‘Of someone who may soon appear in Taxila.’
‘Do not play with powerful men to whom a beautiful woman is as alluring as an areka blossom is to a butterfly but who value her less than their slave.’
‘Lord, I am not playing but making calculative moves. It may be that you need to know what is happening in Taxila. There are men for whom pleasures are more important than the work they have to perform. It may even be necessary that they neglect their tasks. I shall make sure that you are kept informed of the actions of the opponent.’
‘Gopa, you and the girls should not take risks!’
Gopa could not conceal her feelings. She threw herself at Ashoka’s feet.
‘Sire, I did not want to offer my life for a self-serving priest but I will, at any time for you! From morning to evening I make oblations to Shiva. I shall serve you in Taxila as long as I breathe. No sacrifice is too great for me. Not even for a single moment do I wish to weaken in my watchfulness towards you … and Shiva.’
Ashoka was deeply touched. Taking both her hands he raised her up and led her back to her seat.
‘I believe I ask too much of you, my friends.’
‘Never!’
‘May Shiva, the benevolent, bless you with wisdom and light, my Gopa. May Varuna protect your house and give you his clarity. I do not know what awaits me. Maybe, we will not see each other again, maybe we will. In any case I thank you for what you did and will yet do.’
As it happened on Ashoka’s arrival, all Taxila had gathered along the road to Hastinapura. It moved the young commander greatly. In Pataliputra he was used to being feared, even hated. In this far-flung outpost of the western region of the empire, there was more tolerance among the people and their knowledge of the sciences gave them a much broader view. The Prince, who had no feelings for the ludicrous ceremonies of the priests, discovered like-mindedness here and this was recognised by the people. Ashoka’s interest in the lives of all ranks of people, their art, their science, their trade, products and goods, came from a certain approval of, and an inclination to their way of life. This not only soothed their vanity but gave them confidence in the bold son of the Mauryas. They felt his leaving the city and the Punjab would be disastrous. Sumana’s fame held little attraction for them. Flower wreaths and garlands decorated the road as far as the city-dwellers had spread out. The citizens knelt down along the road as a mark of respect for the young Prince. They flung as offerings the most beautiful flowers before his steed’s legs. Slowly, he rode between the wide rows of people, his flashing chakra held up in farewell. When he came to the end of the road he reined his horse around and looked for some time in contemplation down the road to the city on the high rock. He then raised his chakra and let the bright reflecting rays glitter over the inhabitants of Taxila. Then, he sped ahead towards the capital. The hot desert winds and the clouds of dust, fine as powder, seemed to penetrate everything. At times it threatened to take both their breath and sight away. The journey now became more arduous. Kullika could not withstand the strenuous ride. At Kausambi, Ashoka reluctantly left him behind in a monastery for Buddhist monks. Ashoka himself wished to move on quickly, driven towards the uncertainty which awaited him far ahead.
Much earlier than he was expected, Ashoka arrived one evening at sunset in the capital. The hundreds of towers on the strong walls of palisades were lit sharply in the evening glow of the setting sun. His troop, small and dusty, rode in tight-knit order through the City gates. The guards shot up from their sleepy rest, alarmed, and everywhere his arrival was met with great surprise. It was known that the Wild Prince had been recalled and that the Crown Prince was to become viceroy of the Punjab. How this tamer of the revolt in the West would take that appointment, no one could say; yet everyone was wary, fearful of his wrath. Ashoka’s face was taut with earnestness.
Ashoka immediately sent word to the Maharajah that he had arrived and requested an audience with Bindusara. The Maharajah went pale. Here already! Such unflagging energy and driving force never failed to shock him.
‘How big is the army that has come along with him from the West?’
The reassuring reply calmed the Maharajah. Twelve heavily armed women from the imperial bodyguard were posted, as a mark of honour and for security, in the reception hall and received the Prince silently and with respect. The encounter was rather reserved.
‘My Father, you see that I have carried out your orders immediately.’
‘My brave son, you have achieved more in Taxila than I had ever expected and you have matched the wisdom and the maturity of an experienced general. I had perhaps, feared much more severe action on your part. I had not even dared to hope for such wise and successful leadership.’
