Chapter 400. Rohham vs. Barman.

Riding out to cheers, Rohham, too, went for the arrows first. But Barman was an experienced warrior and horseman, and he dodged the arrows and returned several more of his own. Soon the warriors came to blows at close quarters.

This one was not so fast, with both men giving and taking many wounds. But, as they grew tired, Rohham took a second page out of Foruhal’s book and hit Barman in the thigh.

That dismounted his opponent, but it didn’t kill him. A split second later, and Barman was running away.

Rohham stopped for a moment, shocked at the dishonour of his opponent. Then he rode after him and stabbed Barman in the back as he fled.

“Rohham! Rohham!” cheered the Persians. “Honour! Honour!”

“Honour,” echoed Rohham, and then, in a bit of impromptu showmanship, he dipped his hand in his fallen enemy’s blood and wiped it all over his face.

“What did you do that for?” whispered his team, as he rode back in triumph.

“For Siyavash,” he bragged.

“You rubbed a random guy’s blood on your face, for Siyavash?”

“Don’t question a champion,” said Rohham loftily.

Chapter 399. Foruhal vs. Zanguleh.

Realizing that he had neither notable skills nor name recognition, when Foruhal’s turn came, he elected to keep his distance and just shoot arrows. 

It would not have gone down well at the beginning; arrows were all very well, but real warriors were generally expected to grapple and bash. However, the crowd had seen plenty of that in the previous rounds, and this was a bit of a change.

They cheered quite loudly when one of Foruhal’s arrows hit Zanguleh in the thigh, and then even louder when it went all the way through the thigh and stuck the horse, who reared up and threw Zanguleh, who broke his neck.

Hardly believing his luck, Foruhal poked his fallen opponent, then decapitated him just to make sure. It wasn’t the best round thus far, from a sporting point of view, but a win was a win.

Chapter 398. Guraza vs. Siyamak.

Guraza and Siyamak, realizing that that was a hard act to follow, opted to increase the spectacle value by screaming and cussing at each other at the top of their lungs. That tactic quickly cost both of them their voices. 

Each broke a mace over the other’s head, but then Guraza, seeing an opening, punched Siyamak in the face. The Turanian fell off his horse, and by good luck, he broke his neck.

Guraza collected the corpse, and his horse, to the delight of the Persian crowd. The score was now three-zero.

Chapter 395. Twenty-two Men.

Early the next morning, the two generals rode out for the coin toss and various last-minute clarifications about the rules.

“Gudarz, just listen to me for once,” said Piran. “This combat by champion needs to be decisive, or it’s even more pointless than a battle. Whoever wins, wins. Don’t slaughter my men afterwards, and I swear I won’t slaughter yours.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Gudarz. “I’m sure I can trust you. The same way Siyavash trusted you.”

“That’s a low blow,” growled Piran.

“Why didn’t you accept my deal earlier?” needled Gudarz.

“Because it wasn’t a deal.”

“Then you can fight me.”

“I will,” said Piran calmly. He gripped his spear just a little tighter. “Champions! Ride out!”

Ten Turanian champions broke out of the ranks, coming face to face with the chosen ten Persian champions.

“So do we draw lots, or?” asked Piran.

“Let’s set up decent matches,” said Gudarz. “You vs. me at the end, that’s a given.”

“Agreed. My first up is my brother Golbad.”

“Against him, Prince Fariborz.”

“After him, Gorui, killer of Siyavash. I thought you killed him several wars ago, but I guess it was never specified and we found him in the couch cushions.” Piran gestured at him. They wanted to kill everyone responsible for Siyavash’s death, after all; they’d been very clear on that point. And he didn’t like the man either, so it was win-win.

“Fuck that guy!” yelled Giv. “I’m taking him!”

After that, a few relative nobodies were lined up: Guraza vs. some guy called Siyamak, and the complete unknowns Foruhal (Persian) vs. Zanguleh (Turanian). Interest among the spectators picked up slightly when Rohham and Barman were faced off, and then a great deal more when Bizhan stepped up to be matched with Ruin (who’d received a very stern lecture from his father about running away the night before). Hejir and the dependable, but not flashy Sepahram were a slight letdown after that. Zangeh and Gorgin, who had decided his old age could still accommodate one more great deed, were a bit disappointed to get Akhvast and Andariman.

“At least Andariman’s made a bit of a showing in this war,” muttered Zangeh. “Akhvast is either some complete nobody, or, if he’s the guy from Pashang’s war, super old.”

“Who are you calling old?” said Gorgin indignantly. In the background, Barta of ‘Who’s Barta’ fame was being matched up with someone whose nametag read “Kuhram.”

“And lastly,” said Piran, deftly skirting away from the anticlimax. “The generals themselves. Us.”

“Us,” agreed Gudarz ominously.

New addition to the FID's stock: ‘Firdawsī und der autochthone Diskurs : autorenbezogene und textbezogene Untersuchungen zum Šāhnāmah’ from the series ‘Hallesche Beiträge zur Orientwissenschaft’

https://halit.bibliothek.uni-halle.de/search?q=id:1931797846&l=menasearch

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