Part 15

And behold, when the Princess Tamineh from her balcony at last beheld the famous war-horse loom up along the shadowy road, so great was her joy that, regardless of the fact that Rakush was tossing his head, stamping his hoofs, and snorting protests like an angry dragon, she would have flown down to welcome him with soft caress, had not the faithful Fatima urged that such a step might undo all that had been accomplished.

But though the dawn brought joy unto Tamineh, its message unto Rustem was that of sorrow. For behold! when he called unto Rakush no answering neigh rang out the glad reply. Thinking, however, that his steed had perhaps but strayed beyond the sound of his first gentle call, the hero quickly came out into the open, calling unto Rakush in a voice of thunder; but still there came no answer. Then was the heart of the Mighty One troubled, for well he knew that his faithful steed had not willingly strayed away. Now in his dismay he said unto himself:

“What a dilemma! for now must I go on foot, carrying my quiver and my great club, this heavy helmet and coat of mail, and my life-destroying sword. And seeing me thus, how the Tartars will scoff, saying among themselves: ‘Behold the Mighty Rustem! While he slept, some one must have stolen his horse!’ Now thus shall I be put to shame before my enemies, that which never yet hath happened unto Rustem.”

Thus communing with himself, busily the hero searched for some trace of his missing steed, and not in vain, for at last he detected the footprints of a scuffle down by the stream that murmured at the foot of the shady glen. Here great hoof-marks pointed out the field of battle, the ground being ploughed up upon all sides, indicating how desperately the mighty steed had resisted his wily captors. Then farther on could be traced the steps of Rakush between two other horses, closely followed by a third, which plainly said unto Rustem that his faithful companion had been stolen.

And now, boiling over with rage and sorrow, the heart of Rustem beat to but one refrain: Vengeance! Vengeance upon the captors of Rakush! Pausing not, however, quickly he followed the traces of his horse’s hoofs, and lo! they led him unto the gates of Samengan. Then Rustem, perceiving whither the footprints led, sware unto Heaven a great oath, and he said:

“By the sun and moon and stars, I swear that if aught of harm hath come unto Rakush through this King or his people, verily the thief shall pay for it with his head!”

Meanwhile, knowing naught of the capture of Rakush, as Rustem approached the shining turrets of the city, great was the astonishment of the King and those about him when they beheld the manner of his coming. Nevertheless, they hurried forth to greet their distinguished guest, the King saying unto him:

“O glorious Pehliva, never hath Samengan been so honored in a guest, and lo! her King sayeth unto thee, ‘Welcome.’ But how happeneth it that the mighty Rustem cometh unto us afoot and unattended? If misfortune hath befallen, behold! we are all at thy service!”

But unto this courteous greeting Rustem replied coldly, relating briefly unto the King all that had come to pass. Then becoming more angry as he talked, once more the hero sware that many heads should quit their trunks if his charger were not returned unto him right speedily, void of harm.

Then the King, seeing that Rustem was beside himself with anger, spake words of comfort unto the hero, for he knew how dear unto him was his glorious steed. And he said:

“O Hero of Heroes! Be not so disturbed in thy spirit, for verily anger profiteth nothing. It is by charming that one lureth the serpent from his hole. As for Rakush,

If still within the limits of my reign, The well-known courser shall be thine again. For Rakush never can remain concealed No more than Rustem on the battle-field.

“Take courage, therefore, and be of good cheer, for soon thy glorious other self shall be restored unto thee, and all will be well. As for the thief, when detected he shall be placed in thy hands, to slay or to spare, according to thy good pleasure. But as for Rustem!—for this one night, at least, he must tarry at Samengan as our honored guest.”

So, being satisfied with these promises, Rustem put away all suspicion from his mind, and became the King’s guest. Then all day they feasted and made merry, beguiling the hours with wine and sweet words. Nor could the King sufficiently honor his guest, though he encompassed him with music and song, and waited upon him with his own hands, as though he were his slave. And behold! when night was fallen the monarch himself led Rustem unto a couch perfumed with musk and roses, bidding him slumber peacefully until morning, when he should again be made glad in Rakush, his steed.

Now thus delightfully couched, Rustem slept dreamlessly until the star of morning stood high in the arch of heaven. Then suddenly there fell upon his ear the murmur of soft womanly voices which caused the hero to start up in confused amazement. Seeing nothing, however, he closed his eyes again, for he thought that he had dreamed.

