The Reign of Khosrow Parviz (Part 9)

"Disaster has come upon this great house. We have all become sheep, and the enemy wolves."

When the wounded man heard her words and saw the clarity of her heart and mind — his cheeks torn by his own nails, his hair ripped out, his heart full of blood, his face streaming — he opened his mouth weakly and with grief:

"O pure and noble sister, there was nothing lacking in your counsel. But for me the measure was already full. Your advice never took hold in me. At every turn a demon blocked my way. There was no king greater than Jamshid — the world lived in fear and hope of him — yet he fell to the whispering of demons and brought darkness upon himself. So too the wakeful Kay Kavus, the fortunate lord of the world, was destroyed by the words of a foul demon — you have heard the evils that befell him. He flew to the sky so the turning sphere might show him the scattering of moon and sun. Demons led me astray as well and cut me short of goodness.

"I repent of every evil I have done. If God forgives, it is fitting. Fate was written this way upon my head. How can I now swallow the grief of old deeds? The water has risen above my crown. Grief and joy have all become wind. What was written was written, and what was, was. Writing neither diminishes nor ever increases.

"Your counsel is my legacy. Your words are earrings I will wear. The time of justice and injustice is finished now. Do not remind me again of your warnings. Turn your faces toward God, all of you. Set your backs against laughing fortune. Let the Lord of the world be your help against evils. Speak to no one of sorrow or joy. I had no other portion in this world. My time is done — I am leaving this life."

To Yalan Sineh he said: "I entrust the entire army to you. May watchful fortune be your guide. Look after this pure-bodied sister of mine — in all the world, let her be your counselor. Do not be separated from one another, not one of you. May there be no division among you. Do not linger long in enemy territory, for we are finished and have had our fill of the throne. Go together before Khosrow, speak to him and hear his words. If guidance comes to you from the king, call no one else sun and moon but him. Build my tomb in the cities of Iran. Tear down the palace of Bahram to nothing.

"I endured much hardship for the Khaqan of China, yet not once did he show gratitude. This was not the reward I deserved for that suffering — that he should send a demon to attack me. But surely if he hears of this, he will not know head from tail. This was nothing but the work of Iranians. A demon was the guide in their midst."

Then he commanded a scribe to come and write a letter on silk, telling the Khaqan: "Bahram is gone. He departed in misery, in humiliation, and unfulfilled. Remember these survivors for my sake. Keep them free from hardship and the malice of enemies. I never did you any wrong — I sought only honesty and wisdom."

He gave his sister much counsel, then took that precious head in his arms. He pressed his lips to the base of her ear. His two eyes filled with blood, and he gave up his soul.

Everyone wept bitterly over him. They lived on in the agony of their hearts. His sister cried out blood from grief and remembered his words one by one. Her heart split in two from sorrow. She had a narrow coffin made of silver, adorned his warrior's body in brocade, and placed fine linen beneath his shirt. She scattered camphor dust around him until his head was hidden from sight.

Such is the way of this transient inn. When you know you will not remain, do not torment yourself.

When the Khaqan heard what had befallen Bahram in pursuit of glory — when that letter reached him — all who heard it wept with grief. The news filled his heart with anguish. His eyes filled with blood, his face turned the color of lapis. He was struck dumb by the affair. He summoned every man of experience and told them what had happened to Bahram the champion. All who heard it wept bitterly. All China grieved for him — they burned without fire.

Then, one by one, the Khaqan set the accounts right. He looked to see who had unleashed this evil. Qalun had two children in Turan and kinsmen of every kind. When the truth was established, the Khaqan lit a fire. He burned Qalun's house and everything in it. He put Qalun's two children on the fire and gave all his possessions to plunder. When the turn came to the Khatun, he dragged her out from behind the curtain by her hair. He seized all her treasury and gave no thought to her suffering. He sent swift camels in every direction, but Kherad Barzin did not fall into his hands. Everyone in China who had served Qalun was dressed in blue garments of mourning.

For some time the Khaqan remained in mourning for Bahram, for the affair had brought him disgrace.

When Kherad Barzin reached Khosrow and told him everything he had done, seen, and heard, the heart of King Parviz was filled with joy — he was freed from that base-born enemy. He distributed silver among the poor, along with garments and goods of every kind. To every province and court, letters were written in Pahlavi announcing what God the Sustainer had done and how He had raised dust from the enemy.

