When Rostam returned to his grand hall, he stood pale and weighed down by profound foreboding, contemplating the long lineage of his deeds. Calling his brother Zovareh, he ordered the hidden vaults unlocked to retrieve his Indian blade, his war-helmet, his coat of mail, his heavy mace, lasso, tiger-skin mantle, and the armored housings of Rakhsh. Zovareh bade the treasurer bring forth the ancient battle-gear. Upon beholding his armor, Rostam let out a heavy sigh from his chest and addressed his coat of mail: 'O garment of battle, long have you rested in peace; but now a stern trial approaches, where two roaring lions shall clash. Let us see what play Esfandiyar brings to the field of war tomorrow.'
Overhearing his son's heavy words, the white-haired Zal was filled with terror. He confronted Rostam, saying: 'O renowned champion, what words are these that darken my soul? Never before have you ridden to war with anything but an open heart and obedience to the throne. I fear your guiding star has fallen asleep, and the house of Zal shall be uprooted. If you are slain by a royal youth like Esfandiyar, the realm of Zabulistan will turn to ash; and if you harm or slay him, the world will forever curse your name as the regicide who struck down Iran’s imperial heir. Offer him gold, bow down in servitude, or even hide in obscurity rather than cross swords with this royal prince.'
Rostam answered proudly: 'O venerable father, do not weigh these matters so lightly! I have survived the demons of Mazandaran, the horsemen of Hamavaran, and the mighty hosts of Kamus and the Khaqan of China. If I flee now, Sistan shall have no palace left standing. Tomorrow I shall draw neither mace nor lance against him; instead, I shall reach out, lift Esfandiyar cleanly off his saddle into my arms, bring him to our hall as an honored guest for three days, and then accompany him to King Goshtasp’s court, personally placing the royal crown upon his head!'
Zal laughed in dismay at his son’s audacious claim, shaking his head in wonder. 'O son,' said Zal, 'not even madmen would believe such wild boasts! Do not compare Kay-Qobad—who sat helpless without a throne—to Esfandiyar, whose name even the Emperor of China engraves upon his seal ring. Do not walk the path of ingratitude.' With these words, Zal pressed his forehead to the earth and prayed tearfully to the Almighty Creator until dawn broke over the mountains, begging God to turn away the terrible calamity overhanging their house.