‘What crime!’
‘Adultery with a woman of my own varna, Sire.’
‘And do you wish that I should lessen your punishment or increase that of the Brahmin?’
‘Lessen mine, gracious Maharajah.’
‘The punishment for such deeds I will never lessen! Return to Virabhum and do not sin again; then the punishment will not reach you.’
When all were heard the Maharajah turned to Asandhimitra.
‘May I know, what the High Rani thinks about all these interrogations?’
‘Have you investigated all the cases that come up for your judgement day after day, Sire? People come from far and wide and in such large numbers!’
‘Do you think, Asandhimitra, that I wish to be like the mighty rain cloud that floats by and does not give rain? Or, like the potter, who is turning his wheel but did not take care if he had clay? My orders are strictly executed by experienced and trustworthy civil servants, under the control of my secret informants. If my people pay their taxes and I do not perform the duties of the king, it would be better that Sumana was seated here!’
‘Sire, I did not come to make comments.’
‘To listen to the complaints! To see, if the Maharajah is also applying his power, to burden himself with the hatred of the priests?’
‘No, Sire, to learn to love … the righteous Maharajah …’
‘Then come along with me now to the parishad, Asandhimitra.’
In the parishad, Ashoka had the three Mahamatras repeat their statements of that morning.
‘In response to the information brought to you by the Mahamatra of Anga, I will send an army, three times the strength of that of the Raja and have the obstinate king Kansa taken prisoner and sent to Pataliputra.’
‘Do you wish to deprive the Raja of his lands, Sire?’ Khallataka asked.
‘Not if he pays his due respects, and as punishment pays double his levies and complies with his duties.’
‘None of the ministers could have anything against that, O Maharajah.’
‘Already three times in my brief period of reign, I have been informed about the violation of borders by the people of Kalinga. I will send a delegation to the Raja with the demand that he acknowledges his mistake by paying me a hundred measures of gold for hunting on my territory, and to extradite Sutima and Shakuni. I would like to hear your opinion on this.’
‘Does this mean war if he refuses, Sire?’
‘No, but certainly a more tense relationship.’
‘Kalinga is arming itself heavily, Sire,’ remarked Radhagupta, minister of war affairs.
‘I know, high minister. Now they themselves have it in their hands still to prevent their own destruction.’
‘Do you fear war, O, Maharajah?’
‘No, but I do not wish to be taken by surprise. When my brothers seek war I cannot prevent that, but I can, with the Raja of Kalinga. If he is not willing to do so then they may expect me to become an Asura-vyaya6, and Kalinga will become a part of my empire.’
All nodded their approval.
‘I wish to appoint Khallataka’s son, Asvin, as the governor of Bharata.’
‘Bharata is an important province, Sire, and Asvin is very young. Would you not prefer to appoint Arada’s son, Sakata? He has to spend his years in idleness. Arada turned away from you because his daughter became Sumana’s wife. Does this not look like a good opportunity to reconcile with the family of Arada?’
‘Is Sakata capable of succeeding that lazy merrymaker of Bharata? None of you know? I am inclined to reconcile with Arada but not at the cost of Bharata. Arada’s son was a friend of Sumana and up till now lived for his pleasures. In Prakriti’s house he sacrifices much to Kama and the wine jug. The people of Bharata demand, however, a just, serious, diligent and even more energetic rajuka. Khallataka’s son possesses these qualities in spite of his young age. He will be the one to replace the sluggard and squanderer of Bharata, and bring the country to bloom again. I need a new Pradesika in Visapura. Do you think Sakata is capable of that governance? The situation over there is good, the people are prosperous. Which of you can assure me that Sakata will be the right one there? Which of you knows his virtues?’
No one could answer Ashoka’s questions.
‘Then I will nevertheless appoint Sakata, because I heard— coincidentally—that he never got into debt at Prakriti’s, was strongly opposed to Aradi’s marriage to Sumana, that Jocarno and Sahula kept their murderous plans anxiously away from him, that he begged his father to go along with me to the West, and refused to join Sumana to Taxila. I will investigate his capability and diligence. His character seems to me, though, a guarantee for a just government.’ The parishad kept silent.
