Rajiv Menon -- ThunderGod (12 page)

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Mitra was furious as he scanned the forest with his mind. He soon detected the presence, a short distance away, perched high above them on a tree. The creature seemed to be alone. Mitra used telepathy to communicate with it.

'For three years we heeded your warning and did not set foot in here, not because we feared you, but for the sake of peace. What was the need for this provocation?'

'Provocation! You brought your vast herds of animals and drove away all the deer and the wild goats from these lands. My people have nothing to hunt and are starving!'

'So you attack and kill defenceless young boys?'

There was no immediate reply; the creature seemed to be pondering what Mitra had said. Mitra grabbed Paras by the shoulder and pointed with his staff the precise location of the creature.

'The boy was brave,' the creature finally said. 'He stood his ground and tried to fight. He did not give us a choice.'

As Mitra released his shoulder, Paras leaned back and flung his spear in the direction pointed out by Mitra. A sharp cry told the two men that the weapon had found its mark. The creature hit the ground with a thud. Through the mist, they saw the dark shape stand upright and wrench the spear out of its shoulder. Then it bounded towards Paras on all fours and, with an incredible burst of speed, leapt for his throat.

Mitra was the first to react. He swung his staff at the beast. The hard knot of wood at one end caught the creature on the side of its head, just as its jaws were a few inches from Paras' throat. The impact threw it to one side, where it lay breathing heavily. Paras advanced towards it, sword raised.

The creature shook its head as if to clear it and turned towards them, sitting in an upright position. Mitra was surprised to observe how it naturally assumed the lotus position, a sitting position favoured only by seers and holy men. Its skin was pale and transparent, so its veins and arteries could clearly be seen. Its hairless, naked body did not seem to be affected by the cold. The face was feral, with a slightly protruding nose and jaw. Its eyes, with its red pupils, were perfectly adapted to see in poor light. It had big pointed ears and an impressive set of canines, which it revealed as it grinned at them.

Mitra, looking into the creature's eyes, caught a glimpse of the human being within.

Paras watched in shock as the wound inflicted by his spear on the creature's shoulder miraculously closed up, leaving no scar in its place. The creature turned to Paras, and he could hear its thoughts clearly in his head.

'It is I who killed your brother. Take my head by all means if you must, young man, for that is the only way to kill one of us. But before that I pray that you listen to my story, for it might be useful to you and your kind. You, who are about to rule this land that once belonged to my tribe.'

***

The creature looked at the two men, amused by the shock on their faces.

'I am Uruk, of the Pisacha tribe, who once ruled this beautiful plateau. Many years ago, when I was a young warrior, I led a hunting party to one of the mountain slopes to the east. There we saw a bright pillar of light appear in the heavens, shining down on the mountaintop.

'While the others were scared, I was of a curious bent of mind, so I climbed the mountain to investigate. When I reached the top, I came upon seven beings, priests of some kind. They wore robes with hoods that kept their faces covered. Their leader touched me on my forehead and spoke to me using his thoughts. He forbade me to speak of what I saw there or ever return. I had no idea how they had got up there or how they survived with no food and protection from the elements. The only way to the top of the mountain was through our land and our tribe had never come in contact with them, ever.

'I went back and spoke to no one, not even my family, about what had happened up there. But almost immediately I noticed the change that had occurred in me. I was able to read thoughts and communicate with others mentally. I also received the gift of healing. For a while I tried to keep it secret, but it was hard to conceal such powers for long from the other members of the tribe. Soon my hut was always filled with people wanting to be treated for all sorts of ailments.

'As my popularity grew, it began to worry the chief and he decided to send his guards after me. While I got wind of the plot early, I was unable to save my family. They were ruthlessly slaughtered. A few faithful companions and I escaped and made our way up the mountain. We were hit by a blizzard that raged for days. While it warded off our pursuers it left us exposed on the mountain face, completely cut off from our land.

'For days we waited for the weather to yield, but to no avail. With no food and faced with the prospect of freezing to death, I made the decision to disobey the beings and make our way once again to the summit. This time at the top there was no pillar of light to greet me. Instead I saw a crude temple made from the huge rocks lying there. Inside, the seven of them sat in a circle engaged in some kind of a ritual. The leader politely requested us to leave, as they did not have any food to offer us.

'We looked at these beings. They seemed to be in perfect physical condition. How was this possible if they had no food to eat? We became angry that they did not want to share their food with us. Tired and starving, I do not know what madness overcame me. I gave the order to attack.

'The beings offered no resistance. As their hoods were swept aside, we saw that they had huge, oval-shaped heads, completely devoid of any hair. Their eyes were large, with pupils that were dark blue and seemed to gaze into the very depth of our souls. Though their bodies looked young, they seemed to carry the wisdom of the ages in their eyes.

'Hunger had pushed me beyond the limits of reason where I could pay attention to any of these signs. I had become a savage beast. I struck the leader on the head with my club. He did not cry out, but fell down and continued to stare at me. His eyes, strangely enough, seemed to be filled with pity.

'With no wood to make a fire and no strength left to butcher their carcasses, I gave the order to slit their throats and drink their living blood. In my madness, I told myself that if their mere touch had given me these powers, drinking their lifeblood would turn us into supermen or even gods. As we drank to our heart's content, a deep sleep overcame each one of us. This is the way we found ourselves when we awoke. As for those beings, their bodies had vanished without a trace.'

