‘Will the fortnightly sacrifice … save me?’
‘The faithful performance of your duty was your sacrifice, Gracious Majesty. That is the only sacrifice that is of value. It has already released you and made your people happy.’
‘Do you mean it is no longer a need that I stay … in life?’
‘I will thank the gods if they will preserve you for the empire, mighty and sacred Maharajah. But who can resist when the time has come? Whether you enter Yama’s realm now or after some more years, your many work will remain forever. The next Maharajah will build on them. It is your work that he continues, for good or bad. May it be for the good.’
‘But what if India is torn asunder? I wish to have control myself.’
‘The next reign will be determined by your work, not by your will.’
‘My choice is my work, too.’
Sayana thought: This was the moment he had to speak out!
‘Well, gracious Maharajah: if you choose Ashoka then you break with tradition but the lineage of Chandragupta and Bindusara will rule India. If you choose Sumana then you break off with the spirit of Kautilya’s Arthashastra and the sacrificial priests will dominate your empire.’
‘Since his marriage he is taking better care of government affairs.’
‘So, even worse, his wife, the daughter of a minister, rules.’
The Maharajah faced a dilemma …
‘I thank you, my wise Sayana. I hope to see you again soon.’
The next day, the sacrifice was completed and Chandaka wished to inform the Emperor himself, in the presence of the ministers, Arada and Udra.
‘Did the gods accept your offerings, my Chandaka?’
‘Sire, I doubt if they did. Now I see you did not regain your health. The fires did not roar the way I would have liked, the flames did not rise straight and high towards the sky to convey your precious gifts to the gods. Could it be that Agni was unwilling, Sire? Although the hotars recited the Rig Veda without any errors, I lacked the holy conviction that they were able to convince the gods to take part in the sacrifice. There must have been an obstacle for the gods. Tell me, your Brahman, your principal priest, and I will get ready a new offering, gracious Maharajah.’
The Emperor still found it dificult to speak. ‘I do not deem that to be necessary … my Chandaka.’
‘My Lord, do not test the gods. You may have to appear before them soon, then you should not appear to have failed in your duties, Sire.’
‘What is … the obstacle, Chandaka?’
‘Sire, you did not choose a successor and so not the right successor. Aryavarta expects you to appoint its new Maharajah before Yama summons you to follow him.’
‘And who … is the right successor?’
‘Well, the Crown Prince, your elder son, O, Maharajah. Just say that one word, mighty Lord of all noble Aryans and the gods will be on your side and accept with favour your offerings and return to you your health and to the Aryans their next lawful Lord. Your butter, ghee, and milk will feed them, the meat of the offered animals will strengthen their powers, your soma, will lift up their good spirits, all for the welfare of the Maharajah and his people.’
‘Wait for my … decision, my Chandaka.’
‘Will not there be some risk that the gracious Maharajah will be too late for the gods? Does he not consider the succession by the oldest son of the father a duty of the mightiest ruler of all the Aryans, a holy assignment?’
‘If that was so … a choice is useless.’
‘But it would have your sacred afirmation.’
‘It will have that … even if I choose another one.’
‘My Lord, the priests of Madhyadesa fear your choice and its disastrous consequences.’
‘The gods have placed the choice in my hands … So, wait.’
He waved his hand, fatigued.
When Chandaka’s pressure tactics had failed, he straightaway went to see Ratnaka.
‘Ratnaka … I can no longer tolerate any delay. You put at risk our varna with your indecisiveness. Tomorrow, in a sacred session, the High Council of all priests will absolve you from all responsibility. The Maharajah resists my most urgent warning. Only you can save the varna from the devastation that looms. I demand that you fulfil your duty as a Brahmin.’
‘My duty towards the Maharajah?’
‘Your duty towards our varna, the Aryans, the holy Aryavarta and the gods, towards Brahma!’
‘Sire, wait for a few more days, the heart of the Maharajah is recovering slowly. I will soon let you know when it can happen without danger.’
‘Within three days, at full moon, Chandra’s soma-jug will be filled in the first kala of the night. After that I will not tolerate even one second of delay. Bear in mind that nothing will prevent me from executing the will of the gods, Ratnaka.’
