‘No, Sire.’
‘You wanted to learn to love me, Asandhimitra, and sadness rules your soul?’ Ashoka asked, slightly mocking.
‘Can I learn to love someone who only believes in violence, honoured Maharajah?’
‘It is my only support!’
‘It is your only weakness, Sir, with your army of hundred thousand warriors. You killed priests and many citizens of this town. You put sullen anxiety in the hearts of others. Simha and his guards, prodded by criminals like Shakuni and Sunasepha with the ever-ready lash of their religion, you want them killed by arrows in the most hurtful way … in front of their brothers-in-arms. Is revenge so sweet? Murderers, poisoned by the false reasoning of fanatical priests, you want to be tortured until death frees them. Does it please you to see people suffer in so gruesome a manner? Can revenge ever serve to bring happiness to your people? Sunasepha followed Chandaka, Panthaka, and Lambaka into the Ganga. Will the sanctity of the enfolding waves over their bodies not lead to renewed hate instead of the happiness that you thought you could bring, more than Sumana? Where will my Lord hide himself from so much hatred and fear and revenge which will only increase hatred?’
‘He who caresses the tiger will be devoured for a meal, dear figure with the delicate-blue scarf.’
‘But he who hurts the angry elephant will be hated by the animal for the rest of his life, Shiva of death.’
‘Will he let himself be trampled by the animal?’
‘He has, by his manas and his help, the power to bind the animal, thence to lead it by friendly treatment to better insight and softness.’
Ashoka lowered his head onto his hands, bent over, for a long time. Asandhimitra dropped softly by his seat and sat immobile, her face turned towards the floor, hands pressed together at his feet. No feeling of grief was aroused by this brave woman who dared to disapprove the deeds done by him, the mighty one. Was he really on a wrong path? Then he would return!
‘How do I secure unity in my empire, Asandhimitra, when these fanatical priests thwart my measures everywhere?’
‘How do you secure unity in your empire when you, by your deeds, kindle hatred sky-high, Sire!’ Her voice trembled.
Passionately he jumped up and began pacing the room.
‘I do not see another way!’ he burst out at last.
‘How then did you bring the rebellious west to the Maharajah again and taught the corrupt merchants of Ujjain and Bharuchkacha their duties?’
‘There the people themselves desired peace and quiet!’
‘Do you not believe that all people wish for peace and quiet?’
‘All, except the influential and all-despising sacrificial priests!’
‘But they, too, have to be guided towards the Maharajah and are not to be alienated. You have the ability to do so, Sire, because you are mighty and great.’
Ashoka stood close to her, looking for a long time at the woman bowed in front of him. She did not look up at him although she knew how she could use her beauty.
‘In Taxila I spoke with many wise men, Asandhimitra. Each praised his faith as the true one. Should not there be one belief that is right, but there are many, divided into an infinite number of sects …’
‘Choose then the best, Sir.’
‘The best, you say, Asandhimitra, the best? Were I to choose one of the hundred as the best then I have ninety-nine opposing me, bringing their hatred into my empire.’
‘Then choose all, Sire, the sara, the essence of all.’
Ashoka looked at her, moved: She had stirred in him an almost forgotten, at least, cast-off thought. ‘What the sacrificial priests do is not in the spirit of the Vedas, and the struggle between the sects is because of the feeling by all of being incapable to bring true happiness. You do have the power, Sire.’
‘But the dark power of the others, my Asandhimitra!’
‘The secret of your power is righteousness, noble Maharajah, not one of the others can withstand.’
‘That righteousness I can only support by just decrees.’
‘Your verdicts are a tradition of your grandfather and Kautilya, his minister. Do you punish out of hatred? Out of revenge?’
‘To deter.’
‘So, you want a few to suffer in order to deter many. Is that righteous? Why do those few have to carry the burden of punishment while others who sinned as much as they or have the same intentions, go free? Why do you not try to unite them all with goodness, leniency, providence?’
‘The delicate-blue scarf!’
‘The … delicate-blue scarf!’