‘I kept strictly to your command which was to quell the uprising in the best way I could. I considered it my prime duty to convince those led astray to be loyal to the Maharajah once again. A strong army would have been needed if punitive action was necessary, now, merely one just commander and a sensible ruler suffices.’
Bindusara understood that Ashoka had disapproved of his decision.
‘There is a general feeling here, my son,’ he began hesitantly, ‘that I gave you and not Sumana the opportunity to prove your capability. And I think it is necessary for my karma and my country to make a decision in accordance with the Arthashastra. I wish to give Sumana the opportunity to prove his ability to govern the land that was brought back to peace by you, which now also has an able corps of palace officers …’ Again, he hesitated a moment. ‘I have another assignment for my Ashoka … The contributions from Ujjain to the treasury have become less and less while their commerce has been expanding. Even the levies on the land have decreased over the last few years. I wish to know the reasons. The people are in need of a capable hand. You can organise the governance as you deem fit. You have showed that your mental abilities are capable of a difficult task such as this. Yours is a task that is more difficult than your brother’s. Show once again, in Ujjain, what you are capable of. You will now go as viceroy to the south-western countries of my empire.’
Ashoka bowed deeply towards the Maharajah who, in vain, tried to guess what effect his decision had made on his son.
‘You control yourself as behooves a monarch, my Ashoka. Tell me now what you think of this work.’
‘I am very happy to acquaint myself with the land where the Maharajah’s ships bring goods from distant shores and the people, the city, whose scholars know more than those of Taxila about the movement of heavenly bodies; and to come to know the dark peoples who have been made bereft of their glorious lands along the Indus and the Ganga, and have been driven back from the northern regions; also the people that live in Rajputana, Gujarat and Malwa.’
Bindusara looked at Ashoka in amazement.
‘Would my son have preferred to march as the commander of a mighty army against mutinous peoples?’
‘My work can only have convinced you that, in my opinion, the power lies with the Maharajah. I wish nothing more than to know your great land, to come to know what forces lie hidden within it and to discover what sets people apart and what binds them. But you have said, my beloved Father, that he who is capable of drawing the bow Gandhiwa and shoot its arrow can govern the empire of Indra. Furthermore, you said that my work in Taxila would be significant for the rest of my life. You will understand that I have been thinking about these words. When I heard that Sumana was to be the viceroy of the Punjab, which I had, in your spirit, restored to obedience and tranquillity to the Maharajah, I believed that my father was dissatisfied with my deeds … or that a villainous priest had made my work suspicious.’
‘I know everything that has happened in Taxila; I knew what Devaka’s goal was and I was informed of what my reasonable son did against his meddling. However, I do not wish to come in conflict with the Arthashastra. Sumana now has the opportunity to develop his strengths, if he has them. But I shall choose the Crown Prince as my duty to Indra and the other gods and to my peo
ple, compels me. Promise me that you will bow to my final decision.’
‘I would not make such a promise, even to Shiva.’
‘So, your self-interests do indeed override your fealty to the Maharajah, my son,’ remarked Bindusara, once again suspecting.
‘I do not wish to make empty, unwise promises that will make it impossible for me to do that which I may deem necessary in the future. In my Father I honour the Maharajah, as long as you remain the Emperor of Aryavarta. Thereafter I will ascertain, according to my own conscience, what the gods wish, what your country demands, and what is necessary for the Mauryas. The harmonious balance of these three concerns will decide my actions. I wish you and this land many more years of governance by Your Majesty. But do you think I would commit your empire into the hands of a clown of the priests? A slave of every beautiful woman? To a worthless non-entity, who places his own needs over and above the larger interests of your empire and its numerous peoples? They are in need of an Emperor with enough insight, willpower and willingness to make necessary sacrifices, by placing his strength and power at the altars of Shiva, Indra and Varuna, instead of sacrificing thousands of animals in the fiery sacred oblations! No god has ever appeared before the people and insisted: tie hundreds, thousands, of animals to poles and tighten the ropes around their innocent necks and deliver me, through Agni, their flesh and blood in heaven. The priests have demanded it! I have seen with my own eyes, how thousands—millions even—beg for support and help, justice, humanity, and a wise governance of the sacred Maharajah, who is sacred for that very reason! And should I then submit if you place Sumana on the ivory throne, my Father? You have forgotten, mighty Emperor, that it is under pressure from the Brahmin ministers, and thus for the Brahmin priests, that you have made Sumana the viceroy of a land that is ill-disposed to the system of varnas, that abhors the holy rites of Madhyadesa; that will never accede to subjugation by the Brahmins’ priestly domination, which Sumana, or rather his advisors, will demand. Forgive me, beloved Father, when I point out that your decision is a hazardous trial that could pave the way for an even more perilous rebellion than the one I just overcame.’
