may meet him in single combat?”

Then Zal, laying a detaining hand upon his son, said gravely:

“Listen, O my son, and stick not thy hand in the lion’s jaws! For truly this young Tartar, Afrasiab, rageth in the conflict with the fury of the lion and the crocodile; yea, he fighteth in the saddle like a sharp-fanged dragon; and in his wrath, as he wieldeth his bright scimitar around him, he staineth the earth with blood. Beware of him, therefore, for black is his banner, black his coat of mail and the plume upon his helmet, and behold, woe followeth ever in his train.”

Now, hearing this, Rustem quickly loosened his father’s detaining hand, saying unto him earnestly:

“Yea, and black is his heart also, O my father, for he murdered his gentle brother. Dragon or Demon, therefore, I fear him not, for Heaven is not his friend. Let him come forth, therefore, and soon we shall see unto whom Ormuzd giveth the victory.”

Then away galloped Rustem, and as he rode he shouted his terrible battle-cry which caused the enemy to flee before him like fire before the wind. Now noting the havoc caused by the youth, Afrasiab, astonished, said unto his chiefs:

“O Men of Turan, what dragon is this who scoureth the plain, causing my warriors to flee before him? Verily, his claws need trimming!”

Whereupon, the nobles, surrounding Afrasiab, said eagerly:

“What! Hast thou not then heard? Yonder roaring lion is Rustem, the mighty son of Zal, and verily, his power is that of a thousand Deevs! Seest thou not the club that he wieldeth with such deadly force? Lo, it is that of Deev-fighting Saum, his grandsire, and the youth seeketh renown, even as that illustrious Pehliva. And much we fear, O Afrasiab, that if his power be not speedily broken he will carry all before him.”

Now, having heard this report, Afrasiab galloped straight unto the front of his army where, being seen by Rustem, he was at once challenged to single combat. With a fierce cry of joy, then, the warriors closed, and long and fearful was the struggle. At last, however, Rustem deftly caught Afrasiab by the girdle, and dragged him from his saddle, intending to carry him thus captive unto Kaikobad as a trophy of his first day’s fighting. But, what with the weight of the King, and Rustem’s mighty arm, the leather of the girdle broke, and Afrasiab fell headlong to the ground, whereupon he was immediately surrounded and rescued by his warriors, but not before Rustem had snatched off his crown, which together with the broken girdle he bore off in triumph.

Meanwhile, Afrasiab, having been mounted by his chiefs upon a swift horse, succeeded in making his escape, owing to the great confusion, and his army was left to shift for itself. As a consequence, in the general engagement which now took place, it fared ill indeed with the enemy, for the Persians, fired by the example of Rustem, performed prodigies of valor, many a brave hero on this field fighting his last fight for Iran.

But, among them all, no one could compare with Rustem. On that tremendous day, with sword and dagger, battle-axe and noose, he cut, and tore, and broke, and bound the brave, slaying and making captive with his own hand as many as a whole army. It is even said that at one fell swoop more than a thousand fell before his life-destroying sword, and that, witnessing this feat of supernatural power, the Tartar hordes fled in dismay, their black banners trailing in the dust, and with no sound of trumpet or drum to indicate the course of their flight.

So, in this sad plight, the conquered Tartar legions pursued their noiseless retreat unto their own land. But the Persians, when they beheld the enemy vanish as the mist, fell slowly back unto the capital, where the victory was celebrated with great pomp and splendor, Kaikobad rewarding the valor of Rustem by appointing him captain-general of the armies under the title of the “Champion of the World,” and also giving unto him a golden crown, carrying with it the privilege of giving audience while seated upon a golden throne.

But alas for Afrasiab! With a heavy heart he returned unto his father, in bitter humiliation communicating unto him the misfortunes which had overtaken him. And he said:

“O my father, verily we acted not wisely in provoking this war. For lo! there hath arisen in Iran, from the race of Saum the Pehliva, a youth who cannot be matched anywhere, either in strength or valor or prowess—for hath he not utterly subdued thy legions? Yet now he is but a mere weanling! I ask you, therefore, to consider what is likely to come to pass when he reacheth his full vigor?

“Now well thou knowest, O my father, that thy son is no weakling, but a hero desiring to possess the world, and of established valor; yea, the stay of thy army, and thy refuge in danger, yet before this young dragon of war his power is as nothing, as thou shalt hear.