Ratnaka knew what this meant. If Ashoka did not arrive in time, his only way out was flight. Or, death. He warned Sela. Satyavat was sent to Ujjain in great haste to urge the Viceroy to come with utmost speed. Short of a dangerous conflict, Ratnaka would no longer be able to prevent the solemn ceremony of the absolution of guilt and would be reminded of his duty with unrelenting pressure.
Two days went by. The third one began as a radiant morning. Towards the afternoon, a heavy thunderstorm suddenly broke out, and soon passed. But the roads! Ratnaka felt desperate. Flee to Ashoka? Impossible! Tell the Maharajah all! It could cause a setback on his sickness in a very opposing way. Warn Khallataka and Sayana, telling them what Chandaka was demanding of him? Then he would have to acknowledge to both Brahmins who he was: a Shudra. Have both present before the Maharajah when Chandaka wanted to play his dangerous game? What if Ashoka did not come in time …?
Evening fell. Chandra poured out her silvery light over the white towers of the palace, over the silent clusters of trees in the gardens and the sleepy lotus ponds. The kokilas spring night’s songs filled the parks with the richness of Vesanth, the blossoms dispersed their perfumes. Ratnaka, in despair, cautioned Khallataka and Sayana. Earlier, Chandaka, Udra, and Arada departed for the quarters of the Maharajah.
The chief priest suggested to the Maharajah that a new great sacrificial offering be performed to Rudra; the patient hardly responded.
‘Are the fires aflame … O, magician?’
‘Yes, Sire.’
‘Sire, your oldest son …’ whispered Chandaka, only to be dismissed by the Maharajah with a sign of his hand.
‘Sire, do you dare to appear before the gods like this?’ Again the Emperor lifted his hand, dropped it, fatigued.
‘Gracious Maharajah, let Ratnaka give you a mild calming potion. You will have rest and wake up refreshed tomorrow.’ The Maharajah did not answer.
‘Let us go, Ratnaka, we will get it from the pharmacy.’
Chandaka knew where the drug was kept and joined the physician. When they returned, Khallataka and Sayana had arrived. Chandaka was shaken; then he walked up to greet Sayana, who like many Brahmins was an adept in the healing arts as well. Ratnaka understood there was no way to back out. Chandaka had been the instigator but all blame would be placed before him. And nobody knew as yet that he was a Shudra! There was only one way out and the outcome for the Maharajah would be less injurious than the drug!
‘Ratnaka wants to give the Maharajah a mildly working sleeping potion. Nothing is better for the patient than rest,’ Chandaka murmured softly.
Ratnaka examined the patient once more, slowly, to gain time. The heart was functioning very weakly. Then, with great dignity, he turned calmly towards the attendants:
‘Holy Sayana and high ministers, the reverent Chandaka wishes that I administer a soporific, so that the Maharajah, in a state of half-consciousness, will appoint Prince Sumana as the successor to the throne. I refuse. The heart of the patient will not withstand it. It could lead to death.’
The ministers and Sayana were aghast, and rose at the same time from their seats. The Maharajah, startled, raised himself up half-way and
looked dazedly at Ratnaka. His features showed great fear; his strength failed to support him and he fell back onto the cushions.
He managed to address Chandaka: ‘Speak!’
Chandaka turned ashen but recovered immediately.
‘Mighty and Holy Maharajah, I ordered him to give you a very mild sleeping draught, as you have heard. He has taken that out of the pharmacy in my presence. What he has hidden under his gown, I do not know. He thinks perhaps to be able to prevent in some way, You, wise Maharajah, from appointing Sumana as the Crown Prince and successor to the throne! I have nothing to do with that. Let him be searched. Probably he acts on the orders of someone else who desires the ivory throne.’
To the utter surprise of Ratnaka, they did find another drug hidden under his clothes. ‘Holy Maharajah … I did not know this. Three days ago Chandaka and the council of the Brahmin-court forced upon me absolution of all my guilt so that I would take the risk of giving you the dangerous narcotic.’
‘All the members of the council of the Brahmin-court will immediately testify that this pilgrim, who asked for our hospitality, is lying. He speaks falsehood! He does not dare to apply the poison because the holy Sayana is present here. Let him be tortured, mighty Maharajah and he will confess his evil plans. Then will you get to know too, who sent him.’
