Rajiv Menon -- ThunderGod (35 page)

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Authors: Rajiv G rtf txt html Menon

But one hundred and fifty mares on heat were too much even for the well-trained Deva stallions to resist. They gave way to their primal mating urge, broke through the paddock and rushed after the wild horses. The mares and the younger fillies also followed. Within a matter of moments, Indra's army had lost nearly all their horses.

Out of sight of the Deva camp, two men sat up on their mares and smiled at each other. They were identical in looks, height and build. One of them whistled shrilly, and the mares began to split into smaller groups and spread out across the plains. The Deva horses followed and were soon lost in the vast expanse.

As night fell, the Deva think-tank gathered to plan their next course of action. Just then, Timon approached with news. Indra walked away with him into the darkness. The news, as Indra had suspected, was not good. Hiranya's scouts had picked up their trail and were only two days' march away.

Usually, this would have meant nothing more than a routine shift of camp. But now, without horses, it was a completely different situation. The army that pursued them was used to long hard marches on foot, something that could not be said of the Devas. It was rumoured that the Asuras could march almost twice the distance of a regular army in a single day. On this open landscape, it would not take them long to catch up. Indra did not want to face an Asura army on foot. He turned to Timon, who looked extremely worried.

'We cannot hope to outrun them without horses, my lord!'

'And I cannot risk any more men in a battle which clearly favours the enemy.'

Timon hurriedly drew a map of the territory in the dirt.

'We can head north and make for the city of Ur. I have friends there in the resistance who will hide us. But it is also the first place they will look for us. The alternative is to head west and cross the river at the town of Umra. If we are then able to destroy the bridge, we can lose them in the forests of Aranya. I must warn you though, my lord--the forest is fraught with enough dangers of its own.'

Indra thought for a moment before he made his decision.

'I do not wish to die trapped within the walls of Ur like a rat. We will take our chances in the forests of Aranya.'

Indra issued quick orders to the men to dismantle the chariots and bury them in the loose sand. The Devas worked through the night and by dawn they were ready to march. On Timon's advice they decided to march north first and let the enemy think they were headed for Ur. They would veer off to the west later in the direction of Umra. Indra hoped the ruse would give them enough time to get to the bridge.

Miles to the southwest, in a green valley, two riders herded a bunch of horses into a box canyon. There was plenty of water and fresh grazing there for the animals--both for the mares and the Devas' warhorses that had followed them into the canyon.

***

The scout stood over the spot where the Deva camp had been a day ago. His face wore a puzzled expression. Behind him Hiranya, mace in hand, paced up and down impatiently.

'I cannot understand it, my lord. The horses left the camp first and scattered across the plains. It does not appear as if they were bearing any riders. The men seem to have left many hours later; they are headed north towards Ur.'

Hiranya roared with joy.

'Their horses have bolted. By some miracle they are on foot on the plains. I will flay them alive and hang their skins to dry from the walls of Ur.'

The Asura army set off in pursuit. Soon the tracks disappeared altogether and the scout stopped again. Something about this did not seem right to him. At first he blamed it on the wind blowing in from the southern desert, but his instinct told him otherwise. He and Hiranya, who hovered impatiently around him, climbed a hillock to get a lay of the land ahead.

From that high vantage point, the country opened out in front of them for miles. As they looked to the north, they realised that they were chasing ghosts. There was no sign of the Deva army. Hiranya screamed in frustration, grabbed the scout by his throat and was about to throw him off the hill, when a puff of dust in the distance to the west caught his attention. He let out a cry of triumph.

'They're making for the town of Umra. I have them now.'

Indra and his men had marched for two days and nights without rest and now the town of Umra was within sight. The men were exhausted and at the end of their tether. In the distance behind them they could see the dust cloud raised by the rapid approach of Hiranya's army. It was going to be touch and go. Just then, Timon arrived from his clandestine expedition into the town.

'The garrison has about a hundred men, but they do not seem very vigilant and will be vulnerable to a quick assault. The bridge has only a few guards to monitor passage.'

Indra turned to Soma.

'How many horses do we have?'

'A few more than twenty.'

'Pick twenty of the best men to ride with you and me. We will keep the garrison engaged while Atreya and Nala take care of the guards and lead the rest of the men across the bridge. Hurry!'

As Soma rushed to do his king's bidding, Indra turned to Timon.

'Hiranya and his men should be here by mid-day. Go with Atreya and Nala. I cannot ask any of the others to do this, but in case we are not at the bridge by noon, make sure you destroy it.'

Timon's eyes welled with emotion; he had served many masters in his time, but never one who always put himself on the frontline in battle. He grimly nodded his acceptance.

***

The garrison at Umra was a quiet border post that rarely saw any action. The hundred-odd men posted there were a ragtag bunch of rogues and scoundrels from the various legions of the Asura army. They were given to drinking, gambling and fighting each other to while away their long days of boredom.

It was one such dull evening within the walls. A bare-knuckle boxing match was in progress when Indra and his men killed the sentries and crashed through the gates. The Asuras quickly recovered from their initial shock at the surprise assault and went for their weapons. The Devas fought their way to the centre of the compound. Indra ordered them to adopt a defensive formation called the Lotus. Spears and shields on the outside, archers on the inside.

