Part 10

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:

“Now thus he warbled to the King— Mazinderan is the bower of spring, My native home; the balmy air Diffuses health and fragrance there; So tempered is the genial glow, Nor heat nor cold we ever know; Tulips and hyacinths abound On every lawn; and all around Blooms like a garden in its prime. Fostered by that delicious clime. The bulbul sits on every spray, And pours his soft melodious lay; Each rural spot its sweets discloses, Each streamlet is the dew of roses; The damsels, idols of the heart, Sustain a most bewitching part. And mark me, that untravelled man Who never saw Mazinderan, And all the charms its bowers possess, Has never tasted happiness!”

Now as the King’s great desire was to drain the cup of happiness to the dregs, no sooner had he heard the minstrel’s lay of this enchanting land than straightway he became inflamed with the desire to possess it for his own. Turning, therefore, unto his warriors, he at once declared that the glory of his reign should be the conquest of this wonderful country. For, he said:

“Verily it behooveth a great Shah to be a hero among men, and the world should be his footstool. Now in wealth, and power, and splendor, I, Kaikous, surpass not only the glorious Jemshid, but all my predecessors, and I say unto you that my prowess shall also be greater, for verily I mean to be master of Mazinderan which hath ever resisted the might of the greatest of the Shahs of Iran. Too long, O my nobles, have we abandoned ourselves to feasting, but now I bid you prepare for battle, for presently I will lead you into the enchanted land of the Genii, thus causing the glory of Kaikous to mount even unto the stars.”

Alas! the nobles, when they heard these words of vanity and folly, grew pale with dread, for they had no desire to invade the country of the Deevs. But knowing the temper of the Shah, no one was brave enough to utter protest, though the hearts of all were full of misgivings and their mouths of sighs. But among themselves, when they could speak openly, they said one unto another:

“What folly is this! And what calamity will it bring upon us, unless, by good fortune, the King forgetteth in his cups this wild undertaking! Why, even the great Jemshid, whom the Genii and the Peri and the very birds of the air obeyed, never dreamed of trying to conquer the Deevs of Mazinderan, before whom the sword hath no power and wisdom is of no avail! And the great Feridoun, though he was the wisest of Kings, and skilled in all the arts of magic, never cherished such an enterprise! Truly, Kaikous is mad!”

So they talked in their anger and perplexity; and finally they sent forth a wind-footed dromedary and a messenger unto Zal, the Wise One of Iran, saying unto him:

“O Gracious Pehliva, once again is Iran in danger and hath sore need of thee. Therefore, though thy head be covered with dust, tarry not to cleanse it, but come quickly unto us, for verily the Evil One hath strewn mischievous seed in the heart of the Shah which threatens a bitter harvest, and we look unto thee to speak wise words of counsel unto him that this calamity may be averted.”

Sore distressed by the words of the messenger, Zal shook his head sorrowfully, for he had not dreamed that this leaf on the royal tree would so soon show signs of canker. Nevertheless, he spoke words of comfort unto the messenger, saying:

“The great Kaikous is, I fear, puffed up with vanity, being not yet tried by either the cold or the heat of the world. And alas! I fear me, if what thou sayest be true, that the sun must revolve yet oft above his head ere he learneth the wisdom of the great; for unto true wisdom alone is it given to know when to strike and when to withhold the hand. Verily, he is like a child with a sword who thinketh the world and all therein must tremble, if he but upraiseth it. He will learn better with experience. I will not abandon him, therefore, to his folly, but will give him the best advice that I can. Then if he be persuaded by me, well; but if not, Rustem shall safeguard the army for the sake of the welfare of Iran.”

Now having thus spoken, Zal quickly girt about him his red sash of might, took in his hand his great mace and hastened unto the court, where, being received with great honor and kindness, he proceeded to unburden his heart, entreating the Shah not to give his warriors and treasure unto the wind by undertaking the useless journey into Mazinderan.

