‘You mean another murder?’
‘On the contrary, a three-fold deed of good favour. Because you will deliver an unfortunate being from a miserable existence, protect the Brahmins and at the same time achieve the highest well-being for yourself.’
‘Who is this brahmacharin, Lord?’ asked Hasta hesitantly.
‘None of us here knows. He calls himself Piyadasi and his father is a Shudra. So, even if you were caught your punishment would be slight. But no one will catch you, only the gods will know. Every Brahmin feels threatened because of this dreadful prophecy. You will be the benefactor of the Brahmins and their prayers will support you.’
Every objection raised by Hasta was reasoned away. Their lengthy prayers, offerings as well as fasting, were a decoy to divert Revata’s attention, while they convinced Hasta of the gloriousness of his deed. Eventually, the Vaishya gave in. Then Devaka taught him the many ways by which he could achieve his goal. Revata had thought that the Vaishya was visiting Devaka’s hermitage for absolution of his sins, when suddenly one day he was gone. This filled Revata with indefinable fears.
After one final great offering ceremony during which all of Hasta’s sins were absolved even before they were committed, and during which he was made to swear a sacred oath that he would never talk to anyone about this, not to Piyadasi or anyone else, he left for Sayana’s hermitage.
Hasta sought Piyadasi’s company quite openly and attempted to win his confidence. The Prince, however, felt suspicious of him and thus kept up his guard. One night—the rains having subsided—they sat together on the verandah with Sayana.
‘What, O, wise Sayana, is a man supposed to do to walk the holy path?’
‘Not just one holy path, but many holy pathways lead to Oneness with the Brahman, Hasta.’
‘Richika said: the study of the Vedas, performance of the forty rites, good deeds, and austerity. But you then, and Piyadasi?’
Ashoka became attentive … Richika! So, Hasta knew Devaka’s hermitage! Feigning seriousness, he said:
‘The path? Do you not know then, the two cardinal sets of words of the Upanishads: Tat Tvam Asi, That thou Art, and Aham Brahma Asmi, I am Brahman? If you want to seek the path, look for it within yourself! How much gold and how many cows did you give as payment to the priest Richika—that is the name of your priest is it not?—to have him convince you of his wisdom, Hasta? And as far as austerity is concerned, the Chandogya Upanishad observes: Brahman is life, Brahman is joy, Brahman is abundance … What do you then wish to achieve by austerity?’
Sayana smiled and nodded. ‘You see, Hasta that is one way already. The Mundaka Upanishad assures the attainment of divinity to one who lives in seclusion and practises asceticism and faith. So, what Richika says, may be a path as well.
‘But Gautama says that, though purified by the forty rites, he who lacks the eight good qualities will not become one with Brahman and will not reach heaven,’ remarked Ashoka.
‘Eight good qualities?’ Hasta realised that he should not have mentioned Richika.
‘Yes, of which compassion and truth are the most important.’
Ashoka now left the other two alone. Hasta pondered about the words of Piyadasi. How could this young man be a harbinger of misfortune for Madhyadesa and the holy Brahmins, when he was such a good pupil and great friend of the Brahmin Sayana? Perhaps, the wise Sayana had not heard of the fateful prophecy concerning Piyadasi! In any case, he, Hasta, had abjured his penance and had been chosen for the great deed: liberating the Brahmins and Madhyadesa … indeed, the liberation of Piyadasi himself! He was bound by his oath of silence, otherwise he would have spoken to Sayana about it. Accomplishing a great deed! The reward was deliverance from his great sin and from the varna of his fathers.
But Ashoka’s suspicions were aroused and so had diminished Hasta’s chances of deliverance from his sin. Hasta’s attempts had been the result of clever planning by the cunning Devaka, but were encountered by the Prince with even sharper cleverness.
The next morning, Hasta brought Piyadasi his meal. Strange? ‘Your own safety comes first!’ his Father had said. He took the bowl from Hasta and walked away.
‘Where are you going, Piyadasi?’ asked the Vaishya, surprised.
‘I am going to offer this to the sacred animals of Sayana’s hermitage, the cows.’
Hasta went pale. ‘No, no!’ He wanted to pry the bowl from Ashoka’s hands. Ashoka, however, moved faster, firmly grabbing the Vaishya’s arm and frightening him. The Prince then threw the food to some chickens which picked at it greedily and soon fell over, dead.
‘Well, Hasta, do you comprehend that?’ Hasta could utter no word, looking at the Prince with wide eyes. Ashoka left him standing there, rooted in his own thoughts, and went quietly about his work. Now he was certain. Where was Revata? Why had he not warned him about the Vaishya? Who was Hasta? Only one chakra… But no, it was better to know what the man wanted! No discussions shall be made about this with Sayana.
Unobserved, Ashoka now kept constant watch on the guest. He followed him, hidden behind trees and bushes and saw how the man caught, with the great skill that only the farmers possessed, seven black scorpions. He slipped them into the basket normally meant for roots and fruits that had been gathered. The deadly creatures ended up in his sleeping quarters.
At night, after his bath and prayer at Sayana’s, Ashoka said:
‘Honourable and wise Sayana, there are seven black scorpions in my sleeping quarters. You know their sting is deadly.’
Sayana shot up in alarm.
‘Come with me, my beloved brahmacharins, let not my hospitality conclude fatally for a guest of my hermitage.’ The pupils looked at the enigmatic young man with awe. Ashoka stayed back with Hasta, whose wild eyes kept darting every now and then at the Prince. When the others returned, Piyadasi thanked them and respectfully bid his teacher a good night. Confused, Hasta also went to his sleeping-place. How did the Prince know about the scorpions! That brahmacharin frightened him! Devaka had warned him that Piyadasi was no easy opponent. But it was the only way to save his soul …
With infinite patience Hasta went about searching in the jungle; now he stood still, and ever so slowly, bent over. With a lightning movement he grabbed a cobra by its tail and swung it in long, quick circles above his head. The reptile was unable to arch its agile body because of the rapid movement. Ashoka observed interestedly. The Vaishya suddenly grabbed the dangerous snake by its neck with a steady hand. Though the reptile twisted and turned furiously, Hasta did not let go. Deftly, he threw the thrashing snake into a basket and wiped the sweat off his brow.
That night the same scene was repeated.
‘Honourable and wise Sayana, there is a cobra in my sleeping quarters. Would it be alright if Hasta caught it?’ Everyone jumped up.
‘My Piyadasi, Hasta is my guest!’
‘Hasta is a farmer and often chances on dangerous animals on his land, O, dear Sayana. Come, Hasta.’
The Vaishya went along reluctantly. His face grew sallow. He looked back nervously at the brahmacharin, who held a gleaming chakra in his hand.
‘Catch him alive, Hasta. You know the art.’
‘Lord!’
‘I am no Lord; I am a brahmacharin!’
‘Lord, the reptile is as vengeful as a Brahmin.’
‘As a sacrificial priest, you mean. See, my chakra, it can separate your head from your body effortlessly when the cobra bites you. Then, you will be liberated from all your suffering.’ There was no choice. What if he dangled the cobra before Piyadasi’s face? But the gleaming chakra was ready to be cast! Hasta caught the cobra. Together they then came back to the premises.
‘Now, grab hold of the reptile and swing it in circles above your head, Hasta, and hold it tightly, for my chakra is swifter than the Maruts.’
Hasta dared not defy Piyadasi. Soon, the cobra was being whirled above the head of the repentant sinner. Ashoka now flung his weapon with accuracy at the Vaishya. Even before f
ear sent Hasta ducking, he was holding one-half of the awful reptile in his hand while the other end flew off into the distance. Hasta let the remains of the reptile slide out of his hands and stood, glassy-eyed.
‘Now, go back to bed, Hasta. Tomorrow you will embark on a pilgrimage to the sacred Narmada to obtain forgiveness for your sins. First, kneel before the holy Sayana, whose Brahmin hospitality you have abused.’
Hasta kneeled and bowed his head silently into the damp sand.
Ashoka told Sayana what he had encountered during the last few days.