‘Do you know how I curse sometimes your delicate-blue scarf, Asandhimitra, because it prevents me from appraising the hatred of all those … in a proper way.’
‘That must be in your moments of weakness, Sire, when you doubt your ever so great power and the sacredness of the Atman, which is unfolding in all, the blissful feeling of Atman … Tat Tvam Asi! You do thirst for the happiness of all creatures! Why then should you want to increase hatred, my Lord!’
Again, Ashoka walked heatedly up and down the chamber. How deep she could gauge him!
‘Well, beautiful Asandhimitra. I shall grant mercy to Simha and the horse-guards who betrayed their master and to the twenty-four murderers who wished my death even sacrificing their own lives. I will send them to the deserted mines at the Gandaki. Let them learn over there to defer to the new Maharajah.’
Assandhimitra deferentially placed her hands together, bowed to her Lord, kissing the hem of his robe.
‘The delicate-blue scarf, Asandhimitra,’ he laughed, raised her beautiful figure, and saw her tears. ‘Asandhimitra, why do you cry?’
‘Sire, because for the first time I have met Sayana’s friend, Piyadasi.’
Ashoka left the chamber without uttering another word.
16
REGULATE
ith indomitable energy the Maharajah threw himself into the task of ruling the endless empire the way he had learned to during his work in the western states. It was as if a sudden current pulsated through life and movement in the capital, as though everything moved faster and the people have risen out of turbulent times, their faces reflecting renewed energy. A feeling of increased security returned to daily life. The influence of the Maharajah spread from the capital to Magadha and Madhyadesa, and from there, to other provinces.
In Sravana1 the rains set in, as predicted by the priests with the precision of experience and astronomical knowledge, and welcomed with sacrifices, prayers, and oblation fees. It was then that Sagka returned. He had left the camp having found that all the guards had been killed. The tracks of the fugitives led to the south. At the border of Sodra, he came within half-a-day’s travel of them. The rainy season which had just set in made further pursuit useless.
‘So, where did they go?’
‘To the Kalingas2, Sire.’
Maskarin sent by Ashoka to the Kalingas returned some months later and reported that all the fugitives had entered the service of the Raja of Kalinga. Prince Sarata was training the rapidly growing army and Shakuni was leading the religious sacrificial ceremonies to make the gods look kindly on Kalinga that was becoming a danger for the Maharajah.
‘Girika, what did you learn on your mission?’
‘After the battle, Aradi was to be brought to Vaishali by the warriors of Sumana but along the way she felt so weak that they put her up in a Buddhist monastery, the Khemavana. The Abbot of the monastery felt compassion for the Rani, rendered her due honour and offered her his services. She soon recovered and stayed in the monastery. Now she has bore a son, Nigrodha.’
‘And Sumana’s council?’
‘They wanted to compel her to leave the monastery of the mendicants. Aradi refused, as she did not wish to sacrifice her little son to the ivory throne. Nirgrodha will likely be brought up in the Buddhist manner.’
Kalinga, incited by Prince Sarata, Shakuni and the escaped priests … An ambitious king who was persuaded by them to enlarge his terr
itory at the expense of the despised Maharajah. That meant one thing: preparations for war to repulse the enemy. Strike down. Hatred. And the Anthapura? How many of them had wanted Sumana on the throne, one who was expected to bring pleasure, enjoyment, luxury, wealth. He, Ashoka, wanted to work, obviate the injustice of the laws, set at naught the agonising injustice done towards the accursed ones in his countries. Tolerance of all peoples, the religions, the hundreds of sects, peace and quiet in his empire, prosperity for all. But all who were sacrificial priests were resisting. Everywhere there were deadly enemies. Was he safe in his own palace? Satyavat could not always keep watch! Who knew that he would sleep in this room this night? He would rather get up, go to another room, so that no one could be certain where he would sleep. So, … the five chakras … ‘How will you achieve unity in your empire, when you increase hatred by your deeds?’ … Certainly, Asandhimitra! How? Compliance they view as weakness, rapprochement as an opportunity to slake their hatred. Only to power do they give way! Was that the way? And the sara of all religions that he wished to trace! How much struggle did he have to face yet, before tolerance would reign in his empire? Before the people would replace the paltry ceremonies which were now governing life, by a good and pure way of life? Before man would conquer himself? Sanctions, sanctions! Was that the way? Against his thousands of secret enemies, weakness was certainly not befitting. Those who did not want it his way would have to give way. The power was his! And that would rule in battle as well as when all would acknowledge that his view had been right.