“For behold! when in the midst of battle he beheld my standard, like a crocodile he sprang to the fight. Verily, thou wouldst have said that his breath scorched up the plain, so fiery was he! Then long we fought, but suddenly seizing me by the girdle, he caught me from my saddle with such mighty force that hadst thou seen him thou wouldst have said he held no more than a fly in his grasp. Then broke my golden girdle, and down I fell ingloriously upon the dusty ground; and this was well, for quickly then was I rescued by my body-guard and spirited away. But knowing well my prowess, O my father, and how my nerves are strung, thou canst conceive the wondrous strength, the marvellous power which sunk me thus to nothing.

“And now I say unto thee, haste to make peace with Iran, else Turan is lost, for verily the hero liveth not who can stand against this mighty man of valor.”

Poshang listened unto this bitter tale with sorrow and dismay, astonished, too, to hear the fierce and valiant Afrasiab speak so hopelessly of the undertaking. Well he knew, therefore, that he must sue for peace, and tears of exceeding bitterness fell from his eyes, as, calling unto him a scribe, he dictated unto Kaikobad the Shah a letter, in which he said unto the great King:

“O Glorious Shelter of the Universe, in the name of Ormuzd, the great ruler of sun and moon and earth, greeting from the meanest of thy subjects, who sayeth unto thee: Wherefore should we seek the land of our neighbor, since in the end each will receive in heritage a spot no larger than his body? Let the Jihun, therefore, be the future boundary between Turan and Iran, and lo! not one of my people shall pass over its waters; nay, not even in their dreams! Then shall the two nations live at peace, and all will be well in the lands.”

Now Kaikobad smiled at this wily letter; nevertheless, he replied unto Poshang, saying:

“O Tartar King, well thou knowest that Persia sought not this war, but Afrasiab, who thought to subdue a masterless land, to satisfy his own ambitions, thus following in the footsteps of Tur, his grandsire. For, even as he robbed Iran of gentle Irij, so Afrasiab hath taken from it Nuder the Shah; and from thee, O King, thy noble young son whom he so cruelly stabbed! Nevertheless, since Kaikobad loveth peace rather than war, he agreeth to thy proposals of peace; but see to it well that Afrasiab crosseth not the Jihun.”

So peace was made between Iran and Turan, and so Rustem won his first laurels as a warrior.

RUSTEM’S SEVEN LABORS, OR ADVENTURES

Listen unto the tale of the seven adventures of Rustem, encountered while rescuing a foolish Shah from the consequences of his folly.

Now the foolish one was not the glorious Kaikobad who reigned beneficently over Iran for twice fifty years, but his son Kaikous, who, when his father exchanged the palace for the tomb, seated himself upon the throne of light, at first exercising many of the princely virtues of his illustrious predecessors. But alas! as his riches increased and his armies grew stronger, he became filled with self-admiration and pride, indulging more and more in the fascinations of the wine cup, until in the midst of his luxurious feasting with his warriors and chiefs, he, like the great Shah Jemshid, beheld no one but himself in the world.

Then it came to pass that one day as the vain Shah sat in his trellised bower in the garden of roses, drinking wine, boasting, and making merry with his friends, a Deev, disguised as a minstrel and playing sweetly upon his harp, presented himself before the King’s chamberlain, desiring audience. And he said:

“Thou beholdest before thee, O Servant of the King, a singer of sweet songs, come unto thee from Mazinderan, desiring to pay homage unto the great King of Kings. Admit me, therefore, I pray thee, into the arbor of flowers, for in my throat are gay singing-birds which will make the bower a paradise of joy.”

So the chamberlain, beguiled by the charm of the youth, hastened at once unto the King to beg audience for him. And he said:

“O Shelter of the Universe, at the gate is a minstrel with his harp. And lo! in his throat he hides a flock of singing-birds fresh from the gardens of paradise. He hath come hither desiring to prostrate himself before the most illustrious of all the Shahs of Iran, and he awaiteth thy commands, being naught but the dust at thy feet.”

So the King, pleased with this flattery, and with no suspicion of guile, commanded that the musician be brought before him. Then the youth, being admitted, and having performed obeisance, warbled forth unto the monarch words of deep cunning, for his song was of the enchanted land of the Genii: