‘Highly revered Ajamidha, only gratitude remains in me for your wise insight and self-sacrificing attitude. Permit me, however, to ask Asandhimitra two questions: Do I not break, by accepting Ajamidha’s offer, a mutual love, which has more rights than this?’
‘No, Sire, as yet I have not given my love to anyone,’ Asandhimitra’s clear, rich voice sang melodiously.
‘And do you wish to bind yourself to my life, now that you have seen me? Here, Asandhimitra, my rough hand! Look at my face; Sumana’s mother, Gopali, who hated me, was not the only one to call it rough. I cannot bear that my Rani should hate me for what the gods have meant for me to have!’
‘Sire, a woman loves the outward man only for his inner being.’
‘You do not know that yet.’
‘Father’s greatest friend is the holy Sayana, whose words find confirmation in your eyes, Sire.’
Ashoka looked at her with a searching look … Madri … Devi …
‘So, you wish to become a Rani in my harem?’ he said at last.
‘Father thinks it is a command of the gods. I wish it only if I can soothe the gaze of the mighty Maharajah to prudence and friendliness. And you permit, Sire, that I learn to love you.’
Asandhimitra’s earnestness and dignity touched the Maharajah even more than her beauty. He immediately had the most beautifully situated rooms in the ladies’ quarters prepared for her. He then allowed her to be presented to his mother, Subhadrangi.
Then, like a poisonous tick that crawls out of the lotus flower in a vase, distrust suddenly raised its head: Could it be betrayal in its most beautiful guise? As soon as the thought flickered in his mind, he took precautions: Rohini was appointed as the temporary servant to the Rani-to-be, Satyavat was given orders for her security; Girika sent, at Ashoka’s order, a capable spy as a pilgrim to the hermitage, to find out the true intentions of Ajamidha.
Meanwhile, news about Sumana’s army arrived regularly. Ashoka knew the troops were not a serious match for him but he knew, too, that the Council of priests would never give up. The gods were with them, over whom even an Ashoka could not prevail! The Maharajah understood, it would turn into a struggle between brother and brother. But he could not understand the stupidity of Sumana’s council who thought of going to war against him with a worthless army. He preferred to see them as rebels; then he need not take into account difficult considerations. Every time he thought of seizing his mighty weapon, the army, which was dedicated to him, the image of his friends appeared in his mind’s eye: Sayana, Kullika, Khallataka. None of them would approve, even worse. And was not he, in spite of his great power, dependent on them? And was it not his love for Bindusara as well, that just like theirs, stood in the way of befitting measures? But then what? Chandaka had experienced what it meant to be up against him. Did Sumana and his other four brothers deserve any better? Tolerate them perhaps, he could, but meeting them hidden in the darkness in front of him was something he did not wish. What would Asandhimitra say? She was not prejudiced, influenced neither by him nor by Sumana. Of course, she would say: Don’t kill! He knew that kind. Yet, his indecisiveness about Sumana drove him towards her. Immediately he sent a message to Satyavat that he wished to see Asandhimitra. After a thorough investigation, Satyavat informed him that everything was safe.
‘Beautiful Asandhimitra, you come from a hermitage where peace and friendliness reign. Do you know of the world in which you are living right now?’
‘I heard something about it from your mother, Subhadrangi, O Maharajah. It worries me deeply …’
‘Was it vanity that drove you to Pataliputra?’
Startled, Asandhimitra looked up at the Emperor.
‘Vanity, you say, O, Mighty Maharajah? My lovely hermitage in the jungle beside the murmuring Sarayu, where I love every living being: the kokila in the tree, the deer at the creek. Where everything strives towards unity with the eternal Atman.
One is the fire that so frequently flames up,
One is the sun, radiating the earth,
The one morning sky, red, shines above all,
One, is this too which became all …2
‘Here, if I may believe your Mother, everyone strives for power, so for disunity, so for enmity. My Father, true as the white Meru, did not keep you uninformed of the reasons for which he let me go to Pataliputra. It must be my ignorance, O, Maharajah! Before my talk with Subhadrangi, I had not been fully aware that here, at your court, the events of a world empire are conducted, decisions are made about the death or wellbeing of thousands of people and animals; messages and orders are going out and coming in from far away countries, about which I had not even dreamt. I, from whom some influence could reach out to the mightiest Maharajah, feel as a child of two in your Council of high ministers, where you introduced me yesterday. Send me back, Sire, to where I may make at least a few beings happy … if you think that it is vanity that drove me.’
‘When you wish to return to your father’s hermitage, beautiful Asandhimitra, I shall by no means stop you. But Mother Subhadrangi views it wrongly. A child has no judgement, no goal, no experience. But you represent a principle for which you desired to offer your beautiful life, Asandhimitra; and a principle, that, in the end, should count as the highest that a human being can reach.’
Asanhimitra looked at him; a happy smile broke through, like a beam of sun upon the hazy splendour of flowers in the dark jungle in Vasanth. Ashoka was charmed.
‘Father’s imagination of life in the capital may have been a little too simple.’
‘Your Father has, with the wisdom of a sage, sensed what is lacking in the heart of the empire and in a young Maharajah.’
‘A child learns to walk only slowly, Sire; a Brahmacharin has to struggle through a learning period of many years before he is introduced to the sacred doctrine. How then can one expect from a gracious Maharajah, in the first year on his exalted throne, to reach the highest step of wisdom!’
‘That is wise thought, Asandhimitra. I would like to hear your views which as yet are not prejudiced. Listen …’ And Ashoka told her the story of his life, his years with his guru Kullika, Sumana’s opposition and his repeated attempts to kill him, his own work in the north and the south-west of the empire and his seizing of power.
‘Now, Sumana is nearing the capital with an army that may not be small in numbers but is weak in its fighting spirit. It is led by a council of Brahmins who are convinced that the gods will come to their help and so they will defeat me. I have the power and I feel inclined to sweep him away from Aryavarta’s soil together with his ministers and army and all. My army is capable of destroying his completely and in no time. What shall I do?’
Asandhimitra listened with rapt attention.
‘It is better that he for the fourth time should attempt to kill you, you who are mighty and warned, than that you should as the first one make an attempt on his life, O, Maharajah.’ This appreciation of his war-strategy struck Ashoka unpleasantly.
‘He commits an attack on the country!’
‘But that is what you can prevent, you are the mightiest one. Remember: five sons of Bindusara, and Aradi … pregnant …’
‘And what, when they lose their mad war?’
‘Try to convince them that they are committing a silly folly.’
‘Do you think they will then withdraw meekly, Asandhimitra? They think they have the support of the gods and view that as being mightier than the mightiest army.’
‘All gods, except Shiva.’
‘Maybe, except Shiva. But they will not be deterred nor withdraw.’
‘You cannot leave it untried, O, Maharajah. You are now the Emperor of your foes as well as of your friends, like Brihaspati is god over the Brahmins as well as Chandalas, the tiger as well as the lamb. Are you not threatened by a danger, you are not aware of as yet, Sire?’
That night, the Maharajah held a Council of the Ministers at which Sayana was also present. Ashoka explained how the situation was developing.
‘May I first hear the opinion of our youngest minister, Radhagupta?’
‘I greatly thank the gracious Maharajah, who wishes to hear my opinion before the more experienced and wise men have given their more valuable opinion. The way I see it is that only a speedy and instant attack can avert all danger. Merely by returning to Pataliputra, Sunasepha and Shakuni already deserve death, based on Bindusara’s sentence. The Brahmin-court has to be cleared up tomorrow in the harshest way, just like the cavalry has to be cleared of any suspect element. You cannot tolerate high treason in your empire. The army has to encounter Sumana’s, and if necessary, destroy it. Only then will the Maharajah be safe, his government established, and the country return to orderliness.’
‘May I set against this what the honourable Sayana thinks?’
