Ferbad hastened back to the King of Persia.  “The man,” he said, “is resolved not to yield.”  Then the King sent to Rustem.  And Rustem said, “Send me with a letter that shall be as keen as a sword and a message like a thunder-cloud.”  So the King sent for a scribe, who, making the point of his reed as fine as an arrowhead, wrote thus:  “These are foolish words, and do not become a man of sense.  Put away your arrogance, and be obedient to my words.  If you refuse, I will bring such an army against you as shall cover your land from one sea to the other; and the ghost of the White Genius shall call the vultures to feast on your brains.”

The King set his seal to this letter, and Rustem departed with it, with his club hanging to his saddlebow.  When the King of Mazanderan heard of his coming, he sent some of his nobles to meet him.  When Rustem saw them, he caught a huge tree that was by the wayside in his hands, twisted it with all his might, and tore it up, roots and all.  Then he poised it in his hand as if it were a javelin.  One of the nobles, the strongest of them all, rode up to him, caught one of his hands, and pressed it with all his might.  Rustem only smiled; but when in his turn he caught the noble’s hand in his, he crushed all the veins and bones, so that the man fell fainting from his horse.

When the King heard what had been done, he called one of his warriors, Kalahour by name, the strongest man in his dominions, and said to him, “Go and meet this messenger; show him your prowess, and cover his face with shame.”  So Kalahour rode to meet Rustem, and, taking him by the hand, wrung it with all the strength of an elephant.  The hand turned blue with the pain, but the hero did not flinch or give any sign of pain.  But when in his turn he wrung the hand of Kalahour, the nails dropped from it as the leaves drop from a tree.  Kalahour rode back, his hand hanging down, and said to the King, “It will be better for you to make peace than to fight with this lion, whose strength is such that no man can stand against him.  Pay this tribute, and we will make it good to you.  Otherwise we are lost.”

At this moment Rustem rode up.  The King gave him a place at his right hand, and asked him of his welfare.  Rustem, for answer, gave him the letter of Kei-Kaoeus.  When the King had read the letter, his face became black as thunder.  Then he said, “Carry back this answer to your master:  ’You are lord of Persia, and I of Mazanderan.  Be content; seek not that which is not yours.  Otherwise your pride will lead you to your fall.’”

The King would have given Rustem royal gifts, robes of honor, and horses, and gold.  But the hero would have none of them, but went away in anger.  When he had returned to the King of Persia, he said to him, “Fear nothing, but make ready for battle.  As for the warriors of this land of Mazanderan, they are nothing; I count them no better than a grain of dust.”

Meanwhile the king of the magicians prepared for war.  He gathered an army, horsemen and foot-soldiers and elephants, that covered the face of the earth, and approached the borders of Persia; and, on the other hand, King Kaoues marshaled his men of war and went out to encounter him.  The King himself took his place in the center of the line of battle, and in front of all stood the great Rustem.