Udra rose. ‘Highly respected Khallataka, there is no evidence that the Maharajah did point to Prince Ashoka as his successor. The Emperor did not entirely complete his last words because Yama took him by surprise. He could very well have said: ‘My son … the Crown Prince … is Sumana!’ as: ‘the Crown Prince is Ashoka’. Because the significance of the last words of the Maharajah was very doubtful, the eldest should succeed!’
‘I have often spoken with the Maharajah about the succession and was always under the impression, that, as in the past, the Viceroy of Ujjain was to succeed although our wise Lord did not express this earlier. As his life was ebbing away, however, the Maharajah said to Prince Ashoka: ‘My son, the Crown Prince.’ I request the venerable Sayana to state his opinion.’
‘Maharajah Bindusara discussed often with me the succession. It was always his intention to place Ashoka on the ivory throne. The Maharajah has said, while speaking to Ashoka: ‘My son, the Crown Prince.’
‘And so I call upon all of you to swear the temporary oath of fealty.’
Udra refused and left the hall.
‘That being so, you, high Viceroy of Ujjain, are now the Maharajah. We entrust to you the further course of proceedings. I hope that you will reign as I expect you to. Then Aryavarta will be as blessed as it was under the reign of your wise and holy Father and Grandfather.’
‘I request with gratitude the ministers to continue the work that my beloved Father entrusted to them. No decision, no word, no gesture between you and me must ever, without my explicit permission, go outside the circle of myself and my ministers. If you do not regard yourself as being capable of keeping this pledge or if you do not wish to do so then my immediate request is: refuse the ministerial office and leave the council. When you stay behind you have bound yourself with your life to me, under these conditions.’
Arada, the father-in-law of Sumana, rose from his seat.
‘Honoured Raja of Ujjain, I have admired your skill as the chief of the army and as the ruler in the West. But I am a Brahmin and deem myself bound to the Vedas. I know that no Brahmin priest will anoint you as the Maharajah, because the oldest son of the Maharajah lays his rightful claim to the throne. According to my conscience, he is entitled to do so. Hence, I cannot comply with your binding conditions. I refuse to be your minister and seek your permission to leave this meeting.’
‘I know, highly respected Arada, that your honesty is beyond doubt, like the lotus flower rising above the muddy bed of the pond. Thus, at your request I discharge you.’ After Arada had left, Ashoka continued: ‘Besides the ministers who have remained loyal, I need some men of great dedication and skill. I now appoint Prince Kala as the Viceroy of Ujjain; Sela will be commander-in-chief of the army in Pataliputra; Nata, superintendent of the palace guard, will be the mahamatra of the Intelligence Services; and Satyavat will be superintendent of the Palace Guard. May I hear the opinion of my wise friend Sayana on these decisions?’
‘What I have until now admired most in my young friend, Prince Ashoka, is his genuine insight in overseeing the affairs of State in this great empire, and the correct choice of his confidants. Therefore, I think we can leave to him, with confidence, the choice of these important employees.’
‘And you, my respected ministers?’
All kept silent, signalling their approval.
‘Then I request you all to come here tomorrow in the second kalakramein of the day to define our position towards Prince Sumana.’
The attendants stood up and prepared to leave.
‘It would please me however, if you could be present yet at the first administration of justice that I will perform now instantly, as the Maharajah. Radhagupta and Khallataka will form, together with me, the court.
In the courtroom, the young Maharajah ordered that the three executioners be led in.
‘Take the oath that you will speak the truth, not subject to anyone. Be reminded what this oath means in my empire, according to eternal laws: Your ancestors are in a state of uncertainty while they are awaiting your answers; depending upon the truth or falsehood of your statements, they will go to heaven or fall into hell. The man who gives false evidence will be naked, stripped of his honour and plagued by hunger and thirst. On earth the Maharajah will sentence you if you speak untruth. And my sentence will not be light.’
After the taking of the oath, Ashoka repeated the same question:
‘On whose order did you kill Ratnaka?’ When none of the three men answered, Ashoka called out furiously: ‘Torture with the same swords with which Ratnaka was tortured.’
Horror-struck, the three fell down on the ground before him.
‘Sire … Chandaka has forbidden us to speak and threatened us with the curse of the Brahmins,’ Damka whined.
‘You have sworn the oath because of which you have to speak the truth. Chandaka appointed himself the judge, the Maharajah did not speak!’
‘Sire, Chandaka gave orders to kill him if he refused to plead guilty. When Ratnaka heard the sound of hooves on the bridge over the Sona, he called out: ‘Ha, Raja Ashoka!’ With every torment, he refused to confess. Then Chandaka gave us the pre-arranged sign, whereupon we killed the physician.’
‘Bring in Chandaka, Sagka.’
‘When did the Maharajah appoint you to judge Ratnaka?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘At that time my Father did not mistrust Ratnaka!’ Chandaka started. ‘So, you are lying. Why were the executioners ordered to kill Ratnaka?’
‘Sire, I ordered him to be tortured, not killed.’
‘You lie again. Damka, declare what you acknowledged to all of us a moment ago.’
Without looking up, Damka made the same declaration, in the same words.
‘Why did you allow Ratnaka to be killed, Chandaka?’
‘Because he wanted to poison the Maharajah. I do not know yet at whose order,’ he added brazenly, looking up at Ashoka.
‘For the third time you are lying, Chandaka, highest priest of the Brahmin-court. Ratnaka sent me a message two weeks ago to come to Pataliputra as fast as possible, because you wanted to force him to administer to the Maharajah an anaesthetic drug which his heart might not have been able to bear. So, you wanted to get rid of a difficult witness.’
‘No.’
‘Torture the liar with nails!’ A sharp nail was pushed under the nail of his thumb. A shrill scream filled the room. When they brought the second nail, Chandaka screamed: ‘Yes!’
‘Stop!’ Ashoka commanded the one administering the torture. He turned to the priest once again. ‘So, Why did you send Varisara on his dangerous journey to Khasi Manipura?’
‘He chose his own fate, Sire.’
‘You lie again! Bring in Varisara, Sagka.’ The priest’s face turned white; he reeled.
‘Varisara, perform the oath as a witness and tell us what happened to you.’
Varisara narrated all that had happened. ‘Then I took the road to Khasi, but about an hour later, I heard hoof-beats behind me. Two riders of Sagka rode up, telling me that they had to bring me back to Pataliputra, and that I did not need to fear Chandaka. Sela has kept me out of sight in the camp for some months.’
‘You wanted to give the Maharajah a drug which, according to the most capable physician of Taxila, would have killed the Emperor, Chandaka.’
‘Varisara is insane, Sire. Therefore, he cannot be permitted to be a witness.’
‘Now you, Satyavat, say the oath. Right. Is what Varisara said true?’
‘Yes, Sire, from beginning to end.’
‘So, you wanted to force the Maurya, the ruling Emperor of Aryavarta, to effectuate your own will, at the risk of killing him. You, who as a priest of the Brahmin-court had to protect your Overlord in the first place!’
‘Sire … that same medication did not harm Varisara. I thought …’
‘Ratnaka, who knew better than you, warned you more than once. But you confess to the deed!’
Chandaka kept silent.
/> ‘You do not?’
Chandaka looked at the Maharajah insolently but kept his mouth shut.
‘Sagka, the swords!’
Chandaka, who saw that the Raja meant it, then replied hesitatingly: ‘Yes, Sire.’
‘And the two other judges knew that you wanted to give the Maharajah the deadly drug?’
‘Yes, Sire.’
‘Do you acknowledge that, Lambawa?’
‘Yes, Sire.’
‘And you, Panthaka?’
‘Yes, Sire.’
‘Do you have anything to ask yet, judges Khallataka and Radhagupta?’
The two judges kept silent.
‘Then I punish these three Brahmins with the most severe sentence reserved for their varna: death by drowning in the Ganga, because they have attempted to murder the reigning Maharajah of Aryavarta and permitted the judicial killing of the physician of the Maharajah. Tomorrow morning at the rising of Surya, the sentence will be carried out. Sagka, you will make sure this sentence is carried out to the letter. Herewith I end this court.’
