It was evening, and the sun cast its last golden rays upon the plains of Anshan, as if blessing the historical scene that was taking shape with its light. The dust of the dawn maneuver had settled, and a silence filled with admiration and contemplation enveloped the plain. The elders and chiefs of the Persian tribes, still in awe of the stunning display of Kourosh's hidden army, headed towards a large tent that had been erected in the heart of the plain. This tent, with its thick fabrics and sturdy wooden poles, seemed like a temple for wisdom and unity. The scent of burnt wood, leather, and the fragrance of dried herbs scattered in the corners of the tent created a heavy but hopeful atmosphere. The lit torches around the tent cast the long shadows of the elders on the walls, as if each shadow depicted a part of the future of the Persians.
Cambyses, in a magnificent robe and helmet, stood in the center of the tent, with a presence that proclaimed his kingship and authority. Beside him, little Kourosh, in a simple yet elegant attire, had a calmness in his face that stemmed from a deep wisdom. His eyes, which seemed to see the future, were fixed on the elders with confidence. Around them, the tribal chiefs, in colorful attire and with tribal adornments, entered the tent one by one and took their seats. Their faces, still showing the spark of wonder from the maneuver, were full of questions and anticipation. Whispers of admiration and sometimes doubt were heard among them, but all were waiting to see what this young prince, who had returned with the wisdom of Behistun, had in mind.
Cambyses, in a clear and majestic voice that broke the silence of the tent, said, "Elders of Persia, today you witnessed a power that was nurtured in the solitude of Behistun; an army that is ready not only for war but also for the construction and prosperity of our land. But this is only the beginning of the road. Now is the time to speak about the future of our land." He paused for a moment, cast a look full of pride at Kourosh, and continued, "My son, Kourosh, who has built this army with his wisdom and determination, will now speak to you. Lend him your ears, for his words are our roadmap."
Kourosh, with calm and confident steps, came to the center of the tent. The torchlight illuminated his childish yet determined face. He looked at each of the elders for a moment, as if wanting to read each of their hearts. Then, in a clear but calm voice in which wisdom and confidence resonated, he began to speak: "Elders of Persia, what you saw on the plain today was just a glimpse of the 'Persian Art of War,' which was shaped in the solitude of Behistun, inspired by Ahura Mazda and the knowledge I have gathered for this land. This hidden army, who are the loyal children of this soil, showed that we can, with discipline and unity, create an unparalleled power." He paused and continued with a piercing gaze, "But this power will only become eternal when we, the Persians, abandon our disunity and build a central and unified army. An army that not only stands against our enemies but also, in times of peace, lays the foundations of a glorious civilization."
One of the tribal chiefs, an elderly man with a white beard and a wrinkled face that showed years of experience, named Gashtasb, rose from his place. His voice, a mixture of respect and doubt, echoed in the tent: "Prince Kourosh, we witnessed the power of this army and were amazed. But each of our tribes has its own soldiers, warriors who are loyal to tribal traditions. Why should we merge these soldiers? Does this not mean the loss of our tribes' independence and identity?" The gazes of the other elders were also fixed on Kourosh, as if waiting for an answer that would resolve their doubts.
Kourosh, with a gentle smile that showed his understanding of their concern, replied, "Noble Gashtasb, our independence lies in our unity. Each tribe is like a branch of a mighty tree; apart, we are fragile, but together, our roots will make the land of Persia steadfast." He paused for a moment and continued in a firmer voice, "Our enemy, Astyages, has a large and organized army. If we remain scattered, each tribe will collapse before him alone. But if we unite, if we gather our soldiers under one banner, we will create a power that no enemy can stand against. This army does not destroy your identity, but immortalizes it, for each tribe will be a part of the soul of this army."
Then, Kourosh's tone became more serious, and he looked into the eyes of the elders with a piercing gaze: "Elders, I have received worrying news from my intelligence network in Ecbatana. My grandfather, Astyages, after my mother's open letter, is drowned in anger and restlessness. He has taken refuge in debauchery and drinking, and his health is deteriorating. But this weakness has made him more dangerous. Reports say he is preparing a massive army to attack Anshan in the next six months and to regain his lost authority. He wants to extinguish the fire of tribal discontent by suppressing us."
Upon hearing this news, whispers of concern spread among the elders. Faces became serious, and gazes were fixed on Kourosh. One of the tribal chiefs, named Bahram, said in an anxious voice, "Six months? That is very little time! How can we prepare in this period?" Kourosh replied with determination, "Yes, the time is short, but it is enough. The book 'The Persian Art of War,' which I wrote in Behistun, shows us the way. If we decide today and send the tribal soldiers for training in this central army, I can turn them into professional and efficient warriors in this short time. The new tactics, the military formations you saw today, and the unparalleled discipline of this army will make us an invincible force."
He paused for a moment and continued in a voice full of hope, "This army is not just for war. As you saw today, our soldiers can build bridges, dig canals, and develop our land. We will build an army that crushes the enemy in war and builds an eternal civilization in peace." Kourosh pointed to one of his disciples, Arash, who was standing in the corner of the tent, and said, "Arash, the commander of this maneuver, and my disciples, each of whom led a group, are proof of the fact that with training and unity, we can make the impossible possible."
Cambyses, who had listened carefully to Kourosh's words, rose from his place. His eyes shone with pride, and his voice, a mixture of fortitude and confidence, echoed in the tent: "Elders, Kourosh's words are the words of wisdom. We cannot stand idly by in the face of this threat. Astyages, with his tyranny, has brought himself to ruin, but we, with our unity, will build a bright future. I have faith in my son and his wisdom. He is not only my son but the hope of Persia. Will you be with us?"
A short silence filled the tent, but this silence was not of doubt, but of contemplation. Gashtasb, the same elderly tribal chief, rose again and, in a voice now devoid of doubt, said, "Prince Kourosh, we saw today's maneuver and we believe in your wisdom. I, on behalf of my tribe, will send my soldiers to your army. Let this army be the banner of our unity." Bahram, who was previously worried about the short time, also rose and said, "We are with you too, Prince. This army is our hope. We are ready to fight alongside you." One by one, the other tribal chiefs also declared their support, and the sound of their approval echoed like a wave in the tent.
Kourosh, with a satisfied smile, looked at the elders and said, "Elders of Persia, this moment is a turning point in our history. With this unity, we will turn the Persian army into a professional and legendary force. This army will stand not only against Astyages but against any enemy who dares to trespass on this land." He pointed to Arash and added, "Arash and my disciples will begin the training of your soldiers. With the tactics of 'The Persian Art of War,' with discipline, and with faith in Ahura Mazda, we will build a future that will make the name of Persia eternal for a thousand years."
Cambyses, seeing the unity of the elders, placed his hand on Kourosh's shoulder and said, "My son, today you have not only united the Persians, but you have planted the seed of an empire that will change the world." The central tent, which had now witnessed this historic pact, seemed to be not just a place for discussion, but a symbol of the determination and unity of the Persians to face the coming storm. The cheers of the elders, which reached the plain from the tent, heralded the birth of the Persian army; an army that was destined to change history forever with its legends.