The next day, more disappointment awaited Pusan and the Lions. Khara lost to Aruna of the Wolves in the spear trials. Soma did them a favour with a brilliant display of spear fighting, which saw him defeat Aruna. So far the Falcons had won everything, and far too easily.
The stage was set for the final event--the mace trials, a weapon that was very popular with the tribe. Left with no choice, Pusan entered Atreya as his fighter. The brave Lion had only one more hurdle to cross to get his dal into the final. Vayu, of the Falcons.
The two fighters circled each other warily. Vayu had had a much easier time in the trials and won all his fights easily. Atreya's journey had been much harder, the mace was not a weapon he was really comfortable with; like Indra he favoured the sword. In spite of this, he had done well so far. His natural instincts as a fighter had helped him win a close fight with the Wolves. Now a victory would get the Lions into the final and give him a chance to challenge Indra for the championship.
Vayu went on the offensive immediately, testing his opponent with a few powerful blows before he broke away. Atreya went after him, eager for a quick victory. Restraining himself from using the slam-bang method he usually adopted, Vayu hung back, circling the arena as he kept a close eye on his opponent. He darted in and out, employing a few light blows to test Atreya's defence, but focused on conserving his strength, knowing he could use it to good effect later. Atreya's earlier bouts, coupled with the unfamiliar weight of the weapon he wielded, began to take its toll and he started to grow weary of pursuing Vayu around the arena. Impatiently he approached Vayu, who blocked the blows thrown at him with ease.
Suddenly, Vayu sprang forward and his mace came down on Atreya, who raised his own weapon to block the blow. It had all of Vayu's weight behind it and Atreya was a little late in bringing up his guard. Vayu's mace crashed through his defence, struck him on the shoulder and shattered his collarbone.
Atreya dropped his mace and fell to the ground in agony as he clutched his broken shoulder. His dream of being champion was destroyed. A tremendous roar went up among the Wolves' supporters. It was Nala who would challenge Indra for the individual championship.
***
As he had promised, the Falcons and Indra were carried up and down the arena on the shoulders of their jubilant supporters. Vasu and the entire Sabha gave them a standing ovation. The Falcons had won the Spardha, with the Wolves finishing second. It was the first time in the history of the tribe that a new dal had emerged victorious in its first outing.
Sunset did not halt the proceedings on the final day of the competition. Oil lamps were lit and the announcement was made for the final challenge to determine the individual champion. Unlike the other fights, in this one the contestants were allowed to carry weapons of their choice. Indra opted for the sword and the war club, while Nala chose to go with the more conventional sword and shield.
As the two contestants warmed up, Pusan sent word to Nala through one of his trainers, promising him two of his best horses if he defeated Indra. Nala's eyes lit up--Pusan bred the best horses in Aryavarta; he was now all the more determined to win.
The fight began and Indra attacked Nala with a fury that shocked the crowd. He rained blows on Nala's shield with his sword as well as the club. Nala slowly gave ground at the furious assault and looked for an opening in his opponent's defence. The arm that bore the shield was numb from the numerous blows it had received. Yet Indra did not let up in his offensive, constantly moving so Nala did not have a stationary target to aim at. Soon the exhausted young Wolf made his first mistake: he batted aside Indra's club with his shield as he leaned forward and thrust his sword at Indra's torso.
Indra twisted sharply. Nala's momentum carried him forward, and as the Wolf passed him, Indra turned and swung his club. The blow caught Nala square on his back. In spite of his padded armour, it knocked the wind out of him and he fell on his face in the arena. As he rose slowly, Indra rushed forward and with one mighty blow of his club, he knocked the shield out of Nala's hand.
In desperation, Nala raised his sword and struck out at Indra's head. His opponent avoided the blow easily. An exhausted Nala made one final thrust; Indra pirouetted out of the way with the grace of a dancer and tripped his opponent. As he fell to the ground, Indra put his foot on Nala's sword and tapped him on the shoulder with the flat part of his blade. There was a whoop of joy from the Falcon dugout as his teammates rushed out and hoisted Indra on their shoulders. It was finally over. Indra was the champion.