But though his conclusion was natural, the hero dreamed not, for presently the heavy curtains were drawn softly aside, and there stepped within the chamber a slave bearing a lamp perfumed with amber. And following after, her veil but half concealing her lovely face, Rustem beheld the fairest maiden his eyes had ever gazed upon. Now for a moment the lovely vision lingered upon the threshold, poised like a frightened bird for hasty flight, the rich color suffusing her olive cheek, her dark eyes beaming beneath their splendid lashes, and her pomegranate mouth, flower-soft and sensitive, slightly parted. Then gaining courage, slowly she advanced toward the hero, and as she moved, fragrance was scattered from her robes, and her long black ringlets, musk-perfumed, seemed unto Rustem as fateful as the warrior’s kamund. Yet, though enchanted, the warrior sighed, for again he thought he but dreamed.

But even as he would have settled himself once more unto slumber, behold, like music upon his ear fell the soft voice of Tamineh, bidding Fatima retire to the distant window. Now this fully awoke the young warrior, who, springing quickly from his couch, gazed in astonished delight at his enchanting visitor. Then Tamineh spoke in the soft, velvety tones she could use so effectively when she chose. And she said:

“My Lord Rustem, thou beholdest before thee the Princess Tamineh, daughter of the King, and she hath come thus into thy presence because the need is urgent. For she would crave thy pardon for a great wrong which she hath done unto thee, and which, she heareth, carrieth with it a fearful penalty.”

Now amazed at this most surprising confession poured forth from tempting lips, moulded for love’s recompense alone, for a second the valiant Rustem was silenced by the wonder and unexpectedness of it all. Quickly recovering himself, however, he replied unto the maiden:

“Thou, Fair Princess! Thou hast done me a wrong? Truly, I know not what wrong thou canst have done me, unless it be the mischief wrought by thy bright eyes since they have shone so radiantly upon me. It is true, my heart whispers unto me that thy wondrous beauty hath caught me in its snare, but if that be thy sin, it carrieth with it a delightful penalty—one which thou needst not fear.”

Now this reply, so unlike that of a mighty warrior, caused a roguish smile to play about the fascinating lips of the Princess Tamineh, who, casting upon the speaker one bright, admiring glance from her sparkling eyes, then modestly dropped them, replying demurely unto this gallant speech:

“Who knoweth, My Lord, but that, perchance, I would gladly add that theft unto the other! But greatly I fear that thou wilt consider my first offence the greater. For it was I, and none other, who had stolen from thee Rakush, thy steed of battle, who even now slumbereth peacefully in the royal stables.”

So spake Tamineh, and though, as we know, her words were true, yet was it long before she could persuade the master of Rakush that she did not jest. When she finally convinced him, however, so great was his joy in knowing Rakush safe and unharmed, that, behold, he forgot to be angry with the thief. But, after all, who could blame him? for the thief was very fair, and she confessed with a voice that rivalled the magic notes of the bulbul chanting unto his mate. And besides, the master of Rakush had it in his heart to ask a great boon of the Princess, and this time he remembered that not by anger, but by charming, one lureth a bird from the bush. So, smiling, he said unto Tamineh:

“Fair Princess, behold, thou standest before thy judge, convicted of two serious crimes. Two conditions must thou fulfil, therefore, if thou wouldst obtain thy pardon. First, the judge must be allowed to gaze upon the face of the fair culprit, else how can he administer suitable punishment? And second, he must be informed as to the motive of the theft, for that puzzle hath yet to be unravelled.”

Now at this embarrassing sentence, the lovely Tamineh stood silent before her judge, looking indeed like a culprit fostering half a desire to flee. But presently, rallying her forces, she replied bravely unto the Mighty One, though her soft voice trembled and she looked not up:

“My Lord Rustem, though news unto thee—since thou art a mighty warrior—I suppose it is yet true that every maiden hath her hero. Now it is owing to Fatima, there, who is a Persian, that I have mine: a hero of whose fame and valorous deeds I have dreamed my life long, whose like ne’er was and ne’er will be again, whose glory reacheth even unto the stars. And thou must know also, O Mighty One, that every maiden longeth to gaze upon the face of the only hero in the world for her. That is why I stole thy horse. And now, since thou knowest my utmost guilt, findest thou my crime too great for pardon?”

But unto this plea, for some minutes, Rustem replied not, for persistently his heart kept singing: “The only hero in the world for her! The only hero in the world for her!” Now praise was no new thing unto the Champion of the World, but never before had it been offered with such subtle charm. And besides, with joy the warrior recognized that here was a spirit akin unto his own in its dauntlessness and longings after the best. Drawing near unto the Princess, therefore, “The Only Hero in the World” said unto her softly:

“Fair Pomegranate Flower, one of the conditions, truly, thou hast fulfilled; but the other must be met also; for verily my eyes are hungry for full sight of lips that can murmur words so sweet to hear!”

But the Princess, drawing closer the long white veil which half concealed her face, stepped quickly back, saying proudly unto the eager Rustem:

“Nay, nay, my Lord! That is a privilege I grant only unto the man who weddeth me.”

