‘Let Vatsa come here, Jala … Do you compel the caravans to take the great trade road to Ujjain, Sarvilaka? According to the decree of the Maharajah you are required to provide a guide for them.’
‘Kartika does not request that, gracious Raja.’
‘So, both of you neglect your duty. How do you know then, that the caravans pass by Ujjain?’
‘The caravan-traders take the oath that they will follow the allocated road.’
‘Jala, send in the three caravan-traders who have visited Bharuchkacha several times … How many pirate ships make the Bharygazenus unsafe?’
‘I do not know, Sire.’
‘You do not know, Purusha of the ports? How many ships have you sent out to eliminate the pirates?’
‘None, Sire. The masters of the ships have to be responsible for their own safety.’
‘You have sworn the oath to the Maharajah to encourage the prosperous growth of the sea ports and to protect the sailors. Do you not have ships? Are not all wharves of the Maharajah at your disposal? Do you not order the building of new ships?’
‘Yes, O, Raja, I rent them out to the masters of the ships.’
‘How much of that income goes to the Maharajah?’
‘I do not quite know, Sire.’
‘Why, if you do not take care of the safety of the sailors, do you alert the pirates about the departures of the foreign ships?’
‘The departure of each ship is proclaimed with flags, O, Raja.’
‘From each ship?’
‘… Yes, Sire.’
‘Who gives the order to put out the flags?’
‘Vatsa. For each ship there is the flag of its own country.’
‘Bring in the man who puts up the flags, Jala … To what places do the pirates bring the treasures they have seized?’
‘It is said that they have secret hideaway ports.’
‘And to where do you allow your own treasures to be transported?’
‘Sire, my treasures are kept in this palace.’
‘All of them?’
‘… Yes, Sire.’
‘You do, now and then, give feasts in your palace, infamous for its women and inebriating drinks, which are freely available for the guests in your palace. Do you believe that you enhance the honour of the Maharajah, which is your duty, in this way?’
Sarvilaka kept silent.
‘You know Gobad, the Iranian?’
Sarvilaka bowed deeply. Of all his misdeeds in the course of his duties, his behaviour towards the Iranian merchant Gobad, was the most insolent and unscrupulous.
‘Yes, Sire.’
‘Did you have any authority to demand his daughter as your wife, after he had refused?’
‘No, Sire.’
‘For what offence have you thrown the Iranian into jail?’
Savilaka kept silent.
‘All because he did not give in to your lustful demands!’
‘He defied my authority and threatened me with an army from Iran, Sire.’
‘Was that defiance so unlawful, when the high Purusha of the entire port area had denied him his rights? Is it your wish to have law and order in Bharuchkacha?’
Sarvilaka kept silent.
‘Were does Gobad live now? And his wife and his daughter?’
‘Sire, I set them free.’
‘Without a meeting of the court being called?’
‘Yes Sire, he has left. They say that pirates seized his ship and sailed away with it.’
‘And the Purusha of the Maharajah let that happen?’
Three foreign merchants, three caravan-traders, Vatsa and the flag-servant, Wanka, were then led in. All of them swore the oath that they would speak the truth and Ashoka warned them that he would pass the severest sentence for any perjury.
‘When do you fly out a flag, Wanka?’
‘When Vatsa gives the order, Sire.’
‘For each ship?’
‘I do not know, Sire.’
‘One flag for each ship?’
‘Sometimes, I have to add a red or a blue flag.’
‘With what purpose, Vatsa?’
‘The blue one to indicate that the ship has a rich cargo and the red one to show that there is a very rich cargo on board.’
‘A sign meant for whom!’
Vatsa kept silent and looked at Sarvilaka who threw a furious look at him.
‘It takes place at the orders of Sarvilaka, Sire.’
‘As a sign for whom?’
‘For the pirates, gracious Raja.’
‘And you gave that order, Vatsa?’
‘Sarvilaka is my master, O, Raja.’
‘And you carry out orders against the laws of the Maharajah?’
‘A refusal could cost my job, maybe my life.’
‘And that is worse than deceiving the sacred Maharajah?’
