Rustem the Spy

Behold! on the morning following the reconciling feast of Kaikous and

Rustem, the Shah caused the clarions of war to be sounded throughout the

city, calling the loyal sons of Iran to go forth to meet the Tartar

host. Now over one hundred thousand horsemen in glittering mail

responded unto the call, so that the earth was covered with warriors

like unto blades of grass, and all the air was darkened with their

spears. A troop of ponderous war-elephants also accompanied the legions,

making the ground tremble beneath their mighty tread.

Thus marched the army, and so imposing was it that when at evening they

pitched their tents, and the torches gleamed in the canvas streets, the

camp seemed like unto a great city. So, marching by day and resting at

night, the legions finally drew near unto the White Castle, where Sohrab

still remained, preparing his forces for an advance upon the capital.

When they were come unto the plains where stood the great fortress,

however, they set up their tents silently in the dead of night, planning

a surprise for the Tartars.

Now thus it happened that, the black veil of night being lifted, behold,

the watchman upon the high towers of the White Fortress saw spread out

on the plains before him an immense white city, set up as by magic.

Surprised and dismayed, therefore, he set up a great shout, which at

once brought Sohrab and Human, the two great Tartar chiefs, out upon the

ramparts.

And behold! when Human saw upon every side the mighty Persian legions,

looking so brave and formidable, he grew suddenly pale, and trembled

like unto an aspen. But Sohrab, demanding a cup of wine, drank unto

their destruction, speaking words of cheer unto his companion. And he

said:

“Look, Brave Human! There are many men in this hostile army, it is true,

but within its ranks I see no hero with mighty mace who can stand

against the fearless son of Rustem. When that mighty champion himself

appeareth, then will it be time indeed for us to rally our courage. But

as for these others—why, they are but dogs! And see, I spit upon them!

for without Rustem to inspire them, they have neither courage nor

heart.”

So saying, Sohrab went down from the ramparts, and proceeding unto his

pavilion, which was pitched upon the plain in front of the Fort, he

invited his great warriors and chiefs unto a banquet. Yea, gayly he

issued his invitations, saying unto his guests:

“To-day let us feast; let us banquet to-day,

For to-morrow to battle we’ll hasten away.”

But behold! at Sohrab’s banquet there was to be one uninvited guest. For

when night had swathed the earth in darkness, Rustem the Mighty went

boldly unto the King, demanding permission to go forth unarmed to spy

out the forces of the enemy, and to learn the character of the

chieftains opposed unto him—particularly of Sohrab, whose renown had

aroused such dread in the heart of Kaikous.

So, permission being granted, the dauntless Rustem clad himself in the

dress of a Tartar, and thus disguised, under the cover of darkness, he

stole forth like a lion which stalketh a herd of antelopes, penetrating

into the very presence of the great Sohrab and his warriors as they sat

at their feast. Now so stealthy had been his advance that none dreamed

of his presence as they feasted and made merry around the festal

board—nay, not even the valiant Sohrab, as he sat relating unto his

warriors some of the mighty deeds of the heroes of old.

Wherefore, as Rustem stood by the door watching, he beheld that the

young Champion was like unto a tall cypress of good sap, while round

about him were seated more than a hundred brave warriors, scarcely

equalled in the Persian army—so fiery and courageous appeared they as

they listened unto the inspiring tales of Sohrab. And it was indeed a

festive scene! For torches gave back the flash of arms, and the gleam of

eyes eager for the morrow’s battle, even as they were now bright with

the red wine which slaves poured from golden bugles into the crystal

glasses before them. And behold, not only was there glorious fare to

delight the palate, but music to charm the ear! So gayety and merriment

ruled the hour; neither did they dream of coming sorrow.

But as Rustem watched the scene from the shadow of the door, presently

it came to pass that Zendeh, one of the warriors, having occasion to go

forth, came nigh unto the spot where the Hero was concealed. Now Zendeh

was brother unto the Princess Tamineh, who had sent him forth with her

son that he might point out unto him his father, whom he alone knew of

all the army. And the Princess did this that harm might not befall

should the two champions meet in battle. But alas! as Zendeh retired

from the banquet, it chanced that he perceived the shadow of some one in

ambush. So, advancing unto the place where Rustem was hidden, he said

quietly:

“Vile Persian! Come forth into the light that I may see thy face. For

well I know, by thy stature, that thou belongest unto Iran.”

