The Reign of Yazdegerd III (Part 2)

The king told Mahouy what had befallen them -- how the color and fragrance had gone from this kingdom. He wrote of Rostam, who was slain on the day of battle, and how the world had grown narrow upon them with grief. He had fallen at the hand of one called Sa'd ibn Waqqas -- a man of no homeland, no lineage, no learning, no ambition.

"Now as far as the gates of Ctesiphon, the enemy's army presses in, and this same speckled crow stands before us. You, with your army, make ready for war. Rally your forces to this cause. I myself will come on the heels of this letter, swift as the wind. I will come to you, O pure and worthy lord."

He chose another envoy from the assembly -- a man of clear mind and sound counsel -- and wrote a second letter, this one to Tus. His heart was full of blood and his face the color of sandalwood.

First he praised the just Creator, from whom he had seen strength, fortune, and merit -- the Lord of victory and royal glory, who rules from the leg of the mosquito to the wing and talon of the eagle, on dry land the elephant and in water the crocodile. Nothing passes beyond His covenant and command; not a breath is drawn without His will.

"From the king of the world, Yazdegerd the Great, whose father was a renowned and mighty king, protector of all that moves and all the land, from the seed of great men who know God, who give thanks to the stars for their crown, through whom the face of the earth was made prosperous, who lit up crown and throne and signet ring --

"To the wardens of the marches who hold treasure and rank, who possess glory and stature, justice and right ways. Shamiran and Ruyin Dezh and Ra'ba Kuh, Kalat on the other side, and the rest of your company. May the Creator be our guardian. May you be unharmed from the evils of the age. May the harm of the high heavens not reach you, nor the assault of the malicious Ahriman.

"This sign has become famous throughout the world -- that our hearts are full of respect, compassion, and justice toward men of noble birth and lineage. Especially your lineage, whose labors on behalf of kings exceed any treasury.

"When Bahram Chubin appeared and drew his head from obedience to our crown, your hearts were tormented and you left your broad cities, your gardens, fields, and palaces. On these ancient highlands and tall mountains you built strongholds against the threat of harm. If God grants us strength and our days turn according to our heart's desire, we will increase your reward for this goodness and offer prayers for this initiative.

"Surely the news has already reached you of what the stars have brought upon our heads -- from these snake-eating demons with their inhuman faces, devoid of wisdom and shame, with neither treasure nor name nor throne nor lineage, who would give the world to the wind. Much treasure and many jewels have been scattered. Many heads have been pressed into the dust. Such has become the compass of the high wheel of heaven -- that ruin should come to this kingdom.

"From these crow-faced men without luster or substance, without sense, without learning, without name, without shame. Nushin-Ravan had seen this in a dream -- that color and luster would drain from this throne. He dreamed that a hundred thousand Arab warriors on drunken camels with broken reins would cross the Arvand River, and not a thread of the old fabric would remain upon this land. In Iran and Babylon there would be neither sowing nor harvest. Dark smoke would rise to the sphere of Saturn. The fire in the fire-temples would dim to near death. The feast of Nowruz and the festival of Sadeh would grow dark. From the palace of the king, the battlements would fall into the field, every one.

"Now the answer to that dream has appeared. Fortune means to withdraw its neck from us. Everyone who is honored will be made low. The lowborn will find fortune rising. Evil will spread across the world -- harm in the open, goodness hidden. In every province, a tyrant will appear, and with him an ugly monster. The signs of the dark night have come. The light is about to flee.

"Now, by the guidance of our counselors and all the commanders of pure judgment, we have set our face toward Khorasan, toward the wardens of the marches who seek the crown. Let us see what the turning of fate will say to this uncertain course.

"For the sake of the Kanarang of Tus, we have brought our elephants and war-drums in this direction. Farrukhzad is of one flesh with us and is our kinsman and friend besides. He is now at war in Altuniyeh, his face turned toward battle with the enemy.

"Now Keshmagan, the son of that battle-seeker, has come to us at this court. He has spoken of what is fitting -- both of service and of obligation. We have heard from him everything about these frontier regions: the heights and the lowlands, the caves and the hidden places. The castle of the domed mountain as far as Kharmaneh, and the lapis-colored fortress for storing provisions. He showed us everything that heartened us, all the good qualities that lay in his mind.

"We sent men from here to inspect every place and investigate matters front and back. But for so dense an army as ours, it is not possible to sit in these narrow fortresses. We sat and deliberated with our counselors. All the commanders assembled. We discussed and calculated from every angle, and in the end agreed unanimously:

"From crown and throne and signet ring and seal, from garments of Rum and Kashmir and China, from precious things that have come to hand, from Rum and Taif -- everything we possess, everything from us that has not been dispersed, whether clothing or furnishings, gold items and uncut cloth, things that cannot be easily transported -- and also provisions of every kind that we will need:

"Forty thousand oxen to pull the carts, bearing the burden until it reaches its destination. Then twelve thousand donkey-loads of wheat in sheaves, brought to us as grain. Also millet, pistachios, and pomegranate seeds -- let a capable priest bring these. Ten thousand camel-loads of each of these items, carried by Bactrian camels. A thousand cart-loads of salt as well -- let us see what fate decrees. A thousand loads of dates and a thousand of sugar, counted and reckoned precisely. Twelve thousand loads of honeycomb -- let it all be hauled to the fortresses at once. And forty thousand salted hides -- bring whatever will be needed.

"Three hundred camel-loads of royal gold-brocade -- let them bring it on pack-animals over two months. Let a priest come with a retinue from the stronghold of Shamiran and from Ra'ba Kuh, together with their elders and learned men -- the great ones who belong to the Kanarangid families. Within two days let them deposit the letter-inventories at the fortresses, giving one copy to our treasurer and keeping another for the great men of that assembly.

"Surely on those highlands and tall mountains, no harm will come from Turk or Arab. In these dire times, you will be a mighty arm for us.

"Let our eloquent and skilled vizier command our treasurer: whoever does not begrudge the labor for this, let him send five suits of Persian garments, and a fine gold-patterned headband. They will see the reward of this effort in the end. In these ruinous and grim times, let each receive forty dirhams from our treasury. By the standard of anyone who is a subordinate, even if one of these coins comes to hand -- it bears on one side sixty units and four dangs. Let him bring it inscribed and read aloud: on one face, the name of God the Pure, from whom comes hope and from whom comes awe. On the other face, the image of our crown and our likeness -- the earth made fertile by our grace. At Nowruz and Mehregan it is likewise adorned -- two great festivals, celebrated with generosity.

"Peace upon the world, upon the man of few desires, upon whoever remembers our crown."

A high-starred, fame-seeking rider came with the king's letter in his hand. From that place they raised the war-drums. From Bost and Nishapur he traveled onward to Tus.

When Mahouy the Syrian heard that the king and his army had come as far as the borders of Tus, he went out to meet him with a great force -- all spearmen in armor. When the glory and splendor of the king became visible -- the great banner and all those troops -- Mahouy quickly dismounted from his horse and added to his obeisance the gestures of a slave. He walked softly over the hot ground, his eyes full of tears, blushing with shame. He kissed the earth and prostrated himself, and remained before the king for a long time.

When Farrukhzad saw Mahouy's face and the army drawn up in such array, his heart was gladdened by Mahouy the Syrian. He reminded him of much counsel: "This king, of the seed of the Kayanids, I have entrusted to you. Bind your waist in his service. Let not even a breeze blow upon him, nor any burden be set on his shoulders. I must go now toward Ray. I do not know when I will see this crowned king again. For many like me have been destroyed in battle against those spearmen. There was no rider in the world like Rostam, nor has the ear of a wise man ever heard of his equal. He was slain at the hands of a mere crow -- and now this reversal of fortune has come upon me. May God grant him a place among the righteous. May the black crow feel the pain of the arrowhead."

Mahouy replied, "O commander, the king is my eye and the light of my soul. I accept this charge of yours -- your heavens, your king."

Farrukhzad son of Hormozd departed from that place toward Ray, by the king's command.

More time passed under the turning heavens, and affection separated from the mind of the wicked man. The shepherd began to covet the throne. His manners and his nature changed. He feigned illness for a time, making his attendance on the king difficult.

There was a commander of wide ambitions named Bizhan, whose lineage came from Tarkhan. His seat was in the city of Samarkand, and he had many connections in that region. When Mahouy, that ill-starred wretch, gave himself over to his own will, a letter went from him to Bizhan:

"O commander's son, free from harm -- a profitable battle has come before you. The king of the world with his army is here, with his crown and throne and diadem. If you come, his throne and crown will be yours, and his treasure and his black parasol as well."

When Bizhan looked at the letter, he saw the world spread before Mahouy's self-will. He said to his vizier, "O chief of the righteous, what counsel do you have in this matter? If I march my army to Mahouy's aid, my position here will be ruined. The king of China will mock me. He will call me a man without honor, a flatterer. But if I do not act, he will say I held back out of fear -- that I am afraid of the day of shame and battle."

The vizier answered: "O lion-hearted warrior -- it would be beneath you to go from here to aid Mahouy and return. Command Barsam to go with the army to that battlefield as your auxiliary. If you go to war on the word of a Syrian, a man of substance will call you reckless."

Bizhan said, "This is the right counsel. I myself should not stir from my place." He ordered Barsam to bring ten thousand men to Marv and prepare for battle, so that he might seize the treasury of Iran. The army from Bukhara, like a flock of painted pheasants, came in one week to the city of Marv.

In the dark night, at the hour of the cock's crow, the sound of war-drums rose from that frontier. The lord of the world had no idea that Mahouy the Syrian was his enemy.

At dawn, at the break of day, a rider came galloping to the king: "Mahouy says that an army has come from the Turks. What is the king's counsel now? The commander is the Khaqan, and the Faghfur of China is with him -- the earth cannot bear his army."

The king was enraged. He put on his armor. The world turned dark with dust from every direction. When he saw the strength of the Turkish assault, he drew his sword from its sheath. Like an elephant he rode into the vanguard of the army. The ground became like the sea of the Nile.

When he charged the Turkish army, not a single warrior remained at his back. His own men all turned their backs on their king. When Mahouy turned away, the king of the world understood his treachery in secret. This had been Mahouy's plan all along -- that the king would be left alone amid the enemy army.

The king fought on without restraint, striking with sword, foot, and stirrup. He cut down many of those warriors, but when he grew desperate, he showed his back. Many Turks were behind him, one of them a man from Kabul with a sword in his fist.

The king galloped on, burning like lightning from a cloud. There was a mill on the bank of the canal of Zarq. The king of the world dismounted from his horse and hid from his enemies inside the mill.

The horsemen set out searching. The whole Zarq canal buzzed with talk about him. His horse with its golden bridle was left behind, along with his mace and his gold-sheathed sword.

The Turks went shouting in search of him, agitated by the sight of his horse and gear.

Hidden in the house of the mill, he sat upon dry grass and straw. Such is the way of this deceitful world -- its heights are high and its depths are deep. When his fortune had been awake, the heavens raised his throne to the sky. Now a mill had become his portion, and its bitterness far outweighed its sweetness.

Why do you bind your heart to this house of illusion? For soon the drum-beat will sound in your ear: "Pack your belongings!" -- and you will see no throne but the vault of the tomb.

His mouth untouched by food, his eyes full of tears, he waited there until the sun rose.

The miller opened the door of the mill, carrying a load and some grass on his back. He was a low-born man named Khosrow -- with no throne, no treasure, no crown, no ambition. He made his living from that mill and attended to nothing else.

He saw a man tall as a cypress, seated on the millstone like one in mourning. A royal crown was on his head. His garment shone with Chinese brocade. He wore patterned golden shoes on his feet, and the sleeves of his coat were sewn with pearls and gold.

Khosrow stared at him, dumbstruck. In his astonishment he invoked the name of God.

"O king with the face of the sun," he said, "how did you come to this mill? What kind of seat is a mill for you -- full of wheat and dust and bits of straw? What manner of man are you, with this glory and this stature? Surely the heavens have never seen your like."

"I am of the Iranians," said the king. "I fled from the Turanian army."

The miller said to him with embarrassment: "I have nothing but poverty for a companion. If bread of dried curd will serve, and these poor greens from the streambank -- I will bring what I have. A man in want will weep at his condition."

For three days the king of the world had eaten nothing from battle -- not a morsel from any table or feast. The king said to him, "Bring what you have. Even humble food has its place and purpose."

The poor man quickly set down a platter, placed greens and dried-curd bread upon it. Then he hurried off to fetch the barsom -- the ritual bundle -- and made his way to the place where the fire-temple stood.

He went straight to the chief priest of Zarq to ask for a barsom. But Mahouy had sent men in every direction, searching the world for the king and nothing else.

The chief priest asked the miller, "For whom do you want the barsom, Ruzbeh?"

Khosrow said, "In my mill there is a man tall as a standing cypress, with the radiance of the sun and the glory of heaven. His brows are curved like bows and his eyes dark and troubled -- his mouth full of sighing, his brows full of fury. He wishes to hold the barsom and perform the liturgy. You would be right to marvel at him. I set before him an old platter with my own poor bread of dried curd. He deserves better."

The chief priest said, "Get out of here. Go and say the same to Mahouy the Syrian. We must not let that base-born wretch bring out his true nature when he hears this."

The chief priest quickly handed him over to a soldier, and the worldly-wise man was brought before Mahouy.

Mahouy questioned this seeker: "For whom did you want the barsom? Tell the truth."

The God-fearing man answered: "I was bringing a load to the mill. I opened the door of the mill in anger -- and it was as if I saw the sun with my own eyes. His two dark eyes were like the eyes of a startled deer, like the eyes of a man past the third watch of the night. The mill has become like the sun because of him. His food is dry bread and his seat is straw. Anyone who has not seen the glory of God with his own eyes should hear it from this miller. His crown is full of unpolished gems. His garment shines with Chinese brocade. He is like a spring garden in the month of Ordibehesht. No nobleman's cypress was ever planted as tall as him."

When Mahouy's heart filled with dust, he knew this could be no one but Yazdegerd.

He said to the miller, "Hurry from this assembly. Go now and cut his head from his body. If you do not, I will cut off your head this instant. I will not leave a single one of your kin alive."

The nobles heard these words. The whole assembly was filled with rage at Mahouy, their tongues full of protest and their eyes full of tears.

There was a priest named Raduy, who kept a bridle on his soul and his reason. He said to Mahouy, "O man of evil thought, why has the demon darkened your eyes? Know this: kingship and prophethood are two jewels set in a single ring. You would shatter one of them? You would trample your soul and your reason underfoot? Beware of what you are saying. Do not turn against the Creator. The harm will come first to you. You will leave your son a field whose fruit is bitter and whose leaves are blood. Soon you will see your own head brought low. Through you the faith of God will be ruined, and crown and throne will heap curses on you. Your shame will be laid bare in the world. Your son will surely reap the harvest you have sown."

A man devoted to God was there, one who had never turned his hand to evil -- Hormazd Kharrad by name, whose peace of mind rested in the faith. He said to Mahouy, "O tyrannical man, do not stray from the path of pure God like this. I see your heart and your mind gone dark. I see thorns in your embrace. You are large of body but shrunken of brain and soul. You seek smoke from fire as your prize. From this world only reproach will be yours, and burning toil and the pain of decay. Your life now will be joyless. When you depart, your seat will be in fire."

The chief priest of the city rose to his feet. He said to Mahouy, "What is this recklessness? The king of kings used to come to battle -- and from the Khaqan and the Faghfur came his allies. Many from this helpless lineage have been captured before, and yet no one ever rushed to kill them. If you are a servant, do not spill the blood of kings, for the curse will be upon you until the resurrection."

He spoke and sat down weeping in grief, his heart full of blood and his eyelashes wet with yellow tears.

When the priest sat down weeping, Mehrnush rose, full of sorrow, with lamentation and outcry. He said to Mahouy, "O base man of base birth, who knows neither the wisdom of consequences nor justice -- even the crocodile feels shame before the blood of kings. Even the leopard, seeing a king slain, does not tear the body.

"You are worse than any wild beast in compassion and temperament, and yet you desire the throne of the king? When Jamshid was slain by the hand of Zahhak, how many turns did the heavens make above him? When Zahhak seized the face of the earth, Abitin appeared in the world, and Feridun of noble lineage was born -- the world was given a new order. You have heard what that unjust Zahhak brought upon himself in the end. Nearly a thousand years passed over him, and at last the reckoning came for him.

"And second: Tur, that proud man, whom the lust for Iran drove to madness -- he killed the pure-souled Iraj. The turning of the heavens dealt harshly with him. Manuchehr appeared from that same seed and became the key that unlocked every bond of evil.

"Third: Siyavash, of the seed of the Kayanids, who girded his waist with no selfish desire. Through the words of Garsivaz, Afrasiyab stripped his soul and mind of shame and honor. The world-lord Kay Khosrow came from Siyavash's loins and filled the world with outcry. He split his grandfather in half with a dagger and filled the heads of the vengeance-seekers with terror.

"Fourth: the vengeance for Arjasp, who shed the blood of Lohrasp. When Esfandiyar came to battle, he gave him not a moment's respite.

"Fifth: the vengeance for King Hormozd. When Parviz gained power, he did to Banduy and Gostahm what he did. The heavens never rest from grinding. When his hand was strong, he took their lives. The door of vengeance cannot be taken lightly.

"This age will remind you soon enough. You will writhe with regret at your wicked thought. Whatever you sow, your son will reap. Beware of this treasure you have plundered, this blood-soaked crown and this wealth. You are bending your head to the command of a demon. You are cutting off the path of the Lord of the world. The thing that does not befit you -- do you not see that a demon is deceiving you? Do not burn the sapling of your heart in fire. Do not darken this world-illuminating crown.

"Gather your scattered army instead. Turn away from the words you have spoken. Go through that door in repentance before the king. When you see him, fashion a new act of service. And from that place, prepare for war against the enemy. Do not rest from strategy and from supplication -- for by this evil mark you will lose both worlds, if you do not heed the words of the wise.

"The task that must be done today -- if it slips to tomorrow, others will raise a storm from it. You wish worse for Yazdegerd the king of kings than for the Turkish enemy who attacks him. He is a lion in battle and a king upon his throne, shining like the radiant moon. He is the last memorial of the Sasanians -- none like him will ever gird the belt again. Father upon father, just and receptive to wisdom, from Nushin-Ravan the king to Ardeshir. Ardeshir is his forefather eight generations back -- Sasan the world-holder, just and glorious, upon whom God placed the crown of kings, and all of whose royal line were of noble seed.

"There have been many rulers like you in the provinces. None of them ever made such a decision. Consider Bahram Chubin: three hundred thousand men with reins in hand, armored riders on armored horses -- at a single arrow from the king, they all turned their backs and left the battlefield to him. When he grew weary of the counsel of kings, the head of his bright fortune was brought low. And Farayin, who sought the throne of greatness without deserving it -- he washed his hands for evil. He was killed in that manner, wretched and despised. Do not squander this time recklessly.

"Fear the God who created the world, who made throne and crown and signet ring. Do not make yourself notorious for nothing. They will bring this matter to a head upon you soon enough. Anyone who does not speak truth to you -- know that he is the enemy of your life. You are ill now, and we are like physicians -- physicians who weep with bloodied tears. You are less than a slave of slaves. Do not make yourself a lord by the fancy of your mind. You are storing up enmity against pure God. You seek the throne of kings by the path of folly."

The shepherd's son had a heart full of the throne. The counsel of those priests was bitter to him. So it has always been, and this is nothing new -- the workings of time are beyond measure. It raises one to the high heavens and makes another wretched, low, and wasted. It has no kinship with the first nor enmity with the second. Who has ever known the secret of the Creator?

All the priests, until the world grew dark and the moon sat in place of the sun, spoke in this manner to the vengeance-seeker. But he did not incline a single hair toward their words.

When night fell, Mahouy said to the priests, "You must go now, O wise ones. Tonight I will turn this over with my son. I will bring wisdom to bear from every side. We will summon twenty learned men from the army, so that there will be no cause for weeping over this."

The wise men departed from his presence. A priest from his own army came in.

When Mahouy sat with those he trusted, he said, "What is your counsel in this matter? If Yazdegerd remains alive, armies will gather around him from every direction. My secret has been laid bare in the world. All have heard it, low and high. Evil will come to me from him -- I will lose my life, and neither body nor land nor home will remain."

A wise man answered: "This should never have been begun in the first place. If the king of Iran becomes your enemy, harm will surely come to you. But if you spill his blood with your own hand -- his avenger in this world is God Himself. Left and right, there is nothing but pain and sorrow and grief. Now look at what must be done."

His son said, "Father of blessed counsel -- when you make an enemy, clear him from your path. Armies will come to his aid from China and more China. The earth will grow narrow upon us. Do not treat this as a small matter. When you have the upper hand, seize the desire of men. If they make even a banner from his garment's hem, they will uproot you and your army from your foundations."

When Mahouy the lawless heard the words his son had spoken, he said to the miller: "Rise. Take horsemen and spill the enemy's blood."

When the miller heard these words, he could see neither beginning nor end to this business. On the night of the day of Niran in the month of Khordad, the miller went toward the king.

When he left Mahouy's court, his eyes were full of tears and his heart full of blood. Mahouy sent riders at once, after the miller, swift as smoke. He commanded that the crown and the earrings, the signet ring and the royal garments must not be covered in blood -- they must strip the king's clothes from his body before the act.

The miller went with his eyes full of tears, his cheeks yellow as the setting sun. He kept saying, "O luminous Creator, You are higher than the turning of the age. For this hateful command of his, twist his body and soul this very moment."

He came before the king, full of shame and dread, his cheeks wet, his mouth like dust. He drew close, pressed near as though to whisper a secret in his ear --

And drove a dagger into the king's side.

A sigh escaped from the king at the wound. His head and his crown fell to the earth, the dried-curd bread still before him.

If anyone could find a way out of this world and chose to stay, he would have no wisdom in him. The seven spinning spheres grow weary of those they have nurtured. Yazdegerd was slain, guiltless. In this manner a crowned king died -- a king from whose army not a single rider had turned away in his defense.

There is no reason to the turning of the heavens. Pain and anger cannot be told apart from favor. It would be better never to see this world at all, and to hold neither love nor hatred for its workings.

Mahouy's ill-fated horsemen saw that the royal tree had come to rest from both the throne and the battlefield. Each one went and looked upon his face. They unfastened the clasps of his purple coat, the crown, the torque, and the golden shoes. The body of the king of Iran lay cast upon the earth, covered in blood, his side torn open by the sword.

They rose from before the king and readied their tongues for cursing: "May Mahouy's body lie like this, covered in blood, cast upon the ground."

They went quickly to Mahouy, carrying the armband and the unpolished gems. They told Mahouy, "That king has departed from rest and from war."

He commanded that at the hour of sleep, they should cast him from the mill into the water.

Two merciless servants went swiftly and dragged the blood-soaked body of the king. They did not know the worth of the one they had slain. They threw him into the whirlpool of Zarq.

When night turned to day and people appeared, two men of worth arrived at that place. One of the mourners -- a devout man -- came to the bank of the stream. He saw the body, naked, in the water. He was shaken, and hurried off at once.

He went to the door of a Christian monastery. He told the monks what he had seen: "The king of the age is drowning. He is naked in the whirlpool of Zarq."