The enemy came at them from all directions. Indra could not help but admire the Asura strength and resilience. No matter how many fell to spear and arrow, they just kept on coming. Soon their superior numbers began to tell. Indra was forced to abandon the formation and let every man fight for himself. This was the style favoured by the enemy, and soon things started to go badly for Indra and his men. Then the situation worsened: they heard the roars of Hiranya's army as they entered the town. This gave heart to the garrison and they fought with renewed vigour.

Just then Indra heard a sound that was like the sweetest music to his ears. It was the hunting horn of Timon: the Devas had successfully made the crossing. Indra ordered his men to fall back to the bridge. It was almost noon.

Only five of them made it out of the garrison walls alive, and Indra was glad to see Soma among them. Outside the garrison they almost ran full tilt into the vanguard of Hiranya's army. They fought for their lives as they fell back through the narrow alleys of the town towards the bridge.

Hiranya spotted the handsome figure of Indra at the bridge, keeping the Asura frontline at bay. His black sword flashed in the sunlight and dispatched Asura after Asura into the river where bloodthirsty crocodiles awaited them. Hiranya screamed in frustration as the throng of his own men kept him away from his enemy.

The bridge was made of rope and wood and it was quite narrow--only three men standing abreast could cross it at a time. Indra had sent his companions across, giving Soma instructions to cut the ropes once he was on the other side.

Indra heard the call of the falcon above the din of battle; it was the signal for him to fall back. The enemy still poured onto the bridge causing it to lurch dangerously. Indra sheathed Kadaag, turned and ran for the sanctuary of the other bank. Just as the ropes creaked and parted way, Indra flung himself into the air. From the far bank, his anxious men watched in disbelief. Their king had to cover about forty feet to safety. Indra pumped his arms and legs in the air as he propelled himself across the chasm. For one brief moment he thought he had not made it; then he felt his friend's firm grip on his forearm as he hit the edge. Behind him, the Asuras on the bridge plunged into the river; into the waiting mouths of the giant crocodiles.

Soma, still holding on to Indra's arm, grinned and whispered in his friend's ear, 'There are limits, even if one is a god.'

12

They trudged for days, making slow progress as they hacked and slashed their way through the dense forest. After several days, they were confronted with a river, the waters of which were black, thick with silt and dead vegetation. Beyond the vast expanse of it, as far as the eye could see, was a marsh. Timon turned to Indra with a sigh.

'I do not know what lies beyond this river. I have been told that it is an endless wetland. It is the delta of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers.'

Indra weighed his options carefully. What lay beyond the wetlands or how far they really stretched was anybody's guess. The forest of Aranya on the other hand, though dangerous, offered them plenty of food and water. He decided they would rest there that night, and then make their way north through the forest till he found a place where they could lay low for a while. He would then find a way to obtain some horses and rebuild his army.

Though the days in the forest had been hard enough, filled with venomous serpents and ferocious wild beasts at every turn, this one night proved to be even tougher. The men were attacked by countless mosquitoes and kept awake the whole night. Indra was forced to seek higher ground away from the river just to rid themselves of these pests.

Soon the mosquitoes proved a far greater threat than they had initially perceived. A fever broke out in the Deva camp, the likes of which their physicians had never seen before. The men woke up in the night with their skin burning. Even in the thick humidity of the forest, they shivered with chills that ran through their body. Their joints began to ache, and soon they became too weak to march any more. They camped on top of a hill well away from the river and reviewed the situation. Indra and Soma were amongst the few Devas who had not succumbed to the fever.

In the middle of this crisis, the guards came to him with the news that the slave Valli had escaped from the camp. Indra, who had just received word that his commander Atreya was in a serious condition, paid little heed to the news. In a little tent that served as a makeshift infirmary, the Deva physicians struggled to save their brave commander.

Indra went into the tent to see how his commander was doing and found that Atreya had wet his bed copiously. The physician Dhanavantri saw the dark stain spread across the sheet; the soldier's urine was black in colour. The physician looked at Indra and shook his head regretfully. Atreya looked into the eyes of his king and gripped his arm tightly. His face was gaunt and his body had wasted away. Indra could see the desperate plea in his eyes; this was not the way for a warrior to die. Finally Indra felt the grip on his wrist slacken as weakness and exhaustion overcame the warrior and he drifted off to sleep. The physician informed Indra that it was unlikely that Atreya would survive the night.

Indra walked away from the camp, lost in thought, troubled by his own helplessness and inability to save his friend. A rustle among the trees brought him back to reality--he realised that he had wandered a good way away from the camp. He reached for his dagger and saw that he was not carrying one. Whatever it was amongst those trees began to come closer. He braced himself, ready to thwart an attack or take evasive action, when Valli stepped into the clearing. In her hands she carried what looked to him like the dried bark of a tree. She held it out to him and, to his great surprise, spoke to him in his own tongue.

'Take this. It will cure the fever.'

***

The desperate physicians followed Valli's instructions and boiled the bark in spring water. The bitter mixture was administered to the sick men. Dhanavantri and his team of physicians did not trust the woman entirely, so only the hopeless cases were treated first. But their fears were unfounded: by the next morning, the fever in many of the sick men had broken, and in two days, much to Indra's delight, Atreya was able to get up and walk around.

Valli's popularity now increased by leaps and bounds within the camp. She, on her part, was not at all comfortable with the excess attention, and started to cover herself with a white linen cloak. Indra caught himself staring at her on a couple of occasions. She was nothing like any of the women who usually appealed to him, yet there was something about her that was strangely fascinating. Over the next week, thanks to Valli's medicine, the death toll from the fever was kept under twenty. She had single-handedly saved the Deva army.

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