‘Why then did you not oppose it? The Punjab was in your hands, maybe, even a part of my army in Pataliputra. Even help from Iran would not have been out of the question.’
Then it dawned on Ashoka what the real motive of Bindusara’s was: fear … Bimbisara!1… Silently Ashoka gazed at the Maharajah, always in control of himself, but who now had bared his mind.
‘You did think of it, my son!’ the Maharajah broke out.
‘Of its possibility, certainly, it did lie before me. But never for a moment did I think of carrying it out.’
‘Why not?’
‘That is farther from what I am, than the throne of Indra, my Father.’
Bindusara remained sunk in his thoughts. Finally, he asked:
‘And if I choose Sumana as the Crown Prince?’
‘He can only become Maharajah when you are no longer so.’
‘So, you deny me my right to appoint the heir to the throne!’
‘No, but the right to crown the next Maharajah? Yes. That right belongs only to the divinity who reveals himself in all the people and in whom the divine will is revealed as well. A Maharajah who has chosen an heir, who could prove to be an unmitigated disaster for his lineage and for his country, would draw upon himself the wrath of the most superior deity, of Shiva Himself, as the symbol of life and death. And in this case, I cannot make the promise, my Father, that I would not regard myself as an instrument in His hands, to protect Aryavarta from this calamity.’
Again, Bindusara remained silent for a long time.
‘I have not yet made my choice.’
‘Sumana is not your choice; neither is he the choice of the Brahmins, but of the Brahmin sacrificial priests of the Brahmin-court. Their preference is not decided by the well-being of your world empire but on their limited views, their lust for power and their greed. They choose Sumana precisely because he will never really be a king. They will give Sumana his wealth, his women, his games, his pleasures, but they will administer the empire only to enforce their views, their will on the people. Do the Mauryas wish that? Or, Chandragupta? Or, Bindusara? I feel as much a Maurya as my two great forefathers. So, I cannot make a pledge, as you ask of me, my Father.’
Bindusara felt abashed.
‘And if I choose you, my son, do you think I will earn Shiva’s approbation?’
Ashoka was surprised, but the Emperor could discern nothing from his face.
‘Do you see any other possibility, great Maharajah?’
‘We shall defer our decisions for the time being: a peacock does not spread his tail until his heart has come completely to rest. Your mother awaits you impatiently, I suspect. Inform me of what you will need for your coming journey and when you will leave.’
Various women from the ladies’ quarters had hurried to Subhadrangi when they heard that Ashoka had returned. Subhadrangi appeared inconsolable.
‘But my dear Subhadrangi,’ said Gopali proudly, ‘it is my son who is Crown Prince! Did you expect it to be any different! Ashoka may be a good commander of the army, but Sumana is destined by the gods and the Brahmins to become the Maharajah and so must first be viceroy. If it were otherwise, if Sumana were to be by-passed, there would be consternation in the whole empire and mutiny would break out. The Brahmins and all the faithful love him for his piety and how he takes joy in life. This is just the way it is.’
‘The way it is, is for the gods to decide,’ said Hara bitingly.
‘And the holy Maharajah, my dear Hara!’
‘Why do they love him, happy Gopali?’ asked Jalini.
‘Perhaps, because he is proficient in the Vedas,’ said Gopali with a joyful, beaming face.