In the absence of Pusan, the previous champion, who was conveniently indisposed, Vasu presented Indra with the champion's trophy, a magnificent golden dagger with a gem-encrusted hilt. The crowd roared their approval.
Indra waited for the applause to subside before he addressed the gathering.
'Devas! My lord regent! I thank you for this honour. But before I truly become your champion there is one thing that I must take care of.'
Vasu and the crowd waited, perplexed by this announcement. Indra continued.
'The great lion Baldar still roams the marshes of the south unchecked. Only when I have killed him can I be your champion and the true son of my father.'
The crowd erupted in joy.
'Long live Indra, a worthy son of Daeyus!'
A worried Soma watched the crowd celebrate and whispered in Indra's ear, 'Was that really necessary?'
'Yes. To be their raja, it is not enough for me to be a champion. I must prove that I can succeed where their previous champion failed.'
He raised the golden dagger aloft and watched the crowd go delirious with joy.
6
It was morning in a thicket of woods that bordered the great swamp. A young man was huddled next to a small fire on which a wild hare was being roasted. Soma swatted a mosquito and cursed under his breath. It had been ten days since they had set off from one of the farms south of Aryavarta. Indra had insisted on making this journey on foot. He had also declined Vasu's offer of an armed escort and opted to only have Soma for company.
The two of them, much to Soma's distaste, had lived the last few days like savages, and Soma had woken up that morning very irritable, longing for a bath and a real bed. The swamp, a wetland formed by the great river Mittani, was full of mosquitoes and other stinging insects, not to mention giant crocodiles and venomous snakes. Over the last few days, they had combed the stinking morass for any sign of the great lion. Although they found plenty of tracks and remains of his older kills, there was still no trace of Baldar.
That day, Indra had woken up early and gone out alone. Covered from head to toe with the black mud from the swamp, he was now lying absolutely still, confident that he was perfectly camouflaged among the reeds. A deer was standing upwind from him. It twitched its tail nervously and looked up. It was a young stag that had separated from its herd to feed on the sweet, succulent grass that jostled for space among the reed beds of the swamp.
Now it paused and looked directly at Indra who did not move from his place in the reed bed. The mud did nothing for his aesthetic appeal, but it afforded protection from the mosquitoes. He waited for the deer to look away before he stealthily moved forward a few paces. Suddenly something burst out of the undergrowth on the far side. It was the biggest lion Indra had ever seen.
The deer started to run, but it was too late. One swipe of a giant paw shattered the hindquarters of the hapless creature. Even as it tried to drag itself away, a pair of massive jaws closed in on its neck. The stag was a full-grown red deer at least two hundred kilos in weight, yet--Indra was shocked to see--the great lion shook its head and tossed it around like a rag doll. Within a few seconds, it was all over. The lion stood over its kill poised to feed. Suddenly, something made it look up. Indra lay absolutely still, holding his breath and trying to keep his excitement under control. To be spotted now would mean one thing only: a swift death.
The lion looked around cautiously; something had made him uneasy. Indra shut his eyes for a few tense moments afraid his poun
ding heart would give him away. Then after what seemed to Indra an eternity, it picked up the carcass and dragged it away into the undergrowth, out of sight. Indra waited for a few minutes before he stealthily retraced his steps and quickly made his way back to the camp.
***
Soma saw Indra arrive and curled his nose in disgust.
'If only the Sabha could see you now, they'll crown you raja immediately.'
'I've found him!' Indra said excitedly, ignoring Soma's sarcasm. 'He's made a kill not far from here. This is our chance Soma, we must hurry.'
'What's our strategy?' Soma asked nervously.
'Just carry your dagger and a throwing stick and let's go. We must travel light and move fast.'
Soma held up his dagger and stick, a quizzical expression on his face.
