News of the vast Iranian army reached Afrasiab, casting a dark pall of dread over Turan. The borders swelled with warriors like a storm-tossed sea. Afrasiab urgently summoned his veteran commander Piran, counseling that they must muster troops from every corner of the realm before the rays of the sun and moon were forever extinguished by Key Khosrow's vengeance.
Meanwhile, the Iranian host reached the pass of Kaseh-Rud, only to be struck by a sudden, merciless tempest. A heavy cloud dense with bitter frost engulfed the mountains; lips froze against teeth, and pavilions hardened into sheer ice. For a full week, the surface of the plains vanished beneath mountains of snow. Thoughts of battle faded as starvation took hold; warriors were forced to slaughter and devour their own warhorses, and countless men and beasts perished in the freezing void.
On the eighth day, the sun burst through the clouds, melting the colossal snowdrifts into roaring torrents of water. Tus, the commander-in-chief, gathered the chieftains and suggested retreating from the cursed terrain of Kelat, Sped-Kuh, and Kaseh-Rud. But Bahram confronted Tus, accusing him of wavering in his holy vow to avenge Siyavash. Tus defended his record, recalling the tragic losses of Zarasp and Rivniz at Farud's fortress, declaring that Farud's fall was decreed by fate and that past griefs must now give way to resolute action.
It was then recalled that King Kay Khosrow had charged Giv son of Goudarz with a perilous quest: to ignite and destroy the towering mountain of timber blocking their advance through Kaseh-Rud. Bijan stepped forward, begging to take the toil upon his own young shoulders to spare his aging father. Yet Giv refused, declaring his spirit unyielding, and rode forth alone to the colossal pile of wood. Striking sparks from his steel arrowheads, Giv ignited the wooden mountain. For three weeks, infernal heat, towering blazes, and dense smoke sealed the pass. Only in the fourth week did the roaring inferno and floodwaters subside, allowing the Iranian host to march safely through the ashes and pitch their grand pavilions across the plains.
Nearby dwelt Tazhav, a fearsome Turanian warrior who guarded King Afrasiab's vast horse herds between the mountains. Learning of the Iranian army's encampment, Tazhav dispatched his trusted herdsman, Kabudeh, under the cover of night to scout their numbers and banners for a planned night assault. Kabudeh slunk into the darkness toward the Iranian lines, but Bahram, standing vigilant night guard, caught the muffled sound of Kabudeh's horse. Without a word, Bahram drew his bow and unleashed a deadly arrow through the obsidian dark. The shaft pierced Kabudeh's belt; he fell from his steed, begging for mercy and revealing Tazhav's scheme. Bahram, declaring Tazhav no match for a lion of Iran, severed Kabudeh's head with his dagger, tied it to his saddle-bow, and cast it down before the Iranian camp as a testament to their unwavering watch.