‘Without a doubt it is the hand of Devaka, revered Sayana. Devaka has deserved my chakra many times but I fear that something has happened to Revata. Tomorrow I will leave for Devaka’s hermitage.’
‘Do not go, Piyadasi. Your father believes that you are safe here. Devaka is a dangerous man.’
‘A coward, who lets others carry out his cunning plans and who himself hides behind the safe walls of Brahmin-hood!’
‘Be sensible! Revata is a Shudra. If need be, send soldiers. Revata will know how to protect himself.’
‘Revata is certainly as clever as any guru from Taxila. He is a human being and my friend. Would I leave him now in the hands of someone like Devaka? I fear for his safety there.’
‘Your life is worth more than that of a thousand Revatas.’
‘Then the higher I value my friend Revata, the more my worth will be, O, noble Sayana. But if I did not count one such friend then I would not count for a thousand and thus not myself.’
‘Wait for help from Pataliputra as the Ganga is too high.’
‘I am afraid I am already too late. I must leave early tomorrow morning. I am well armed and trust in Shiva.’
Sayana did not oppose any longer and could not but admire the unblemished character of the Prince.
Very early the next morning, Ashoka took the road to Richika’s hermitage, wrapped in a deer-skin of Sayana’s. High leather leggings protected him from snakes and leeches. His gaze swept across all sides to see if predators menaced him. The road was difficult, wet, and sometimes hardly passable. His robust young body, however, did not tire. He wanted to find Revata and barely took notice of the thousand discomforts and dangers of the jungle during the monsoon. Sissus and kikars, palms and banyan trees, pelted him with heavy raindrops and their biting, sucking residents, but the battle against them did not impede his progress along the arduous road.
After hours of struggle he arrived at the hermitage. It appeared to have been abandoned. Ashoka whistled his elephant signal which Revata knew. The whistle was answered from behind the buildings. The Prince hurried there and found Revata locked up in a heavily barricaded barn. He removed the heavy bar and, entering, found a smaller and much more strongly built enclosure inside in which the Shudra was seated.
‘Sire, leave this barn immediately or they will shut you in as well,’ said Revata hastily and fearfully. ‘Sire, you are not safe with them!’ Ashoka approached Revata calmly.
‘First, let me try to free you, my friend.’
‘Sire, the four of them have barred the stockade and fortified it. It is impossible to get me out of here quickly. Do not wait any longer. Flee!’
‘Do you think that four priests are able to keep the two of us in a simple barn? How did you get here?’
‘Some time ago, I saw that Hasta had suddenly disappeared … he was a sinner who had killed a cow for which he was doing penance in a pasture. He was a frequent visitor to the hermitage. On his visits he often had long talks with Devaka and Richika. Whenever I got close to them, their talk turned to sin and penance, or about the Vedas and the forty rites of the Vaishya. But once, when I had entered the hermitage stealthily, I heard the names of Sayana and Piyadasi being mentioned. The next morning Hasta was gone. A voice inside me said my Lord was in danger. I wanted to leave and told them that I was going to Kosala. As if they had already planned so, all five of them grabbed me and dragged me to this stockade. Evidently, they were scared that I would go to Sayana’s hermitage to warn you. Now I was certain. I spent the first days here in mortal fear for you, O, Prince. Every attempt to escape failed. After long hours of contemplation, my faith in Shiva was restored, Sire.’
Ashoka then narrated what happened with Hasta.
‘Sire, the danger is much greater here! You do not yet know Devaka!’
‘A coward!’
Ashoka wanted to proceed to Richika’s hermitage to force the priests to free Revata. But a heavy beam now blocked the exit. Shakuni, who had heard the elephant whistle as well, had followed Ashoka quietly. He shrank back when he recognised Devaka’s opponent. When Ashoka had entered the gate, he carefully closed it and ran back to Devaka. The priest laughed. ‘Take a horse and race to Pataliputra. Alert Prince Sumana and inform him to come here himself, along with a dozen most trusted archers.’
‘What should we do?’ asked Richika, somewhat frightened at the daring deed. ‘We did not even need Hasta,’ remarked Devaka dryly.