‘Sire,’ Aruna interposed, ‘we hear that the Rajas, rajukas, purushas still hide themselves behind the pretext that the new Maharajah has not been anointed yet. Would it not be wise for the sake of peace in the country to let yourself be anointed?’
‘As long as I do not find a priest from whom I can expect, in all fairness, that he will promote my interests, I do not wish to make an offering in this way.’
‘The tanunaptram, O, Maharajah.’
‘My labour is the sacrifice to Varuna, my justice to Brihaspati, the right application of the laws the offering to Manu, my life to Shiva! Do I then still need the offerings of the priests? A banyan does not grow into a holy tree in one Vasanta.
The meeting ended.
‘Come, my Rani, all these government affairs must be tiresome. Join me in the park.’ Ashoka beckoned the boatman in the great pond. Raja and Rani seated themselves on the high seat at the rear of the boat.
‘Sire, you always touch me with your wise decisions.’
‘The delicate-blue scarf, my Asandhimitra,’ mocked the Maharajah.
Asandhimitra laughed shyly. ‘Do you see my father’s dream and explanation as foolish?’
‘Foolish? No one in India has seen better what I was missing! Your father, Asandhimitra, must have known with his clear manas what I wanted and, at the same time, what immense obstacles I would meet on my path. People expected from Chandragupta compassion for suffering mankind. His strictness became so rigid, so ruthless, that he feared himself, abdicating from his reign to continue his life as a Jain monk. I feel like him. There are people who wish to exclude the deprived ones from happiness so that they are doomed from birth to death. I want to wipe them out, and I will, Asandhimitra. But it is as if I have to keep on killing more, to protect the weak.’
‘Do you want a war with the people of Kalinga, Sire?’
‘No, but they might convince themselves I am weak. They will feel the weight of my chakra, Asandhimitra, if they risk a war with me.’
‘Not the Raja and his Council … but the people of Kalinga, Sire!’
‘It is not that the people of Kalinga have nothing to do with it. For that their army is too large. Moreover, are incited people innocent? In many parts of my empire, the insurgents act under pressure from the sacrificial priests and other interested parties. If I do not punish them, then the work of those who incite others will become even easier. Then I am called weak and afraid. You see, all is not that simple.’
‘I have always thought that your army is mighty and invincible.’
‘But not invulnerable. And neither am I.’
17
RANI KURAVAKI
everal months later, Sagka returned with his army from Anga. King Kansa was brought in as a prisoner, ready to meet all the wishes of the Maharajah. The king was brought to the army camp and, quietly, Sagka revealed to him Ashoka’s tremendous power. Kansa grew silent. Along with his daughter, whom he had taken along to appease the Maharajah, he was escorted to one of the farthest buildings in the camp.
‘When will I see the Maharajah?’
‘When it pleases the Maharajah, O, King.’
‘Am I still the King of Anga?’
‘If it pleases the Maharajah, O, King.’
‘Ask the Maharajah
when I can pay my tribute.’
Ashoka let Kansa wait for a week, after which he and his daughter were taken in a war chariot to the palace in the capital. Thousands of people had gathered along the road. Kansa had refused to pay obeisance, was conquered, imprisoned, and forced to go to the palace, unarmed, without being shown the respect that was due to him. That aroused the mockery of the inhabitants.
‘He is taking his sweetheart along!’
‘He thinks he is being received by Prince Sumana!’
‘This beautiful Princess may have Kama in her retinue.’
‘Shiva took away Kama’s body, now let Kama take care of his bow and arrows! If Shiva takes them away too, it could be that love will disappear altogether from India!’
‘And that Raja better be careful of his land and his daughter for she is to be the bait.’
‘Oh, poor Kansa. To placate the Maharajah! Kansa takes no chances. They say the Maharajah always wears a cloth of iron around his heart.’
‘They say he is Shiva; well, in that case he will not need it.’
‘People say so many things but everyone praises his righteousness. Woe to him who harms the laws of the country. I do not understand though why he still tolerates that host of priests in the Brahmin-court, when they are fomenting discontent everywhere. It seems they were the ones who instigated Kansa and in Kalinga, the King, too.’
‘Shiva laughs at their words. They had better take care! Chandaka has shown them the road that leads to the Ganga! What do Kansa or Kalinga think they can do against the army of the Maharajah! Prince Ashoka was a capable army commander, Raja Ashoka a brave warrior, Maharajah Ashoka a mighty ruler.’
Kansa had to wait another hour in the palace before Ashoka received him. The conquered king could hardly contain his anger.
‘Is your Maharajah so occupied that he makes me wait for more than seven days?’
Satyavat informed his Lord about the Raja’s comment. Kansa was led in, surrounded by heavily armed palace guards. The pomp and circumstance of the huge imperial court overwhelmed the Raja. He fell to his knees and bowed low and deep for the Maharajah, stretching forward his arms.
‘Is Raja Kansa so occupied that he makes the Maharajah wait for months for a token of respect?’
Kansa rose, astonished. ‘I would not have come if you had not forced me, mighty Maharajah.’
‘Raja Kansa of Anga has to pay tribute to the Maharajah of Madhyadesa.’
‘I did not know who was Maharajah here.’
‘Aha! Raja of Anga, please take note, nothing but the truth between us!’
‘I was told that you were not anointed, had taken the throne unrightfully, that Sumana and later Sumana’s son would be the successor. Why then had I to come to pay tributes to you!’
‘Now we understand each other. And you were happy to believe it was so and had thought that I would let an unwilling vassal revel in disobedience! You should know the Mauryas better, Raja Kansa! What if I were to wipe you out of Anga? And put one of my trusted men on your throne, you, rebellious Raja!’
Kansa again bowed to the floor as a sign of humility.
‘Sire, from now on I will loyally pay my tributes.’
‘And my costly armed campaign?’
‘Sire, I will pay you threefold.’
‘You have become a very willing Raja. But I can annexe your little kingdom to mine and appoint a rajuka whose loyalty I need never doubt. Not a single promise binds me any longer to you or to your court.’
‘Sire, I took along with me my most beautiful daughter. Take her as a guarantee of my loyalty.’ To his daughter, he said: ‘Karuvaki, help me to placate the Maharajah.’
Karuvaki stepped forward and looked at the Maharajah with her laughing, fiery eyes. She had enjoyed more freedom than was usually permitted to daughters of a king, because of her need to move freely; her courage and her cheerful, carefree attitude had amused Kansa. He had infinite admiration for her beauty, energy, and lust for life. She would even be able to charm the Maharajah! That was why he had taken her along! She was his shield that would ward off Ashoka’s wildness and bloodlust. He watched closely to see what impression she was making on the mighty and wild Maharajah. She was used to seeing young men, sons of high kings, at her feet.
Ashoka looked at the king’s daughter, apparently unmoved. Yet, he quickly considered what could be done. To turn the offer down would be an insult for which he would never be forgiven and thus would be forced to destroy the lineage of the Raja of Anga. To accept would mean to bind the Raja to him and against the Kalingas! Nothing of his inner struggle showed. Karuvaki fell to her knees. When the Maharajah still did not speak, her haughty smile faded, Ashoka’s cold glance causing her discomfort. She folded her hands and bowed to the floor beside her father, disappointed. They waited for what the Mighty Emperor would decide.
‘Bring Karuvaki to the anthapura. You, Kansa, return to Anga and prove yourself an obedient tributary king of the Maharajah. Shiva will destroy you if I were to once again dispatch an army to Anga!’
‘Gracious Maharajah … nothing shall break my loyalty to you. I will be your ally, whenever you wish.’
The Maharajah could barely tolerate that several rulers of tributary kingdoms did not consider it necessary to proclaim their dependence and loyalty to him, that many Vaishyas had to be coerced to pay their land levies, and that some traders considered any tax to be too high. Who was behind this, the Brahmin-court? What Brahmin-court! Was a crime committed by thousands still a crime? And were those to be frightened by the punishment of a few? And who was the guilty one, the individual or the multitude? The proper punishment! To let a few suffer, to inhibit many – that is injustice, Asandhimitra. But then, how? Benevolence, lenience, the providence. Until it is too late. No! Away with the delicate-blue scarf!
Satyavat came up to his Lord.