‘Look, Jalini, a wasp loves the sweet smell of a real flower more than the one in gold, forged in a chakra!’
‘Hara would have preferred Ashoka becoming the Viceroy.’
‘It is not pleasant when a Vaishya raises his cattle only to have the jackals snatch them from the pastures.’
‘There are also gods who receive the cattle as offerings through Agni.’
‘You are right: Indra loves the priests because they prepare soma and sacrificial meats.’
‘No man—much less an Emperor’s son—needs to be ashamed when he enjoys the fruits of the gods.’
‘Do the gods expend time only on delights, my Gopali?’
Just then Ashoka entered the ladies’ quarters.
‘Of course not, Mother Hara. They say that the gods seek strength in the offerings of food and drink to sustain the world. But what kind of deep discussions are being held here? The gods bless you, mother. I have returned from the West.’ Subhadrangi embraced her son and kept silent. No one noticed the sorrow she felt and the difficulty she had in suppressing her tears. Gopali should not know how deeply she had been disappointed. Ashoka greeted the other Ranis with equal warmth.
‘And is Prince Ashoka going to practise for the next military campaign? Or, is he going to rest for a while on the laurels of his victory?’ asked Gopali.
‘Certainly not, most revered mother Gopali. My father, the Maharajah, is sending me as Viceroy to Ujjain. There, too, we hope to persuade the subjects in a peaceable way to be loyal to the laws of the Mighty Emperor. War always has two gloomy companions at his side, mother Gopali: death and pestilence. Peace, however, two good ones: prosperity and happiness. Why should I bring the first ones into my Father’s empire, when the latter are much dearer to us?’
Gopali turned pallid. ‘I heard that Prince Ashoka was such a skilful warrior.’
‘Not me; but if it should ever be necessary, I will take up my chakra. It has proven to be dangerous to be my target.’
‘Ujjain? Where is Ujjain? I have hardly heard of it.’
No one listened to her. Ashoka had to speak of Taxila, Kashmir, the Takkas, the flood, the work he had done. Subhadrangi beamed with joy.<
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‘Is there an uprising in Ujjain, Prince Ashoka?’
‘No, the Maharajah is sending me there to improve the collection of revenues, mother Hara.’
‘Why does our Lord not send Prince Sumana there? Gopali says that he will become the ruler one day.’
‘A Maharajah does not himself go to the far corners of his country. For that he has his officers, ministers, and army commanders. Maybe, Sumana will become viceroy there when everything has been set right first,’ remarked Gopali.
‘Yes, that would be it,’ mocked Hara. ‘That is what Chandragupta did, as well as Bindusara, the conqueror of enemies. Before their anointment, both Maharajahs always sat in their palaces with their women, played and feasted at Prakriti’s and amused themselves in the park. And when the others had squeezed the mangoes for them, they drank the juice. That befits the Maharajah of a world empire!’
Ashoka found the quarrels among the ladies unpleasant and changed the direction of their conversation. Gopali now left the quarters. Her feeling of being the mother of the next Maharajah faded like the beautiful park in the evening dusk. She knew that keeping up her pride was the right thing to do now. When the others had left the room as well, Subhadrangi asked:
‘Who will be Crown Prince, my son?’
‘I know as little as you do, my dear mother. The Council wants Sumana and so does the Brahmin-court. Sumana does not have any quality which ensures he will be able to unite an empire of such diverse peoples. The whole West and south-west will be irrevocably lost for the Mauryas. Kullika also thinks so.’
‘Does your Father know this as well as you, my son?’
‘I believe so but I am not certain if the priests will eventually not realise their goal. The older Father gets the less resistance he is able to offer to their unbending will. Sumana’s viceroyalty is their first victory. It is a mystery to me how he will keep peace in the Punjab, unless he takes along a very strong army. And with even that he should not be entrusted. The Maharajah wavers between Maurya and Brahmins, custom and necessity, pressure and duty … between Sumana and me. If he chooses me, then everything that stands on the side of the priests will be in opposition to me and their influence is no light matter. If he chooses Sumana, then he will have me against him. Not as a power, maybe, but as conscience.’
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