The king wrote a letter to the Caesar, as befitted the throne. For an entire week they held banquets, calling for music and wine at every gathering. He sent gifts to the fire temple and bestowed robes of honor upon the Magi as well.

To Kherad Barzin the king said: "You deserve the crown and the throne itself." He filled his mouth with royal jewels and poured out a hundred thousand gold coins. The treasurer heaped treasure at his feet until there was scarcely room to stand. Everyone said: "Whoever strays from the path — his bright day turns black upon him. Such was Bahram on the field of battle, yet an old Turk brought him to ruin."

All the Magi called down blessings: "May the lowly never see the earth without you! May the fate of Bahram befall any man who does not desire your face to shine."

Afterward, once the Khaqan had emptied his heart and washed the land of China in blood like a red flower, he said one day: "Nothing of worth comes from a feeble man or a deed half-done. That famous warrior Bahram was the source of all our joy and fulfillment. Now why have I been so weak and slack toward his people? Anyone who hears of this will reproach me. No one will trust my oaths after this. I took no care of his young children, gave no thought to his kin and connections — though he was bound to us through his child, and his soul was cleansed by love and wisdom."

He summoned his brother and spoke to him at great length: "Go to Bahram's people. Call down abundant blessings upon them. Tell them I am wounded to the liver, that I am bound to this mourning as long as I live. I have washed the face of the land in blood for vengeance — the whole city witnessed both curses and blessings. In this grief, however much I seek revenge, even if I bring the sky crashing down to earth, no one escapes the command of God. This much the wise man knows: his fate was made that way — it was all the trickery of upside-down demons. My oath stands as I spoke it, and on that pledge and covenant we laid our foundation."

To Gordiyeh there was a separate letter: "O chaste and virtuous woman — all uprightness and humanity, your nature is abundance, far from any lack. I have thought long about your situation. Wisdom sat in counsel with my heart. I have found no one better than you to be the mistress of my house. Come — bring your judgment to our court. I will hold you as dear as my own body and soul. I will strive never to break my covenant with you. After that, this city is yours to command. I will pledge my heart as hostage to whatever you desire. Now gather everyone you have and speak these words before the wise. Then consider what course your judgment dictates — let wisdom guide your bright soul. Let wisdom rule over those people, and inform me of what is decided."

The envoy departed like a turtledove from a cypress. The Khaqan's brother came riding swiftly to Merv. He was welcomed by the notables and went among Bahram's people. He told them everything the Khaqan had said — that he was distraught with grief for the slain. Then he said: "O wise men, you esteemed and experienced lords — may your reward for this be great, and may the just Judge be his ally. It was a sudden death, not a purposeful one — no one in the world suspected it."

Then he gave the letter privately to Gordiyeh and recounted all the Khaqan's words — about the bond, the counsel, the fine speech, old and new — about the purity and virtue of a woman who is both a comfort and a counselor.

The young man spoke, and that chaste woman listened. She chose silence over his words. Then, when she had read the letter — the Khaqan's self-serving words — she paired wisdom with knowledge and composed a reply in her heart.

She said: "I have read this letter. I seated wisdom beside me. The Khaqan has acted as kings act, as the worldly-wise and the great act. May my world-seeing eye be bright, for he seeks my vengeance so. May his heart never be wounded by grief. May the world's hope never be cut from him. May the world never be empty of the Khaqan. May the crown of sovereignty rejoice in him.

"But now, since we sit together, let us read the letter through, start to finish, so that every man of greatness and wisdom may examine this proposal one by one. Right now, the whole clan is in lamentation. This is not the time for such talk. When the mourning of so great a lord has passed, there will be no refusing the Khaqan's command. I myself have no prospect of returning to Iran. A virtuous woman needs no husband better than you. But if I take to the road this quickly, what will that wise king say of me? The wise will call me shameless. The Khaqan will think me without modesty.

"When four months have passed in this mourning, I will send a rider to the king. I will hear everything that must be heard, and see what the speakers bring to light. I will set it all down in a letter, and when a guide comes to him, he will know.

"For now, depart from here in joy. Tell the Khaqan what I have said."

She gave the envoy many gifts. The worldly man rode away from Merv, well pleased.

Afterward, the young woman sat in council with her wise advisors. She said: "A new matter has arisen that will never grow old upon the heart. The Khaqan has dressed himself up and adorned his words in every fashion. There is nothing wrong with him — he is a great king, bold, master of the army of Turan. But when Iranians try to bind themselves in kinship with Turks, the bonds of those days bring only grief and suffering in the end.