‘Obedience to the Purusha is my first duty, Sire.’
‘If that Purusha upholds the law or even tries to uphold it.’
The three caravan-traders declared that they never swore the oath to pass by Ujjain. On the contrary, they were advised to take the road through the valley of Malvi or the safer road over Dhala, to the benefit of both parties. On Ashoka’s orders, Achala interrogated the foreign merchants in their own language. It turned out that they had to contribute one-fifth of their cargo for clearance rights and the best of their valuable merchandise and female slaves had to be turned over to Sarvilaka.
‘Do any of the judges wish to ask anything more?’
‘Vatsa, where are the treasures of Sarvilaka?’
Vatsa did not dare lie. ‘Rebhila always loads the ships of Sarvilaka, O, Raja. He will know it.’
‘So, you too know it, Vatsa. Answer!’
‘Sire, they were shipped by Sarvilaka.’
‘To which place?’
‘None of us knows the hiding place, Sire.’
‘Where are Gobad and his family, Sarvilaka?’
For one moment, Sarvilaka appeared to hesitate. Then he said: ‘Sire, it is not known to me.’
‘So, you have answered none of my questions truthfully. During all the time you were the Mahamatra, you served your own interests and not that of the Maharajah; out of your employees you made corrupt cheats. You stole from foreigners, persuaded caravan-traders not to pay the rightful tax to the Maharajah. You conceal the profits made from your greed and misuse of the power you have over the coast of Kalyana. Today, you broke your oath twenty times, an oath that should be sacred, to you in particular, Purusha. You did not protect the foreigners as was your duty, refused them their rights and deprived them of their freedom, because you could not check your licentious ways. For that you earn the sentence of death, Sarvilaka.’
Ashoka made a sign to Jala. Jala put Sarvilaka against the wall and a moment later his body was pierced by ten arrows. A few soldiers carried away the corpse.
Suddenly, Sarvilaka’s wife rose from her posture of entreaty and cast desperate eyes on the Viceroy. Until now, Ashoka had not paid the slightest attention to her.
‘Take the woman back to the harem.’
Before anyone could prevent it, she brought forth a thin dagger and stabbed herself in her heart. Nobody dared move; each waited for an order from the Raja. The Viceroy saw that the result of his penalty had gone beyond what he had desired.
Kullika, who knew Ashoka’s mind well from years of intimacy, whispered to him: ‘The four Sublime States of the Buddha, Sire …’
‘Carry the two corpses together to one funeral pyre … Achala, I assign you as Mahamatra of the Port of the Maharajah.’
Achala shot up and staggered: ‘Sire, I am only … sarthavaha …’
Ashoka smiled, ‘But a good caravan-leader!’
‘Sire, I am a Shudra.’
‘But you are a human being, Achala.’
‘Yes, Sire.’
‘Then I want you to take immediately an oath of loyalty towards the Maharajah, before me and my Purohita.’
It was a brief,
impressive ceremony. Shortly afterwards, they went back to work.
Ashoka had six of his fastest sailing ships heavily armed and equipped to prepare for the fight against the pirates.
An ‘Egyptian ship’ was apparently loaded with great treasures, and next to the Egyptian flag fluttered a red flag on the palace buildings on the coast. When three pirate ships appeared, coming closer and closer, tempted by the tarrying of the Egyptian vessel, Jala sailed out with the six fast galleons, and in the short fight that ensued, soon overpowered the pirates, killing most of them, and forced the others to show him their hiding place and the place where Sarvilaka had hidden his treasures. A few days later Jala returned with Gobad, his wife and daughter, along with heavy cargoes of valuables and the captured pirates.
Ashoka accorded Gobad the hospitality reserved for a guest of honour, until his ship and its cargo were fully restored. The feared name of the Wild Prince buzzed through the streets and buildings of Bharuchkacha and was carried forth by the ships across the ports of far-away lands, so that soon, everyone had a name for the strong-willed, hard-working king: Ashoka the Righteous.
When Ashoka was convinced that he had found a capable Purusha in Achala, he returned to Ujjain. Another sarthavaha would lead him along the interior roads of Malwa, the roads used by the caravans for smuggling.