But Kaikous, arrogant and self-willed, only smiled at the warnings of the white-haired old warrior, saying unto him:

“O Pillar of Iran, while I despise not thy counsel, yet thy words shall not divert me from my purpose, for in thy arguments, one thing thou forgettest: that I, Kaikous, am bolder of heart, and my power and wealth greater than any of the Shahs of Old. Yea, and I ask you, who among them had such warriors as thyself, and Rustem, thy glorious son? But verily, I shall not need any of the house of Zal in this war, since thy heart is not set upon glory. Thou and Rustem, therefore, can guard the kingdom while I go forth to soul-appalling conflict, which I fear not,

“For what are all the Demon-charms, That they excite such dread alarms? What is a Demon-host to me, Their magic spells and sorcery? One effort, and the field is won; Then why should I the battle shun? Lo, when I reach the Demon fort, Their several heads shall be my sport!”

Thus spake the King in his pride and vanity, and Zal, seeing that words were useless, bowed his head low in the dust before the monarch, saying unto him:

“May the great Shah never have cause to recollect the warning voice of his servant with repentance or sorrow! May his glory shine on undimmed forever!”

Now when he had so spoken, Zal departed, and all the people mourned for they saw that Kaikous was wholly given over unto folly, and their hearts misgave them.

But not so was it with the King, for ere the week had run its course, the great army of Iran was set in motion, while at its head rode the vainglorious Kaikous, confident, self-satisfied, merry, his magnificent retinue of richly caparisoned horses and camels making the earth tremble beneath their tread. So they marched, each night pitching their tents and passing the hours in revel, until at last they were come near unto the land of enchantment. Then Kaikous, calling before him Gew, one of the bravest of his warriors, said unto him:

“O Valiant One, choose, I pray thee, two thousand of the bravest men, and the boldest wielders of the battle-axe, that ye may break down the gates of Mazinderan. In thy progress, burn and destroy everything of value, and when thou hast taken the city, spare no dweller of the place, neither man, nor woman, nor child, for all are Deevs.”

So Gew advanced, and when he was come unto the city, he found it indeed arrayed in all the splendor of Paradise, even as the minstrel had sung; for beauty, and verdure, and fragrance filled all the senses with delight, while gold, and jewels, and treasure of priceless value glittered and gleamed, and massed itself everywhere. And in all the streets, too, were beautiful maidens, richly adorned, with faces as bright as the moon, and cheeks tinted with the hue of the pomegranate flower by the beautiful Houri of Paradise. But Gew, knowing that all this was the work of enchantment, was not in the least beguiled. So soon clubs rained down upon the people like hail, and the city that resembled a garden was changed into a desert, and all the dwellers therein perished at the hands of the enemy; neither was mercy shown unto any.

Meanwhile, as this terrible work of slaughter and destruction was being performed by his brave warriors, the valiant Kaikous, at a safe distance, was encamped in splendid state upon the plain, indulging in revelry and the wildest dreams of a glorious victory. When the news of the destruction of the city and of the great treasure hidden within its palaces was brought unto him, therefore, wild with elation, he sprang to his feet, and holding his wine cup high, cried exultantly:

“Hail to the glorious Kaikous, who hath overcome even the Deevs of Mazinderan! Aye, and blessings upon the sweet singer who warbled unto him of this glorious land of treasure! May his life’s tree put forth many green leaves; may it blossom in the garden of Paradise!”

Thus spake Kaikous; and his warriors, too, rejoiced at the thought of the limitless treasure soon to be theirs. So on the following day the whole army pressed forward to join Gew and his warriors in Mazinderan, and for seven days they ceased not from plundering, neither was there an end to the gold and jewels which they found. And in their greed they sorrowed not for the beauty laid waste, or the woe which they had caused, but, like madmen, they spent their days in plundering and their nights in revelry.

But retribution was at hand, for now the news of the havoc being wrought by the Persians pierced even unto the ears of the distant King of Mazinderan, who at once despatched a messenger unto the Great White Deev, the most powerful and dreadful of all the master magicians of the East, entreating him to come at once unto the rescue, lest the whole land perish under the feet of Iran. Then the dreadful White Deev uprose in his wrath until he appeared like unto a snow-capped mountain in his fury, roaring like the River Nile, until all the earth trembled, and he said: