Sohrab and the Warrior Maiden

Behold! among the many legends of Sohrab, the son of Rustem, it is

chronicled that with no one was he a greater favorite than with the

famous Tartar general, old Piran-Wisa. And his interest in the child

manifested itself in a practical way, for whenever he came unto

Samengan, he put the lad through military exercises, teaching him thus

the tactics of war.

Now at the time when Sohrab learned of his lineage the Kurds and Tartars

were carrying on a fierce war against the Persians, and so eager was he

now to acquire experience in battle, that finally he persuaded

Piran-Wisa to secure him a command in the army of Afrasiab. And this was

not difficult of accomplishment, for already had the fame of the great

strength, and skill, and bravery of Sohrab pierced unto the ears of the

King, who gladly accepted his services, scenting in him a mighty

champion, later on, for his army.

So, having received his commission, Sohrab knelt before his grandfather,

the King of Samengan, promising to keep untarnished the sword and shield

which that monarch had presented unto his grandson, as his first gift of

manhood. And the King blessed the youth, giving unto him also the

noblest charger in the royal stables. Then Tamineh buckled on his sword,

and bound about his wrist the amulet of the house of Zal, speaking

naught but brave words unto her son. And so, proud and happy, they sent

him forth.

After this, it is recorded that brave Sohrab fought in many battles,

conducting himself with so much wisdom and valor that all men spake his

praise. But notwithstanding his victories and growing fame, the youth

was not content. For, in the thick of battle, as in his quiet hours of

dreaming, one great wish ever possessed his soul—to meet his father, the

Mighty Rustem, face to face, and win his word of praise.

So, pondering ever his great desire, Sohrab knew no peace until finally

he decided to go in search of his father; and having arrived at this

decision, straightway he sought out his grandsire, beseeching his

counsel and aid. Now the King of Samengan, rejoicing in the courage and

prowess of Sohrab, having listened unto his desire, quickly opened unto

him the doors of his treasury, pouring forth gold without stint, for he

loved the boy tenderly. And as a sign of his good pleasure, he also, at

this time, invested his grandson with all the honors of a King.

As for Tamineh, beholding that her son’s charger now quivered beneath

his weight, quickly she commanded the guardians of the herd that they

lead forth all the royal horses before Sohrab that he might choose him a

war-steed worthy this glorious enterprise. But alas! one and all bowed

themselves beneath his weight, even as they had when tested by the

Mighty Rustem, when he chose his steed of battle. But presently there

came before Sohrab one who told of a beautiful foal—sprung from Rustem’s

glorious Rakush—clean-limbed, strong, and beautiful, which, having

tested, Sohrab declared perfect. In his joy, therefore, he cried out

gaily unto his mother:

“Fair Queen of the World! Behold, the brave sons of Rustem and of Rakush

crave thy blessing ere they go forth in search of laurels and a sunny

crown to grace thy glorious tresses—one of which thy hero craveth that

he may seem in truth to carry thee ever near his heart.”

Alas! Tamineh, as she gazed at her splendid son, longed neither for

laurels nor a crown, but only to joy in his glorious presence

forever—for such is the way of mothers. Nevertheless, meeting banter

with banter, graciously she allowed that one dark lock be severed from

her abundant tresses, and she smiled as she noted the admiration and

love exhibited by the nobles and warriors who flocked so gladly to

Sohrab’s standard. Yea, and deep in her heart she longed to be a youth

that she, too, might follow this glorious young leader, watching over

his safety in the capacity of devoted body-guard.

And well if this might have been! for, though Tamineh suspected it not,

on this expedition, much Sohrab was to need the offices of a wise,

devoted, and loyal companion, since he had enemies who, even as he

recruited his army, were plotting his destruction. Indeed yes, and of

these Afrasiab was the instigator, for upon hearing the news of Sohrab’s

intention, straightway he called unto him Human and Barman, two of his

most doughty chieftains, and said unto them:

“O my Pehliva, listen unto my voice, for verily I have a plan which

shall rid us of all our enemies. For behold! it is known unto me that

Sohrab is sprung from that great disturber of our progress, Rustem the

Mighty, who suspecteth not that he hath a son. It must be hidden from

him, therefore, who it is that cometh out against him, for these two

champions will surely meet in battle, and it may be that the young lion

will kill the old one. Now if that shall come to pass, behold, Iran,

devoid of Rustem, will fall an easy prey into our hands; and when that

shall have happened, it will be an easy matter to take Sohrab by

stratagem and slay him. If, on the other hand, however, Rustem should

slay his son, then would his heart be devoured with grief, so that he

would trouble his enemies no more.”

So spake Afrasiab unto his chiefs, and having poured out all his guile,

he bade them quickly gather together a great army to join the ranks of

Sohrab, and depart unto Samengan. And behold, they bare with them gifts

of great price to set before the face of Sohrab, and they carried unto

him also a letter from the King, filled with words of honey. And the

letter said:

“O Glorious Stripling, whose equal existeth not in all the world,

behold, the King laudeth thy valorous resolve to bring Iran unto thy

feet, and he sendeth unto thee a mighty army that right speedily Turan,

Iran and Samengan may be one land, and all the world at peace.”

