As the Iranian host marched back along the road of Charam, beneath the fortress of Kalat and the waters of Mayam, a suffocating veil of remorse and sorrow hung over every warrior. Their eyes streamed with blood and their hearts bled with guilt, for they had slain the King's own innocent brother, Farud, and left his realm to ruin. Entering the royal sanctuary like chastened servants, they stood before King Kay Khosrow with hands crossed over their chests.
When Khosrow looked upon them, his eyes burned with furious tears. Turning his heart toward Yazdan, the King cried out in anguish: 'O Just Creator, You granted me wisdom and sovereign judgment, yet today I feel utterly ashamed before You! Were it not for divine restraint, I would command a thousand gallows to be raised upon the plain, hanging Tus and every champion who followed his foolish banner. I burned with a desire to avenge my father Siyavash, but now a fresh tragedy bleeds within my heart—the innocent blood of my brother Farud, cut down by my own army!'
In his intense grief, the King cursed Tus, declaring him devoid of wisdom and fit only for the bottom of a dark pit. He barred the doors of his audience hall, weeping bitterly for his fallen kin. Seeing the monarch's heart consumed by agony, the Iranian nobles hurried to the court of Rostam Tahamtan, begging the mighty champion to intercede. They urged Rostam to explain that Tus had suffered grievous personal losses—his son Zarasp and son-in-law Rivniz—and that the army had acted out of ignorance, not malice.
As night descended over the earth, Rostam entered the King's presence and kissed the threshold. With profound eloquence and steady wisdom, Rostam calmed the monarch's rage, reminding Khosrow that no man dies without a fated cause, and that Tus had been blinded by the tragic deaths of his own offspring. Touched by Rostam's noble words, Khosrow accepted the counsel as medicine for his wounded soul.
The next morning, Tus approached the throne in deep humility, kissing the earth before the King. He repented his rashness and swore an oath never to wear anything but his iron helmet until he had washed away this shame in the blood of Turan. Reassured, King Kay Khosrow granted forgiveness, but decreed that henceforth Tus could not move the war-elephants or sound the war-horns without the wise counsel of Giv, ensuring that no further rashness would claim the lives of Iran's valiant sons.