‘Do you not fear betrayal?’
‘No fear. Sumana himself does not even know the purpose of the twelve priests in his army. Madhava can be fully trusted and Labha has made real sramanas1 of the twelve warriors here. The Shudra shall not dare to violate their priestly garb in the battle. And were it to fail there, well, inside the Ganga gate they certainly will not surmise evil intentions under the cloaks of the sramanas. Twenty-four chances which mean certainty, Sunasepha. The Shudra has but one life! And once the Shudra has gone, the way is open for the Crown Prince. Nobody will oppose his succession anymore.’
‘Yet, only one has to lose his courage!’ Sweat was dripping from Salya’s rough face.
‘That is well taken care of. Their deed is declared sacred through offering upon offering. Any manner of hesitation will cost them their lives. That they know! If they succeed then a great worldly bounty awaits them. They are all well trained and fanatical warriors!’
‘But you! The army! I! I am no longer safe in the streets of Pataliputra!’
‘Well …’ Shakuni’s features hardened, showing a fanatical fury. ‘Does Sunasepha from cowardliness fear for his life? Then have a lucky escape! You were successful before! What does it matter whether you or I or the army goes under. If only the Shudra falls! Then the gods and our varna are saved!’
Salya stood up. ‘You will hear from me tomorrow. If I am not resting on the waves of the Ganga. Pray for my poor soul, Shakuni.’
‘Our varna demands any sacrifice, be it your life or mine!’
‘Salya’ sped to the palace. The problem was solved. He will deal with Salya tomorrow, at the market square, amidst all the people of Pataliputra! That had to be done for his Lord!
The following morning he found the real Salya at the market. There, the penitent forecast the future to his listeners, amongst whom were several helpers of Maskarin. He foretold hard times when battles would rage, and warned the people to adopt the right attitude and not provoke the gods’ ill-favour. The other Salya forced his way through the spectators, who got upset and gave way, so he could place himself in front of the priest and look at him for a while. Many of the onlookers shivered to behold this uncanny resemblance of the two penitents.
‘Who are you, penitent?’ he asked at last.
‘Salya. And you?’
‘Salya! I am pleased to meet you, Salya.’ From every side, curious people drew near. ‘My memory is bad. Where did I separate myself from you? Yes, yes, I am your second self. You forced me by your strong religious power, to depart for Pataliputra. Is that not so, Salya?’
‘For sure, Salya. Come, let us go on.’
‘Why such haste! When did you decide to send me to the capital? Did you not wish to go yourself? Or, was it not permitted? Come on, tell us, Salya! Life is tedious here for me. I wish to return to the jungle, to the hermitage. Give account to me why you forced me to come to live this restless life, harming our karma. What was your name again, Salya, when you were doing penance in the jungle?’
‘That does not matter, Salya, come!’ The penitent was evidently upset but the other one kept himself no less excited.
‘First, I have to know your name and mine! I cannot find my self again! I walk here between the people, unborn, of no mother. Who are you and who am I? Where did you live? In the jungle?’
‘Yes, near the Terai.’
‘How long were you a penitent, Salya, before you sent me off?’
‘For a thousand years I kept to the strict ascetic’s life in the jungle.’
‘Agreed, agreed, Salya. Now I do remember. You were living there with three other penitents. I cannot recollect their names! What were their names? Help me! As you have sent me off with such a poor memory you have to tell me their names.’
‘I have shared the hermitage with many penitents.’
‘Yes, yes, but the last three great penitents. You remember: there came a Prince, a Prince, Salya! A beautiful young Prince!’
‘No, beautiful he was not.’
‘Yes, they locked up the Prince inside a shed, a cowshed with high palisades. And then they wanted the murderers to come and kill him. Kill a Maurya Prince, Salya! What were the names of those murderers? Do you remember, Salya?’
Salya could not utter a word but his look-alike went on:
‘Was not his name, Richika? Yes, Richika. He had been the chief of the Brahmin-court. We were there too, Salya, were not we? You were me and I was you. Do you remember the other two?’ He turned to the crowd. ‘Keep quiet for a moment, friends.’