So Sohrab, thus encouraged by the King, and unsuspicious of his guile,

caused the cymbals of departure to be sounded, and the army set forth

upon its tour of conquest. Now the track of this youthful conqueror was

marked by desolation and destruction, but behold, he marched on unstayed

until he was come unto the White Fortress, which was the key to the

heart of Persia.

Now the governor of this stronghold was Gustahem the brave, an old and

famous warrior, but now, alas, so feeble that he could assist in the

defence of the fort only by his counsel. He had under him, however, a

young captain, Hujir by name, who was known unto the enemy as a very

brave and powerful champion, so the White Castle was considered

impregnable. Believing themselves to be secure, therefore, when Hujir

beheld from afar a dark cloud of armed men, with gallant Sohrab at their

head, immediately he donned his armor and rushed forward to challenge

him, crying arrogantly:

“Halt, thou Stripling! for if thou venturest one step nearer, verily I

will lop off that towering head of thine, and give thy soft, baby flesh

unto yon hungry vultures for food.”

But behold! this fierce menace deterred not for a single second the

onward course of Sohrab, who, hesitating not, boldly charged the

champion, quickly o’ercoming him. For, though Hujir fought bravely, in

the hands of Rustem’s mighty son he was naught but an infant. Seeing

himself at the mercy of the invader, therefore, humbly the vanquished

hero begged for quarter, and Sohrab, who was young and tender of heart,

granted unto his adversary his life, binding him with cords and sending

him captive unto Human.

Howbeit, though successful in this encounter, Sohrab was to face another

adversary upon this eventful day—one powerful in a fashion of which he

dreamed not. For behold, it is chronicled that in the Fort there also

dwelt the lovely daughter of Gustahem, a war-like maid, skilled in

athletic sports, and famed for her exploits in many a battle. Now the

name of the maiden was Gurdafrid, and beholding the overthrow of Hujir,

her heart was filled with anger and shame.

So, filled with fury, quickly the warrior-maiden clothed herself in

burnished mail, hiding her glorious tresses under an iron helmet. Then,

mounting her fiery steed, she rode boldly forth from out the gates of

the White Castle, fiercely challenging the enemy to produce a champion

worthy to meet her in combat, that thus the fate of the Fort might be

decided.

But behold! none answered the challenge, for all thought that they gazed

upon a mighty warrior, not knowing that the burnished steel hid naught

but a woman with quickly-beating heart. Seeing that none of his warriors

desired to take up the challenge, therefore, once more gallant Sohrab

stepped gayly forth, crying:

“Methinks I see before me another wild ass for my lasso. Come forward,

Puny One, for verily Hujir is lonely in his captivity.”

Now having thus spoken, with a smile of exultation Sohrab rode forward

to his second encounter; and the maid, at his approach, let fly a storm

of arrows, attacking him first from one side, then from the other. Yea,

the missiles fell thick like hail, whizzing about the hero’s head so

that he could not defend himself, and behold, he was angry and ashamed,

for was not the whole army gazing upon his discomfiture?

Nevertheless, it was a pretty sight to watch the maid! For, as she

rapidly wheeled her horse from side to side, now retiring and now

advancing, smiting her shield with her spear to frighten the hero’s

horse, and raining her shower of arrows, verily she seemed the

personification of dexterity and skill, and it looked as if the

overthrow of Sohrab was at hand.

But, though for a time the contest was doubtful, the advantage was not

to be always upon the side of the maiden. For Sohrab, mortified and

enraged, advanced with fury, regarding not the arrows. But think not

that he dismayed Gurdafrid a whit! Nay, for when she saw him approach,

dexterously she threw her bow over her shoulder, put her spear in rest,

and galloped to meet him. Then Sohrab, drawing his spear back until the

point was almost level with his body, delivered it with all his force,

striking Gurdafrid upon the girdle. Now the force of the blow was so

great that it burst the fastenings of her coat of mail and hurled her

from her saddle like a ball struck by a racquet, and you would have said

that now the contest was ended. But not so, for, quick as a flash, the

maiden twisted herself under her saddle, drew a sword from out her

girdle, and cut Sohrab’s spear in half. Then, having performed this

feat, quickly she sprang again into her saddle and turned to go, for she

was weary from the fierceness of the combat, and she saw that the day

was hers.

But Sohrab, perceiving her intent, slackening the reins of his horse,

galloped after the fleeing one at full speed, and, having come up with

her, boldly grasped the helmet from her head; for he desired to look

upon the face of the hero who could thus withstand the son of Rustem.

Imagine his surprise, therefore, when from out the iron helm there

rolled coil upon coil of beautiful dusky hair! For this informed him

that his valiant adversary was no battle-tried warrior, but only a fair

young maid. Now confounded at this most astonishing discovery, Sohrab

cried:

“O Valiant One, truly thou confoundest me! For if all the daughters of

Iran are like unto thee, then not even the mightiest hero can conquer

thy land.”

But though overwhelmed with astonishment, Sohrab neglected not to make

captive his fair prisoner, though he dreamed not that as he bound her

with his lasso, even so was she snaring him with her bright eyes. For

continually he gazed at Gurdafrid with ever-increasing admiration, and

he said:

“O Moon of Beauty, I understand it not, but verily thy soft radiance

delighteth my heart more than thy brilliant splendor in battle. Seek not

to escape me, therefore, for surely never captive like unto thee hath

fallen into the hands of hero.”

Then Gurdafrid, beholding the spell which her beauty wrought in the

heart of the hero, turned unto him her fair face that was unveiled, for

she perceived no other means of safety. Nevertheless, she spake

derisively unto Sohrab, and she said:

“O Hero without Flaw! verily I envy thee not. For will not thy army

laugh and jibe when they learn that the brave Sohrab was all but

o’ercome by a woman? Let us hide this adventure, therefore, lest thy

cheek have cause to blush because of me; and let us conclude a peace

between us. For verily the Fort with all its soldiers and treasure now

belongeth unto thee; thou hast only to follow and take possession of

thine own.”

Alas! Sohrab was too young and ardent not to be affected by the beauty

and witchery of the maid, as well as by the fear of derision, so he was

easily beguiled into following his fair captive unto the Fort. And he

said:

“Verily, thou doest well to make peace with me, Fair Warrior-Maid, for

though the walls of thy fortress were as high as the vaults of heaven,

my club would easily level them unto the ground.”

Now so speaking, the gallant Sohrab and his captive came unto the

entrance of the Fort. And behold, Gustahem, when he saw their approach,

opened unto them the portal, and the warrior-maid stepped leisurely over

the threshold. But alas! when Sohrab would have followed after her, he

was not able, for the door had swung quickly to, leaving him upon the

outside. Then Sohrab knew that he had been duped, and his fury knew no

bounds. And—would you believe it?—as he yet lingered, overcome with

surprise and shame, lo, the beautiful warrior-maiden came out upon the

battlements, and there floated down unto the hero, from her smiling

lips, words of poison coated o’er with honey. And she said;

“Why, I wonder, doth the Mighty Lord of the Tartars—the Invincible

Sohrab—weary himself with waiting? Surely, since he cannot stand before

a mere woman, he will fall an easy prey unto the great Rustem, when the

Pehliva learneth that vile robbers from Turan have broken into the land,

hoping to subdue it unto black-hearted Afrasiab.”

So spake the triumphant maiden, and as the mocking words floated down

unto Sohrab, verily he raged with all the fury of a wild elephant. And

he cried:

“Treacherous One, well mayest thou mock! but I swear, by Ormuzd and all

the Peri of Paradise, that yet will I bring thee into subjection. And

upon that day, verily thou shalt pay dearly for thy guile and thy

double-faced words.”

But the maiden, beholding how the Hero raged, laughed tormentingly,

giving no heed unto his words. Then, leaning far over the battlements,

so that her bewitching face was once more plainly visible to the

discomfited Sohrab, again she mocked. And she said:

“Such noble stature! Such arms, and such a chest! What a pity that it

should become food for jackals! Such strength, and such softness of

heart! And yet, I fear me the stupid cow will soon be ruminating upon

the grass which covers thy grave. Ah, woe is me!”

Now Sohrab was covered with shame that he must hear such derisive words.

Nevertheless, the dauntless spirit of the maiden delighted him, while

the soft, mocking lips, the fair, flushed cheeks, and the laughing, dark

eyes exercised a strange fascination over him, causing his heart to beat

with more than shame and anger. Realizing, however, that he could not

hope to compete with his fair adversary in a battle of words, he now

replied proudly unto her:

“Fair Mocker! I go; but if the Fort be not surrendered by dawn

to-morrow, then shall it be levelled to the dust!”

And, having thus hurled at the Warrior-maid this telling bomb, the hero

gave rein unto his horse, and galloped back unto the army, followed by

the sweet, mocking laugh of Gurdafrid, which rang in his ears like

beautiful, tantalizing music.

True to his word, however, at dawn Sohrab marched with his army against

the Fort. But as they drew near they beheld not a single soldier upon

the walls, and upon advancing unto the gates, they were found to be

open, while there remained not a single armed man in the place. You see,

the truth was that the governor of the Fort, well knowing the fate that

awaited them if they tarried until Sohrab stormed its walls, had escaped

with all his people, in the darkness of the night, by a secret passage

known only unto the Persians.

So thus was Sohrab again outwitted, and thus also vanished the

Warrior-maid, so beautiful and so brave, from the sight and grasp of the

bold eaglet who had flown so gayly and confidently forth from the

heights of Samengan to conquer the world.