"Consider what Siyavash gained from Afrasiyab — nothing but the burning of the sun. He threw his own head away for nothing — a young man the likes of whom no mother ever bore. And what did the son of Siyavash do? He raised dust from both Turan and Iran.

"Make ready. We will leave the Turks secretly and carry this business to Iran without warning. I have already written a letter to Gorduy, and have taken care of this matter in advance — so that he can make our situation clear to the king and speak of our hardship and our grief. By the power of God, when the king hears this, he will believe my smooth words."

Everyone said: "You are our lady. In Iran and China you are the backbone and the arm. An iron mountain cannot move you from your place. You are the guide of champions in courage — wiser than any wise man, more alert than any knowing counselor. We are all your subordinates. Your command stands. In this desire, the plan and the covenant are yours."

When she heard them, she called the paymaster, gave him silver, and seated him at the registry. She came and reviewed the army from end to end. She selected one thousand three hundred and sixty warriors — each horseman worth ten on the field of battle. She paid them and returned home.

She told the battle-ready army: "Every man who has known the leather of the stirrup, whose heart does not flinch on hills or in valleys, who does not fear a horde of killers even if clouds rain arrows upon him — we are strangers in Turan, without support or allies, feeble and despised among the great. I intend to ride when darkness falls and the enemy's head grows dull with sleep. Do not let your hearts be troubled about the march, for the Chinese will send an army after us. Commanders will certainly come behind me with heavy maces. Set your lives in your palms, every one of you. If an army comes, stand and fight. But if this is not your will, do not stir a single man from this place."

They answered in one voice: "We are your servants. We will not stray from your command."

On this they agreed and rose. They armed themselves for war with China. Yalan Sineh, Mehr, and Izadgoshasp mounted with the other notables. Everyone was saying: "Better to die with a name than to live while the Chinese gloat."

Gordiyeh went at once to the caravan, requisitioned camels from the desert, and chose three thousand to carry the baggage and supplies. When night fell dark, Gordiyeh mounted — proud as a warrior, mace in hand. She threw on a precious horse-armor, with chainmail, sword, and warrior's helm. She drove the army along the road like wind, through shining days and black nights.

Many from the army deserted and went weeping to the Khaqan. His brother came before him: "O famed and warlike lord! The brave army has marched for Iran. Many deserters have come to us. This shame will be laughed at forever by your army and your realm."

The commander of China heard these words, and the color drained from his face with rage. He told his brother: "Ride fast and muster the army. Find where they have gone. When you reach them, do nothing harsh at first. Begin with gentle words. None of them knows our roads — perhaps you can break the backs of our enemies. Speak well and soothe them. Lift their heads with honor. But if anyone makes war with you, fight like a man and do not hesitate. Make a graveyard of them at Merv, so the earth becomes like a pheasant's wing."

The commander rode out with six thousand picked Turkic cavalry. On the fourth day he overtook them. The lionhearted woman, when she saw the army, gave it not a moment's thought. She rode like wind from her troops to the camel-drivers, placed the baggage train behind them, then came back and surveyed the field of battle. She put on her brother's armor and mounted his war-horse.

The two armies drew up their lines face to face, every soul holding life in the palm of the hand. At the front of the Turkic army came Taborg — the one the Khaqan called the Old Wolf. He called out to the Iranians: "Is that chaste woman not with this great company?"

Gordiyeh rode out in heavy armor, belted like a warrior. The brave Taborg did not recognize her. He spurred forward and said: "Where in this army shall I find the sister of the slain king? I have many things to say to her — some new, some from older days."

Gordiyeh said: "Here I am — the one who spurs her horse upon the ravening lion."

When Taborg heard her voice — there on that war-horse, huge as a mighty lion — he was astonished. He said: "The Khaqan of China chose you for this sovereignty so that you might be his memorial of Bahram the Lion, that chosen horseman. He says: 'I will repay that kindness, if she will only listen.' He told me to ride fast and tell you: 'Even if you have not seen the face of what I promised — consider that I never said it at all, or that I have now withdrawn from it. You cannot leave this land. Do not desire it, even if you have no husband. Weave words together in this fashion. And if she does not accept counsel — use force.' He kept her under those promises, but his words went beyond measure."

Gordiyeh said: "Let us step aside from the battlefield, away from the two armies. I will answer everything you have said and give you my fortunate counsel."