‘Yes, now it is becoming clear again. Devaka and Tritsus, exiled from Magadha, the knaves, by the holy Maharajah Bindusara. Because they had attempted to kill Prince … Prince Ashoka. Prince Ashoka was locked in by Shakuni in that cowshed, together with Ratnaka, the great physician, who was later tortured to death by Chandaka. Prince Ashoka and Ratnaka, though, did not allow themselves to be killed! They ordered the priests to set them free. Was that not so, Salya? But Devaka knew that Prince Sumana would soon arrive with the murderers. Then Shiva had punished them, killed them with his chakra. I feel so happy, Salya, I remember everything again! And now you and I, Salya. Who was I, who were you? What was my name, what was yours? We were one, were we not, one priest!
‘Salya …’ Sunasepha stammered, aghast.
‘Salya? No, no, we were … Listen.’ His look-alike lowered his head, appeared to be thinking deeply, searching for some name. The onlookers listened in excitement and suspense. Some shivered with fear, others had turned pale upon witnessing the magic in front of their eyes. Salya tried to elude the other man’s grip but the two were hemmed in by a thickly-packed throng of curious people. Maskarin’s helpers, at his orders, let no one get through.
‘Come on, Salya, we shall return to the jungle!’ Sunasepha tried to free himself from the circle, but the other Salya did not let go.
‘Just a moment yet, Salya. Who are we, you and I? Who was that priest who dissolved into two beings and two minds? Every person is two: a good and a bad one, but joined. Why do we have to live, divided, in this wretched city? What is your name?’
‘Salya. And now I leave. Follow me!’
‘Ha, Salya, now I do recognise us again. You, and … I are Sunasepha. Were we not for ever exiled from this city by the holy Maharajah Bindusara? Away to the jungle! If Prince Ashoka finds us here he will throw us into the Ganga, the most grave sentence for a priest! We are lost! We wanted to have him killed! Let us go, let us go to the jungle! Where is Shakuni? He called for the murderers from Pataliputra, he was freed by us and the Ragis from the mines! Warn him! He is the fortune-teller of the Brahma-temple!’
The crowd did not let the penitents go; Maskarin took care of that. The circle remained enclosed. The cavalry-men of Sagka were alerted and both Salyas were taken prisoners. The other Salya asked permission to warn his friend living nearby. He went in and a few seconds later an old bhikshu2 left the house. The leader of the riders knew it was Maskarin who sped away. The wonders of the day became even more astonishing for the people when the other Salya did not return. He left without a trace. Immediately the legend spread that both penitents had merged again into one Sunasepha. Like a whirlwind the news swept through the town that Sunasepha and Shakuni had returned to the city in spite of the harsh sentence passed on them by Bindusara, and were inciting the people against Maharajah Ashoka.
Ashoka then ordered the imprisonment of Shakuni, Simha, the secret council of the Brahmin-court and other undesirable members. Shakuni, though, had disappeared. Favourable feelings for Ashoka grew considerably in the capital.
Sumana approached Pataliputra from the right bank of the Ganga but Sela had positioned his large forces at the southern part of the town as well. The clash was unavoidable. At the ministers’ council, Sayana and Asandhimitra made one more attempt to prevent the catastrophic encounter. Aruna and Kala thought that the lechers of the gods had to face their doom. Asandhimitra pleaded that they should send Sayana to the camp of Sumana, as he w
as the only one who might still convince Sumana, Aradi and the army commanders of their folly which had its seed in their disappointment. Could one view disappointment always as stupidity, or bellicosity as unjust?
‘I do not dare to refuse, if the Maharajah allows me and the ministers’ council sees the useful purpose of it.’
14
BROTHERS
ayana was received with great reverence.
‘What brings the holy Sayana to honour our camp with his visit?’
‘Respect for the will of Emperor Bindusara, fear of a battle between brothers, and the conviction that no one knows better than I do, how fatally harmful your enterprise is.’
Sayana proceeded to explain the situation: that there was not the slightest chance of a victory for Sumana, that Pataliputra was now pleased with the new Maharajah, as was a major portion of Bindusara’s empire.
On Sumana’s face a smile appeared.
‘Holy Sayana, do you know that I made offerings to the gods, day after day? That each of those offerings is performed by the most capable priests? That any possible error was made impossible by the hotar, udgatar, advaryu and principal priest? Or, do you believe that Ashoka is capable of fighting against the gods? Against Indra? What can a Raja do—he who does not perform offerings—against the overriding merits of my priests, accumulated through years!’
‘Shiva took away the body of god Kama with one ray from his eye. There is an offering of the earnest will and the deed, too, which is part of the Atman. Well, my Sumana, this offering of Ashoka by far exceeds that of your priests.’
An uneasy silence fell on the meeting. Sumana’s first minister, who felt the deep impact of Sayana’s words, was the first to voice his feelings:
‘We know, holy Sayana, that your feelings towards Sumana are as ill-disposed as they are of affection for the Wild Prince. Perhaps, you will understand that we feel just the contrary. That is why we look at the future differently. The choice of the new Maharajah will not depend on the keenness of a sword or on the speed of an arrow but on the will of the gods, who will anoint the Maharajah through their priests.’
‘Ashoka will be Maharajah if need be without your anointment! A weak, dependent Maharajah will find in your anointment a very necessary supplement to stand up against unruly subjects. A mighty, exceedingly capable Emperor, like Ashoka, can rule just as well with or without your ceremony. When you do not surrender yourself to that fact, you sacrifice the army, the imperial family, the capital, the peace of the empire, for your lust for power. The whole world whispers that in Ashoka, Shiva has incarnated. And Shiva is Lord of death and life. Ashoka’s army, that devotes itself to Shiva, awaits you in Pataliputra.’
‘Sayana thinks he is able to frighten us.’
‘I want to save you from delusion and from certain defeat. Your enterprise is as foolish as when you want to have a mongoose trample an elephant and, for its success, have a thousand priests sacrificed.’
‘When we go after them, the wild hill-tribes from the Vindhyas fade away like the morning mist before the sun,’ Sumana boasted.
‘Because Ashoka forbade them to attack. He merely wished to discover how strong you are. He knows your fighting strength. Do you know his? He has swept aside all the dangers which were threatening him. Did you do that, too? Sunasepha, the secret council of the Brahmin-court and all the betrayers in the army, have been imprisoned. What do you still expect to achieve? Accept the inevitable and take what Ashoka is offering you.’
‘The holy Sayana is a good defender of Ashoka’s case.’
‘You are mistaken, first minister of the Raja. I am defending your Lord against you. Ashoka is able to defend himself better than any of you, or even us, can do. For me it is horrendous to see the two sons of my beloved Maharajah Bindusara march against each other. I know what the end will be if you persist with your plans. For that I wish to save Raja Sumana.’
‘You forget, holy Sayana,’ interposed Sumana’s wife, ‘that my husband is the oldest son of the Maharajah, that he has always honoured the gods and the laws of the country, that the Brahmin priests will anoint only Sumana as the Emperor of India and that Indra and the people will acknowledge only him. What does it matter therefore that your friend Ashoka has an army that is stronger than that of the Crown Prince! Neither Sumana nor I, nor the council of our ministers, will disobey the command of the gods: ‘Go to Pataliputra and have Sumana anointed as Maharajah of India.’ Let that be known to your lord.’
‘I feel sorry, high Rani, that you and your husband risk your lives, the soldiers their fame, and the priests their faith.’
‘You talk as if you doubt the power of the gods,’ Aradi spoke haughtily.
‘You act as though you disbelieve Shiva. I fear you will realise too late your great mistake.’
Sayana bowed to the Rani, saluted the others, before returning to the capital.
Ashoka then had his army wait in ambush in a semi-circle from the south gate close to the road along the side of the Ganga. In front were the heavily armed war chariots, backed by war-elephants. The foot soldiers were behind them. The Bhils and Rajputans were to close the circle behind Sumana’s army. It was a trap in which only the most dull-witted of commanders would have allowed themselves to be caught. When the first troops arrived at the gate, the circle of Ashoka’s soldiers closed in around the marching army like a wall. The more the divisions of the enemy drew together in the corner between Pataliputra, the Ganga and the army of the Emperor, the more Ashoka squeezed them in, encircling them.
Sumana had the war conches blown and imperiously demanded entry into the city. The Ganga gate was not opened. Suddenly, from behind the walls of the city, a fierce tumult was heard: Conches blared and deep tom-tom sounds of the drums were carried over Sumana’s camp. The Raja smiled. For a brief moment, the ear-splitting noises of war drowned out all the chaos outside the gate. Would now the bridge be lowered, would the heavy palisades be opened? The noise died down. On the high wall a captain of Ashoka’s army appeared.
‘Ask for permission to enter the town from the Maharajah who is encircling your army!’ he cried to the messenger of Sumana.
Ashoka’s emissary summoned Raja Sumana to surrender to the Maharajah.
