When King Hormazd IV sat upon the throne of the Sasanian Empire, he established a rule of relentless justice and uncompromising discipline. Loving the cool and pleasant air of Istakhr, he spent two months there every year and issued strict royal decrees: no soldier or noble was permitted to trample a peasant's field or plunder fruit from an orchard. The penalty for allowing a mount to damage crops was the docking of the horse's ears and tail, and thieves were sent directly to the gallows.
Hormazd possessed a beloved son named Khosrow, whom he affectionately styled Parviz. So close was their bond that the King was rarely seen without the young prince. However, fate tested Hormazd's royal justice when Khosrow's spirited black stallion broke loose from its stable and galloped into a farmer’s cultivated field. When the royal inspector brought word of the damage to Hormazd, the King did not hesitate. He commanded that Khosrow's own treasury fully compensate the farmer and ordered the royal attendants to cut off the ears and tail of the prince's horse.
Distressed, Prince Khosrow sent noble intercessors to plead for mercy and spare his fine mount, but King Hormazd burned with indignation at any attempt to bypass the law. Fearing the King's wrath, the inspector ran to the field, drew his dagger, and docked the stallion's ears and tail on the very spot where its hooves had bruised the crops, while Khosrow promptly remitted full gold compensation to the aggrieved cultivator.
During a subsequent royal hunt, a noble knight picked a few unripe sour grapes from a villager's vineyard. When the owner complained and threatened to report the deed to the King, the terrified knight unbuckled his precious golden belt—studded with priceless jewels—and handed it over to buy the farmer's silence, well aware that Hormazd's justice spared neither rank nor title.
For ten years, Hormazd ruled over a tranquil realm, but then a catastrophe of apocalyptic proportions gathered at Iran's frontiers. From the eastern road of Herat, King Saveh of the Turks advanced with a colossal army of four hundred thousand warriors and twelve hundred armored war-elephants, obscuring the earth in clouds of dust. Saveh Shah dispatched an arrogant letter demanding complete submission, passage through Iran, and provisions for his endless host. Simultaneously, the Roman Caesar invaded with one hundred thousand veteran knights to reclaim lost territories, while Khazar hordes swept down from Armenia to Ardabil, and Arab raiders ravaged the lands along the Euphrates.
King Hormazd summoned his realm's wise men and mobads in deep distress. The chief minister advised sending diplomatic concessions to Caesar and dispatching a force under the valiant general Khrad to repel the Khazars. Khrad successfully repulsed the Khazars, securing the northern borders. However, the existential threat of Saveh Shah's eastern host remained.
To seek guidance, Hormazd summoned the ancient sage Mehran Setad, who lived in pious seclusion studying the Zand and Avesta. Carried to the court in a litter, the dying old man recounted a prophecy made decades earlier when he had journeyed to China to fetch Hormazd's mother, the noble daughter of the Khatun. Court astrologers had foretold that when a mighty Turkish monarch threatened to destroy Iran, a tall, dry-bodied warrior with dark eyes, a large nose, and coarse hair—a hero named Bahram Chobin from the northern Marches—would arise and single-handedly crush the invader's vast army.
Upon uttering these words, Mehran Setad breathed his last. Stunned, Hormazd searched his military registers and discovered Bahram, son of Bahram Gushnasp, serving as governor in Bardaa and Ardabil. Hormazd summoned the general to court; as Bahram Chobin entered the royal presence, Hormazd recognized every physical trait described in the prophecy, smiled with relief, and welcomed the savior of Iran with highest royal honors.