Uruk's savage face underwent a startling transformation and he started to weep. Mitra watched him in silence, amazed by his story. He scanned the creature's mind, looking for signs of deceit. There were none. Who were these beings? Why were they living on this remote mountaintop?

'So do your men share your regret at their fate?' Mitra asked Uruk.

The creature spat on the ground in disgust. 'They have become mindless beasts whose lives are governed by the thirst, for that is our curse. We have been forever dismissed from the light to skulk in dark corners and suffer this insatiable thirst for fresh blood.'

Mitra realised that, for his part as the principal in the incident, Uruk had to carry the burden of his human conscience within this grotesque body. He felt only pity for this unfortunate creature as he asked him to continue with his tale.

'We found another way down the mountain, a secret passageway through its depths. There we waited, fearful of the sun, all the while suffering the thirst. I blamed the chief for our plight and decided to exact a terrible revenge on him and his supporters within the tribe. But the village was more than two days' march from the mountain, with no protection from the sun on the plateau.

'I waited patiently for months, till one day fortune finally favoured us. A mist descended on the plateau. We waited for the cover of night and then attacked our old village. However, I did not bargain for the bestiality of my companions. Once I unleashed them on the village, they proved to be impossible to control. The end of the carnage left not one male member of our tribe alive. They were all slaughtered, down to the last child. I selected a few young and fertile women and fed them with my own infected blood to turn them. We needed them to breed the next generation of the Pisacha.'

Uruk took a deep breath, it was as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had a faraway look in his eyes.

'We have lived and hunted here ever since, never leaving this forest except once every four or five years, when the mist comes in and the entire plateau of Gandhar becomes our hunting ground once again.'

He stood up and bowed his head.

'My people lack the intelligence to see the futility of our present existence. But I have no desire left to live like this any more. So take my head, warrior, and avenge your brother.'

Paras was calm as he said, 'I have no wish to go against the gods who have condemned you to this existence. But know this, man or beast or whatever you may be, if you ever venture into our lands again we will hunt down every last one of you. It will be like you and your kind never existed on this earth.'

Mitra was pleased with the young warrior's restraint. He knew how much Paras wanted to avenge the death of his brother. He now stood up and addressed Uruk.

'Let us now come to an understanding. The stream that flows through the western border of the Forest of Cedars marks the end of your land and the beginning of ours. Let that line never be crossed.'

Uruk clenched his right fist and placed it on his heart, his savage face now almost serene.

'The Pisacha will always honour this pact, Master.'

He turned and leapt in the air, and then all they heard was the rustling of leaves as the mist and the trees swallowed him up.

They rode back in silence, each man lost in thought at all he had heard and witnessed.

'Do you think the Pisacha will keep their word?'

Mitra took his time to reply.

'It is not the Pisacha I worry about. It is us.'

5

It was the first hour after dawn and the clanging of bronze from Mitra's hermitage carried far across the quiet plain. In the little courtyard, Mitra sat with four young men watching a duel in progress. The boys were engrossed in the fight.

Varuna, the oldest, was leaning back on his elbows, affecting disinterest, but following every move closely. Next to him, Agni jumped up and down, screaming encouragement. He had to be restrained physically by Mitra as he nearly fell into the combat area in his excitement. Vayu, the third boy, was physically the largest. His shoulders and neck were thick with muscle and belied his youth. He was a good-tempered lad with a sense of humour to match. He taunted the two fighters, questioned their manhood, and made ribald jokes. Soma, the youngest, was silent as he watched the two fighters carefully and studied their every move. His face was a picture of concentration.

In the middle of the courtyard, fourteen-year-old Indra circled his opponent warily. He held his sword steady, pointed at his opponent's head, and peered over the rim of his shield as he looked for a weakness in his defence. His adversary, Paras, watched his younger opponent carefully. They had been sparring for an hour now and neither had been able to create an opening.

Indra was quick on his feet as he launched an attack. He darted forward with a couple of swift lunges and forced his opponent to give ground. Then he launched himself high in the air and brought his sword down hard in a chopping motion. Paras took the blow high on his shield; the impact jarred his arm. He could not but admire Indra's stamina as he continued to take evasive action.

Indra realised his opponent was getting tired and did not let up. He continued to follow him as he rained blows on his shield. Finally, he got the opening he was waiting for. Paras, now exhausted, dropped the hand that bore the shield slightly. Indra's eyes lit up: this was exactly what he had been waiting for. He lunged forward eagerly.

Even as he shifted his weight forward, he realised that his more experienced opponent had baited him, but it was too late. His momentum carried him forward, unchecked. Paras though prepared for the manoeuvre, was still taken by surprise at the speed of the strike. At the last minute, he twisted his body out of the way and swung his shield. The blow was late as the blade passed through his defences, but the bronze shield caught Indra on the wrist and forced him to drop his sword. In a flash, Paras leaned in and tapped Indra on the shoulder with the flat part of his sword. The contest was over.

Paras realised how close Indra's blade had been to his exposed flank and heaved a sigh of relief. Although they were using training swords, that blow could have given him a painful injury. Mitra was the only other person to notice what a close call it had been for the young warrior. Indra threw his shield aside in anger and stormed off. His wrist hurt, but he resisted the urge to massage it. Soma was about to go after him, but a stern look from Mitra made the young boy sink right back down. Paras bowed, left the combat area and took his place on the side.

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