‘I have imprisoned one of the palace guards, O, Maharajah. She had brought some very poisonous whip-snakes into your bedroom. I have distrusted her as she is the sweetheart of the priest Sadha from the Brahmin-court. For some time I have been watching her. I saw that she received this vase from his hands and then brought it to your fourth bedchamber and emptied it onto your bed. I found one whip-snake yet in the vase. The others were killed by the slaves.’
‘Bring her here, Satyavat, along with five female guards; bring Sadha also to the palace.’ Ashoka could barely control his temper.
‘What did you wish to do with those snakes, Sarami?’
‘Nothing, O, Maharajah.’
‘Nothing, do you say! Why then have you brought them into my sleeping chamber!’
‘Because my beloved wanted me to.’
‘For what purpose did he wish it so?’
‘I do not know. You will have to ask him, gracious Maharajah.’
‘Does your oath oblige you to take care of the safety of the Maharajah?’
‘Yes, Sire.’
‘You endangered my life!’
‘No Sire, it was my beloved who did so.’
‘So, I will have your beloved killed.’
‘Sire, he did not bring the snakes.’
‘So, you deserve death. Who is your beloved?’
‘Sire, I am not allowed to say it.’
‘Satyavat, is this outcast Sadha the beloved of Sarami?’
‘Yes, Sire.’
‘I am no outcast, I am a Brahmin, Sire.’
‘Brahmin. You, a Brahmin! Is one who attempts to murder a reigning Maharajah, a Brahmin? You belong to the lowest of the caste of killers, outcasts, worse than the Chandalas. Your body will not be entrusted to the Ganga but destroyed at the judicial execution place!’
Two chakras infallibly reached their target.
Depressed, Ashoka walked over to the park in the enchanting magic of spring, where the blossoms of the karnikara and white jasmine smiled at each other and the flowers of the kimsuka swayed like mist in a morning’s breeze. He stood still, breathing deeply the fragrances spread by the animukt
a and priyangu1. Kansa’s daughter Karuvaki … She looks up at a flowering Ashoka tree with one luxuriant orange bouquet. She nestles her sprightly features into the cool, soft heads of the blossoms, picks a twig, holds it in front of her eyes, pondering. Ashoka sees the tears that moisten her eyelashes and quickly walks towards her.
‘Was the beautiful Karuvaki touched by the splendour of the Ashoka tree?’
‘Ashoka … Sashoka, free of sorrow … full of sorrow, O, Maharajah.’
‘How sorrowful is the beautiful daughter of Anga! Is the palace of the Mauryas not enough for the high Princess? Does she not like the park, the luxuriant flowers, and the lotus pond in the fresh colours of Vasanta? Is she not happy at evening time when Surya’s light disappears and Chandra’s white disc spreads his magic over this legend so she can enjoy the coolness of the lovely park in one of the extensions of the palace? Look at this wonder! Does the orange beauty that unfolds itself not charm Kansa’s daughter when she touches it with her gaze, such calm in the world’s hustle and bustle?’
‘Calm, you say, O, Maharajah? In Anga you find calm in the heart, and in nature we look for excitement: rivers, woods, hunting. Here, the hundreds of towers of the black palisades look down upon you in quietude, but the heart beats in disquiet and sees no way out. In Anga, I ruled Father’s palace with my laughter; here I shrink under the serious gazes of the anthapura. Is one always mourning here for some beloved who has passed away, mighty Maharajah? In Anga Surya rejoices, over here, he mocks!’
‘Tomorrow we will have a hunt, my Karuvaki, to restore the heart’s calm in the youngest Rani.’
‘Hunt? My gods! I do not know if I will be able to sleep this night … out of joy! I feel like a palm tree in Jyeshtha to whom one whispers that the first rain clouds appear, O, Maharajah. It is as though the park looks so much friendlier all of a sudden and the towers of the palisades crumble, mighty Lord!’
Ashoka immediately summoned Sagka and Satyavat.
‘Sagka, tomorrow the imperial hunt will take place. Take care of the beaters, elephants, horses and weapons. Check the platform in the jungle. The sealing off of the route of the hunt has to be watched carefully by two rows of foot-soldiers. Satyavat decides who is to be allowed to join from the anthapura and which of the palace-guards are joining. Ask Tishia to come.’
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