'What are we going to do with these? Tickle him to death?'
It was nearly noon by the time they reached the spot where the lion had made its kill. It was not easy to track the beast through the wetlands, but Indra had learnt from the best. Mitra, before he had given up the consumption of meat, had been an expert hunter and tracker. As they followed the trail, Indra was glad that he had already familiarised himself with the terrain ahead. He knew exactly where the lion was headed. He had scoured this area and had discovered a spot where Baldar frequently used to feed. Now his tracks were pointing right to it. He turned to Soma and explained to him what he had in mind.
Soma could not believe his ears.
'This is your plan? You expect me to put my life on the line, when this is your plan?'
Indra smiled.
'Didn't you swear an oath or something to that effect, or have you forgotten?'
'No, I haven't forgotten, but I was thinking about battles, valour and glory. Not ending up in the belly of a lion, and that too in this stinking hellhole!'
'Don't be so dramatic, Soma. This plan is going to work. Now take the lead, and whatever you do, don't step off this trail.'
Baldar was busy with his kill under a tree in the middle of his swamp when he heard a sound. Then Soma came into view, dagger in one hand and throwing stick in the other, running at an even pace. To hide his nervousness, he was singing one of the tribe's marching songs. Behind him, Indra matched him step for step, using Soma's body to shield himself from the eyes of the lion.
When he was about fifty feet away, Soma stopped. Next to him was a pool of wet, sticky mud. There was no sign of Indra. Baldar watched the young man; he did not perceive him as a threat, not as yet anyway. Soma knew that to go closer would be to invite trouble, yet he somehow had to get the lion to charge at him. He whispered a silent prayer and threw his stick at the great beast. Soma did not wait to see the effect of his throw; he just turned and ran. The stick whirled through the air and struck Baldar right in the middle of his snout. The lion let out a roar and charged after Soma.
Indra was certain he had chosen the right man for the job. His friend was by far the swiftest runner he had seen. But even with his head start, Soma was no match for the lion as it quickly reduced the gap between them. As he sped down the narrow trail, Soma began to feel the beast's hot breath on his back. He frantically struggled to increase his pace.
The lion was almost upon him when something rose out of the mud pool next to the trail. A hand reached out and grabbed the lion's mane; it was Indra. The forward rush of the lion lifted Indra clear out of the pool. He swung himself onto the back of the beast and used his heels to dig into its haunches.
The lion let out an indignant roar and reared up on its hind legs. Indra clung to the creature's mane with one hand and with the other he reached for his dagger. As he raised the weapon, he knew he only had one chance to get this right or he and Soma would end up in the belly of the beast. He aimed for the spot on Baldar's neck where the spinal cord met the skull and drove the bronze blade in with all his strength.
Baldar roared in pain as Indra sharply twisted the weapon, severing its spinal cord. The lion stopped dead in its tracks and Indra was thrown over its head. He hit the ground hard, tumbled and rolled over to face the beast.
Baldar took a couple of awkward steps and dropped to the ground, his face only inches from that of his killer's. As the lion stared into those deep blue eyes, there was a flash of recognition. He had seen those eyes many years ago, when he was a cub. Those same blue eyes had gazed at him then with so much love and affection. Now they stared at him with the ferocity of a wild beast, as they willed him to die. Baldar, the king of the swamp, took one last deep breath and then his indomitable spirit left his body and soared to the heavens.
It was another week by the time Indra and Soma, tired and unkempt, rode into Aryavarta. They went straight to the Sabha where the weekly market was taking place. Their appearance invited curious glances from the citizens. Indra alighted at the steps of the building and lifted a huge bundle off the packhorse that he led. The onlookers began to gather around as he unfurled the bundle and revealed the pelt and head of the great lion.
Among the crowd was an old farmer who had lost his son to the beast. He walked forward and looked at the head in awe.
'It is Baldar. He has slain the great one.'
