When Gev the champion crossed the borders of Turan and set foot upon the sacred soil of Iran alongside Kai Khosrow, a thrill of joy and wonder swept across the realm. Gev swiftly dispatched a clear-minded courier with letters of glad tidings—one to his venerable father, Gudarz son of Kashvad, in Isfahan, and another to the imperial court of King Kay Kavus. Upon receiving the messenger, Gudarz placed the royal letter upon his head, wept tears of deep grief for the murdered Prince Siyavash, and cursed the tyranny of Afrasiab. He immediately adorned his lofty palace with royal brocades, erected a throne wrought of gold and embedded with jewels, and rode eighty leagues forth to welcome the young prince. When Gudarz beheld Kai Khosrow riding alongside Gev, he dismounted in reverence, kissed the earth beneath the prince's stirrups, and hailed him as the living mirror of Siyavash. The noble chieftains of Iran bowed their faces to the dust, returning with them to Isfahan for seven days of glorious feasting and revelry.
Thereafter, the entire host set out for the capital of King Kay Kavus. Cities along their path were transformed into realms of splendor—adorned with saffron, rosewater, gold, and musk, while minstrel song echoed through the streets. When Kay Kavus laid eyes upon his grandson Kai Khosrow, tears of solemn remembrance spilled down his cheeks. He embraced the youth, kissed his eyes, and placed him beside himself on the throne. Kai Khosrow recounted his years in Turan, telling of Afrasiab's cruel suspicion, the noble intercession of Piran, and above all, the superhuman valor of Gev—who had bound Piran, defied entire Turanian hosts, and plunged into the raging torrents of the Oxus River without a boat, guided only by the Royal Glory (Far-e Kiyani), to bring him safely home.
Yet this celebration was swiftly shadowed by conflict. As the paladins of Iran gathered to swear allegiance to Kai Khosrow, Tus son of Nowzar—the grand marshal of the realm and bearer of the Kavian Banner—refused to bow. Tus argued fiercely that because Kai Khosrow bore the maternal blood of Afrasiab, he could not sit upon the throne of Iran; instead, he championed Prince Fariburz, the son of Kavus. This defiance ignited a furious feud between Tus and Gudarz. Gudarz mobilized his vast lineage—seventy-eight sons and grandsons—alongside twelve thousand armored horsemen, while Tus arrayed his own formidable army under the royal banner. Iran stood on the knife-edge of a catastrophic civil war between its two greatest heroic houses.
Beholding the radiant majesty of Kai Khosrow seated atop his war elephant amidst Gudarz’s overwhelming host, Tus realized that a battle between Iranians would bring only ruin, serving the dark desires of Afrasiab. He stayed his hand and sent a plea to King Kay Kavus. The king summoned both paladins to his presence. Before the throne, a fierce verbal duel erupted: Gudarz praised Khosrow’s divine glory, comparing his miraculous crossing of the Oxus to Fereydoun’s crossing of the Arvand, while Tus boasted of his own royal descent from King Nowzar and Manuchehr. To resolve the impasse without favor, Kay Kavus proposed a formidable trial: both princes, Fariburz and Kai Khosrow, would march to the demon-haunted Bahman Fortress near Ardabil—a stronghold entrenched in dark sorcery and Ahrimanic fire. Whichever prince could conquer the fortress by the sword would win the crown of Iran.
Tus eagerly set out with Prince Fariburz and a grand army toward Ardabil. But as they neared the citadel of Bahman, they found a hellish nightmare: the earth boiled like molten fire, spears glowed red-hot in the stifling haze, and the ramparts vanished into the searing sky. No mortal weapon could pierce the sorcerous flames, nor could any horseman endure the infernal heat that scorched warriors inside their armor. For seven agonizing days, Tus and Fariburz circled the fortress, unable to find an entrance or withstand the demonic elements. Utterly defeated and humiliated, they turned back in despair.