‘How did my poor son die? I have nobody to perform my funeral rites now. I cannot produce another son at my age.’
Menakā, upon hearing this, said gently in deference to the others, ‘I think you have had enough.’
The meal ended with a grand course of dessert. After this, the servants brought in earthen vessels with warm water for the guests to wash their hands. The dining hall was then vacated to be used to serve the officers, merchants and head servants, subsequently followed by subordinate soldiers and servants. Any food left over after the feast would be given to the beggars who stood at the castle gates every morning.
After dinner, the king, the guru and the women retired for the night, while Jaraduṣṭra and Vāyata went to their room to meditate and, later, sleep. Sudās, Dīrghaśravas and Yadu went to the city to drink and gamble in the dens, and the students went out for a walk. Veśa stayed back in the palace, going from room to room, making sure that everyone was comfortable.
The rooms were set around a middle quadrangle. The north-west corner of this quadrangle was an open space where one could watch the sky. All the rooms in the palace, except the ones in which Dīrghaśravas and Yadu stayed, were accessible only through the quadrangle. The ledges around the quadrangle were supported by four pillars, one in each corner. These pillars had big lamps affixed to them, which would remain lit through the night—the bright light from them would allow people to watch their step when they came out of their rooms since they were unfamiliar with the layout of the palace. The officers, soldiers, servants and the castle’s resident staff lived in quarters outside the palace, in the castle courtyard. There were a lot of people there that night . . .
*
As Kaśyapa and Agastya walked around the city, they saw Sudās, Dīrghaśravas and Yadu going towards the gambling den owned by the merchant. The two boys followed them inside. If the people in the gambling house were surprised to see two boys from the priestly class coming in, they did not show it. Instead, they paid their respects to the prince. The gambling house had one large floor with lots of tables where dice games were played.
Most of the customers seemed to be regulars. Kaśyapa felt a wave of pity at the sight of those who had become addicted to gambling and, presumably, lost a lot of their possessions. Most of them would have had families to feed. He was sure that this habit of theirs was a constant cause of quarrel at their homes. He had heard that once somebody got addicted to gambling, there was no escape—the dice were like a draught of soma. People play and lose money each day but return the next day with the idea that with one game they would get back all the money they had lost, even though it could never have happened. There was a saying in the kingdom: the king taxed the rich to give to the poor and the gambling houses lured the poor into returning that money to the rich. In turn, the king taxed all gambling houses very heavily. Of course, many a rich man too became poor at those dens—sly social levellers!
Kaśyapa asked, ‘Agastya, why do people gamble?’
‘Well, if I knew the answer to that I would be a guru, not a student! A gambler could just be somebody looking for an easy way to becoming rich, but it is the riskiest way known to do so. It is difficult to gauge why people would continue to indulge in a losing game.’
The door to the gambling den was guarded by heavily-built guards who had the power to refuse entry even to the most powerful nobles. The accepted norm was that everyone who entered the gambling hall was equal. All that mattered was whether they had gold or wealth to put at stake. There were many people on vigil walking around to curb trouble before it aggravated since surā and soma flowed like water, and when people were drunk, they were easily distracted and cheated, and often, if they lost money, they would cause trouble.
In this den, one could either play against the house, or play against each other through the house, which meant they could not play each other directly. The dice were always manipulated to favour the house. Even where the customers played against each other, the powerful gamblers would bribe the house to load the dice in their favour. The poor suckers, the gamblers, were allowed to win on rare occasions to give them the feeling that the odds were evenly stacked. There were always the clever gamblers who spotted how the dice were loaded and then bet accordingly—these people were not welcome in the den and would either be threatened to keep away or, if they were very powerful, would be bribed not to come back.
The house also ran betting tables where one could bet on events— from whether or not it would rain the next day to who would win a battle, who would be killed in battle and other such things. One of the hottest events to bet on at the time was the sex of Sudās’s unborn child. There was even a lottery where everybody would put money into a pool and, based on some scheme to choose a winner, one of them would get all the money, with the house taking a cut of course. If there was another scheme to have a foolish man part with his money, this den was sure to have that as a game. The only game which was actually legal according to the king’s law was dicing—indeed, the king occasionally indulged in dicing himself.
When Kaśyapa and Agastya walked in, there was an officer from the king’s tax department there. He was talking loudly and saying that he wanted to shut down all games except dicing. ‘They are illegal and I will bring this to the notice of the prince!’ he was ranting in his drunken stupor. People knew that he was just trying to throw his weight about and so, had stopped their games and were sitting quietly, waiting for him to leave. But he was not one to leave easily. He was an honest person, he said, and wanted to ensure that only legal activity went on. Obviously, he had not seen that the prince and the commander were there. If Sudās and Yadu heard this officer, they did not show it.
The manager of the den did not seem to be worried. Apparently, this was a drama that played out once or twice every month. He called the officer, took him to a room further inside the den and made him ‘see reason’ by telling him that the prince and the commander were also in the den and that he needn’t worry. Normally, Kaśyapa imagined, a hefty bribe must have been given to silence him. But today that could not be done.
