Rajiv Menon -- ThunderGod (33 page)

'Who did this?'

'A demon! He goes by the name Indra. We would like to offer our services in your battle against him. We have two thousand men at our command.'

General Bhadra reached forward and grabbed the pompous man by the throat and lifted him. He seized the top of the man's head and twisted it clean off like one would twist open the stopper of a wine flask. Blood spurted out of the neck; the general took some of it in his mouth, gargled and spat it at the other man.

'His blood reeks of cowardice. What about yours?'

The commander soiled himself in terror and ran out of the tent screaming. The general curled his nose in disgust as he turned to one of his men.

'Prepare the men for some sport.'

***

Indra and his commanders prepared to defend the city against the approaching army. The breached gates of the city presented a huge problem. Defending a walled city was not the Devas' forte. With only about a thousand men, it would be impossible to defend the ramparts and the gateway. Only five hundred chariots had survived the battle, so even challenging the army outside the city walls would not be a wise decision. The Asuras, according to Timon, relied on their numbers, brute strength and individual skills as warriors. They could engage his chariot divisions and still have enough men to take the city. The only good news he had received that day had been that the two garrisons of Susa did not pose a threat any more. Bhadra and his legions had decimated them.

A guard walked into the hall and bowed low.

'There is an Asura emissary at the gates, my lord.'

'Send him in.'

Indra and his men had never seen an Asura warrior before, so there was a great deal of curiosity as the emissary entered the court. The Devas were by no means a short-statured people, yet the Asura stood at least half a head higher than the tallest of them. His long hair was braided, as was his long bushy beard. His dark eyes were fierce and hawk-like; he fixed his gaze on Indra as he spoke.

'Greetings, oh conqueror of Susa. My master Bhadra congratulates you on your great victory. As a warrior he appreciates the effort and cost you might have incurred. My master is a fair man; he knows you have neither the manpower nor the strength to now defend the city. He sees no honour in defeating a valiant but weakened enemy.'

The emissary paused dramatically to let his words sink in.

'So he challenges you to a duel unto death. The winner will get the city of Susa, and all its plunder.'

Indra could not believe his ears; the gods were indeed on his side. His enemy had just presented him a way out of a potentially tough predicament.

'Tell your master I accept his most gracious offer.'

The messenger smiled, almost with a sense of relief, and bowed to Indra.

'Very well, my lord! General Bhadra will await you outside the walls at dawn.'

As the messenger left, Indra and his commanders rejoiced at the turn of events. They could not have planned it better themselves. The only one in the hall who was not cheerful was Timon. The Asura general's offer did not make sense to him. Bhadra was a bloodthirsty monster; nothing gave him more pleasure than slaughtering an army. Why would a man like that want to avoid bloodshed? Besides whatever his reasons, there was no doubt in Timon's mind about General Bhadra's prowess as a warrior. He did not relish the thought that, come tomorrow, he might have the Asura as his master.

At the Asura camp, the messenger finished his report to Bhadra and left. The general was a relieved man. The situation had drastically changed since he had slaughtered the garrisons of Susa. He had received word that there had been a rebellion in the Sumerian city of Abash. The troops stationed there had been killed and the Asura commander hung from its gates.

Bhadra knew he had to hurry back and put down the rebellion before it spread to the other cities of Sumer. Yet Susa and all its riches lay within his grasp. Fighting duels to avoid wars had been a time-honoured tradition in his land. He made the decision to avoid a long drawn-out conflict through the hostile streets of the city. Bhadra's plan was clear, by morning tomorrow he would have this little Deva puppy's head and the city of Susa. He could then leave a small force to hold the city and hurry back to quell the rebellion. The city of Abash would pay dearly for denying him the pleasure of plundering Susa.

***

The first rays of the sun saw the Devas and a substantial number of the local population gather on the ramparts of Susa. They had all been witness to Indra's skills as a warrior, so there was an optimistic buzz around. Then Bhadra came into view. Clad in heavy bronze armour, he was as big as a house. In one hand he carried a wide-bladed scimitar, and in the other a wooden club that was as thick as a tree trunk. A hush fell on the crowd as he got closer and they were actually able to see how big he really was.

Bhadra bent his head and picked up the pace, his horned war helmet gave him the appearance of a giant bull in full charge. Soma stood by Indra and watched the Asura unperturbed.

'He seems in an awful hurry. Play with him for a while. Put on a show. It'll only improve your image with this lot.'

Indra nodded as he handed the crystal chalice back to Soma. His eyes shone with deadly intent as he watched Bhadra approach.

'Have another drink ready for me when I return, my friend.'

Indra set off. He wore no armour, only a white loincloth. In his right hand he carried his black sword. He ran swiftly in a zigzag pattern towards the enemy.

Bhadra watched him come and stopped. His opponent was swifter than any man he had seen. He tightened the grip on his weapons and waited. For all the Deva's speed, even a glancing blow from either weapon would kill him or set him up for the coup de grace.

Indra ran towards his adversary, sword in hand. As he neared him, Bhadra swung the scimitar, looking to cut his opponent in half. Indra did not check his run; he dropped to his knees and bent backwards allowing the thick curved blade to pass inches above him. There was a cry of anguish in the crowd as they watched their hero narrowly miss decapitation. His momentum started to carry Indra past the giant. As he slid across the coarse sand, he reversed the grip on his sword and slashed the back of Bhadra's thigh.