When at last Ashoka and Khallataka were the only ones left in the empty hall, the old minister said: ‘Grant them a reprieve, Sire. Hard labour in the mines of the Himalayas is also a very severe sentence for these priests. The Brahmin-court is powerful in your empire.’
‘It is because of that I want to let them feel what the limits are under my reign. I do not tolerate an infringement on the rights of the Mauryas. The priests have to know who is now ruling Pataliputra. They, as the first ones!’
‘I fear remorse may come after the deed.’
‘Not a whit do I want to give in to these assassins who do not spare the Mauryan Princes nor the Maharajah himself!’ Khallataka bent his head.
‘Now I have to ask of you a great service, my respected Khallataka.’
‘Any service you ask of me is like an order to me, O, Maharajah.’
‘I cannot lose a minute in my measures concerning the army. Therefore, go immediately to the army camp and appoint Sela as the army chief. Then you are to summon the chiefs of the different army units and report to them the death of the Maharajah and my succession. Sela knows what he has to do.’
Khallataka left. Ashoka made sure that he was escorted by a strong body of guards.
When the chiefs of the army brigades gathered in the audience hall on the orders of Khallataka, he spoke to them:
‘Noble Kshatriyas, with great sadness in my heart, I have to inform you that our sacred Maharajah has departed from the earth to enter the kingdom of Yama.’ All of them bowed deeply and began praying for the soul of the beloved Emperor.
‘I understand your grief which cannot be deeper than mine. As the oldest minister, I knew and respected the Maharajah. Bindusara’s son, Ashoka, who was appointed by the Maharajah before his death to be Crown Prince and successor, as I and Sayana and others present can bear witness, immediately accepted his kingship. He is now your Maharajah.’
All had listened to Khallataka in deep silence. Soon, Prince Sampadi could restrain himself no longer. Outwardly calm and with a steadfast voice, he commenced:
‘Honoured minister Khallataka, know, that we will not recognise my brother Ashoka as Maharajah. In the name of the lawful successor, Sumana, I take over the command of the army, until the Crown Prince appears in Pataliputra. Tell me, commanders of the units, if you will obey me till that time.’
‘Yes!’ The cry thundered through the hall.
Khallataka went on quietly. ‘Allow me, as the oldest minister of Emperor Bindusara, to convey to you the further decisions of the Maharajah. The Kshatriya Sela is appointed as Commander-in-Chief and you are all discharged from the army. Only Sela can recruit you again.’
The response of the soldiers was jeering laughter. Sampadi jumped up and cried:
‘Friends, return to your units! Take care that all arm themselves! In the name of the Crown Prince and the rightful Maharajah Sumana, I order you to be prepared at all times for the battle against the Raja who thinks he can unlawfully appropriate for himself the ivory throne! Take this message to the rebel, O, Khallataka. Come on friends, the army obeys me, till such time your rightful leader comes!’
Everyone rushed excitedly to the doors. Outside, Sela had silently laid siege to the building with a large body of heavily armed riders whom he could trust fully.
‘Lay down your arms and surrender to the army chief of the new Maharajah!’ Sela called out calmly.
‘Not to the army chief of a throne-thief,’ Sampadi cried, and attacked Sela fiercely. Others followed.
‘Imprison them!’ Sela’s voice was heard over the erupting noise. A violent fight followed but Sela had picked very experienced soldiers who were also far more in number. Soon, the supporters of Sumana were overcome, and only Prince Sampadi continued to fight like a madman.
‘Surrender, Prince Sampadi, and you will be allowed to leave the camp in freedom.’
‘I do not want a favour from robbers. You … or I … chief of the army!’
Calmly, Sela turned towards him and in a fierce battle the Prince received a fatal blow from the sword of one of the most experienced soldiers in Ashoka’s army. Sumana’s friends were transported to the prisoners’ camp that Sela had arranged since long.
Early in the morning, long before Ushas set the eastern horizon aglow, the most trustworthy squad of some thousands of horsemen left for the capital, in support of the new Maharajah.
Nata had gathered in the big hall the inhabitants of the ladies’ quarters as well as the children of the Maharajah who were minors. There, Ashoka informed them of the death of Bindusara.