The officer sobered up a little and came out looking worried. He went straight to the prince and paid his respects. The prince and the guru knew, the way Kaśyapa knew, that some of the king’s officers were corrupt, but unlike him, they chose to look the other way if the efficient officers were trying make a little extra money. You cannot survive as a king if you are not practical. It was clear that ‘honest’ officers like this one could be persuaded with a bit of lucre, but he would also ensure that the king received taxes even from the illegal profits the den made. This was why the prince tolerated him.
The prince said, ‘You are a good officer. Keep that up.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ the officer responded.
On one of the tables, Agastya saw a man sitting alone, looking very despondent. He obviously had lost a lot of money and did not have any more to continue playing. He was lamenting his fate and saying:
Sprung from tall trees on windy heights, these rollers transport me as they turn upon the table.
Dearer to me the die that never slumbers than the deep draught of Mujavan’s own Soma.
She never vexed me nor was angry with me, but to my friends and me was ever gracious.
For the die’s sake, whose single point is final, mine own devoted wife I alienated.
My wife holds me aloof, her mother hates me: the wretched man finds none to give him comfort.
As of a costly horse grown old and feeble, I find not any profit of the gamester.
Others caress the wife of him whose riches the die hath coveted, that rapid courser:
Of him speak father, mother, brothers saying, “We know him not: bind him and take him with you.”15
Still do the dice extend his eager longing, staking his gains against his adversary.16
Play not with dice: no, cultivate thy corn-land. Enjoy the gain, and deem that wealth sufficient.
There are thy cat
tle there thy wife, O gambler. So this good Savitar himself hath told me.
Make me your friend: show us some little mercy. Assail us not with your terrific fierceness.
Appeased be your malignity and anger, and let the brown dice snare some other captive.17
Agastya thought to himself that one would presume that this gambler, who seems to be lamenting his loss and his fate, would follow the good god Savitṛ’s injunction. But no, tomorrow, he would be back here with money begged, borrowed or stolen from someone. How cruel fate can be!
The only hope for an addicted gambler, it seemed, was to either run away to some distant land to carry on with his addiction without consequences, to start life afresh or to commit suicide.
*
The prince and the commander were given special tables where they played dice with some of the most important people in the gambling house. Kaśyapa and Agastya watched them from a few tables away. They could see from their body language that Sudās was winning and Yadu was losing—but then, could Yadu have dared to defeat the prince? They could guess that the stakes were not very high because the two looked fairly relaxed.
Dīrghaśravas did not play. He was just watching the proceedings. He probably didn’t play because he owned the den.
The people at the gambling den were drinking a lot of liquor that night. Some of them said that this made them feel strong and invincible. To Kaśyapa, they simply looked drunk and silly. They say that the more you drink the more removed from reality you become and the easier it becomes to lose track of what is at stake.
This, even this was my resolve, to win a cow, to win a steed;
Have I not drunk of Soma juice?18
Agastya walked over and struck up a conversation with Dīrghaśravas, while Kaśyapa bumped into the manager of the den.
The manager asked Kaśyapa, ‘What are you students doing here? Are you allowed in here?’
‘Well, we came to see what not to do in life. After all, we should understand that too.’
The manager laughed. ‘I agree. You should have exposure.’
‘You must be making a lot of profit compared to other places? I can see that this place is full.’
‘Yes, we are among the most profitable of Dīrghaśravas’s dens. This place has a big floating population. Many of these people are our regulars.’
‘I heard that there is another gambling den here, owned by one of the merchant’s rivals.’
‘Yes, there is. It was doing well till some time ago, but not as well as us.’ He chuckled and added, ‘I think Dīrghaśravas got somebody to perform a sacrifice and cast a spell on the rival merchant!’
*
They got back towards the middle of the second part of the night. Though Kaśyapa fell asleep immediately, it wasn’t sound sleep. Suddenly, he woke up and realized that the door to their room was ajar and the light mounted on the pillar nearest to them was spilling inside. He thought he heard a noise and immediately sat up. To his surprise, he saw a figure coming towards one of the rooms from across the quadrangle. He saw it moving towards Vāyata’s room, where somebody was standing in the doorway. They were talking to each other. Kaśyapa knew that he hadn’t slept for very long.
Though they were whispering, the figure in the doorway was audible in the silence of the night. ‘I do not perform esoteric practices. You know that. With Kutsa, I took it on as a challenge.’
The other person said, ‘Liar! Veśa said he saw you performing an esoteric sacrifice the morning Atharvan was killed.’
‘That was needed! It was for a good reason.’
And then Kaśyapa knew! The conversation at the doorway went on, but he was not listening. Eventually, the figures also moved away from the doorway, out of earshot for Kaśyapa. He may just have been correct in his suspicions! He knew who the murderer was! He woke Agastya up with a nudge and told him in whispers what he had seen and heard.
Agastya said, ‘So, if that was indeed him, it was he who had conducted esoteric practices to achieve objectives which he thought were “for the larger good”.’