‘Do you know the traders’ secret roads, Avalaka?’
‘I know them all, Sire. When employees of the Maharajah forget their oath, the caravan-traders and the sarthavaha seek their own routes, although the risks increase. Rapacious tribes of the desert and of the forests of the Aravalli-mountains and the mountains of Malwa, sense easily the right opportunity to fulfil their avaricious plans. An encounter with caravans often leads to a fight to death. They know that no support from the tributary administration is to be expected.’
‘And if we should meet them?’
‘Normally, they fear the imperial army, Sire. They understand that if they win a much larger army will return.’
The first tribe they came across was a group of Rajputans, proud herdsmen, who were looking for lush pastures for their herds of horses, camels and mules south of their territory. They could recognise when a caravan carried valuable objects and that was bait enough for a fight. They looked in amazement to see a body of armed horsemen camping on their pastures. They approached the horses boldly, examining and touching them, and everyone was filled with admiration. Jala called for Ashoka, who was in his tent.
The Viceroy saw that they were Rajputans, fearless warriors, who claimed to be descendants of the ancient Kshatriyas.
‘Who are you,’ their chief asked.
‘Ashoka, the commander of the army of Taxila, and the Viceroy of Ujjain.’
‘Mahadeva Asoka!’ They fell back in great excitement, knelt, and bowed their heads down to the grass. Mahadeva Ashoka had become a deified, mythical figure amongst the desert people, ever since his assistance to the Rajputans at the Satadru, thus becoming a mighty patron of their clans. Ashoka did not reject an alliance with these greatly respected warriors, an alliance which they offered with great zeal. Maybe, their skills could be of use, if not now then in the future. The chief was therefore received in Ashoka’s tent with great respect. Here, it was decided that Jala would stay behind with them, to train them as warriors and make pacts with other clans while Ashoka was proclaimed their chieftain.
About a week later, when Ashoka’s army had crossed the borders of Malwa, towards night time, they neared a huge banyan tree. Ashoka’s attention was caught by a row of rocks which had been laid out like a terraced floor on a mound of earth.
‘The sacred tree of the Bhils, Sire.’
‘Aryans?’
‘I suspect it to be Mlecchas1, although there do exist fairly light-skinned Bhils. They are believed to be cattle thieves, robbers, capable of any crime, and great hunters.’
‘We will make our camp here, Avalaka.’
‘Your army is not large, Sire, and the Bhils are known to be very good archers. On horseback, too, they have no equals.’
‘Except for my horsemen.’
The tending of men and animals brought activity beneath the jumble of branches, bearded aerial roots, and shadow-spreading foliage. When the sun was setting behind the western hills and the moon, like an opening lotus showed pale in the gloom, the camp signal for the night resounded. The sounds of the camp then gave way to the soft shrieks of monkeys and parrots, hidden in the dark foliage of the banyan. Ashoka made his rounds and waited. He stood awhile, still, pensive. Then he crouched down at last. Revata was late … Kullika approached him, threw a cloak around his shoulders and seated himself silently next to the Raja.
The banyan rose up in front of them like a black mass. The holy tree of the Bhils, sacred: from the smallest seed growing up into a huge temple, its mighty crown towering towards Indra’s heaven, spreading blessing, calm, strength, life from the All-life, will from the All-will; enduring, demanding nothing, giving, not asking; breathing out refreshing life, but itself bearing the scorching heat of the Indian sun; growing ever bigger, higher, stronger, more blissful. Holy banyan … what effrontery that the priests call themselves holy!
At last, Ashoka saw Revata approaching. The faithful Shudra leaped down from his horse, knelt down and informed the Raja in clear words of his investigations.
‘Go to your tent and take rest, my Revata.’
Ashoka followed him with his eyes … his most indispensable friend …
‘Revata is the most incomprehensible person I have met in my life, Kullika. Open as the plains of the Ganga to Surya. I trust him more than myself. His only motivation is to serve me. Upon his reports, I am sure to see everything with clarity, as clearly as the white lotus on a most radiant day. There is no deed of Revata which is not focussed with pure transparency on my wishes, my interests. His manas is sharper than that of Sayana, he knows more about the world and the affairs of governance than the most capable Mahamatra. He forgets nothing that is of interest to him. His knowledge of medical science is vast. He acquired that in Taxila, out of pure interest, in those moments when he could be of no service to me.’