‘Tell Prince Ashoka that the Crown Prince will not negotiate with a throne-thief.’
Ashoka was still hesitant. Sumana’s council of ministers consoled the Raja that the gods had refused to intervene yet since the battle had not really begun. At last, they advised Sumana to give the orders to start the attack. Sumana, with the courage brought on by false faith and disappointment that the anticipated assistance from the city had not come, neither understanding the delaying by his ministers, gave orders to the archers to attack the surrounding troops. Ashoka’s war chariots replied with a ferocious charge, bringing total confusion among Sumana’s soldiers. Only a vehement defence would give them a chance to escape death. Four squads led by Sumana’s brothers stormed at Ashoka’s troops with wild war-cries. The Mauryas were in the forefront, the soldiers following them. But they could not withstand Ashoka’s well-trained warriors. Like a moving palisade wall, his brigades stormed forward. Protected by iron plates and shields they faced little danger from the arrows shot by less experienced hands. Sumana saw that a victory was impossible without the anticipated supernatural help, the form of which was unknown to him, however. He gave orders for the war elephants to push back the assailants. This was not how his ministers’ council wanted it. They had asked the Raja to explicitly obey their commands. Sumana alarmed and overwhelmed them with his unexpected bravery. They tried to persuade him, to withdraw behind the lines of the fighters. The help of the gods would come as soon as Ashoka himself would come out and would start fighting. Sumana, however, gave order after order to attack, which was only mildly resisted by the enemy, which made him even more convinced of Ashoka’s powerlessness. At last the Maharajah, filled with indignation by the piffling attacks of his brother, sent a squad of his best archers, suppo
rted by war chariots against the foolhardy Raja. Sumana’s council of ministers was desperate and merely watched; nothing, however, could discourage the Raja.
‘I will fight Ashoka and shall kill him!’
Ashoka, however, did choose not to fight one who barely knew what a chakra was. The brothers of Sumana saw that a fierce attack was in the ofing. They had wanted to decoy Ashoka in the midst of a fray, but their task to protect Sumana had gotten much more difficult now. In the fierce fighting that followed, all the four brothers fell. Sumana’s council sent one body of troops after another to protect the Raja. Sumana imagined himself to be invulnerable, not realising that Ashoka still hesitated about taking his brother’s life. The rock-solid belief, that he alone was being helped by the gods, was further encouraged. That is why he risked rushing ahead more and more into the tempest of war.
‘Nothing can harm one who is protected by the gods, Natala.’
‘Sire, think of the Rani. We can still provide cover for your flight over the Ganga. You will ruin us all!’
‘Who flees when he knows that the gods fight beside him?’
He then ordered the cavalry under the protective cover of the elephants to attack Ashoka himself. Natala tried to prevent it but Sumana cried:
‘Ahead! Imprison the rebel!’
This impetus action forced the council—to their regret and far too early—to take the measure on which their expedition had been based. The twelve priests, clad in their holy Brahmin vestments, muttering prayers, were sent ahead. Ashoka would not dare to kill them. Everything would then turn against him!
Before the elephants were able to join the horsemen, Ashoka, with a division of heavily armed chariots, and supported by the best war elephants and foot-soldiers, had the twelve priests cut off from the rest of the army. He himself took up his chakra and, together with the horsemen, charged forward towards the foolish Raja. This was the moment the ministers had been waiting for. Even with the entire army defeated, the success of their plan could not be deflected. The unexpected bravery of the Raja was not part of their calculations but once again the first minister calmly followed the course of events so that he could take action at the right time. A huge part of their armed forces had already been sacrificed in an attempt to lure Ashoka forward. Now a small but brave group faced the hated Prince. The priest gave the sign that had been agreed upon previously. The twelve warriors of the gods imperturbably strode forward in the direction of the Maharajah, seemingly oblivious to the fierce fighting around them as if it was of no concern to them. If only they could get near enough to Ashoka! Only one of the twelve needed to reach the goal! Still praying, they approached. Suddenly, on a sign from Ashoka, a strong section of the cavalry along with fifty foot soldiers rushed towards the priests and overpowered them in no time. Resistance was impossible. They were bound firmly and taken behind the lines. Still, the Raja did not realise that his battle was lost. Completely trusting on the non-appearing heavenly fighters, he yelled out the most foolish orders to his warriors, while his cavalrymen were more and more tightly encircled in a desperate death-struggle.
Ashoka the Great Page 52