The boy was worried as he hurried down the slope in the direction of the sound. This had clearly not been an acknowledgment of his call; this was a cry of alarm. The boy gripped his staff and ran through the thick fog. The last time he had heard a bull make that sound was when he was very young and it had preceded a wolf attack. Around him, he heard the cows and calves start to panic and run helter-skelter. He called out to them and was pleased to see the immediate calming effect his voice had on them.
Ahead, he heard a thud; it was the sound of a heavy body hitting the ground. The boy hesitated for one brief moment, it would be foolish to run into a pack of wolves armed with only a staff, but he was a Deva, he would never be able to face his tribe again with the knowledge that he had just stood there and done nothing to save the animals in his charge. He gripped his staff tighter. Maybe he could crack the skull of the pack leader. That might persuade the rest to leave.
Although he knew that his plan had only a slim chance of success, the boy bravely moved forward. He crouched low in the grass, straining his eyes, hoping to catch sight of the cursed beasts before they saw him. A shape loomed large ahead of him. He recognised it through the mist and tears ran down his face, it was the carcass of the lead bull.
The young man tried to control his grief and anger at the loss even as he realised something was very wrong. There was no sound of the feeding frenzy that usually followed a kill. In fact, except for the restless sounds of his herd, there was absolutely no sign of wolves.
The herdsman knelt beside the carcass and looked for any sign of the predators. There were no pugmarks--the only tracks around, other than that of his cattle, seemed human. Suddenly the young man became aware of a strange smell around him, it was the smell of blood and rotting meat. He felt something warm against the back of his neck. It was hot breath.
The herdsman turned sharply, swinging his staff, but something grabbed it and ripped it out of his hands as if it were a toy. He found himself staring into a pair of malevolent red eyes. Even as he opened his mouth to scream, a sharp pair of canines closed around his throat and tore away his windpipe, silencing him.
***
Mitra stood outside his hermitage and looked out into the mist. He had never seen anything like this in the four years they'd been at the plateau of Gandhar. It had been a few days since it had come in, and now the mist hung like a thick blanket over the entire plateau.
Mitra hated this weather. He'd barely moved out of his hut the last few days, preferring to devote the time to his meditation. Only an urgent summons from Vasu had got him out today. He whistled for his mare and leapt onto her back. As he made his way along the river, he soon spotted the dull glow of the oil lamps that told him that the settlement was near.
In the short time they had been there, Vasu had proved to be a more than capable administrator. Aryavarta, the first permanent settlement of the Devas, had been planned very well. The houses were arranged in three concentric semi-circles along the bank of the river. At the centre stood the Sabha, a sixteen-pillared wooden structure, under the roof of which the tribal council met. In front of the building was a massive clearing, at the centre of which was the sacrificial pyre. Around the clearing, tiny stalls had been erected for the weekly market. Further down river to the west were the farms and the military barracks, along with the slave quarters.
As Mitra rode through the settlement, he could see small groups of people gathered around fires in front of their homes. It was evening, and bards and storytellers had got together to sing and recount tales of valour. As he passed close to a group, Mitra caught the words of an old ballad; it was sung to ward off evil spirits. The last four years had been the most peaceful the tribe had ever known. Barring a few skirmishes with lions and wolves, there had been hardly any chance of action. He smiled as he thought to himself, 'Evil spirits! With no enemies around, that was the best thing the storyteller could come up with to scare folk!'
He guided his mare through the two rows of torches that lit the path to the Sabha's entrance.
Mitra was surprised by the silence that greeted him in the hall. Usually it echoed with light banter and idle boasts. Today, though, the atmosphere was surprisingly sombre. A young officer stood in the well of the house. He appeared tense and uneasy. As soon as he caught sight of Mitra, Vasu rose and walked across to greet him.
The last few years of inactivity were starting to tell on the old warrior: his fine robes could not conceal the belly that was starting to assume enormous proportions.
'Greetings, Master Mitra! Thank you for honouring us with your presence at such short notice.'
He ushered Mitra to a seat next to his own and turned to address the gathering.
'You may begin.'
The young officer bowed respectfully.
'I am Paras, son of Atar.'
A murmur of appreciation went through the sixteen members of the Sabha; his father had been a brave soldier and a vital member of Daeyus' army.
'I was leading the night patrol yesterday on our eastern border near the Forest of Cedars when we came upon a dead bull. On examining the carcass, I found that its windpipe had been crushed. The bite marks around the wound were unlike that of any lion or wolf.'
Paras hesitated for a moment, unsure about how to continue.
'No attempt had been made to eat or drag the carcass away either, my lords.'
Murmurs went up among the members. Mitra said nothing. He looked at the young warrior, who clearly had something more to say. He held up his hand for silence as he addressed Paras.
'So what did you do?'
Paras bowed respectfully to Mitra as he answered.
'We scoured the area for tracks. In spite of the mist, the signs were quite easy to read. Thirty head of cattle had been led away into the Forest of Cedars.'
Paras hesitated for a moment before he continued.
'The tracks were almost human, my lord.'
'Almost! What do you mean almost?' one of the members asked in a hushed voice.
The Sabha was now rife with speculation: enemy tribes, monsters, ghosts and ghouls, all manner of explanations were offered. Vasu did not like where the conversations were heading. He asked the assembly for order as he turned to Paras.
'The herdsman, where is he?'
Paras' voice choked with emotion.
'Missing, my lord. I request permission to lead a patrol into the forest to find him.'
Vasu cut him off.
'No, you have done more than anyone can ask, now leave it to us.'
Paras' eyes welled up.
'Please, my lord! I must try to save him. He is my brother, the only family I have left in this world.'
Vasu was shocked.
'Why didn't you try and find him immediately?'
Paras had tears running down his cheeks.
'Our orders were to patrol the border, my lord. The men under me are still in the reserves, they have not seen any action, and I did not want to risk their lives chasing an unknown enemy into the mist. But please, my lord, allow me now to get together a team of volunteers and look for my brother.'
Vasu and the rest of the members leaned forward to confabulate. Mitra looked at the young man, admiring how he had not let emotion sway him from his duty.
'Brave Paras, I require a saddle for my mare please. Will you see to it?'
'Right away, my lord.'
Mitra waited for the young man to leave before he turned to address the Sabha.
'With your kind permission, my lord regent, I would like a couple of days to look into this matter.'
Vasu smiled with relief. He had racked his brains as to whom he could entrust with this mystery. He could not have come up with a better choice.
'My lord, my elite guard is at your disposal.'
Mitra smiled. 'I will need only Paras.'
A perplexed Vasu signalled to the guard. In a moment, Paras rushed in, his face flushed with excitement. Mitra turned to him.
'Go gather your weapons and a co
uple of days' supplies for the two of us and wait for me outside.'
Paras eagerly ran to do his bidding. Vasu adjourned the Sabha. As the members left one by one, he turned to Mitra.
'A word with you, my lord, before you leave.'
Mitra sat down as the rest of the members wished him well and left. When they were alone, Vasu turned to him.
'Master, three years ago you asked me to declare the Forest of Cedars on our eastern border out of bounds for our people. What exactly was it that you saw there? You did not explain then.'
Mitra thought back to that bright summer's day. He had been on one of his exploratory missions around the plateau. None of the Deva patrols had ventured that far east yet. He had ridden into the Forest of Cedars and, almost immediately, sensed something strange about the place. There'd been an almost foreboding silence within it: none of the usual birdcalls and cries of animals; in fact, there had been no signs of life.
A half-day's ride later, the forest started to slope downwards into a deep valley shrouded by mist. As Mitra slowly started down the steep incline, he heard the cry of a deer. The animal seemed mortally wounded.
Mitra made his way in the direction of the cry and came upon the deer lying on the forest floor, bleeding from a wound on its neck. The hunter was nowhere in sight. As the mist slowly rose, enveloping him and the dead animal, Mitra cast his awareness around into the valley, seeking out any presence or aura.
It came to him like a reeking smell--a strong, malevolent presence. It seemed to be all around him, watching his every move. Then he heard a voice in his head; there was no mistaking the menace in its tone.
'Stay away, stranger. This is our land.'
Mitra had looked around, but all he could see was the rapidly rising mist.
'My lord! Is everything all right?' Vasu's voice brought Mitra back to the present.
The seer got to his feet quickly.
'Yes, my lord regent! I have no answers for you right now, but I intend to find them. Now, I shall take your leave.'
***
There was an hour or so still left to daylight when Mitra and Paras found themselves standing on the banks of a stream. They had ridden hard through nearly zero visibility. Both Paras and his horse knew their way through the mist and Mitra had been glad to follow the younger man's lead. Across the stream, now hidden behind thick layers of fog, lay the forbidding Forest of Cedars.
Mitra alighted and knelt on the bank. He could see the tracks of the cattle leading into the stream.
'I think it would be best that we wait for first light.'
'As you wish, my lord.'
The two men tethered their horses and sat down under a tree. Mitra could see that Paras was anxious, but he did not want to give the young man any false hopes regarding his brother. Weighing his words carefully, he said, 'If they haven't killed him earlier, they are not going to do it now.'
'I pray to all the gods that you are right.'
Paras knew it was unlikely his brother was still alive, yet he preferred to let hope guide him on this quest, rather than vengeance.
'Well, they have thirty head of cattle to butcher. That will take some doing. Now get some rest.'
Mitra stretched out under the tree and immediately fell asleep.
Early the next morning the two men broke camp quickly and were soon across the stream on the narrow trail that cut through the forest.
As they ventured deeper into the forest, the mist thickened and soon it was dark as night. Paras shivered as he felt a chill in the air. Next to him, Mitra was a dark shape on a horse. He gripped his lance tightly; Mitra had asked him to leave behind his armour and shield before they set off, and now he felt strangely vulnerable.
As they approached the point where the forest floor began its steep incline, Mitra asked Paras to slow down. They stood on the lip of the slope and peered down, again Mitra got wind of that strange malevolent presence. Even Paras' uninitiated mind seemed to sense something. He spat on the ground in disgust.
'The air in this place reeks of evil, my lord.'
The sound of something crashing through the branches behind made both men turn around sharply. On the forest floor lay the corpse of a young man. Paras cried out in shock as he recognised his brother. All the blood seemed to have been drained from his body.
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 n
o 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.
Rajiv Menon -- ThunderGod Page 8