By the end of the day, the officers on the hunt for good vantage points reported to the king that halfway between the Paruṣṇī and Vipāsa was a place where they could position soldiers at a higher ground than the approaching enemy, which would allow for better manoeuvring. The king decided to get his men there as soon as possible.
By afternoon the next day, the surprise attack party was back. The attack had been a success! After crossing the Paruṣṇī, they had travelled about a yojana towards the north before they saw the dust and heard the approaching army’s vanguard. The party then split into two with a hundred people on fifty horses going to the left and the rest going to the right to surprise the enemy in the first part of the night, when they were getting ready to rest.
The enemy stood no chance. Their horses were cut loose so that they could not escape to get reinforcements. Total carnage ensued. The attack cavalry went into the camp on horseback and armed with spears, clubs and maces, wrought havoc among the resting soldiers. Those who managed to escape the initial onslaught were picked off by the soldiers waiting at the peripheries of the camp. The minor king of the enemy tried to put up a good fight, but he stood no chance against the skilled, attacking warriors. Within one part of the night, about eight hundred of their thousand soldiers, many officers and the king leading them were dead. The others managed to escape. The casualties on the side of the attackers were few. Such was the power of the element of surprise! Sudās’s superior intelligence as a general was already showing. Even before the battle began, the enemy had lost around one-tenth of its manpower and one of its ten kings.
Sudās had also worked along another line. Before he started from the capital city, he had sent two senior traders to secretly meet two of the minor kings in the enemy coalition. Sudās had previous dealings with these two kings who had usurped their way to their thrones. The Dasyu king, Sudās’s father-in-law, had provided them substantial material help when they were trying to overthrow the then reigning kings. The king’s message to them was clear, ‘We helped you, so it is not right that you come against me.’ The king also warned them that if they survived the battle, he would pursue them and depose them. If, however, during the battle, they deserted with their soldiers, he would reward them with kingship over some of the other minor kingdoms too. The two kings realized the danger they were in. Thus, through a combination of bribery and threats, he got them to agree to desert at a crucial moment in the battle. They arranged that when Sudās’s trumpets blew a particular tune, they should leave with their soldiers. Between them, the two kings had about one thousand and five hundred soldiers.
The problem with a coalition is that the soldiers of a particular king are loyal only to their own king and not to the coalition as a whole. Of course, Sudās was not a fool. He was sure that these two minor kings would closely watch the progress of the battle and honour the deal only if they felt that Sudās had better chances of winning. If they felt that the other side was winning, they would renege. It always pays to be on the winning side, but the unfortunate thing was that you needed to make a choice early. If you picked the wrong side, you paid heavily.
That day, Sudās’s army started transporting all its soldiers and provisions across the Vipāsa. By the end of the day, they had all arrived at the chosen battle site. The prince and the commander had surveyed the place and found it to be advantageous. All they had to do now was to wait for the enemy army. Sudās’s intelligence reported that a big part of the army was close and camping next to the northern bank of the Paruṣṇī. They were sure to face them in battle the next day.
Kaśyapa could not sleep that night. He was far too worried about the bloodshed the dawn would bring with it.
30
The Battle
When Kaśyapa woke up early the next morning, he found the camp buzzing with activity. The soldiers were preparing for battle, making sure that their armour and weapons were in good shape. One of the priests was performing some small sacrifices—first to Indra; then to Indra and Varuṇa together; then another to Varuṇa and Mitra together—to invoke the gods’ support. All the priests then queued up to bless the soldiers: ‘Be thou victorious with unwounded body: so, let the thickness of thy mail protect thee.’22
Then their bows were blessed:
With Bow let us win kine, with Bow the battle, with Bow be victors in our hot encounters.
The Bow brings grief and sorrow to the foeman: armed with the Bow may we subdue all regions.’23
And then their arrows, quiver, the horses, the transport wagons, the intoxicating drink, the soldiers’ bodies, the whip, the poisoned arrow and the armour were blessed. The incantations ended with a curse on the enemy:
‘Whoso would kill us, whether he be a strange foe or one of us,
May all Gods discomfit him. My nearest, closest Mail is prayer.’24
The king, the commander and the officers were surveying the proposed battle site to decide how to position the soldiers. The enemy army had to cross the Paruṣṇī, come southwards and to the east of the ridge, and then up the slope to reach them. The whole area was wooded and there were marshes on one side. The enemy army would be constrained to come up the slope through a clearing that was about 400 pauruṣas broad. Sudās’s army was on the west side and he would try to ensure that the battle was fought in the afternoon, so that the sun was behind them. For this, they would need to create some diversion in the morning. Even if these tactics didn’t succeed and the battle did begin in the morning, they would be at an advantage because of the height and inaccessibility of their position.
They learnt that the enemy would soon be attempting to cross the Paruṣṇī. The king sent a few archers to shoot at the first few soldiers who attempted to cross. This was to harry them so that they would start feeling the stress of the battle even before it commenced. The archers were under strict instructions to retreat the moment a few hundred enemy soldiers were across; their lives were far too precious. Sure enough, the archers were ready when the enemy started to cross. They shot at the first few rafts and managed to kill at least a hundred of the enemy’s soldiers. This was not a great loss, but it had the desired effect of lowering their morale. The moment a few enemy rafts were across, the archers retreated and assumed their positions with the rest of the army.
The commander started deploying soldiers as the enemy approached a clearing not far from where they stood. In the front, at the edge of the ridge, he positioned two hundred spearmen with their shields forming a solid wall. Just behind them were three hundred archers. Behind the archers were the infantries in ranks of a hundred each. On the southern side were two hundred and fifty cavalry soldiers. The commander was setting up a strategic offensive-defensive formation. The king also deployed fifty archers and a hundred cavalry soldiers in the thick of the forest, hidden from view. They would join the battle on a signal from the commander.
The right flank was led by Yadu himself; the middle and the left flanks were commanded by two of his trusted lieutenants. The king stood with the reserves to ensure that should any gaps begin to form, they could immediately be filled. The cavalry was commanded by its commander, and the spearmen and the archers by their captains.
Vasiṣṭha, Kaśyapa and others of the priestly class, and all the support staff like servants and cooks stayed behind at the camp. Kaśyapa suddenly realized that if Sudās lost and had to retreat, this was not such a good place to be in after all. Their retreat would be blocked by the Vipāsa and many more men would die. Of course, their rafts were ready to ferry them across, but how much time would they get before the enemy was on top of them? Kaśyapa was sure that the king, the commander and other officers were aware of this, but they must have decided that this risk was worth it to overshadow the advantages that this site offered. Also, since the armies were between the two rivers, the enemy’s retreat would be blocked by the Paruṣṇī, which was flowing in torrents. Vipāsa was a lot gentler in its flow.
It was the second part of the day. The enem
y army was approaching fast, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. They stopped short of Sudās’s men who then understood the enormity of the task that faced them. The enemy hosts stretched beyond their frontline, as far as the eye could see. The chief enemy king and the supporting kings—now eight in number—were at the front, their officers behind them. Their commander could be seen deploying soldiers to attack—a clear sign that they did not want to waste time.
Amid the royals stood the wretched old king, Turvaśa. Poor man—he had no appetite for battle but would have been forced to stand by those who had taken up his cause, even if it was against his will. Sudās and his men were taken aback to see Turvaśa. How could they fight against their own former king? But then he had abdicated and chosen to free them of their oath to be loyal to him. Now he was one with the enemy, up in arms against those who were once his own people. Sudās was now their king and it was to him that they owed their loyalty. The officers encouraged the soldiers who fell silent in obedience. Sudās gave strict orders that the old king should not be killed. By the time the enemy was ready, it was the third part of the day—just as Sudās had intended. The sun was behind them and, as the day progressed, would move further west, impairing the enemy soldiers’ vision. The enemy king and commander were obviously depending on their larger numbers and so did not care about that. After all, once the melee starts, who cares where one is facing?
The battle began with the enemy launching a volley of arrows to shield its advance towards Sudās’s position. But their archers were too far away to be effective. Sudās’s soldiers had raised their shields and his archers gathered many of the enemy’s arrows to use as ammunition. A commander to the left ordered the archers in front to fire at the charging enemy. The volley killed and wounded several men. Yet, they kept charging. Sudās’s spearmen threw their spears with great force and succeeded in killing some men at the front.
By now, the two armies were face-to-face. Sudās’s defensive line held its formation and the enemy was unable to penetrate it. Many of his soldiers died, of course, but a gap was never allowed to form. Sudās refilled these immediately. About three thousand of the enemy soldiers were engaged in manual combat with about two thousand of Sudās’s men—one could see that Sudās’s soldiers were better trained. Many soldiers were killed on both sides—but far more on the enemy side.
Sudās decided to bring out his secret weapons. The commander ordered the captain of the fifty archers hidden in the woodlands to do their work. They fired with deadly accuracy, volley after volley of arrows into the enemy ranks. When the arrows were exhausted, the hidden cavalry charged at the enemy. This did it. Even though there were only about a hundred horsemen, the way they charged unnerved the enemy soldiers so much that they fled. Their commander tried to rally them but it was to no avail.
At this moment, Sudās ordered the commander to give the signal to the turncoat kings in the coalition to do their bit. Suddenly, the two kings and their soldiers started to retreat as well. This created even more panic among the enemy army. In this confusion, Sudās’s army attacked the enemy flanks opposite them and penetrated deep into their ranks. The overall effect was catastrophic for the enemy. All their soldiers started fleeing, along with the main enemy king and the other kings. Sudās’s cavalry stationed to the right of the right flank now charged at the retreating soldiers. His foot soldiers also joined and chased the enemy towards the river. The cavalry targeted the leading enemy king first and, when they caught up with him—Kaśyapa was horrified when he heard this—they literally hacked him to pieces. All the other kings, the minor ones, except the two turncoats, were killed too. So were many of the enemy commanders and other officers. Many soldiers were also killed. The cavalry chased them up to the Paruṣṇī where there was a great scramble to jump on to a raft or directly into the river. Many soldiers drowned. The Paruṣṇī was very turbulent and it was not easy to get across. Sudās’s archers shot arrows into the river and killed many who were trying to swim across. The whole area was strewn with bodies.
