‘To protect this land and its people.’
Gopa smiled. ‘The accursed West?’
‘Do not Aryans live there, too?’
‘What man condemns, man will not protect.’
‘The Maharajah sent his son here.’
‘Do you wish to protect him?’
‘You know, do you not, that Prince Sumana was supposed to be the army commander?’
‘The Maharajah has sent Prince Ashoka.’
‘But the gods will denounce and ruin this land if Sumana is not appointed as the rightful viceroy! Do you think that they will allow a Prince who scorns the gods and their sacrifices to become the king? He, who does not honour the sacrifices, will bring misfortune to the land. My curse is capable of destroying this land. Obedience to the Brahmins, or else …’
‘But if the priest demands what is impossible?’
‘Do you wish to be the judge of that?’
‘No. And yes, if I am to be the sacrifice.’
‘You are not to judge the priest’s decision. If you do, then your next life will bring so much misery that any sacrifice made now would appear preferable.’
‘I have refused the sacrifice that a priest asked of me.’
‘You should not have been allowed to refuse even if it was your life that he had asked.’
‘He did ask for my life, because my husband had paid twice as much to the priest if I were to die with him on the funeral pyre. Prince Ashoka saved me at the last moment.’
‘Prince Ashoka has thrown you into perdition! He had no right to interfere in a sacred ritual.’
‘Do you mean …’
‘The Prince was an army commander. He was not entitled to prevent the sacred offering of the priest.’
‘But may another have the right to decide my fate?’
‘It was the prerogative of the priest.’
‘You think then, that Prince Ashoka, and I, too, have sinned greatly.’
‘Countless miserable lives await you and the ghost of your husband will torment you.’
‘Sir, how can I escape such a dire fate?’
‘Serve the gods!’
‘Who will tell me what the gods wish, Sir!’
‘I, a Brahmin priest, who knows their will and can control them.’
‘Tell me, Lord, what I should do!’
‘The gods want Prince Sumana to be the viceroy of the Punjab. And that is what the Brahmins want because the sacred laws of Manu demand it! Thus, will you be released from your duty to Prince Ashoka and help me in our goal.’
‘Sir, he did save me from a terrible death.’
‘He cannot save you from its miserable consequences. If I do not avert it.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘You will serve the gods or they will destroy you.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘The laws of Manu permit you a white lie if it is for the welfare of all. Why should you be grateful to a Prince who has brought misfortune down on you, one who has given you a house with heathen and graven images to live in! Prince Ashoka came here because his father feared him just as many Rajas before him had feared their wild sons. Ajatasatru murdered his father and his four heirs were all patricidal murderers … all of them. Today, Prince Ashoka is on friendly terms with the rebels because his army is ridiculously small. His father did not trust him with a larger one. If Ashoka should ever become Maharajah he will be a scourge upon his country; pestilence and starvation will be the punishment of the gods. Indra will withhold the nectar of heaven. The Dasyus have stored up the empire’s rains and when the crops cover the farmlands the waters will burst in a deluge over the fields. Any friend of Ashoka is an enemy of the gods, no deed against him can be a sin. He who thwarts him will be praised; he who kills him is the greatest friend of the gods. There can be no crime too great against him, and a beautiful new birth will be the reward. Do you know, Gopa, who is Ashoka’s most loyal ally?’
Gopa betrayed none of her thoughts and her face displayed even now only fear and curiosity. ‘No, Sir.’
‘Prince Kala. He is worse than the Wild Prince. He did not hesitate to kill Brahmin priests! The gods know of no greater enemy. Redemption of all sins can be earned through destroying him. Soon, I will be leaving this unholy land and be gone for some time.’
‘Where are you going, Sir?’ asked Gopa, as if alarmed.
Devaka hesitated, but was convinced he had won over Gopa. A man is won by persuasion, a woman by fear of Dasyus, or hell, or miserable rebirths.
‘I am going to the land where the gods dwell, to mount Meru, high up in the mountains, where the Dasyus are preparing a fit punishment. And you, Gopa, must try to detect the plans of the Prince for the Brahmins. You will earn glorious rewards.’
