But the champion, brandishing his mighty club, replied fearlessly:
“Vain Boaster, flee, for behold, my club maketh mothers childless!”
Howbeit, Rustem fled not. Instead, he advanced quickly, shouting in a voice which rivalled that of the Great White Deev:
“Tremble, thou Son of Perdition! For behold, thou hast now to do with Rustem the Mighty!”
Now when the magician heard this dread name, at once he turned to flee, for he had no desire to fight the champion of the world. But his cowardice availed him naught, for Rustem, raising his lance, pierced him through and through his coat of mail, lifting him thus from his saddle. Then holding him poised in the air for a moment, even as a bird which a man hath run through with a spit, suddenly he dashed him with contempt lifeless to the ground. And, this being done, slowly he turned, and rode quietly back unto the army, leaving the Deevs thunderstruck at the sight of so much strength and prowess.
But now Kaikous gave the signal, and there began a battle the like of which hath seldom been fought. For seven long days it lasted, and what with the screams of the Deevs and the shouts of the warriors, the clanging of trumpets and the beating of drums, the groans of the dying and the screams of the elephants-of-war, earth was turned into a pandemonium as hideous as war could make it. But still victory leaned unto neither side.
Then Kaikous, fearing defeat, on the eighth day clothed himself in the robes of humility and prostrated himself before Ormuzd, beseeching that the kingdom of light might triumph over the kingdom of darkness. And not in vain; for behold! when evening was come, the army of Mazinderan was a power no longer to be dreaded. For lo! Death had waved his magic sceptre over the field, and thousands of Deevs lay, as if enchanted, taking their last long sleep.
And now at last Rustem, who all day had been trying to pierce unto the King of Mazinderan, spied the monarch, surrounded by his few remaining chiefs and a great host of war-elephants. Immediately, therefore, he challenged him to single combat. So the King consenting, with a cry like a lion’s roar, Rustem charged him with his spear, dealing him such a mighty blow that at once he fell heavily to the ground. Quick as light, however, he regained his feet, and fiercely they fought together, both with sword and javelin. But presently once more Rustem gained the advantage. Then raising his lance to strike, he cried:
“Perish, Thou Wicked Magician! for little will thy sorcery help thee now.”
Then it came to pass that Rustem dealt a stroke of tremendous power which would certainly have slain the King; but behold, in the twinkling of an eye, he had changed himself, before the eyes of the whole Persian army, into a great mass of rock! And now was it Rustem’s turn to marvel, for never in all his battles with the Deevs had he witnessed the like. But at this moment Kaikous came up, and beholding Rustem, he said: