When the catastrophic news of the innocent Prince Siyavash's execution reached Iran, darkness enveloped the realm of the Kianians. The King of Turan had commanded the pure-hearted prince to be slaughtered like a wild bird, spilling his sacred blood into a golden bowl. With his martyrdom, all joy vanished from the earth: the nightingale wept upon the cypress branch, the pomegranate leaves in the thickets turned a sickly yellow, and cries of bitter mourning echoed across every mountain range, for there was no succor nor any to plead his cause.
When King Kay Kavus heard these terrible tidings, his exalted head fell low from his throne. He tore his royal garments, lacerated his cheeks with his nails, and collapsed from his high seat onto the bare dark earth. The mighty champions of Iran—Tus, Goudarz, Giv, Shapur, Farhad, and Rohham—clad themselves in robes of indigo and black, casting dust upon their heads instead of their helm-caps. Their eyes ran red with tears of blood, and the name of Siyavash never left their lips.
The news traveled swiftly to Nimruz, reaching the glorious realm of Zabulistan where Rostam the Elephant-Bodied and his wise father Zal resided. When Rostam learned of the tragedy, his senses fled him, and a wail of utter anguish echoed throughout Zabulistan. Zal tore at his own cheeks with his claws and poured earth upon his white hair and beard. For a full week, the house of Sam remained plunged in sorrow, but on the eighth day, the trumpet of war sounded. Rostam assembled a vast host of warriors from Kashmir and Kabul, heading toward the court of Kavus with eyes brimming with tears and a heart burning for vengeance.
As the mighty Rostam drew near the royal city of Iran, he tore his heroic robes in grief. He swore a solemn oath before the Almighty Creator that never again would he leave his body unarmed, never again wash the dust from his hair, that his helmet and sword should be his wine-cup, and the coils of his lasso his constant companion. He entered the presence of Kay Kavus with dust upon his head and feet, shouting in rage: 'O ill-natured monarch! The evil seed you sowed has now yielded its bitter harvest! Your infatuation with the treacherous Sudabeh and your foolish disposition have stripped the royal crown from your head. Now see how you sit upon the surging waves of a sea of blood! Through your meager wisdom and grand arrogance, a supreme disaster has befallen us all. Better for a ruler of men to wear a shroud than to obey the whims of a woman! Siyavash was destroyed by a woman's deceit—alas for his noble stature, his royal grace, and his horse-riding, the likes of which the world shall never see again!'
King Kay Kavus looked upon the face of Rostam, seeing his blood-stained tears and his deep love for Siyavash. Overwhelmed by shame, the monarch could offer no reply; warm tears simply poured from his eyes. Rostam turned away from the throne and marched straight toward Sudabeh's quarters. Pushing aside the royal drapes, he seized her by her tresses, dragging her screaming from her exalted throne to the dust. Drawing his dagger, he cleaved the villainous queen in two right in the middle of the hallway, while King Kay Kavus sat paralyzed, unable to move or utter a word.
Having purged the land of Sudabeh's treachery, Rostam returned to the court with a heart full of blood and a sallow face. All of Iran fell into deep mourning and gathered around the hero. For seven days they sat outside the royal gates in fury and tears. On the eighth day, the bronze war-horns and drums resounded. Goudarz, Tus, Farhad, Shidosh, Gurgin, Giv, Bahram, Rohham, Shapur, Fariburz, and Rostam's brave son Faramarz gathered under the Kavian Banner, ready to march upon Turan and exact a bloody vengeance.