Now unto this Rustem answered never a word. But ere Zendeh had ceased

from speaking, he struck him so fierce a blow upon the nape of the neck

that he laid him dead at his feet. So, though there was to be no more

feasting and fighting for Zendeh, yet so swift and silent had been

Death’s messenger, that the revellers within dreamed not that the Dark

Angel still hovered at the door.

But presently Sohrab, beholding his uncle’s place at the table still

vacant, asked wherefore he tarried; and, attention being thus called to

his long absence, one of the chiefs went forth to seek him. Now in so

doing he found the body of the unfortunate warrior cold upon the

pavement. Quickly returning unto Sohrab, therefore, he related unto him

in an awed voice the fatal happening. But Sohrab would not believe that,

almost within their midst, without a struggle or cry, death could have

so suddenly o’ertaken his uncle. So, commanding that torches be brought,

he ran quickly unto the spot of the tragedy, followed by all the

warriors and bright singing-girls. But alas! here Sohrab found that the

bad news was indeed true; and being sore grieved, he said unto his

nobles:

“Woe! Woe unto Turan! For behold! the wolf hath stolen into the fold

and, in spite of the shepherds and the dogs, hath taken the best of the

flock. But verily, God helping me, I will be fully avenged for the death

of Zendeh!”

Now having thus spoken, Sohrab came back unto his place at the table and

continued the feast. For, though his own heart was heavy with sorrow, he

wished not the spirits of his warriors to be dampened by pity, or fear

of this terrible, silent, unknown foe. Raising his glass unto his lips,

therefore, he cried lustily:

“Drink, my brave comrades, drink! Death to the slayer of Zendeh, and

destruction, utter and sure, unto the Persian host.”

So the warriors and chiefs all drank, standing upon their feet; and as

the hours passed by, Sohrab continued to fan into a yet more glowing

flame the lust of battle which slumbered in each warrior’s soul, so that

finally one and all desired naught but death unto the Persians, and a

glorious victory for Sohrab, their gallant young leader, whom they

toasted with such mighty shouts of pride and joy that it was heard even

within the lines of Iran.

As for Rustem, having accomplished his purpose, after silencing Zendeh,

he returned quickly and silently unto the Persian camp, knowing not that

his victim was the loved brother of Tamineh, who was to have stood

between Sohrab and his fate.

But behold, as Rustem would have entered the Persian lines he

encountered Gew, who was acting that night as sentry. Now as this

doughty warrior suddenly perceived—looming up mountain-high out of the

darkness—a warrior clad in the garb of a Tartar, his heart quaked with

fear, for he thought that surely he had to do with Sohrab, the terrible

Tartar Champion. Nevertheless, he quickly drew his sword ready for

combat, challenging the invader to give his name and errand.

Now this demand was greeted by a burst of mighty laughter, for Rustem,

surmising from the quaver in Gew’s voice what his thought had been,

could not but enjoy the situation. Still laughing, therefore, he said

unto Gew:

“Brave comrade! tremble not so. For lo! thou beholdest before thee a

most harmless creature—Rustem the Spy—who returneth from the banquet of

Sohrab and his chiefs. Now Sohrab presenteth his compliments unto Gew,

the brave warrior of the Persians, saying that he will be unable to meet

him until to-morrow, when he will hurl forth unto him his challenge to

combat.”

So spake the Mighty Rustem unto Gew, twitting him yet again upon his

lion’s roar and his great disappointment at being deprived of his

much-longed-for combat with Sohrab. Then when they had laughed together,

Rustem described unto Gew his adventure, ceasing not to sing the praise

of Sohrab, who, he said, had not his equal in the world.

Whereupon, having thus spoken, the Great Champion said good-night unto

his comrade, bidding him roar gently in case of danger. And so with

merry jest ended the adventure of Rustem the Spy.