Parviz

As the army descended from the rugged mountains, the thick dust kicked up by the horsemen swallowed the sun, veiling the realm in darkness. From the opposing flank, Bahram Chubin advanced his forces, filling the horizon with shouting warriors and dark clouds of battle. Bahram boasted arrogantly to his inner circle, proclaiming that supreme kingship required intellect, prowess, and stature—virtues he claimed for himself, vowing to trample even the glorious legacy of Anushirvan into the dust. Midst the fray, an arrow caught the hem of King Khosrow's robes; a swift retainer quickly dislodged the missile before harm could come to the monarch.

Infuriated, King Khosrow charged directly at Bahram Chubin like a roaring lion. He thrust a heavy battle-spear against Bahram’s belt, but the rebel's steel armor held firm; the spear-head snapped in two, striking dread into the rebel's heart. Seeing his spear shattered, Khosrow drew his royal blade and swung a devastating blow upon Bahram's helm. The sheer force of the impact shattered the king's sword upon the iron helmet, sending the clang of metal echoing across the battlefield. Witnessing such raw majesty, the noble Iranian champions roared in praise and surged forward, scattering the enemy ranks.

Seeing the battlefield choked with troops like swarms of ants and locusts, the wise Bandoy rode up to King Khosrow and counseled him: it was beneath the dignity of the Sovereign to endanger his life in direct combat with a rebellious servant or to spill blood needlessly. Those who seek mercy should be granted quarter rather than put to the sword. Khosrow heeded the wise counsel, declaring that any rebel who repented would find absolute sanctuary under the imperial crown.

As night descended over the dark peaks and sentinels struck their night-gongs, Bandoy rode out between the two encamped armies accompanied by an eloquent herald. Standing close to the rebel lines, the herald proclaimed aloud that the Sovereign of the World, in the name of Yazdan, had granted full royal pardon to all who served Bahram, covering both open and secret transgressions. The words echoed through the dark night, reaching the ears of Bahram's chief commanders. Realizing the battle was lost, the chieftains secretly packed their gear and abandoned the rebel standard.

When the morning sun crested the eastern peaks, painting the realm in radiant gold, the plains lay entirely deserted—devoid of men, leaving only empty tents behind. Bahram walked through the abandoned encampment, finding only his most loyal inner circle remaining. Recognizing that further combat meant absolute ruin, Bahram ordered three thousand heavy pack-camels to be brought forward. He loaded all his royal treasures—ivory thrones, golden goblets, gem-encrusted crowns, woven carpets, and provisions—and fled into the deep wilderness under the cover of morning light.