‘My friend Piyadasi has always shown how he is able to enforce his plans without a war. Why should he now destroy a whole army, why kill the sons of his father! Does one let the jungle-fire burn when one can save the woods? Does one let the fields dry out and let the Vaishyas languish when Surya blazes his fiery rays? Or, drown the herd when the Ganga swells into a wild sea? The human being has his heart, his manas. Brihaspati expects from the Maharajah more sensible wisdom, since he granted him, through his manas, infinite power, and thus greater responsibility, for Aryan and Mletcha. No one of us wishes Sumana to be the Maharajah, but that does not mean that our sword has to wipe him out and his people. They, too, are revelations of the Atman, just like us. I expect Pyadasi to take different measures.’
‘I want law and justice, my Sayana.’
‘But a higher law than manslaughter or the killing of brothers.’
‘And you, my Khallataka?’
‘Send a delegation to Kashi, Sire, and offer Sumana the position of the Viceroy of Takshasila or Ujjain, to prevent bloodshed.’
‘In the West, the viceroys have already been appointed. Moreover, I consider Raja Sumana unsuitable to be a governor. A place to live and money in accordance with his status, more I cannot offer him.’
‘Then offer him that as ultimate, gracious Maharajah.’
‘The next morning, the ministers Aruna and Kala left for Kashi. They were received in a meeting of Sumana and his brothers, the council, and the army commanders. When Aruna conveyed Ashoka’s message, it aroused great indignation. The Rani spoke first:
‘Tell your lord, high ministers, that the Crown Prince does not wish to discuss his rights. The gods are with us. As the oldest son of the deceased Maharajah, Raja Sumana, requests Prince Ashoka to leave Pataliputra immediately.’
‘May I request the high Raja to validate these decisions?’
‘I do not negotiate with the envoys of a throne-thief and insurgent.’
Both ministers stood up.
‘I only wish to warn you that Ashoka’s army is combative, heavily armed and vigorously trained.’
Sumana’s minister answered: ‘Maybe, the army in the capital is strong but the gods will fight on our side, where the law is.’
‘I feel sorry that I can give the high Raja little hope.’
Everyone kept silent. To Aruna the silence seemed almost painful.
‘I request now, O, Raja, to be permitted to return to Pataliputra.’
Sumana did not move; the first minister only nodded. The two ministers left after this serious insult and travelled as quickly as possible to Pataliputra.
The same day a great offering ceremony was performed in Kashi and the following morning, they started to cross the Ganga, whereupon the Bhils and Rajputans resumed their fake attacks and troubled again the marching army. There was only one thing they looked after with the most sublime perfection: the offering ceremony. Not a single mistake was made in the chanting of mantras and the samhitas were recited with the exact tonality, which would impel the gods to do what they asked. That the mountain tribes were not able to do anything against the prayers of the priests was clear. The slightest resistance and they were driven away. Unconcerned, Sumana’s army went on. Soon, the gates of Pataliputra would open up for the rightful Maharajah. That was how it was foretold to him. The people would cheer him. So, the priests wished it and thus the gods. Everyone knew that there was a direct connection with the gods: there were the twelve men in the finest priests’ garb, who would defend them against the most dangerous violence. They spoke with no one; during the offering ceremony they were seated as silent witnesses, in the first row, and with their feet on the kusha-grass. Madhava, a fanatical priest of the Brahmin-court was their leader and accompanied them day and night. They were treated with the highest respect even by the high Council of the Raja. More the soldiers did not know about them and neither did Ashoka’s spies.
As irresponsible as Sumana’s command was, as timely and strong was Ashoka’s. The only problem was, however, that his opponents might commit the folly of an attack, propelled by their naïve belief. Asandhimitra, though, was afraid of the twelve priests, about whom Ashoka’s informants had spoken. Ashoka thought that women placed too great a value on the mysterious ceremonies of the priests. Daily the Maharajah discussed with Sayana and Khallataka how the battle between brothers could be avoided. Ashoka feared that nothing could move the pedantic counsellors of the stupid Raja, to give up their path of folly and destruction. Or, was there a secret that he could not solve as yet? After all, neither bravery nor skill could save them! They had to know that themselves, too. What was there then?