Taborg rode out from the front of his army and came toward the fearsome woman. When she saw him alone, the resourceful woman opened her face from the dark helm.

She said: "You have seen Bahram. You admired his horsemanship and his fighting. He was both mother and father to me. Now his time has come to its end. So now I will put you to the test — let me show you something of battle. If you prove worthy as a husband, tell me — for in truth I do desire a husband."

She said this and spurred her horse. Behind her Izadgoshasp came charging. She drove a lance into Taborg's waist-belt that ripped through his armor and his body. Yalan Sineh and the chosen troops spurred into the battle. They shattered the entire Chinese army, killing and throwing down and wounding. For two leagues the army pursued them. Few remained on their horses. The whole plain became a river of blood — one man headless, another flung upside down.

Victorious, she marched toward Iran, toward the court of the king of warriors. On the fourth day she reached Amuy. You have never seen a woman who became a conqueror of the world. At Amuy she rested for a time, though conflicts multiplied in her heart.

Gordiyeh wrote a letter to her brother Gorduy, in pain, informing him of everything. First she spoke of Bahram the warrior — that he had died in grief and sorrow for his brother. "May our reward be great, and may his soul be untroubled by us."

Then she said: "Tell the exalted king what you have heard from me as counsel. A great army came after us — all of them famous warriors. I turned them from battle in such a manner that they will see neither war nor feasting again. Many renowned lords are with me. May no harm come to them. I have settled at Amuy and wait for my answer — perhaps my fortunate star will bring it."

After that, the king sat at ease, for Bahram the warrior had been removed from his path. He saw no one among the great men who was a vengeful rival willing to confront him.

One day he said to his trusted counselor: "How long must this thought remain hidden? The killer of my father passes before me constantly, as though he were my own kinsman. When my bright soul is full of blood, how can I go on ruling?"

They laid the table and he drank several cups of wine. That same day he had Banduy clapped in chains. Then he said to his executioner: "Cut off his hands and feet — now." They cut them off. Banduy died on the spot and yielded his blood-soaked soul to Khosrow.

Afterward, the king sent a messenger to Khorasan with many instructions. He told him: "Do not breathe a word to anyone. Go from here to the governor's gate. Tell Gostahm: 'Do not delay in any way. When you read this letter of mine, come at once.'"

The messenger reached Khorasan and arrived at the court of that comfortable man. He delivered what Parviz had commanded — for the young king was a man of blood.

When Gostahm heard, he mustered his army and recalled his scattered troops. He marched until he reached the city of the great men, passing from Sari and Amol to Gorgan. There he learned that the king of Iran had grown brutal — that he had murdered his own uncle while drunk.

When he heard this, he bit his hand. He dismounted from his dun horse. He tore his Pahlavi robes apart and poured dust upon his head, wailing. He knew that the king intended to destroy him next, in vengeance for his father.

He turned back from that place, roaring — you would say he had become a partner of the wind. He gathered his scattered forces into an army and rode hard to the forest of Narun. When he reached the slopes near Amol, he drew his army into the forest. He launched raids in every direction — those raids were the drawing of vengeance. Wherever idle men could be found, they became his servants for a loaf of bread. Wherever the king's army was stationed — and Gostahm knew those armies well — he would fall upon their commanders and scatter the troops one by one.

When Gorduy went to the king, he told him what his sister had done with the army — what she had done to the Khaqan's governors, how she had raised dust from them at Merv. Meanwhile, Gostahm too had heard that Bahram the champion's measure was full — and that Gordiyeh had marched from that great lord's domain with a large army, and that a pursuing force had come after her in vengeance, and what she had done to those Chinese notables.

Gostahm mounted his army to go meet her and marched from his position. When Gordiyeh learned of it, she rode ahead from Amuy with her notables. When Gostahm saw that army on the road, he spurred from the midst of his forces and came to Gordiyeh, full of grief. He mourned Bahram at great length. Then he told her the agony of Banduy — wiping the blood from his eyelashes with his sleeve.

When he saw Yalan Sineh and Izadgoshasp, he dismounted from a distance, weeping. He said: "The king destroyed Banduy, and my days have turned dark. You would think Banduy was not born of the king's own sister, that he had not given his body and blood for Khosrow's sake. You would have held him upon your head in honor. You would have sacrificed your soul before his dust. But first the king cut off his hands and feet — in the fashion his noble birth deserved.