For one moment Revata considered taking off his disguise in front of Sayana. Sayana knew him from the hermitage, and would understand that Revata was here to protect the Maharajah. But then he would have to make a reference to Ashoka and he knew, by doing so, that he would arouse Bindusara’s suspicion, and possibly harm his beloved master. But there was one irrefutable truth, one fact that kept him the most from doing so: he was a Shudra and as such was despised, without rights, without authority! He kept silent.
The Maharajah seemed disposed to go along with the advice of the priest.
Sayana approached the physician.
‘Are you able to provide proof, Ratnaka, that you are right?’
‘Sire, two months ago Chandaka had the same drug given to Varisara. After that had happened, Varisara wanted to inform the Maharajah, but Chandaka ordered him forthwith to set out on a pilgrimage to Khasi Manipura in furthermost India.’
‘Well, Sire, call back Varisara, then you can unmask the liar.’ Chandaka replied calmly. ‘Varisara himself had chosen the pilgrimage, so did he confess to me, because Ratnaka expected him to be completely cured after that journey. Two Brahmins saw him off. They warned him of the tigers in the jungle but they could not stop him from his holy journey. You see, honoured assembly, the physician attempts with all kinds of lies to conceal his treachery.’
‘Why did you not openly convey your secret, Ratnaka?’ Sayana asked.
That was the crucial question, precisely the one that Ratnaka could not answer.
‘Sire, I wished to protect the Maharajah against the dangerous priests. Today, I was no longer able to, that is why I made my disclosure.’
‘When the tiger is trapped, Sire, he retracts his claws. Force him, through torture, to speak the truth.’
‘Torture him … Udra. I want to know.’
Ratnaka fell to the ground before the Emperor.
‘Gracious Maharajah, they will kill me, like they did Varisara. And then you are not safe anymore from those …’
Even before he could finish, Bindusara’s suspicion had been aroused. He made a sign for his order to be executed.
‘Almighty Lord, I will have two witnesses within a few days.’
The Maharajah waved his hand again, tired, and then laid down on his bed, motionless. Ratnaka was taken away, and all present presumed that a court of Brahmins would execute the order of the Maharajah the next day. Chandaka, however, was in haste; he followed the physician right away and appointed speedily a court of three Brahmins who immediately prepared themselves for the judgement.
In the room of the Maharajah, calm had returned after the exciting turn of events. Sayana tried to do what he could to lessen the suffering of his Lord. It seemed as though Bindusara had fallen asleep. The truth was, Ratnaka’s information had touched the Maharajah deeply and turbulent thoughts brought with them great tension; his decision to hand out a sentence was not to uphold justice against injustice, but the strange physician against the Brahmin-court. In the weak state he was in, it gave him a feeling of great uncertainty. It was an inevitable mistake, he thought.
Into the high-pitched sounds of the night, entering into the room from the park, merged another heavy sound, like thunder from afar. Khallataka listened sharply … Horses? Crossing the bridge over the Son? The sound ceased.
‘Ha!’ he whispered, but in the silence all heard what he said. ‘That is the Viceroy of Ujjain!’
Frightened, as if an earthquake was rumbling through the country, they looked at each other. Sayana saw how the face of the Maharajah had suddenly swelled and his Majesty was about to swoon. He dashed forward and ordered cooling water to be brought quickly. With the help of Khallataka he brought the patient back to consciousness and noticed that Chandaka, who was supposed to be present, had vanished without the permission of the Emperor or Khallataka who had temporarily taken over. He alerted the first minister about it.
‘One who flees is accusing himself, wise Sayana. We will see tomorrow at the court.’
‘Ratnaka!’
They heard a body of riders approaching the palace. And then halting. A little later, Ashoka threw himself down before the Maharajah and kissed his hand.
‘Father … you are very sick!’
Bindusara put his hand on the head of the young Viceroy. In his look, calm suddenly came back as if the fierce uncertainty was no longer a pain in his soul. Then his hands clasped the arm of his strong son.
Khallataka approached the Maharajah.