Kaśyapa learnt of the events with growing horror. There were bodies all around. Men were reduced to bits of flesh and unfortunately, even though Sudās had given orders against it, Turvaśa was killed. It was a decisive victory for Sudās. When finally his cavalry and soldiers came back, they began to take count of the people killed. They estimated that Sudās had lost about one thousand five hundred soldiers, including some cavalry men and several horses. But the losses the enemy suffered were greater. Kaśyapa was saddened to hear that all the wounded enemy soldiers who could not run away were killed in cold blood by Sudās’s soldiers. No matter what you do, he thought, war brings out the brute in men.
Sudās saw to it that the wounded in his army were tended to and provided with the care and attention they needed; medicines were administered to dull their pain and help them sleep. The priests offered sacrifices to the twin Aśvinīs, the physician gods. All the dead soldiers, on both sides, were buried in communal graves. Huge pits were dug and many dead bodies were tossed in, regardless of the sides they took in battle. In death, everybody was equal. And equal would be the grief and unhappiness of the widows and families on each side.
31
Kaśyapa Talks to Yadu
Sudās now turned his attention to the enemy kingdoms, those that did not have kings after the battle. All the kings of the coalition, except the main king, were really petty rulers with small kingdoms. The main king, however, had a very large kingdom and Sudās decidedly did not want to miss the opportunity to add this to his dominions. He selected one chief member from his assemblies who was to go to the enemy kingdom with a few officers and install the most suitable of the dead king’s brothers or cousins as the new king; one who was ready to swear his loyalty to Sudās. He was clear in his instructions that no son of the dead king should be made the new king, for children are always likely to avenge the ill done to their fathers, but brothers and cousins were often not as loyal.
This new king, appointed by Sudās, would become his vassal, would have to pay a large annuity to him and acknowledge his overlordship. Sudās also had the right to appoint the chief minister of the kingdom, who he decided, would be a man from Parśuvarta. The new king’s bodyguards—about two hundred soldiers and their captain—would be chosen by Yadu from among his own men. Many important people of Parśuvarta would be allowed to move freely between the two kingdoms, own property and accumulate assets in the new kingdom. This way, these citizens from Parśuvarta would be able to ensure that the people of the enemy kingdom maintained their loyalty to their new king, and by extension, to Sudās, and also not support their new king in any rebellion that potentially surfaced at a later date.
The minor kingdoms of the coalition were to be divided between the two turncoat kings. These kings too would become Sudās’s vassals.
With planning for these transitions underway, Kaśyapa and Agastya managed to find Yadu in the right state of mind. After briefly exchanging greetings, they asked him about the murders that they were investigating. Now that they were running out of time, they had to move quickly.
Of the people who were in the northern palace on the night of Vāyata’s murder, Yadu and Dīrghaśravas were in a room that did not directly open into the quadrangle. He would have had to go out of his room and come around the veranda to enter the palace. But, of course, nothing prevented him from doing so, except that he would have been noticed by the guards.
Kaśyapa asked, ‘Sir, what do you think happened that night? We saw you and Sudās with the merchant in the gambling den that night—when did you get back?’
‘What were you doing in the gambling house?’ When Kaśyapa offered no response, he went on, ‘After some light-hearted gambling, we came back to the castle towards the end of the second part of the night.’
‘We also noticed that you were losing money and that the king, then the crown prince, was winning.’
‘Yes, normally the king gambles very skilfully, even if he is drunk. I
was also a bit drunk; I was not at my best.’
‘Did you end up owing him a lot of money?’
‘Oh yes, I did. I would have had to sell some of my property to pay the debt!’
And Kaśyapa and Agastya had thought that the stakes were not high!
Kaśyapa smiled but changed track. ‘Who do you suspect could have committed the murders?’
‘How can I say? I would say that if you examine carefully, everybody had a motive. But none of the people there that night look like murderers to me, or I wouldn’t risk sharing a chamber with them.’
Agastya said, ‘Of all the people there that night, you, the king, the merchant and Veśa were the only people who were mentally strong enough to commit these murders. You are a warrior and have seen deaths aplenty. You were the only one who had the stomach for it, in addition to a potential motive.’
‘That may be true, but why would I want to kill Vāyata or any of the others? The only motive you can lay on me is that I was doing the king’s bidding. But I am the chief of the army. I have a great future ahead of me—why would I want to risk it by murdering people, especially those of the priestly class, in exchange for some short-lived, selfish gain?’
Kaśyapa could see that he made sense. But did he come out of his room that night?
His thoughts were interrupted by Agastya’s question.
Yadu said, ‘Yes, I came out to go to the toilets and to check on the security arrangements.’
‘Did you go into the quadrangle?’
‘No.’
‘When did you come out?’
‘I think around the fourth part of the night.’
The First Aryan Page 23