"What hope do you have in Khosrow now? Where is the time of safety and shelter? He will do worse to all of you. He will make flesh cheap in the cities. The moment he sees Yalan Sineh from a distance, he will fly into a rage and renew his vengeance — because you were Bahram's commander, and through him you found your place in the world. For anyone Khosrow knows, avoidance is best. A sharp dagger at the throat is what awaits.

"If you will stand with me, I will take counsel on this matter, weighing every side."

Everyone who heard his counsel accepted it. Each man sought a way out of danger. Gostahm spoke sharply to Gordiyeh, invoking Bahram's deeds. His words shook her resolve. Doubts took root upon her heart. They all stayed at his side. His dark counsel grew bright.

He said to Yalan Sineh: "Sound this woman out about marriage. What does she say? See if she will accept, for honor's sake."

Yalan Sineh answered: "Let me speak to her. I will court her heart with many words."

Yalan Sineh said to Gordiyeh: "Woman — in all the world I have seen you as a counselor. You rightly kept your distance from the Khaqan, for your judgment was chosen by the freeborn. What do you say about Gostahm the champion, the king's uncle — wealthy, a general, a warrior with an army?"

She replied: "A husband from Iran — one through whom our lineage is not destroyed."

Yalan Sineh gave her to Gostahm. He was a brave warrior of noble blood. He kept her like a fresh apple, never seeing a fall from his heights. Whenever an army came from Khosrow's side, old times were made new again for Gostahm. Whenever he saw the king's army broken, he would raise his bow to the moon.

So it went for some time, until Gostahm became a pain in the king's soul. One day Khosrow erupted in fury and said to Gorduy: "Gostahm has married Gordiyeh. That great company went over to him. I believe she was their counselor. An agent has come from Amol, one of my spies, and revealed everything that was hidden."

He spoke in this manner until night fell. The eyes of the warriors grew weary from his words. When attendants brought candles and called for wine, and the whole palace was made splendid, the king cleared the hall of outsiders. He sat upon his throne with his advisor — Gorduy and Khosrow alone together — and the matter of Gordiyeh was debated at length.

Khosrow said: "I have sent many armies from here to Amol seeking vengeance. They all came back wounded and killed, full of groaning and melting away. Now I have one plan in this matter — and from this plan, crown and throne hang in the balance. When Bahram Chobin lost his way, Gordiyeh was always my well-wisher. Now I have a stratagem at hand. Do not speak of this before the court.

"A letter must be written to Gordiyeh — like a stream of wine in the garden of paradise: 'I will show you love. In every place and every affair I will be your ally. A long time has passed and my tongue never opened the secret upon my heart. Now is the time for speaking, for Gorduy is to us as our own body. See how you might devise a plan so that the foul demon disappears — bring Gostahm beneath the stone, and bring our heart and home into our grasp. When you have done this, I will give your army — and every well-wisher of yours in the world — whatever province you desire, and you will be sovereign over it. You will come to my golden harem, and all my vengeance will be fulfilled. Upon this I will swear the strongest oath. I will add bond upon bond. If my heart turns from this oath, may my kin find no joy in me.'"

Gorduy said: "May you be blessed — like Venus in the house of Virgo. You know that I hold my life, my children, my settled land and kin as nothing against your head, even though these things are precious. I will send someone to her at once and illuminate her dark soul. I need a note with the king's seal upon it — his handwriting shining like the moon. I will send my own wife to Khavareh, to remove any ill-wisher from this door, for such business is no one's work but a woman's — especially a woman who is a counselor. However I look at this, your message must go to my sister. This matter will come to your desire swiftly. Nothing more need be added."

When Khosrow heard this he was overjoyed. All the burdens on his heart became wind. He called at once for paper from the treasurer, and for ink ground from black musk. He wrote a letter like a garden — the flowers of the garden like the cheeks of the beloved — full of oaths, bonds, and pledges, and every kind of entreaty and counsel.

When the heading of the letter dried, they set a seal of musk upon it, and a signet bearing the name of King Parviz was pressed into the black musk.

Gorduy also wrote a letter, filling it with counsel and many things. At the head he wrote: "What Bahram did brought shame upon the entire clan and land. May God bring mercy upon him. May there be no regret for what was spoken. Anyone whose soul lacks wisdom does not weigh the great and small of affairs. If he has gone, we follow after him. Let us trust in the justice of the Lord of the world. When my wife comes to you, she will illuminate your dark soul. Do not turn from her words in any way. If you do, fortune's face will turn sallow."