Rajiv Menon -- ThunderGod (5 page)

Daeyus watched him wearily. He had no patience for the high priest; he thought the man was a preening peacock who loved the sound of his own voice. He hoped the fool would hurry up so they could get on with the real celebrations.

Susena addressed the gathering in his deep voice, commanding attention.

'Devas, we are gathered here today to give thanks to Surya for delivering our raja safely back to us.'

A thousand voices rang out in praise for the sun. Susena waited for the excitement to subside. For all his vanity, he was a brilliant orator; he knew exactly how to hold an audience.

'The raja also filled my heart with rapturous delight by informing me of a new arrival to our clan. His son, your future king, Indra.'

The crowd erupted with joy at this announcement and began to press forward to get a better look at the baby. Rumours had abounded in the camp about the arrival of a mystery child; the official confirmation now drove them wild. Daeyus went up to the cradle, picked up his son and held him aloft for his subjects. The deafening roars of the crowd could be heard for miles.

Susena tried to restore order but in vain. Finally he called at the top of his voice.

'Let the sacrifice be presented.'

A quiet descended on the crowd as a giant, black bull was brought forward. The Devas were connoisseurs of cattle; it was the main unit of currency and the only true measure of a man's wealth and power in their society.

This bull was truly magnificent, standing at least six feet above the ground at its shoulders. Its coat of ebony shone with the radiance of health; it was lean in the flanks while its shoulders and haunches were bunched with heavy muscle. Daeyus looked into the creature's eyes; there was no fear in them, only a mild curiosity at all the fuss. It did not cower like sacrificial creatures usually did, but stood tall and proud, chewing on its cud and gazing at the open country beyond the camp. Daeyus summoned his master herdsman.

'This creature is not from our herds. Where did you find it?'

'This, my lord, is a fighting bull from Harappa,' the herdsman announced proudly. 'I have been grooming him for years, for an occasion such as this. He is truly a sacrifice meant for a great king.'

The raja and his subjects watched with interest as the bull was solemnly led to the altar. Susena began the incantations invoking the sun to accept the sacrifice. Four robust young men tried to force the head of the animal down onto the chopping block. The bull let out a loud bellow and shook its mighty head; the four men were thrown off the altar into the enthralled audience.

The crowd was highly amused as more men scrambled onto the altar to control the beast. The bull kicked out with its powerful hind legs. One of its hooves caught a man under his chin, snapped his neck clean and threw him back like a rag doll, into the now worried crowd. The other men on the altar slowly backed away.

The executioner, a pot-bellied giant of a man, dropped his axe and nearly wet himself in fright. Clearly, this was something he was not used to. A sacrificial animal fighting back--it was unheard of. The bull turned sharply towards him and one of its needle-sharp horns raked him across the belly, laying it open. He fell to the ground with his entrails spread all around him, screaming and writhing in agony.

Nobody in the crowd was laughing now. They watched horror-struck as the bull now turned around looking for an escape route. Standing directly in its path was the cradle with Indra in it. Daeyus leapt across from his throne to land directly between the bull and his son's cradle. The animal lowered its head and pawed at the earth with its front hooves. Daeyus stood his ground, his eyes locked into those of the beast.

For one brief moment they stood motionless, studying each other. Then the bull snorted, steam billowing from its nostrils, lowered its giant head and charged. Daeyus crouched low as he braced himself to grab the creature's massive horns. At the very last second, the animal swerved to a side and ran off through the crowd into the wilderness beyond the camp.

The raja restrained his huntsmen from chasing down the animal. The mood at the camp was now sullen, the festive air gone, replaced by a certain sense of foreboding. Susena and the priests huddled together in a corner and whispered to each other. Daeyus returned to his quarters, issuing orders that he was not to be disturbed.

After his long deliberations with the other priests, Susena lay in his tent, deep in thought. The sacrifice had not been completed and Deva blood had been spilt on the altar--the omen did not bode well for the tribe. Susena shut his eyes and sighed deeply, perhaps the next day would present a solution.

As he drifted off to sleep, he heard a sound. He was instantly awake, listening. The tinkling of tiny silver bells caught his attention, followed by a giggle. The voice was young, high-pitched and so sweet that it tugged at even Susena's cynical old heart.

He sat up, startled. Standing at the entrance of his tent was a vision of such rare beauty that it took his breath away. She was no more than sixteen, her skin the colour of wild honey. Around her waist, she wore a silver feather on a chain to cover the area where her smooth, sleek legs met. Her long, raven hair was straight and shiny and thrown in front of her shoulders. It did a very bad job of concealing her well-formed breasts. Susena struggled to avert his gaze from them and look her in the eye. Even as she bowed, her green eyes never left him.

'I am sorry I startled you, my lord.'

Susena's voice was hoarse with desire, and he struggled to muster some authority into it.

'Who are you? How dare you come in here unannounced?'

She walked towards the bed, her hips swaying rhythmically with each step. The silver feather hanging from her belly shifted and Susena's breath caught in his throat. He could not trust his voice any longer.

The girl came up and sat beside him. Her eyes were like that of a tigress, appraising her victim.

'I'm a gift, your holiness. Honour me with your acceptance.'

Her manner was so coquettish the high priest could not contain himself any longer. His breathing became hoarse and he made a clumsy grab at her breasts. She laughed as she pushed his hands away.

'Patience, my lord. Allow me the pleasure of pleasuring you.'