‘Sir, I shall do everything to cleanse myself of my sins and please the gods.’
‘That is a promise not to be taken light, Gopa!’
‘But the Taxilans revere Ashoka!’
‘The Maharajah appoints the viceroy, not the Taxilans. We will see to it that the Emperor fears Ashoka’s being the viceroy. What is he doing here to build up a great power? How is he doing it, my Gopa? You will be allowed a white lie for the sake of the welfare of all,’ whispered Devaka in her ear. ‘Soon, you will go with me to Pataliputra to testify to the Maharajah about a force against him that is growing here in the Punjab. The gods have spared you for a sacred duty!’
‘Yes, Lord.’
‘Never let anyone—not even with one word—know that you have allied yourself with a Brahmin. I release you from your great sin if you serve the gods. Inveigle your way in with Ashoka’s ministers. Entice them. You are very beautiful, my Gopa. And warn them of the disasters that are awaiting them if Ashoka becomes the viceroy. I shall punish the Punjab if it transgresses. But the gods will praise the ones who punish their worst enemy, Prince Kala; his most horrible death will be their feast!’
‘What does Devaka need from me?’ It was Prince Kala, suddenly entering the hall. Devaka jumped. His look flashed unrestrained at the Prince. He took a few paces to the door and hissed: ‘Your welfare, Prince of Mayula.’
‘I understand that! Come, you walk very well, at least on one of your legs. And one of your arms moves excellently. Go and work for my welfare!’
With a conspiratorial look at Gopa, Devaka left the hall, head held high. Shakuni, who had not spoken a word but had almost been devouring Gopa with his eyes, followed him.
‘That is a dangerous enemy, that Brahmin.’
‘Dangerous to whom?’
‘To Prince Ashoka. And even more so to you, Prince Kala. The worst is what he has whispered to me. He wants to make the Maharajah afraid of the Prince and collect information that will disturb Bindusara. He wants to take me to Pataliputra to testify against my rescuer. A white lie is permitted! Why does he hate you even more than Prince Ashoka?’
Kala told Gopa what had happened in Mathura, the retribution in the jungle and the rescue by Shakuni.
‘He will not spare you and expects me to help the sacrificial priests!’ Gopa laughed. ‘But I will keep Madri’s fate in mind!’
‘We are here and not in Madhyadesa. There, they are not only the mediators between the gods and men, the unyielding guardians of their own interests, the advisors for the Vaishyas, providers of rain, sun, and drought, of spring and winter, but also the judges in the secret councils. They twist the legends and the sacred books in order to extend their power. They mercilessly persecute anyone who opposes their will. And Prince Ashoka is their greatest enemy. The Punjab to them is damned because it does not accept their domination. If Sumana becomes the viceroy of the Punjab then a large army will be sent, and his Brahmin advisors will not rest until they have established their ominous stranglehold in this land. Then, the Punjab will also be hallowed. Shakuni, the young man who leered at you so lustfully, violated his guru’s bed. That is how Devaka made him his slave. Devaka thinks that you, too, Gopa, are trapped in his clutches.’
‘Why did you n
ot kill that monster?’
‘Ashoka forbade it. If I kill Devaka, another one will come from Pataliputra with even more hatred. The Prince merely wants to be certain that we are not deceived. He does not want to kill Devaka, he wants to know his plans.’
‘Lord, I refused to offer my life to Kasaka, but I am willing to offer it any time to the Wild Prince if I can be of service to him.’
Prince Kala stood up.
‘You are beautiful as Ushas and amiable as Sita, my Gopa. Do you know if the priest and his ‘pupil’ have not eavesdropped on our conversation?’
Gopa went pale, and Kala laughed.
‘Be careful, he will not believe you on the basis of a single talk just now. You need not be afraid. I have five soldiers with me who had orders to see the two off. But they will be back, that is why I will leave a guard behind.’
Devaka forced Shakuni into a life of servitude, but the young Brahmin who had dallied with the wife of his guru, felt his life to be a heavy burden. Gopa had kindled his smouldering passion. He wanted to see her again and could barely wait until he had fulfilled his duties to Devaka. Long ago he had prepared a love potion from one of the best recipes: Kushta, blue lotus blossoms, a pair of bee wings, the roots of the Taalanka and the white Kakajangha, all dried and ground to a fine powder. He always carried it with him in a tiny silver box. If he sprinkled it upon the head of a woman, she would be bewitched and become his slave.