13
THE OTHER SALYA
alya had been worried for a long time about the other penitent who was roaming around in Pataliputra, using his name, dressing up like him and imitating his voice, who made his appearance amongst the people, just like he did. He himself often expressed the view that the Brahmin-court would never anoint the new Maharajah. According to rumours, Ashoka had once in a rage killed three Brahmins amongst whom was the chief of the Brahmin-court. ‘Richika?’ startled, people had wanted to know. In reply, Salya had shrugged his shoulders but his face seemed to imply confirmation. The new Salya shared the secrets of the first one and made common cause with the opponents of Ashoka. Yet, scared as he was, Salya did not dare to meet his look-alike whom he had never seen closely in public for discovery would mean his death. Ashoka would not hesitate to dispatch him the same way he had Chandaka.
The new Salya strolled along the King’s Road deep in thought: How could he attain his goal? He appeared to be indifferent to what was happening around him. Timidly and with respect, everyone gave way to the person who was considered to be a great and holy man. Evidently, his karma allowed him to perform terrifying wonders! Sagka’s cavalry-men pulled on their reins when he was crossing the road. Vendors offered him their fruits or sweetmeats; but this day he did not even deign to look at them. Only when they had to give him what appeared to be a message, did he stop to speak. Sometimes, a Vaishya or a Kshatriya, dressed inconspicuously, walked up to him, whispered a few words in his ear and disappeared as fast as he had come.
Suni … Shakuni … Maybe, Kampaka was right. He had to find out but how? Risk showing up at the tiger-rock? Could Suni be deceived? The guard of the temple? Kampaka had described the temple carefully to him but a casual visit was too dangerous. He would have to wait.
A young priest who had been following him for some time approached somewhat hesitantly.
‘Sire, Suni wishes to talk to you.’ He was startled and thought for a while.
‘Tonight … not earlier … I am shadowed,’ Salya whispered, cautiously looking around. ‘Towards dusk!’
Was it a trap? Quietly, he considered what he should—could—do. It was too risky! Suni knew the real Salya thoroughly. Was it possible to mislead him? But the opportunity was too tempting. Only one thing was possible if it failed, seize him. But he had to try, however small the chance of success to play the real Salya so well that even Suni would not notice. First taking care of his safety! The young priest had long since disappeared out of sight. He gave a sign, and a moment later, a youn
g man joined him.
‘Imprison Salya instantly and keep him locked up until the second kalakramein of the night. Send towards dusk a strong guard in and around the Brahma-temple.’
Salya entered the temple as dusk fell. The dim light would be of help to him. In front of and inside the temple some devotees were prostrating, seemingly in deep prayer. He strode straightaway to the secret room of the priest. His bearing showed strong excitement, his voice fear.
‘Where is Suni? Quick!’ he demanded hoarsely. He was brought to the fortune-teller. ‘All is betrayed, Shakuni.’ He saw right away that it was Devaka’s helper before him. ‘The spies of the Shudra recognised me! If the Crown Prince does not come quickly, Ashoka will drown us in the Ganga or fling a chakra at our throats! A moment ago the other Salya was imprisoned. Evidently, they were looking for me!’
‘The wretch! Then he serves some purpose yet!’
‘And if the throne thieves have me and you are imprisoned?’
‘Why did you not have him disappear?’
‘Impossible, everyone believes he is my other self. I myself have admitted it in agreement with you yourself!’
‘You are right, Sunasepha.’
In spite of growing excitement, Salya concealed his joy over this name. ‘What have you to tell me?’
‘I heard that two ministers, Aruna and Kala, are on their way to Prince Sumana to negotiate with him. I have to know what will be said there. Try to find out what is being said from Ashavita.’
Ashoka the Great Page 51