Now saying this, slowly the Princess moved toward the curtains, as though she would go. But Rustem, detaining her, cried out impetuously:

“O Pearl among Women, stay! for verily my heart hath wakened and calleth unto thee for its mate. Only consent, therefore, and to-morrow will we be wed.”

But, though these words sounded unto Tamineh like a pæan of victory, she received them coldly; for well she knew that no man—least of all a warrior—careth for what he can win too easily. And then it was that Rustem, in whom contradiction ever roused a fiery purpose to obtain his will, vowed again and yet again that he could not live without her; that he would wed but her, and that before the morrow’s sun had set; that from henceforth honor and praise and glory would be as ashes unto his lips, unless shared with his Moon of Beauty.

So now, having thus aroused desire, softly the Princess drew aside her veil. Then before the enraptured Rustem had wakened to the danger, like a gay humming-bird, swiftly away she flew, leaving in his hands her veil, which he in his eagerness had seized lest she hide that lovely face again too soon. And as she fled, like chimes of bells there floated back the sound of merry laughter, which but fanned the flame glowing already so brightly in the awakened heart of the hero left gazing so ruefully upon love’s only token—the dainty, fragrant, cruel film of lace. Now regarding it tenderly, the warrior smiled and said:

“Behold, the gay young Singing-bird hath flown, leaving her pretty wing in the too rough hand of her captor! But, by the sun and moon and stars, I swear that yet shall she be mine, for mighty in love shall Rustem be as well as in deeds of valor.”

Consequently, when morning dawned, and the hero once more beheld the King, ceremoniously he asked Tamineh’s hand in marriage. Yea, and the monarch of Samengan listened unto him gladly, for was it not Rustem the Mighty who sued! And did he not know but too well the heart of his Moon of Beauty! So that very day was the marriage bower crowned with roses and decked with white lilies, while the royal abode was flooded with music and sunshine to grace the glad wedding of the Princess Tamineh. And when all was over, verily it seemed unto Rustem and his pretty Singing-bird as if the world, like some vast tidal wave, had rolled away, leaving them alone with their happiness upon the golden shores of the Land of Delight.

Now thus it was that Tamineh, Princess of Samengan, obtained her heart’s desire. And behold! for one bright summer month she tasted such happiness as is seldom vouchsafed, even unto the children of Ormuzd. Wandering in the myrtle groves, or strolling together in the shady forest, the Princess now heard from the hero’s own lips marvellous tales of adventure, and, the days passed for both like a happy dream. But alas! In the Book of Fate it is written that pure happiness is not for mortals, and so, when one bright moon had run her course, relentlessly sorrow—joy’s sombre twin—invaded this Land of Delight.

And behold! not suddenly, but with stealth, the invader drew nigh, attacking first the hero of battles. For gradually Rustem became restless, and impatient with his life of inactivity, longing intensely for the excitement of warfare and adventure to which he was accustomed and for which he was formed. For alas! Nature, in giving unto him his giant frame and mighty muscles, his valorous heart, and his soul that joyed, above all else, in battle, had planned and destined the mighty son of Zal to shine through all the ages—not as a lover, but as the type of the perfect warrior.

Now slowly this truth was brought home unto Tamineh, as she noted the ever-increasing restlessness of her hero, which even she could not always still, though she knew that he loved her tenderly. And though she spake not of it, her heart became burdened with sorrow, for she knew that the time was now not far off when Rustem would go back unto his own people and life, perhaps forgetting her in the more powerful attractions of war, while she must needs love him forever.

[Illustration: The days passed for both like a happy dream.]

And alas! Tamineh was right in her surmise, for it needed only the rumor that war had again broken out in Persia to cause Rustem to buckle on his sword and armor with joy at the prospect of battle. Then hastily seeking the King, he said unto him:

“O Royal Cypress, long have I rested in the shade of thy glorious land, but now I must say unto it farewell. For behold! duty calleth me back unto Iran, and it is well, for verily my sword hath rusted too long in its scabbard, and Rakush neigheth with longing to bear me once more in the thick of the fight.”

Now having thus spoken, the hero opened his arms and took unto his heart Tamineh, the Peri-faced, bathing her cheeks with tears and covering her hair and eyes with kisses; also he whispered unto his Singing-bird sweet words of enchantment. But alas for Tamineh! Clinging unto the neck of her hero, bitterly she wept, crying unto her beloved:

“O Light of my Life! I fear that thou goest from me forever, and how shall I live without thee?”

But, kissing away her tears, Rustem spake unto Tamineh brave words of comfort, telling her that he would surely return unto her when his fighting was over, laden with fresh laurels to lay at her feet. And he bade her be strong and dauntless of spirit, as was seemly for a warrior’s bride, since even for this was it that he loved her. And last of all, taking from off his arm an onyx bracelet, upon which was engraved the image of a Simurgh, he gave it unto Tamineh, saying:

“Pearl of my Heart, listen! If while I am away, God should send unto us a daughter, fasten this amulet under her curls. If, however, a son should be sent to gladden our hearts, then let him wear it upon his arm, as his father hath worn it, for it will protect him from the powers of evil, being the badge of Rustem and of Zal.”