‘Beautiful Gopa, allow me to visit you once again. Later, I will not be able to talk to you.’
‘Who sent you?’
‘No one. I was struck by your beauty and the similarity of our fates.’
‘Similarity, you say?’
‘Yes, we both wish to serve Devaka to wash away our sins!’
‘Each of us will have to do that in our own different way, just as each of us sinned in our own way.’
‘Do you not find it hard to cut off your association with others, to fulfil Devaka’s wishes and spend all your energy on this? I long for a friend—a woman—who will also long for me.’
‘Why do you not look for one?’
‘I have found you, Gopa, as beautiful as the dawn over the holy Ganga. You are alone, I am alone. Why should we not comfort each other?’
He stood up, the box carefully hidden in his hand and, approaching her, sprinkled the powder with great care on her head without her noticing, and waited for it to take effect.
‘I am not in need of comfort.’
‘I am. I must travel far with Devaka, I will not see you for a long time.’
‘Where are you going, Shakuni?’
‘Beyond the Himalayas.’
‘Beyond!’
‘Yes. Past the Valley of the Indus, over the glaciers, where no animal can live, where no plant grows.’
‘Goodness, then stay here! What will you do in such places!’ said Gopa, affecting friendliness because she wanted to know.
Shakuni hesitated for a moment; the powder had started to work!
‘Devaka wants to see where the Dasyus collect the waters that will bring death and destruction. Sokota, a sannyasin, will guide us. Devaka will force the despicable Dasyus to deluge the Punjab with floods, as a punishment for their failure to acknowledge the gods. He has enormous power in his prayer. Will I have to keep yearning for your love for that long, my Gopa?’
‘You are a Brahmin, I am but a cursed Kshatriya-widow,’ said Gopa, pretending to be sad.
‘But Devaka will nullify all the curses!’
Shakuni now thought the potion had worked sufficiently. He approached her confidently and suddenly took her in his arms. Gopa pushed him away with force. He then muttered seven times an incantation that was meant to make a woman compliant in love. Gopa understood that she could only get rid of the young man by cunning. Revata, who had followed Shakuni and had heard the conversation started to make strange sounds in a nearby room.
‘Quiet! Shakuni, go immediately! Listen … it is the ghost of my dead husband! When he was alive, he was as jealous as a tiger. Listen … he approaches … quickly leave the house. It will mean your life!’ Gopa had such a frightened face that Shakuni quickly disappeared. Then Revata came in.
‘I will travel along with them, Gopa. They will cause disasters to the Punjab and my Lord.’
When Ashoka was informed of the plans of Devaka and his brahmacharin, he consulted Kala and Revata about what needed to be done. While they were thus engaged, Vimalamitra appeared and announced that a number of Brahmin priests from Pataliputra had arrived in the city and had called upon Devaka. He did not know what was discussed.
‘I can tell you, Lord,’ said Revata. ‘They will continue Devaka’s instigations, create suspicion about your work and if the people do not listen to them they will threaten them about the great disaster that will befall the Punjab which will be caused by Devaka himself. I wish to follow him and find out about the disaster.’
Ashoka thought for a moment and then said: ‘Listen, Vimalamitra, assign to each Brahmin a number of trusted men who will obstruct them the moment they speak out against us and keep them day and night under control. We shall see how things develop.’
The Brahmins who were replacing Devaka began their work but everywhere along the way they ran into Taxilans who at first listened and then laughed and made light of them, praised Ashoka highly and caused street-rows against them everywhere, being unmoved by their holiness and curses. Vimalamitra warned the strangers to stop their religious tirades. But this only resulted in the instigators warning the godless people of the Punjab of the great disaster in store for them prepared by the enraged gods. Unrest grew. But it was clear that the Taxilans took Ashoka under their protection against the priests. Vimalamitra eventually had the instigators deported from the city to the land beyond the Sarasvati.
