When Bahman ascended the imperial throne of his ancestors, he bound his waist with justice and opened wide the doors of his royal treasury. He showered his host with silver and gold, bestowing vast domains and lordships upon his realm's noble chieftains. Then, he summoned a grand assembly of wise elders, veterans, and enlightened counselors, his head heavy with grief and his heart dripping blood as he brought forth the memory of his fallen father, Esfandiyar.
Addressing the assembly, Bahman declared: 'O enlightened minds, both young and old, remember well the turns of Fortune and the fate of Esfandiyar! Remember what Rostam and the sorcerous old Zal brought upon us, and how Faramarz now seeks our ruin both openly and in secret! My mind is consumed by anguish for Nush-Azar and Mehr-Nush, and for Esfandiyar, by whose glory the noble world once flourished. Even the painted murals upon the palace walls weep bitterly for Esfandiyar's blood. He who springs from pure lineage must never let the honor of his forefathers be buried in the dust! Just as King Fereydun avenged Jamshid upon Zahhak, Manuchehr brought a mighty army from Amol to avenge Iraj upon Salm and Tur, Kay Khosrow turned the world into a crimson sea to avenge Siyavash, and even Faramarz laid Kabul to dust to avenge Rostam—so too am I the most bound by duty to ride against the roaring lions!'
Upon hearing Bahman's impassioned decree, the captains and the host cried out in unison: 'We are thy humble servants! Our hearts are filled with thy love, and thy wisdom surpasses all. Do whatever thy royal will desires, for none shall turn away from thy command!' Reassured by his army's absolute loyalty, Bahman's fury burned hotter still. At dawn, the thunderous roar of the war-drums echoed through the encampment, raising ebony clouds of dust into the heavens as one hundred thousand sword-wielding horsemen rode forth toward the realm of Sistan.