Now having thus spoken, hastily Rustem threw himself upon the back of Rakush, and the wind-footed bare him swiftly away from out the sight of Tamineh, unto whom the world suddenly became dark, so blinded were her eyes with tears.

Then with leaden feet passed the days for the Princess Tamineh. Howbeit, as time passed on, news came from the Mighty Rustem of fresh victories, together with a present of three great rubies of priceless value and three wedges of finest gold. But alas! the letter said no word of the hero’s return, only of more battles and victories to come. And Tamineh, reading between the lines, sighed bitterly, taking no pleasure in the rubies and gold.

But a great joy was in store for Tamineh, for one night as she sat sorrowfully upon her balcony, suddenly she heard a flutter of mighty wings, and behold, there was dropped into her lap a priceless treasure—a babe whose mouth was filled with smiles, and who in feature resembled his glorious sire. Then was Tamineh comforted, and because of his smiles she called her babe Sohrab, which meaneth Sunshine.

SOHRAB THE YOUTH

Now if we are to believe what the old chronicles tell us, never, I suppose, since the world began was there born a more lovable babe than Sohrab, the son of Rustem. When he came unto his mother, behold, his eyes and mouth were still alight with the sunshine of Paradise, and, instead of crying, he kicked and crowed with delight, trying thus to say unto Tamineh that he was glad to leave even the Garden of the Blessed to come unto her.

And truly the babe was a joy to behold! for in addition to all the gay loveliness of Rustem’s bright Singing-bird, from his illustrious father he had inherited the splendid physique of the noble house of Zal. Following after Rustem, too, he grew so rapidly that when he was a month old he had the limbs of a yearling child; at three years he learned exercises of arms; at five he was bold as a lion; and at ten there was not a hero in the whole country who dared wrestle with him.

So, practising all the exercises of an athlete and a warrior, the boy grew up tall, dark, and straight as a young cypress, with limbs like unto an elephant, heart bold as a lion’s, and his foot as swift as that of the wild stag; yet withal, so simple, gay, generous, and lovable, that from his proud grandsire, the King of Samengan, down to the meanest subject in the realm, he was admired and adored by all—while as for his mother, unto her he was the very breath of life, filling every sleeping and waking thought.

Now Sohrab had inherited from Tamineh one trait which drew them very close together. For behold! whatever the day’s occupation, and no matter what else tempted, at the evening hour the boy always sought his mother upon the balcony, where, seated at her feet, his bright head pillowed in her lap, he spent the happiest hour of his day listening unto the marvellous hero tales that poured like magic from her lips. For Tamineh, wishing her boy to be steeped in the legends of his father’s land, gladly related unto him the wonder tales of the Persians, all of which found an answering echo in the eager young soul of her listener. For verily Sohrab could not have been the son of Rustem without longing for battle and adventure.

And of course in all these stories the Hero of Heroes was Rustem the Mighty, unto whom the fair narrator did full justice. For Tamineh loved “The Only Hero in the World for her!” still, though he had never returned unto her; and so, as her hand strayed in mute caress through the thick, dark locks of Sohrab—who was, alas, love’s only legacy unto her!—she told of all the Champion’s wondrous deeds of valor with such fire and passion that the cheeks of both glowed with the tremendous stress of it. Yea, and Sohrab never wearied of these tales, begging to have them repeated again and again; and, as a consequence, he grew up with the thought that never had the world known such a mighty Pehliva as Rustem the Persian.

And Rakush, too, delighted the boy’s soul—Rakush the dauntless who carried the great hero of his country so gallantly through the thickest of the fight; Rakush the lion-slayer; Rakush who neighed for joy at the battle’s roar; Rakush who feared neither man, nor dragon, nor Deev; Rakush the gentle, who loved to eat sugar from his master’s hand.

Now listening unto all these inspiring tales, Sohrab determined deep in his soul that one day he, too, would be a great hero—yea, even the Champion of the World, as Rustem, leading his armies on to victory, and performing such deeds of valor as should bring fame and glory unto Turan, his land, and pride unto the heart of his mother, whose cheek—he promised himself—should flush one day as she related his brave deeds, even as now when she spoke of Rustem, the Hero of Heroes. For did he not intend that the name “Sohrab” should go ringing down the ages as the symbol of courage, generosity, loyalty, high endeavor, and chivalrous deeds? Yea, he would try hard; then, perhaps, one day the great Rustem might hear of him, and it might even happen that he would meet him face to face.