Finding his plans were being nipped in the bud, Devaka did not dare leave the city.
14
THE DANCE OF THE LEPER CHILDREN
he caravan leader, Nila, sank onto a bench, disheartened.
‘There’s nothing to be earned, Lambi, for the foreign traders avoid our rebellious city.’
‘But there is no rebellion.’
‘No one knows that in Bactria and Arichosa or in Iran and Syria. Even from Ujjain and Bharuchkacha there are hardly any merchants coming. They will not take the risk of losing their precious merchandise to the pillagers of Taxila.’
‘Everything will become normal when they hear that Ashoka is the viceroy of Taxila.’
‘Is the army commander, you mean! They revere him like a god; in the Shiva temple the Taxilans jostle each other to offer oblations, seeking boons. Vimalamitra says that the young Mauryan possesses the wisdom of a rishi. People throw themselves in the dust before him. Those that utter anything hostile about him are driven out of the city. Next week will bring the night of the new moon. There will be a great feast to honour the Prince. But I have no money; I have five daughters and no money, Lambi. Raumi and Tungi are as beautiful as Ushas but no man will come up to me and say: ‘Nila, here are gold, camels and black donkeys, now give me one of your beautiful daughters.’ Yesterday I met Varisara, the goldsmith, who wanted to know how much dowry I would be settling on Tungi! These days they dare to ask such things! Dowry! Where am I going to get a dowry! How shall I pay for a wedding feast! … I want to arrange their marriages at the market, Lambi. They are now fifteen and sixteen years old; are they to wither away at home doing work that is not there?’
‘You are the master of your daughters, Nila. Make sure they get husbands.’
‘Many warriors have come along with Prince Ashoka, Kshatriyas from Madhyadesa. They may make an offer to me of more gold for the girls than I would ever get here.’
A drummer and a flute player went through the city announcing the event, luring the people to the market. There, Nila stood with his daughters on a platform.
‘Who will bid gold for my girls who are more beautiful than the nymphs of Indra’s heaven and as obedient
and as faithful as Savitri?’
Many soldiers from Ashoka’s army had strolled up to witness this strange spectacle. Hearing the announcement made by the drummer, even the commander himself wanted to see this unusual matrimonial arrangement. Disguised by Revata to look like a senior palace minister, Prince Ashoka stood together with Vimalamitra amongst the Taxilans. Revata pointed out Shakuni to him, who was in the midst of the onlookers.
When no offer of gold was made, Nila bared the shoulders and the shapely backs of the girls.
‘Beautiful! As though Kama had created them for himself. Who offers gold?’
When still no one made a bid he bared the breasts of both the girls. Shakuni—susceptible to every desirable woman and thinking that he could buy one of the girls—began to bid although he knew he would not take the girl to Pataliputra. Devaka would never allow it. Sela and Sissu, however, bid more. Shakuni outbid them. Then, a Taxilan called out: ‘Nila, don’t give your daughter to that fellow. He is the foot-washer of Devaka, the Brahmin from Pataliputra who curses you and your daughters!’
An angry Shakuni doubled his offer; still Nila refused, saying: ‘No, young man, he who serves Devaka is against Ashoka and can buy no daughter from me.’ There was loud approval of what Nila said. The crowd of onlookers laughed at Shakuni who was left with no choice but slink away. Ashoka then sent Revata to the camel-driver to purchase the girls for Gopa who lived in Susmila’s house. If Sela and Sissu wanted to marry them, that could still happen.
Thus, it was in this way that Raumi and Tungi came to live in Gopa’s house.
The seeds of the feast had already taken root in the hearts of the Taxilans. They felt relieved of the burden of their revolt. Every measure taken by the Prince had brought them closer to him. Nonetheless, they did not dare to voice their happiness yet but Vimalamitra knew that their feelings needed an expression. He turned to Ashoka.
‘Lord, the new moon festival in the month of Chaitra approaches soon. Do you want the Taxilans to celebrate it? ‘
‘Do the people want to celebrate, Vimalamitra?’
‘Sire, the festival will raise the happiness of the people as high as the Hymavant, because you rule Taxila.’
Ashoka the Great Page 19