‘What then is incomprehensible about this human being, Sire?’
‘That he—a Shudra in Aryavarta—remains Revata. I offered him the highest place, next to me. His answer was: ‘Sire, my only advice to you as a minister would be: ‘Keep Revata as an informant, if ever you want to be the Emperor’ … Maybe, he is right. I give him an order and he knows how to execute it. His voice can mimic any other voice, with his disguise he can impersonate anyone, with his manas he pierces, sees through everything … You see, Kullika, thanks to Revata, I now know that Chanayana is approaching from a distance, dragging himself as though tired. Yet is not tired, and has been following me for weeks on Shakuni’s orders.’
‘Their spy, like Revata is yours.’
‘No … their interested party! Revata, a spy! Revata is my guardian angel without any interests of his own, my Kullika!’
‘May Varuna bless your tents and Indra your soldiers, Sire.’
‘Bless you,’ responded Kullika. Ashoka kept silent.
‘Is it permitted for a tired pilgrim to stay this night in your camp under the holy banyan, Sire?’
‘Why holy?’
‘It is great and mighty.’
‘Is what is great and mighty than holy, stranger?’
‘And what comes from Brahman, Sir.’
‘You, too, are from Brahman. Does that make you holy?’
‘Sir, I am a Brahmin and my karma is high.’
‘Which holy places did you travel on foot to in the last weeks, Brahmin?’
‘Many, Sire.’
‘You must have lost your way; in the west of Malwa there are no holy places.’
‘Sire, I am tired, that is why I ask for hospitality in your camp.’
‘How many Bhils do you expect here early tomorrow morning?’
‘Sire, the Bhils are Mlecchas, cattle thieve
s, robbers.’
‘And capable of any crime.’
‘They are dangerous to pilgrims, Sire.’
‘Then why did you visit their camp today?’
The Brahmin was visibly frightened. ‘Sire, you are mistaken. The Bhils are impure.’
‘What rewards have you promised them? How many horses, how many oxen?’
The priest lost his quiet control and stammered.
‘Sire, how could I … I would like to travel … with your party, to be safe from those accursed ones. I am a good storyteller, Sire, and I know the Vedas.’
‘Do you wish that your horse, left behind over there on the fringes of the forest, is also to be taken care of?’ The face of the Brahmin became distorted. ‘When you return to Pataliputra, please inform the Brahmin-court that the Wild Prince does not tolerate a second Devaka in his camp, Chanayana.’
Chanayana took a few steps back, as though he wanted to run. Ashoka gave a whistle. Five armed guards rushed forward.
‘Kill this spy!’ Ashoka said indifferently.
‘Sire, when you kill a Brahmin you will be visited by the most severe punishment from the gods!’
‘Are you afraid of death, Chanayana? You commit crimes which call for capital punishment: you betray the army of the Maharajah to the enemy but when you are caught you hide yourself behind your Brahmanism! Tie up this spy! Two men will guard him. At every word he utters, enforce silence upon him with a bamboo stick. When the Bhils are nearing, make three sharp signals with the conch.’
‘The sacred banyan, O, Raja!’ whispered Kullika.
‘Shiva’s lightning bolt along the tree-trunk will kill the holiest pilgrim, noble Kullika.’
Ashoka lay down to sleep, dissatisfied: to give an account to men like Sarvilaka and Chanayana, he felt, was weakness. Revata’s testimony was more than enough!
The next morning, just before sunrise, three fierce bugles of the horn were heard. A large troop of Bhils was approaching, small, slender, lively figures, frizzy haired and dark-skinned. All of them held their heavy bows drawn, ready for shooting.
The camp was galvanised into action and armed itself.
‘Who dares to come to rest under our sacred tree?’
Avalaka translated their question for the Viceroy.
Ashoka the Great Page 39