She reached under his robe and slid her hand up his thigh, running her fingers lightly across his flesh. He felt a shudder run through his body as her fingers reached their final destination, and he fell back on the bed in complete surrender.

Susena had never experienced anything like this before. The women he usually had were whimpering slave girls who did everything he ordered out of fear for their lives. While he enjoyed the power and control he had over them, this was something else altogether. She pushed his flimsy night robe away, bent down and slowly licked the length of his shaft, not taking her eyes off his face.

Susena grabbed a pillow and bit into it to stop himself from crying out loud. It would not do for the men to hear the high priest scream like a rutting animal. She laughed as she slowly strode him like a horse. She took off her belly chain and laid the silver feather on his chest. He looked at her, nearly delirious with joy, as she lowered herself on to him. Susena felt her delicate flesh tear as he entered her; she let out a sharp cry, further adding to his pleasure. She began to move, slowly at first. Then her hips began to find a rhythm of their own. Susena moaned with pleasure.

She gradually increased the pace and he felt his belly tighten as he began to gasp. She grabbed him by his neck and drew him towards her. Susena marvelled at her strength; he opened his mouth to scream as he reached the pinnacle of his orgasm. She tightened her muscles and drew his seed into her. His mouth opened in ecstasy, and she pressed her mouth against his and breathed deeply into it. Her breath was as sweet as her appearance. Susena's body convulsed several times in pleasure and then was still.

***

As the night wore on, in his royal tent, the raja was unable to sleep. He stepped outside and the crisp night air immediately made him feel better. He asked Mara to saddle up his steed. The squire returned leading the horse and Daeyus rode out into the night alone. As he thought about the events of the evening, he was overcome by a sense of apprehension. The gods had refused to accept his sacrifice . . . this had never happened before.

The ground ahead broke into a gully formed by a dry stream. As he neared it, he saw a pack of wolves and vultures ravaging a carcass. He slowed the stallion to a walk, not wanting to disturb the feeding frenzy. As he approached, he recognised the massive carcass. It was the sacrificial bull.

***

It was early in the morning when Susena awoke. The events of the previous night felt almost like an eminently pleasurable dream. He felt something on his chest: it was a silver chain with a feather pendent. Susena smiled in satisfaction, the reason for the failure of the sacrifice had come to him in a dream; he was amazed at the clarity he now possessed. He called out to one of his attendants and asked him to seek an immediate audience with the raja.

Daeyus sat up in his throne as he prepared to receive the high priest. He had been unable to sleep a wink the whole night.

'What does that pompous ass want so early in the morning?' the weary raja thought to himself.

As Susena walked in, Daeyus noted that the priest was not his usual self. While he was decked in his usual finery, he was not wearing white, the symbol of his priesthood, but a robe of blue. He seemed nervous, trembling with excitement.

'Greetings, Susena. What brings you here this early in the day?'

Daeyus used his name and not the formal title of address for the high priest, letting the man know that he expected this intrusion of his privacy to be for an issue of paramount importance. He noticed that the high priest was nervously fidgeting with something around his neck. It was a finely worked silver feather.

Susena bowed low.

'I would never dare to commit this transgression if the situation did not demand it, my lord. I request that you lend me a patient ear as you might not like to hear some of the things I have to tell you.'

Daeyus nodded impatiently, asking him to continue. Susena now chose his words very carefully.

'My lord, sometimes in our ignorance as mortals we commit certain acts, the repercussions of which can have a terrible impact on humanity.'

He hesitated for a moment.

'For god's sake, stop beating around the bush and say what you have to say,' Daeyus cut in impatiently.

The words now blundered out of Susena's mouth. A high-pitched quiver replaced his normal deep baritone.

'My lord, the child you think is your son is actually a demon. He will be responsible for the destruction--'

Daeyus did not let him finish. He leapt off his chair, grabbed the man by the throat and lifted him off his feet.

'One more word and you die.'

He flung him across the tent. Susena hit the ground and once again started to protest. Daeyus drew his sword and advanced menacingly towards the high priest. The words froze in Susena's throat. He abandoned all dignity and scrambled on all fours for the door.

The arrival of Krupa saved the high priest from further harm.

The commander had an urgent message, he said. 'Lord Mitra of the Aditya clan has just arrived at the camp and requests an immediate audience.'

Susena took the opportunity to make good his escape. Daeyus sheathed his sword and hurriedly ordered arrangements to be made to receive his honoured guest.

Raja Mitra was a legend among the warriors of the northern tribes. Once a great chief of the Aditya clan, he was renowned as much for his wisdom and counsel as his skill in warfare. Daeyus remembered how he had led a mercenary army in the siege of the Sumerian city-state of Ur.

The night before the battle, Daeyus, then a young captain, had watched the raja ride alone to the top of a hillock that overlooked the city. Out of concern for the safety of his general, Daeyus had followed him at a safe distance.

On top of the hillock sat a man with matted hair piled high on top of his head and ash smeared all over his body. He had the appearance of a sage, but his body was built like that of a warrior in peak condition. Daeyus watched from a distance as Mitra bowed down to the man, who raised his right palm and placed it above the general's head. A bolt of blue energy emerged and entered Raja Mitra's head.

As the battering rams of the mercenary army broke down the mud brick walls of Ur, Mitra led the cavalry in a triumphant dance of death and destruction through the city. He slew scores of Sumerian warriors and made his way to the centre of the city to the magnificent temple of Baal, the patron deity of Ur. A god with an insatiable appetite for human sacrifice.