‘The Maharajah will not save any of us! Defying his will and justness once again will cost us our lives!’
‘The Maharajah will not know. Prince Sumana will be here shortly. And what happens afterwards will be on his head, not ours. The responsibility is his alone. We were merely exiled in the jungle; that we have not transgressed.’
‘Defiance against the judgement of the Maharajah! The Ganga is high!’
‘With gold you can buy a good boat. Shakuni is already on the way.’
Richika bowed his head.
‘Tristus and Sunasepha, keep watch at the stockade. Reinforce it, where necessary.’
‘Devaka, we play for high stakes!’
‘What do you want, Richika? Will you let a Shudra trample upon the varna of the Brahmins, one who may later become Maharajah? Sumana has him in his power! Prince Sumana will decide, will judge the man who is an enemy of our holy land and its highest varna! We Brahmins will not disturb one hair on his head. The Maharajah would punish us without mercy!’
‘And if he should be freed?’
‘He will never be freed!’ Devaka hollered, emphasising his every word. ‘The gods require a great sacrifice! They are afraid! Who will feed and quench them, if the priests can no longer bring sacrifices in Magadha and Madhyadesa? And if the gods die of starvation and thirst, the land also dies, like the harvest does in the season of Jyeshtha.’
Richika gave in. As they waited for Sumana, Tristus reported on what the prisoners were doing. A few hours went by.
‘The Prince is cutting away at the stockade with his sword.’
‘Teak cannot be chopped with a little sword.’
At the barn, Ashoka himself had come to the same conclusion; he then tried to dig under one of the posts.
‘They are trying to pull one of the posts out of the ground, Devaka.’
‘They will fail; our palisades are high as well as deep!’
The priests waited. The news from their men came one after the other:
‘They have wrenched away one of the posts, Devaka.’
‘Revata is freed, Devaka.’
‘They want to batter down the outer stockade but we are reinforcing it where they are trying to batter it down, Devaka.’
‘Hold on a little longer, Tristus, their hands are not suitable for such work.’
‘They are building a ladder and hope to climb over the outer stockade, Devaka.’
‘They are both climbing the outer stockade and Prince Ashoka wants to speak to you, Devaka.’
The priest mocked coldly: ‘Let him come here!’ He looked up the road to Pataliputra.
Tristus left again and returned shortly.
‘The Prince orders us to open the gate, or it will be a battle of life and death.’
‘Then kill him!’
‘Devaka, come with us! This can never end well!’
‘Not necessarily, Richika. Sumana’s troops are coming.’
‘Go!’ That was an order and Devaka finally obeyed but grabbed
a bow and some arrows which they used in emergency to protect themselves from wild animals. The four now stood a short distance away from the stockade. Ashoka and Revata were sitting astride it.
‘What does the Prince want?’
‘Open the gate, Devaka.’
‘I have no right to open the gate.’
‘Then who, scoundrel?’ Ashoka’s expression darkened.
‘You will soon see.’ Ashoka felt his temper rising.
‘I spared your life a number of times, Devaka. Think. A Maurya will not let himself be locked up by a Brahmin priest. Open the gate!’
‘I did not once ask you to spare my life. It was not I who locked you in. After all, the Maharajah would punish me!’
‘Know what you are doing, priest, and why you are living in the jungle! You dare to oppose the judgement of the Maharajah, Richika.’
‘You are not our prisoner. I am no longer in charge of your prison.’
‘So, Richika, you dare imprison a Maurya, Chandragupta’s grandson, the Viceroy of Ujjain, in a barn and hope to hand him over to your accomplices in the month of Jyeshtha!’ Richika trembled. ‘Open the gate, I order all four of you!’ Ashoka’s voice roared through the jungle. His rage overcame all his self-control.
‘A prisoner does not give orders!’ But Devaka’s gaze up the road became more nervous.
‘‘I have given over control of you to others,’ said Richika hesitatingly. Ashoka noticed his confusion.
‘So, to Sumana! And once again, will he dispatch hired assassins? And does the former head-priest of the Brahmin-court think I will tolerate that?’
Ashoka the Great Page 30