The host of Khosrow Parviz set forth like the turning heavens, the thunder of royal kettle-drums filling the air and darkening the skies with ebony dust. Selecting an elite arm of noble champions, the king directed his march toward Azarabadagan. For two full weeks, reinforcing cohorts poured continuously into the royal encapment on the Plain of Duk, so vast that their ranks spilled across three narrow mountain passes. Khosrow conferred supreme command of this great host upon Niatos, while he himself, accompanied by a retinue of valiant horsemen, gave rein to his swift steed toward the paths of Chichast, heading toward the domain of Musil the Armenian.
As they rode, two horsemen galloped swiftly from afar toward the king's company. Khosrow turned to Gustahm, asking who these two bold riders were that swept across the plain with such urgency. Gustahm offered an answer that struck the king with utter astonishment: 'O Sovereign, the champion upon the piebald horse is none other than my brother Bandoy, and his companion hails from an allied army.' Khosrow marvelled, believing Bandoy to be either rotting in Bahram Chubin's dungeon or executed upon the gallows. Yet Gustahm pledged his very life upon the truth of his words. As the riders reached the shade of the royal presence, they dismounted and prostrated themselves in homage.
Bandoy recounted the perilous saga of his escape—how he had clad himself in Khosrow’s royal robes to trick Bahram's guards and gain precious time for his lord, before making his own daring break for freedom. Moved to tears by his uncle's loyalty, Khosrow embraced him. Bandoy then presented Musil the Armenian, declaring that ever since the king had departed for Rum, Musil had renounced the comforts of towns, dwelling only in tents upon the open plain, keeping a grand force armored and ready for Khosrow's return. Khosrow praised Musil's devotion, slipped his foot from his stirrup to allow Musil to kiss it, and promised to shower him with royal treasures.
Leaving the plain, Khosrow spurred his steed straight to the sacred fire temple of Adur Gushnasp. Trembling with solemn devotion, his heart heavy with grief, he stepped inside where the Herbad greeted him bearing the sacred Zand and Avesta. Unbuckling his golden girdle, the king showered sparkling jewels upon the holy flames and circled the altar in earnest prayer. He wept before the Divine Judge, praying for justice, that the heads of his treacherous foes be brought low to the dust. Refreshed in spirit, he returned to his camp, dispatching sharp-eyed scouts to gather intelligence on the movements of the world.