‘Gracious Maharajah of Aryavarta, appoint now the successor to the throne. This is the son whose vigour is pronounced, as is meant in the 13th line of the 13th prakarana in the Arthashastra. He is the proper one to rule because he has learned compassion by work and suffering.’
Bindusara looked up at his son. Then he spoke, his voice hoarse:
‘My son, the Crown Prince …’ His mouth moved slightly, yet no sound came from his lips. His heart stilled. His hand, which lay as a blessing on Ashoka’s head, went limp.
Sayana approached, and examined the Emperor.
To the Viceroy he said: ‘The Maharajah has passed beyond, Sire.’
All knelt down and lowered their heads to the floor. The magician lit the fires. When the first prayers were completed, Ashoka asked that more palace guards be sent to watch over the remains of his beloved Father. Priests arrived to perform prayers for the deceased and to bring the ritual sacrifices to the gods.
‘Let us withdraw into the council chamber,’ Khallataka said at last. ‘Warn without delay the other ministers and Nata,’ he ordered Radhagupta.
‘Where is Ratnaka? I thought he was treating my father.’
‘Ratnaka has been imprisoned a while ago, accused of wanting to kill the Maharajah.’
Ashoka was shocked. ‘But a few days ago, he sent Satyavat to me with the urgent message that Chandaka wanted to undertake dangerous experiments with the Maharajah. That is proof enough of his innocence! Where is he now?’
‘In prison, we think.’
‘Or in the court hall,’ Sayana thought worriedly.
Ashoka rushed out. In the court hall, Ratnaka had just been tortured with swords because he refused to acknowledge the accusation which the head priest charged him with. Chandaka had been in a great haste.
‘Stop it!’ Ashoka roared, so that all jumped back, frightened, ‘Untie him!’
Then he knelt down before Ratnaka, lifting up his head carefully.
‘Thank Indra that you are here … Sire, Chandaka wanted me to give the Maharajah a drug that would kill him. You once risked your life, Sire … to save mine. Now … I give mine for you.’
Ashoka took the suffering Revata in his arms.
‘Call in Sayana! No! No, my Revata.’
‘Shudra, Sire,’ whispered the tormented one.
‘Tat Tvam Asi, my great friend!’
Revata smiled, and took his last breath. Ashoka laid him down on a pallet and covered him with his own cloak.
‘Who has sentenced Ratnaka!’ he burst out.
‘I, O, Raja. He wished to kill the Maharajah.’
‘Who drove him to his death?’
‘He chose to, himself, Sire.’
‘Who has called for this court?’
‘The Maharajah, Sire.’
‘And who appointed the three members?’
‘I, Sire.’
‘You! Only the Maharajah has the authority to do so, priest!’
‘The holy Maharajah lay ill, Sire.’
‘Then it was Khallataka, who was charged with the administration! Who ordered the harsh torturing?’
‘I, as the head of the court.’
‘Why such haste, Chandaka?’
‘It concerned the Maharajah.’
‘Are you the one to decide so? Know, Chandaka, that you interfered in the rights of the Mauryas in an extreme and unlawful way. You are my prisoner, together with the two other members of this unlawful court. Sagka, you guard these rebels against the Mauryas.’
‘Who tortured Ratnaka, the physician?’
‘We, Sire,’ the three executioners replied in unison.
‘On whose orders?’
The three looked at each other timidly. ‘On the orders of the head of the court, Sire.’
‘On whose order did you kill him? You keep silent! I ask you once more: On whose order did you kill the physician, Ratnaka?’
Again, the three kept silent.
‘Lock them up separately, Sagka.’
9
THE THIRD MAURYA
shoka came back to the Council Hall; on his face was seen no trace of the emotion or of the anger that raged inside.
When the full council of ministers had arrived, Khallataka made known the death of the Maharajah.
‘Here. until now, have I performed my duty. I herewith place the temporary administration of the empire in the hands of Prince Ashoka, the Viceroy of Ujjain, because the Maharajah in the last moments of his life appointed him as the Crown Prince. I request you to proclaim an oath of fealty which will bind you until the anointment of the new Maharajah is performed.’
Ashoka the Great Page 46