The Maharajah took an early bath. While the servants were taking care of his clothing and other personal needs, a Mahamatra from the far eastern part of his empire was announced. Anti went on with Ashoka’s dressing.
‘The Raja from Anga refuses to pay his lawful tribute, O, Maharajah, because no one has been anointed after the death of Bindusara. Neither does he want to come to the capital to pay his obeisance to your Gracious Majesty. I can only conclude that he has been instigated by the escaped army commanders and the priests of Pataliputra.’
‘You will appear later in the Parishad3.’
‘Sire, the Anta-mahamatra4 of Suhma has arrived this morning. He asks Your Gracious Majesty whether he could be received now or at the palace audience later on.’
‘How much time do you and the girls need yet, Anti?’
‘Ten minutes, Sire.’
‘Let him in.’
‘So, Kaptika, what news do you bring from the borders of Kalinga?’
‘Sire, the Kalingans pursue their hunt across the borders of Sodra. I have informed them that they were hunting on your territory; they said the Maharajah could not oppose it. It was the territory that the Mauryas had once taken but, in all fairness, belonged to Kalinga.’
‘And you accepted that?’
‘I have requested them to immediately vacate your territory and ordered them to leave the hunting booty behind. Sutima, the chief, asked whether my Maharajah had already been anointed. The others laughed, swiftly took away the animals, and left. The same day I left for Pataliputra.’
‘You will appear in the parishad later, Kaptika, as a witness.’
‘Sire, the high Purusha from Jamunapura wishes to notify you.’ Ashoka now was dressed but yet did receive the palace functionary.
‘The Rajuka of Bharata did not accede to my request to keep the irrigation work in good condition, O, Maharajah. The harvest withers away. The population grows poor. My plans for the enlargement of the irrigation work have not been executed.’
‘I had ordered him some months ago to support your plans.’
‘He promised, again and again, to call for the Vaishyas to perform their obligatory labour for the Maharajah. The Rajuka is only interested in feasting, gambling, drinking-bouts, animal fights, and sacrificial ceremonies. If I remind him of the order of the Maharajah, he asks: ‘Which Maharajah?’ My plans for the canals and dams are still lying there.’
‘We shall end the governance of this Rajuka who is going to be ruinous for Bharata.’
Before the meeting of the parishad, the Maharajah first listened to the complaints and requests of the many subjects in the durbar hall. Asandhimitra had also made her way to the audience hall.
‘I am happy to see you are interested, Asandhimitra. Take the seat next to me. As you see, there are many who need the support of the Maharajah.’
Satyavat checked personally if the visitors were carrying weapons. In spite of the five chakras which he always had with him, Ashoka approved of this measure of Satyavat.
Each case was registered by the lipikaras5 and handed over to the Mahamatryas for further investigation, together with the decisions of the Maharajah.
Some Vaishyas from Mauda, south of the Son, complained that the governor took a quarter portion of their harvest and made them work four days a week on his estates.
‘I only permit one-sixth part of the harvest and one day of work!’
‘He who complains is severely punished, O, Maharajah.’
‘Write an order to the department of revenue collection that a high Purusha, together with fifteen lower Purushas, will leave for Mauda to thoroughly investigate the actions of the governor. I wish to have a report from them in a month’s time.’
With surprising speed the Maharajah worked through all the complaints, dictated one order after another, stamped them with the regal seal, and had them dispatched by the lipikaras.
Two young Vaishyas requested mercy for their father.
