Free Rajiv Menon -- ThunderGod by Rajiv G rtf txt html Menon

age, dropped their weapons in exhaustion and requested to be relieved.
    Susena watched Mitra in action, resentment simmering in him as Ishtar fed his insecurities. In the old days, priests had been highly respected and feared in their tribal society. King and commoner alike consulted them in the all-important decisions of life. Daeyus, however, had shown a scant disregard for priests and all their rituals and divinations, and the Devas had followed his lead and slowly begun to turn away from them. Susena knew that with Indra on the throne, Mitra would be his advisor on all matters concerning the divine, and there would be no place for the high priest in the scheme of things.
    Ishtar let these thoughts fester along with the constant reminder of the threat Indra posed to the survival of his tribe. She had underestimated Mitra again; his announcement at the birthday celebrations had been a political masterstroke. Now Ishtar would have to make sure that this egotistical ass that was under her control proceeded with extreme caution.
    Indra, now old enough to crawl, was a child with boundless energy. The slightest chance he got and he would be off, chasing butterflies, beetles or any other form of creepy crawlies. If these unfortunate creatures happened to get caught, they found their way into his mouth very quickly. A worried Mahisi employed a small army of young slave girls to watch over him and he in turn made sure he kept all of them busy.
    One of these girls had caught Susena's fancy. He now watched as she finished her duties and made her way through the camp. Unlike the other girls, she did not head straight back to the slave encampment but followed one of the streams in the opposite direction where it disappeared behind a circular formation of rocks. Susena made a mental note to himself that this one would bear watching.
    The young girl entered the stream near the rock formation, still clad in her dirty, knee-length tunic. She dived into the water and made her way through an opening in the rocks. As she came up for air she was within the circle in a still, deep pool. This place offered her total privacy. She swam to a ledge and took off her tunic. A cloth was tightly wrapped around her chest, which she now proceeded to take off hurriedly.
    Basit let out a deep sigh as the last bit of cloth was unwound, and her perfectly-shaped breasts emerged. She massaged them gently to allow the blood to circulate. This deception, though painful, was necessary. She had started her moon sickness over a year ago, yet she had cunningly concealed it from everyone. Even the unusually sharp eyes of Mahisi had not been able to detect anything.
    Every month she gritted her teeth and bore the severe cramps, showing no outward signs of any discomfort. Her childhood was the only shield protecting her from the inevitable fate that awaited every beautiful slave woman. If her secret were discovered, Basit knew that the very men who now joked with her and laughed at her antics would turn on her like a pack of wolves. She hated her breasts and the fine down of hair that was now growing between her legs. She lay back on the ledge and allowed the sun to soak into her honey-coloured skin. These were the only few moments she got to enjoy being a young woman, and she was going to make the most of it.
    She closed her eyes and thought about her days as a child, in her land along the banks of the great river Nile. She had been one of the privileged girls who had been selected as initiates to the temple of the great goddess Isis. She remembered the first few years she had spent in the temple, days filled with play and lots of religious study. Until the day the arrival of an army of horsemen had turned her perfect little world upside down.
    Basit had watched from a little hiding place behind the altar as these men rushed into the sanctum sanctorum with drawn swords, showing utter disregard for the sanctity of the temple. The priestesses were rounded up and raped