The fortress in the borderlands was filled with the most influential and powerful men of Pars.
The chiefs of all the tribes, from the elderly Gashtasb with his white beard to the warrior Rostam with his sun-scorched face, sat in a silence full of anticipation.
In the center, on a large table, the map of the opposing plain was spread out.
Colored wooden pieces showed the position of the Persian army and the predicted movement of the Median army.
The air was thick with the smell of leather, metal, and the tension before a battle.
Cambyses sat at the head of the table, and beside him, Kourosh stood with a calmness that contrasted with the heavy atmosphere of the tent.
Cambyses broke the silence.
"Elders, as you know, Azhidahak's army is a few leagues from us."
"In two days, the fate of Pars will be decided on this plain."
"We have gathered here to decide on the final battle plan."
"I ask my son, Kourosh, who is the mastermind of this army, to explain his plan to you."
All eyes turned towards that small figure.
Kourosh came to the side of the map with deliberate steps.
"Elders of Pars, the intelligence from our spies is clear. The enemy is coming towards us with all their strength and with arrogance."
"They consider us weak and cowardly. And we will use this very arrogance as our greatest weapon."
He pointed to the center of the plain with his wooden staff.
"We will face them on this open plain."
"The central corps, under the command of General Arash, will stand in the heart of the field and absorb their first wave of attack."
"At the same time, the cavalry corps, under the command of Bagpat, will charge them from the right flank."
"And our scythed chariots, from the left flank, will crush their support lines."
"This will be a swift, crushing, and decisive attack."
As Kourosh's words ended, a murmur spread through the tent.
Gashtasb, the elderly tribal chief, rose with a worried face.
"Prince, your wisdom is admirable."
"But is this plan not too bold?"
"In terms of numbers, we are less than half of them."
"A head-on battle in an open plain is suicide."
"Why not take refuge in the fortress and use the advantage of the walls?"
Rostam, the chieftain of the Maraphii tribe, also agreed with him.
"Gashtasb is right. We can tire them out for weeks behind the fortress walls. This plan carries a great risk."
These words represented the traditional and cautious thinking of the older generation of commanders; a thinking shaped by the experience of past wars.
But the new generation had a different opinion.
Bagpat rose with a clenched fist. His voice was full of fire and excitement.
"Why the doubt, elders?"
"Have you forgotten the power of our new weapons? Have you not seen the order of our corps?"
"We are no longer that scattered army of yesterday. We are Persian soldiers!"
"We were not made to hide behind walls. We were made to shatter the enemy in the open field!"
Arash also confirmed his words with a calm but steel-like certainty.
"The prince's plan is based on precise intelligence and our tactical superiority."
"We are faster, more orderly, and spiritually stronger."
"If we take refuge in the fortress, we allow the enemy to besiege us and use their numerical superiority to wear us down."
"But in the open field, it is our speed and order that will decide the victory, not their numbers."
The debate heated up.
The tent was divided into two fronts: the experience and caution of the old generation versus the fervor and confidence of the new generation.
Cambyses listened to these debates in silence.
In his heart, he too agreed with Gashtasb. This plan seemed like a deadly risk.
But he had trusted his son.
Finally, he rose and brought silence to the tent.
"I understand your concern, elders. This is a decision on which the lives of thousands depend."
He then looked at Kourosh.
"My son, do you believe in this plan?"
Kourosh, without a moment's hesitation, stared into his father's eyes.
"Yes, Father. I believe in this plan, in this army, and in our men. We will be victorious."
This absolute confidence, this unwavering faith, erased the last particles of doubt from Cambyses's heart.
He turned to the elders and, with a voice in which there was no longer any doubt, roared:
"Then the decision is made."
"We will fight on the plain."
"Anyone who disagrees with this plan can return to his tribe right now."
"But whoever stays must fight with his entire being and with complete obedience to his commander."
A heavy silence reigned.
No one moved from his place.
The pact was sealed.
They would fight together and win together, or they would die together.