That was all the affirmation the crowd needed. The news spread like wildfire through the market as everyone thronged for a glimpse of the giant beast and its slayer. Cries of praise for Indra rent the air.
Vasu and a few members of the Sabha stepped out to see what the commotion was about. The old warrior had tears of joy as he embraced Indra.
'My boy, today you have proven to be a worthy son of your father. You will be a great raja and it will be my privilege to crown you.'
Unnoticed, Pusan had made his way through the crowd. He looked carefully at the pelt and ran his fingers through it. He soon found what he hoped he would not. Where the lion's shoulder had once been, there was a scar. It was the wound made by his spear. There was no doubt in his mind now. Pusan stood in silent rage amidst the revellers; his dream of leading the Devas appeared more distant than ever.
The pelt was hung on four poles at the entrance of the Sabha for a full week before it was sent to Mitra's hermitage as a gift to the master from his star pupil.
The next few weeks found Indra and Soma as honoured guests at the dinner tables of several prominent families of Aryavarta. Soma was made to recount the story over and over again till every man, woman and child in Aryavarta knew the tale of the slaying of Baldar by heart.
***
Over the next few years, Indra and his friends continued their martial training and, along with this, Mitra prepared them for their place amongst the nobility of the tribe. For the boys, this proved more difficult than fighting--they found things like decorum and protocol much harder to take to.
One day, watching the boys leave after training, Mitra thought about how the years had forged their friendship and loyalty to one another. It was around these warriors that Indra would build an invincible force and craft an empire such as the world had never seen.
In Indra, though, there lay something deep in the dark recesses of his mind. A dark energy that Mitra could not measure, understand or fathom. It simmered like a dormant volcano within the young man and Mitra used everything in his power to calm it. He taught the boy several meditation techniques to quell his short temper, for he knew that if the boy ever unleashed that energy without having learnt to control it, it would consume everything around him, friend and foe, without discrimination.
On some days Indra was made to stay back for his lessons on kingship. He learnt the laws of his tribe and was also given situations where he had to pass judgment without fear or favour. It was during one of these classes that, for the first time, Indra asked about the circumstances of his birth.
'Tell me Master, did you know my mother? What was she like and why did she not live with my father?'
Mitra had prepared himself for this day. 'Your father did not tell me who she was,' he said. 'I don't think he told anyone.'
'Was she of t
he northern tribes?'
Mitra shook his head. Indra was quiet for a while as his eyes slowly welled up.
'Then it is true what Pusan says, I do not deserve to be raja.'
Mitra held him by his shoulders and looked deep into those soulful blue eyes.
'My boy, your mother might not be a Deva or from any of the other northern clans, but she belonged to a race far older and more illustrious than ours. You are a gift to our people, the man who will unite our warring tribes into one great nation. I saw this in the night sky at the time of your birth. It was this that brought me back amongst your tribe. No one is more suited to lead the Devas than you and don't let anybody tell you otherwise.'
Indra's face brightened at these words.
'Then as the stars are my witness, I will not let anyone stand between my destiny and me.'
He bowed to his master and left.
That night, Mitra could not sleep, he thought long and hard about the prophecy. Part of his initiation as a seer and mystic involved learning the technique of past life regression. It was a task not recommended without the supervision of another adept, but Mitra decided that the circumstances demanded he take the risk. He decided to travel back in time and reconstruct the exact events that led up to the prophecy.
He reached into his bag and removed a little pouch that contained the seeds of the dhatura plant. He crushed it in a bowl with some warm milk and honey. Then he invoked the blessings of his master and emptied the contents of the bowl down his throat. Almost immediately the powerful narcotic began to take effect. He lay back on his reed mat and shut his eyes. As his body drifted into deep sleep, his mind began to move back through time. He saw his childhood flash before his eyes. Then the images began to move at a rapid rate as he was taken further back through several past lives till he saw himself on a small grassy mound near the shores of the Black Sea, the young chief of a tribe of savage hunters.
Rajiv Menon -- ThunderGod Page 12