As the words of King Goshtasp regarding the insolent demands of Arjasp reached their ears, Zarir the commander—bold as a prowling lion—and the mighty prince Esfandiyar leapt to their feet. Unsheathing their gleaming blades, they swore a sacred oath: if anyone across the broad earth should refuse the Good Religion, turn away from absolute obedience to the crown, or fail to bind his waist before the luminous throne, they would sunder his soul with the sword and hang his severed head high upon a gallows.
Then Zarir, Iran’s matchless general, stepped forward in noble fashion and craved the King's leave to draft a reply to Arjasp the sorcerer. King Goshtasp rejoiced at his brother's fierce eagerness and commanded him to rise, write the missive, and bring shame upon the warlords of Khallakh.
Noble Zarir, the blessed Esfandiyar, and Jamasp—the wise and intrepid vizier—withdrew together, their brows furrowed with vengeance and their hearts dark with wrath. They set pen to parchment, crafting an answer so formidable and harsh that it perfectly matched the insolence of Arjasp’s original letter. Zarir carried the unsealed parchment back to the throne and read it aloud; King Goshtasp was astonished and thrilled by the swift wisdom of his commander, his vizier, and his son. Sealing it with the royal signet, he inscribed his name upon it and summoned the envoys of Touran into his presence.
With fierce majesty, Goshtasp cast the letter before them and thundered: 'Take this and speed unto your master; linger not upon the road! Know this: were it not for the divine decree of the Avesta and Zand granting immunity to envoys, I would rouse you from your slumber and hang you alive upon the gallows, so that wolf-hearted Arjasp might learn never to raise his neck against the King of kings!'
Throwing the parchment to their feet, he commanded: 'Go! Carry this to the sorcerer Turk! Tell him that his doom is at hand, and his body hungers for blood and dust! May the wind strike your neck, your waist be pierced with steel, and your bones cast onto the barren soil! If God wills it, within this very month I shall don my iron mail, march my armies into the realm of Touran, and reduce the land of the Wolf-heads to utter ruin!'