‘Yes. I think that is what brought ill fate upon Atharvan and Kutsa!’
‘So, are you saying . . . ?’
‘Yes. I think the common link between the two deaths is esotericism! I feel both the deaths may just have been unintentional.’
‘How so?’
‘Atharvan died possibly because he accused this person of performing esoteric practices. But he is not supposed to do them—he had announced that he had given up on them.’
‘Yes. Remember, Atharvan also insulted this person when he and his guru had come to meet our guru at our ashram.’
‘Yes. That is correct.’
‘But how did he get Atharvan to come outside the gate? And how did he manage to drug him?’
‘Ah, we may have to speculate a bit there. He may not have intended to kill Atharvan; he may have just wanted to teach him a lesson. Maybe he simply challenged Atharvan to counter his esoteric spell or fight the effect of some hallucinogen. He was talking about a challenge with Kutsa as well. Maybe he did the same thing with Atharvan too—the challenge must have been meant to intimidate him, similar to the challenge between Vāyata and Bhārgava—whose spells are more powerful. Remember that Atharvan was one of his prominent challengers from Indra’s side while it was just him from the Varuṇa’s side.’
‘It must have been him who our guru mother saw that morning following Atharvan. And he also knew that if he was recognized, he could tell them what he told us: that he was going to meet the ostracized community of people.’
‘Yes. It has to be. But where did he get the herbs?’
‘That could not have been difficult. He could have bought it off some of the herb-sellers. And when they met outside the gates, he would have seen that Atharvan was completely under the influence of the drugs. He must have challenged Atharvan to come out of the spell, who was unable to do so and possibly tripped and fell into the water face-down. Not realizing the gravity of the situation, he may even have tried to help. He thought Atharvan would be able to get up himself. But since Atharvan’s senses were dulled by the drug, he may not have been able to lift his head up. This must have been a great shock for him, which is why he must have run away and not spoken to anyone about it. The only way I can imagine this happened is this way.’
‘I agree this seems most plausible. However, why did he not tell his guru about this misfortune at some point of time?’
‘Maybe he did, we don’t know. We can ask the guru tomorrow. But remember that some of the witnesses saw him performing some esoteric sacrifice outside the gate. Though we don’t know for sure, I think it could have been to expiate for the sin of having killed Atharvan. He would surely have felt relieved of the burden after performing the sacrifice.’
‘But does Varuṇa religion not criticize the custom of offering sacrifices? Don’t they say that you have to suffer the consequences of your wrongdoings?’
‘They do, but old habits die hard. He may have found refuge only in the old practice that he had learnt as a student. In his mind, he was doing a good thing, after all.’
‘And of course, we must remember that he was also spotted coming back from the rivulet that morning.’
‘Yes. That adds to the weight of the case against him.’
‘What about Kutsa?’
‘Well, Kutsa’s death also seems to be unintended. It would have helped his cause if the queen was on their side, for which they needed Kutsa to convert. As long as the boy remained under the care of the prince, I assume it was not easy to inculcate dissident ideas into his head from a distance. Maybe he adopted ways that could give him access to the boy, like participating in challenges to influence his innocent mind. The ostensible reason was to see who could influence him more, when, of course, the real reason was probably to get him on his side.’
‘And his rival simply fell for the ploy?’
‘Seems like it. Of course, he will never accept that he was bein
g used.’
‘How do you think the boy died then?’
‘When he was alone with the boy, he may have tried to change the boy’s mind using some spells, or drugged the boy to strengthen the effect of his influence over him. But I think this is where he overplayed his hand. The dosage of herbs he added to the milk might have been too much for the young boy.’
‘But nobody seemed to have seen him visiting the boy that day, except Veśa. And, of course, he himself also denied going there.’
‘I think they are all lying. The queen does not want it to be known that he was trying to convert the boy under the pretence of educating him. And Bhārgava knows that he was not supposed to take him into the boy’s room. So, they had to lie. And remember, in addition to Veśa, the guard was certain that he had come in.’
‘It is possible that he did not even know that the boy had died. He may have thought that he had fallen asleep and must have learnt of his death only later. Remember, the official line was that the boy’s death was accidental. He may even have assuaged the prick of his conscience by believing the physicians’ statement.’
‘You are right. What you say does make sense. Suppose it is he who is the murderer, what should we do?’
‘Tomorrow, we can meet the prince and our guru, and explain our conclusions to them. Once we get their approval, we confront him.’
‘What do you think he will do? What will be his punishment?’
‘The prince may not interfere in this matter given his social standing. He will probably leave it to Guru Vasiṣṭha to decide, who, in turn, I think will ask Jaraduṣṭra to punish him. Jaraduṣṭra would ideally prescribe a very tough penance; I daresay his position is in danger.’
Agastya shuddered. ‘I cannot believe he could do this.’
‘Who else can we see having both motive and opportunity?’
‘What did the person talking to Vāyata—was it not Bhārgava—have to do in Jaraduṣṭra’s chambers at this hour?’
‘Maybe Guru Vasiṣṭha sent him to talk to them about something and they got into an argument.’
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