The host reposed two days, but when the sun
Rose on the third the Sháh was forced to fight.
Then like a foaming sea Afrásiyáb;
Dashed at the army of Naudar, the war-cry
Rose from the camp-enclosures mid the din
Of trump and Indian bell, the tymbals sounded
Before the Sháh's tent, and the warriors donned
Their iron helmets. None had thought of sleep
Within the camp of great Afrásiyáb;

All night they had made ready, sharpening
The swords and double-headed darts. The earth
Was filled by armoured men with heavy maces.
Káran was marshal of the central host
Whereto the Sháh and he were towers of strength.
The Sháh's left wing the hero Talímán
Claimed for himself, and bold Shápúr the right.
From morning till the sun had left the dome,
Hills, plains, and wastes were indistinguishable;
Thou wouldst have said: “The sword's heart is en­larged
And earth is groaning underneath the steeds.”
But while the javelins put the earth in shade
Defeat drew ever nearer to Naudar,
And as his fortunes sank the Turkmans' rose.
Upon the side where bold Shápúr was stationed
The ranks were broken and the troops dispersed,
But he maintained his post till he was slain.
The Íránians' fortune turned away its head,
And many another chieftain of the host
Was killed or wounded on the battlefield.
Now when the monarch and Káran perceived
The stars averse, they fled before the foe
To Dahistán, and there maintained themselves,
Cut off from all outside it. Night and day
They fought in the approaches. Passed a while.
Now since Naudar had refuged in the hold,
Where horsemen could not act, Afrásiyáb
Made ready and despatched a force by night,
Bethought him of the chieftain Kurúkhán,
Of Wísa's race, and bade him lead them forth
Along the desert-route to Párs, for there
The Íránians' homes were situate, and men
In trouble make for home. Káran heard this
And, moved with jealousy and grieved at heart,
Went in as 'twere a leopard to Naudar
And said: “Behold how base Afrásiyáb
Is dealing with the monarch of Írán!
He hath despatched a countless host of troops
Against our warriors' women. Should he get them
Disaster will befall our men of name
And we shall hide our faces in disgrace;
So Kurúkhán must be attacked forthwith,
And by the leave of the victorious Sháh
I will pursue with speed. Thou hast a river,
Provisions, and right zealous warriors.
Stay thou; be not concerned. Thou canst defend
Thyself with ease, so play the lion's part,
For monarchs should be brave.”

Naudar replied:—

“Not so, the host hath none like thee to lead them.
'Twas for our homes that Tús and Gustaham
Went forth at beat of drum, and they will reach
The women in good time, such is their speed,
And take the needful steps.”

The mighty men

Went to the sleeping-chamber of the Sháh

Where presently they sat and called for wine
To purge their hearts of sorrow for a while.
When Sháh Naudar was well bemused he went
Behind his curtains, meditating vengeance,
And those brave chiefs—the Íránian cavaliers—
Departed in disorder from the court
To assemble at the quarters of Káran,
With eyes like winter-clouds; with much debate,
They all agreed: “We must set out for Párs
Forthwith or else our wives and little ones
Will all be broken-hearted slaves, all captured
Without a struggle, and who then will wield
The spear upon the plain or rest in peace?”
Now when these three—Shídúsh, Kishwád, Káran—
Had taken counsel for the whole emprise,
And half the night had passed, they made them ready
To sally forth. At dawn with heavy hearts
They reached what men in those days called “White Castle.”* There found they Guzhdaham the castellan
Together with his watchful warriors
Beleaguered by Bármán, who held the road
With troops and elephants and valiant chiefs,
And erst had wrung the heart of brave Káran
Who, eager to avenge his brother's blood,
Assumed his mail, prepared his men for action,
And made for Párs. The brave Bármán was ware
And like a lion met him on the way.
Now when Káran saw mid the dust of fight
That man of blood he grappled with his foe,
All lion-like, not giving time for ruse,
But closed at once, invoking God for succour,
And pierced the Turkman's girdle with a javelin
Through mail and buckle. From his charger's back
Bármán fell headlong, the bright orb of day
Turned dark to him, his army's heart was broken,
His soldiers fled. Káran the chieftain then
Went on toward Párs with all his valiant men.