The cut had been executed with surgical precision; it cut through layers of thick-corded muscle and nicked the hamstring of the Asura general. Bhadra felt his right leg stiffen; he turned slowly on his other leg to face his slippery opponent. Indra was already on his feet and in motion. As Bhadra raised his blade to attack, he left his right side open for one brief second and Indra was quick to pounce on the opportunity. Bhadra felt a sharp pain under his armpit just above the protection of his armour. His entire right side went numb, his fingers opened and the scimitar fell to the ground. The stab had once again been delivered with pinpoint accuracy. It crippled one of the marmas or nerve centers of the giant warrior. As Indra danced out of reach, Bhadra's eyes widened in shock. He was not just being bested, he was being systematically taken apart.

Indra now dropped his guard and waited for his adversary to come to him. The giant warrior moved slowly as he dragged the crippled right side of his body. The Asura commanders were puzzled at his ungainly movement; up until now they had not seen Indra make any serious contact with their general.

Bhadra raised his club and advanced menacingly. Indra stood his ground, waiting. The giant put all his weight behind the club as he swung it.

As he watched the contest, Soma for one brief moment was a little worried. Indra was in too close. Even if Bhadra missed the blow, his huge girth would smother his friend.

Indra watched the giant come and, at the last minute, flung himself forward flat on the ground. He slid through the legs of Bhadra and as he came up behind him, he swung the sword. The slash was aimed low at the heel and it found its mark as it severed the Asura general's left Achilles tendon.

His left leg now rendered useless, Bhadra turned slowly on his already injured right leg, using his club as a crutch. His great bulk that had served him well in so many battles now became his enemy. He swayed like a giant old tree in a storm and then fell to the ground with an earth-shaking impact.

The crowd was silent for a moment, unsure of what exactly had happened. The duels they normally witnessed were usually bloody, brutal affairs where the participants hacked away at each other till one of them dropped dead. Here there had hardly been any contact.

Then a roar went up on the ramparts and Indra looked up to see the people of Susa chanting his name. He realised that it was not their love for him, but their fear of Bhadra that gave them so much joy. He would give them something to remember and fear, he thought to himself, as he stood over the giant warrior.

Bhadra looked up at his death in the garb of a handsome young warrior. The blue eyes that stared at him were cold and hard and shone like a pair of diamonds. His opponent bent down and ripped his armour off his chest. Bhadra felt nothing as the black sword cut a hole in his chest. He continued to stare into that angelic face with a morbid fascination.

Indra looked down at the open chest of his enemy and saw his beating heart. A cry of horror ensued from the crowd as he knelt down, reached into the cavity and ripped out the heart of the Asura general. He stood up, one foot on the body of Bhadra and offered the still pumping organ to the crowd. Then he held it up high, threw back his head and squeezed the blood from it into his open mouth.

There were a few horrified looks on the faces of the Devas, but not so on Soma's. He grinned to himself as he watched the macabre ceremony; his friend had indeed put on a show nobody would forget in a hurry. The people of Susa and the Asuras would carry this tale all across the wide plains. What better way than this for a conqueror to announce his arrival.

***

Indra and Timon stood atop a hill and surveyed the land ahead. They were dressed in the garb of the desert nomads. The spy had offered his services to the Devas and in a short time made himself an integral member of Indra's war council. It had been a few months since Indra had embarked on his conquest of the Asura lands. He was under no illusions about the difficulty of the task ahead of him. Timon pointed to the southwest where, in the distant horizon, he saw the telltale puff of dust.

Sargon the Grey Wolf had under his command fifty thousand soldiers--by far the largest army in the known world. Luckily for Indra, that huge army was spread out all across his vast empire putting down various insurgencies and rebellions. For months now, the Devas had been like a little barb in his flesh. They had attacked his garrisons, looted his supply lines and generally been busy whittling down the numbers of his legions.

In his magnificent court at Assur, the emperor listened to the reports of the governors from the various provinces of his vast empire. He grew weary with the news from Sumer. The conquest of that land had brought him nothing but trouble with the constant uprisings and rebellions in its many city-states. No one man in history had ever ruled such a vast territory as he, and Sargon was beginning to see the reason why. He was in the twilight of his existence and he could not remember the last time he had known peace in his empire. His grey brow knitted in a frown as he heard of the slaying of Bhadra and of the transgressions made by Indra in Sumer and his eastern provinces. He raised his hand to stop the messenger.

'This demon that you call Indra has slain my bravest general, attacked my garrisons and nobody thought it fit to inform me.'

The messenger was an old hand; he was not fooled by the calmness of the emperor's tone. He bowed low as he chose his words carefully.

'Hiranya, Bhadra's brother, had the rebellion of Abash to take care of. He has vowed to bring you Indra's head at the end of his spear once he has put down the rebellion.'

'The rebellion shows no sign of being quelled. Perhaps it is time for me to take matters into my own hands.'

Mahisha, one of his generals, was quick to respond.

'My lord, this man is a mere fly and not worthy of your consideration. Allow me to go and squash him.'

The messenger did not want another Asura general taking this problem lightly.

'My lord Mahisha, this fly has wings, he moves with a fleet of horse-drawn vehicles. It will be hard for you to catch him in the expanse of the vast plains.'

The Asuras had not yet mastered the horse; they found it hard to get their bulk onto the back of the animal. They still preferred to fight on foot. Sargon scratched his grey beard and thought for a long while before he replied.

'I think I know of a way to clip the fly's wings. Summon the Ikshvaaku princes. It is time for them to repay the debt of their people.'

***