‘In the future, you will have to place yourselves under my authority as Maharajah,’ he finished. At first there was silence. Gopali fainted and was carried back to her room by the female slaves, accompanied by Jalini and other friends. Subhadrangi went pale with emotion and could scarcely utter a word. She embraced her son. Hara and Samgati offered their expressions of joy to the young Emperor and a few Princes followed their example.
There was great excitement in the capital. The death of the Maharajah was announced by a town crier, accompanied by the heavy thudding of the dhol, the big drum. To the great surprise of the people it was announced that Ashoka would be the successor. Everywhere the people of the town clustered together. The craftsmen left their work, the merchants their markets, the masters their ships on the Ganga; everyone rushed to the centre of the town. More and more people were gathering along the Emperor’s Road. News became rumour, and the rumours swelled in no time, growing into the wildest of legends. And while the bards sang praises about the fame of the deceased Maharajah, and the women wept emotionally, the first offerings were brought in by the pious citizens. Meanwhile, the ghantas, the big gongs of the temples, rang loud and sonorously all over the town. Friends of the Brahmin-court mingled with the excited crowds, adding to the unrest. They whispered about the unlawfulness of Ashoka’s succession.
‘How is it possible the Wild Prince arrived so swiftly in Pataliputra?’
‘Well, through the air, of course. He is the very Lord of the three worlds! Shiva!’
‘Lord of the hells! That is more fitting,’ a stranger risked saying.
‘Mind what you say, priest-crow!’
‘The Wild Prince has proclaimed himself Maharajah. How dare he! Soon, the Crown Prince will return with his army from Taxila, and then we can fear the worst.’
‘Do you think that Prince Ashoka fears Prince Sumana? Incarnation of Shiva, god of death!’
‘And of life!’ called out a sword-maker, who had crafted chakras for Ashoka.
‘The Maharajah must have died of fear when the ferocious warrior entered.’ Many of them looked fearfully at the speaker.
‘No wonder. The look from his eye slays a wild elephant,’ someone else added.
‘They say he had Prince Sampadi killed last night, when he arrived from Ujjain. Prince Sampadi wanted the eldest Prince to succeed.’
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��On top of that he killed with his sword the palace physician, Ratnaka, when Chandaka wanted to protect Bindusara.’
‘Minister Khallataka, who takes the side of Ashoka, had along with Radhagupta dressed Ashoka in the clothes of Sumana; he then put all his ornaments on him and applied saffron on Ashoka’s face so that he would resemble Sumana and then he let him hastily be appointed as the Crown Prince by the Maharajah who had nearly lost consciousness. So, he thought it was really his eldest son that he appointed. A palace slave told me so.’
‘A fine way to steal a throne!’ risked the same stranger.
‘The whole harem has opposed Ashoka’s succession and he has locked them all up in their chambers. Any Prince or Princess who speaks out in favour of Sumana will be killed without mercy. They say that several brothers and sisters of the Wild Prince have already been killed. A young priest of the Brahmin-court told me.’
‘The sacrificial priests can expect little favours from him. The soldiers say he never performs sacrifices.’
‘But he has nothing to expect from the priests either,’ a sharp-tongued penitent called out.
‘How can the government of Aryavarta be entrusted to someone who never offers sacrifices! Prince Sumana is a pious man.’
‘And Prince Ashoka is Shiva himself! Why then should he perform sacrifices to the gods! Krishna appears on earth when people are in distress; Shiva, when law and order almost collapses, because of the greed of certain subjects,’ a martial Kshatriya cried out, one who hated the sacrificial priests.
‘Who do you dare accuse of greed here?’ the penitent called angrily and many bystanders turned against the Kshatriya.
‘They say that Ashoka wants to kill all the priests of the Brahmin-court,’ the stranger said. ‘At sunrise, the first three will be drowned in the Ganga.’
‘Keep quiet. There come heavily armed riders. They are accomplices of Ashoka!’
‘Let us go to the Ganga, I want to see if he dares to! The army chiefs will not tolerate it!’ the penitent called out excitedly.
Ashoka the Great Page 47