‘For what is he imprisoned?’
‘Father has insulted the Brahmin, Narada, O, Maharajah, in a dispute over the fees for the offering ceremony. Father would pay with five cows. When the sacrifice was performed, Narada wanted ten. A neighbour had suggested that father was prosperous enough to give away ten cows. Father refused and called Narada a greedy hoarder. The court decreed that he had to provide the ten cows and serve a sentence of a year’s for slandering a Brahmin. We are poor and none can farm the land properly. All of us are threatened by famine. If we do not pay the land duties, we will be driven away. Give back to us our father, holy Maharajah.’
‘He who insults another has to bear being punished for it.’
‘But we did not do any harm, noble Maharajah, and we are the ones who have to bear the burden of punishment and suffering the most. Father spoke in a fit of rage, Sire, because all his cattle had been taken away from him.’
Ashoka observed the bright young man. ‘And what if I refuse to grant mercy?’
‘Then today, I shall bring my last offering to Shiva, Sire, as the god of righteousness.’
‘Give orders for the case to be investigated and command that if what the son tells us is true, the Vaishya be granted mercy for the sake of the family. At the same time, bring him five young cows so he may resume his work on the farm.’
The boys thanked the Maharajah profusely.
‘Tell your father that labour itself is the highest sacrifice to Shiva.’
‘Sire, Satyagupta and I receive water from the same canal. Often, at night he opens the sluice gates and allows the water to flow, water to which he is not entitled. The Pradesika advised me to request you to take away Satyagupta’s field which bears little fruit because it is being tilled badly. If it were to be joined with my land then the tax collectors would get more levies.’
‘Do you receive the same amount of water, Paila?’
‘No, Sire, I receive more.’
‘Why?’
‘The Pradesika allowed me more, Sire.’
‘Is that why your land is more fertile, Paila?’
‘That is possible, Sire, the Pradesika decides how much water each field requires.’
‘And Satyagupta’s field dries away?’
‘Because the water supply is cut off. I would be able to make the field of Your gracious Maharajah fruitful again.’
‘Would not Satyagupta himself be able to make it bloom again if he were to get more water? Tell me the truth honestly, Paila, swe
ar that you will tell the truth.’
‘Yes, Sire.’
‘Has Satygupta not complained to the Pradesika? And what did he have to say?’
At that moment, Satyagupta came forward and dropped down with stretched-out arms, in front of the Maharajah, who asked: ‘Who are you?’
‘Satyagupta, Sire.’
‘Speak, Saytagupta.’
‘Mighty Maharajah, my field dries out because the Pradesika of Visapura has barred me from the water supply. Paila tolerates the visits of the Pradesika to his beautiful young wife. Therefore, he was allowed more water, to my detriment. I opened the sluice gates at night to get my rightful share. I do pay my land taxes and my water rights as much as he does. Since it was discovered, my water supply has been cut off, gracious Maharajah,’ the Vaishya sobbed. ‘Soon, I will not be able to pay my land fees anymore and will be cast out from the land.’
‘You should have complained and not acted on your own authority, Satyagupta.’
‘My complaints to the Pradesika did not help, O, Maharajah.’
‘Why did you not come earlier to me?’
‘Everyone fears the Pradesika, Sire. Now he wants to steal away my farm lands, if you approve.’
‘And you, Paila … Does Satygupta tell the truth?’
‘Yes, Sire.’
‘Return to Visapura; you will hear of my decision.’
‘Lipikara, issue an order that the Pradesika of Vasipura is dismissed. Tomorrow a Purusha will leave to conduct the investigation. Satyagupta’s water supply will be restored immediately.’
‘Sire, in Virabhum, the law is that for the same offence, a Shudra is given a punishment that is four times as heavy as for a Brahmin. The court of Brahma has given me a fine, ten times as much as for a Brahmin for the same offence. The Brahmin had to pay fifty, and I, five hundred karshapanas.’
‘Perform the oath. So, what crime did you commit?’ The Shudra’s face flushed and he wavered in answering.
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