Ardashir and Golnar

After Eskandar, the poem says, two hundred years passed in which there seemed to be no king of kings. Princes of the line of Arash each held a corner of the land, and people called them the tribal kings. The greatest was Ardavan, who ruled from Shiraz to Isfahan, and under him Babak governed Estakhr. Of the rest, Ferdowsi admits, he has heard nothing but their names.

When Dara was killed his son Sasan fled to Hindustan and died there poor. For four generations every father named his son Sasan, and they worked as camel-drivers and shepherds. The last of them asked Babak's chief herdsman for work and rose to be chief shepherd himself. Then Babak dreamed two dreams. In the first, Sasan rode a fierce elephant with an Indian sword in his hand, and all who came near bowed to him. The next night a fire-priest carried three blazing fires before Sasan, Azar Goshasp, Kharrad and Mehr, burning aloe-wood. The dream-readers said that this man, or his son, would rule the world.

Babak sent for the shepherd on a snowy day. Shivering in his blanket, Sasan would speak only after Babak promised him safety, and then said he was descended from Bahman, son of Esfandiyar. Babak wept, sent him to the bath, dressed him as a nobleman and gave him his daughter. Their son was Ardashir.

The onager

Word of the brilliant boy reached Ardavan, who called him to his court at Rey. Out hunting one day, Ardashir shot an onager clean through, and one of Ardavan's sons claimed the kill. "The plain is wide," Ardashir said, "and there are onagers and arrows enough. Shoot another the same way. It is a sin for noble men to lie." Ardavan, angry that a dependant should outshine his sons, sent him to look after the horses in the royal stables.

Ardavan's palace held a favourite named Golnar, who kept his treasure and whom he loved more than life. From the roof she saw Ardashir smiling below and lost her heart. That night she tied a lasso to the battlements, climbed down and woke him. Then Babak died, and Ardavan gave Pars to his eldest son. Soon after, the king's astrologers worked for three days in Golnar's house, and she heard their verdict: one of the king's own men would soon flee from him and become a mighty king.

The ram

Ardashir took the king's grey and black horses, Golnar brought jewels from the treasury, and they rode for Pars. In the morning Ardavan missed her at his pillow and gave chase. Villagers told him two riders had passed, with a mountain ram behind them kicking up the dust like a horse. "That ram is his farr," said Ardavan's minister, meaning the royal glory that lifts a man to kingship. "If it reaches him, this business will go on for a long time." At a pool two young men warned the fugitives not to stop: they had escaped the dragon's jaws, and a drink now could cost them their lives. By the next town the ram was running with Ardashir, and the minister advised turning back to raise an army.

Ardashir reached the sea, and men of Babak's house and of Dara's line flocked to him. Sabak of Jahrom and his seven sons swore loyalty on the Avesta, and together they beat Ardavan's son Bahman and chased him back to Estakhr. Ardavan brought his army and they fought for forty days, until a black storm broke his men. One Kharrad caught his bridle and led him to Ardashir, who had him cut in two. Sabak washed the body and built him a royal tomb. On Sabak's advice Ardashir married Ardavan's daughter, went home to Pars and built a city of palaces and gardens with a fire temple, which the poem's old dehqan (country squire and keeper of the old stories) calls Khorreh-ye Ardashir, and which the border lord called Gur.