In medieval Persian mythology, the Devil (here called Eblis) infiltrated the court of the legendary King Zahhak and persuaded him to murder his father and thereby inherit his kingdom. According to Shahnameh (The Book of Kings), an epic poem recounting the deeds of the Persian kings from antiquity to the seventh century, Eblis completed his corruption of Zahhak while disguised as his cook. His tainted touch turned the doomed monarch into a reptilian abomination with a monstrous appetite. No longer human, Zahhak ruled over the Persians for centuries, but his reign of terror inspired feats of heroism, including the daring escape of captives destined as fodder for the demonic despot. Shahnameh recounted that these survivors fled to the Iranian countryside and founded the Kurdish people.
When Zahhak stretched out his hand and ate, he was astonished at the man’s skill. He said to him, “You are a well-meaning man; consider what it is that you desire, and ask me for it.” The cook said, “May you live forever, your majesty; my heart is filled with love for you, and my soul nourished only by your glances. I have one request to ask of the victorious king, even though I am quite unworthy of it, and this is that he will command me to kiss his shoulders and rub my eyes and face there.” When Zahhak heard his words he had no notion of what the man was plotting and said, “I grant your request, and may your name be honored for it.” Then he said that the cook should kiss his shoulders as if he were his bosom friend. The demon kissed the king’s shoulders, and disappeared forthwith; no man had ever seen such a wonder in all the world.
Two black snakes grew from Zahhak’s shoulders. In his distress the king looked everywhere for a solution, and finally he simply cut them off. But they grew again on his shoulders like the limbs of a tree. Learned doctors gathered about him and one by one gave their opinions; they tried every kind of remedy, but were unable to cure the king of his affliction. Then Eblis himself appeared in the guise of a wise doctor and said to Zahhak, “These growths were fated to appear; leave the snakes where they are, they should not be cut back. You must prepare food for them, and placate them by feeding them; this is the only thing that you can do. Give them nothing but human brains to eat, and they should die from such food.” And what was the evil demon’s purpose in offering such advice, if not to empty the earth of mankind?
Zahhak reigned for a thousand years, and from end to end the world was his to command. The wise concealed themselves and their deeds, and the devil achieved their heart’s desire. Virtue was despised and magic applauded, justice hid itself away while evil flourished; demons rejoiced in their wickedness, while goodness was spoken of only in secret.
Two innocent young women were dragged from Jamshid’s house, trembling like the leaves of a willow tree; they were Jamshid’s sisters, the crown among his womenfolk. One of these veiled women was Shahrnavaz, and her chaste sister was Arnavaz. Zahhak trained them in magic and taught them evil ways, since he himself knew nothing but evil—murder, rapine, and the burning of cities.
Each night two young men, either peasants or of noble stock, were brought to Zahhak’s palace. There, in the hope of finding a cure for the king’s malady, they were killed and their brains made into a meal for the snakes. At the same time, there were two noble, upright men who lived in his realm; one was named Armayel the Pious, and the other, Garmayel the Perceptive. Together they talked of the king’s injustice and the evil manner in which he was nourished. One said, “We should go and present ourselves as cooks to the king, to see if we can save at least one of each pair who are killed to feed the snakes.”
They learned how to prepare numerous dishes and were accepted as cooks in the king’s kitchens. When the victims were dragged before the cooks, and the time came for their blood to be spilled, the two men looked at one another with eyes filled with tears and with rage in their hearts. Unable to do more, they saved one of the two from slaughter, substituting the brains of a sheep, which they mixed with the brains of the man they killed. And so they were able to rescue one of each pair, to whom they said, “Hide yourself away in the plains and mountains, far from the towns.” In this way they saved thirty victims a month, and when there were two hundred of them the cooks secretly gave them goats and sheep, and showed them a deserted area where they could live. The Kurds, who never settle in towns, are descended from these men.