The Prince of Patliputra
Page 1
THE PRINCE OF PATLIPUTRA
Book 1 of the Asoka trilogy
SHREYAS
ISBN 978-93-52015-50-4
MRP - 350
Copyright © Shreyas, 2015
First published in India 2015 by Frog Books
An imprint of Leadstart Publishing Pvt Ltd
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Disclaimer: The Views expressed in this book are those of the Author and do not pertain to be held by the Publisher.
Editor: Anushree
Cover: Nishant
Layouts: Logiciels Info Solutions Pvt. Ltd.
Typeset in Palatino Linotype
Printed at Nikeda Arts Printers
To my parents who brought me up and turned me into what I am.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Shreyas is a 21 year old guy currently pursuing his B.Tech in Electrical Eng. from VNIT Nagpur. His love for history since his childhood prompted him to write his take on the story of Asoka who was one of the towering figures in the history of India.
Apart from writing, his hobbies are songwriting, composing music, painting watercolors and sketching with pencils. He loves hiking in the hill forts of Maharashtra, is fond of blues & southern rock music, plays the guitar.
He is currently working on a startup to provide quality services to the end users of Transformer and Switchgear products in the country.
He is also presently working on the second part of this trilogy which shall be called The Scourge from Taxila.
He can be reached on theasokatrilogy@gmail.com
Website: www.authorshreyas.wordpress.com.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
It is said that “Those who know your true story are the ones who help you write it”. It is true indeed!
I am indebted to a lot of people who helped me walk through the whole process of writing and publishing of my first book.
I am thankful to my parents, Rajeev Bhave and Swati Bhave who inspired me to keep on writing, who read my amateurish stories when I was a young kid and who supported me through thick and thin
I am thankful to many of my beta readers who helped me improve the way I wrote the story. I am thankful to my grandfather, M.R. Bhave, Mrs Aundhati Joshi and my friends Salil, Abhilasha, Ishan, Shivraj and Namrata for the same. Abha, my sister, and her husband Abhishek deserve a special mention for one single phone call that changed the way I looked at the story.
I am thankful to my publisher, Leadstart Publishing, for having faith in my work.
I am thankful to Mr Anand Neelkantan, the bestselling author of ‘Asura’ and ‘Ajaya’ for taking out the time to speak to and inspire a young author like me.
I am thankful to my Book Editor, Anushree Nande, for her patience and help in making the work stronger.
I am thankful to my Project manager from LP, Mr Uzair Thakur for ensuring a smooth flow throughout the publication process.
I am thankful to my friend Shweta Hingolikar for helping me gather ides about the book cover.
I am thankful to my friend Shubhra for helping me with the illustrations.
I am thankful to the design team of LP who came up with this brilliant book cover.
And I am thankful to you, the reader who has decided to give this new author a chance. I hope that I shall be able to enchant you with this story and transport you to the vast and beautiful world that was Ancient India.
According to the Sanskrit text ‘Mudrarakshasa’, 4 centuries before Christ, Chandragupta Maurya rose from the ashes of a devastated Northwest after the Greek Invasion and became the Samrat of the whole of Bharathvarsha after overthrowing the Nanda Empire and uniting the Rajyas of Aryas under his rule. It is said, that he was helped by a Brahmin teacher from Taxila called Chanakya.
50 years later, according to the Buddhist text ‘Asokabadana’, his grandson Asoka became the Samrat after overpowering ninety nine of his own brothers and established his dominion over the whole of the Indian subcontinent. It is said that he was helped by a minister from Patliputra called Radhagupta.
Introduction to characters according to order of appearance.
(Characters 50 years ago are in italics)
1. Maharaja Sushem: Governor of Taxila, son of Bindusar and grandson of Chandragupta
2. Hariharan: Minister of Sushem and a member of the Ancient Brahminical Order.
3. Tissa/Vittasoka: Sushem’s seven year old little brother and Bindusar’s youngest son.
4. Maharani Divija: Sushem’s principle wife.
5. Radhagupta: Steward of Bindusar at Patliputra
6. Kautilya/Chankya: The legendary personality.
7. Asoka: Son of Bindusar and current leader of the expedition sent against rebellious province of Avanti.
8. Devi: Asoka’s love interest.
9. Pushyamitra: Asoka’s Captain.
10. Chandragupta: Chankya’s student.
11. Dileepa: Chankya’s student and Chandragupta’s friend.
12. Raja Ambhi: Raja of Taxila 50 years before.
13. Raja Puru: Raja of Paurava 50 years before.
14. Alexander: The legendary personality
15. Craterus: Alexander’s General.
16. Coenus: Alexander’s general.
17. Kanakdatta: Buddhist weapon’s trader
18. Hardeo: Buddhist Guildmaster of the merchant’s guild of Vidisha
19. Shiva: Son of Avarak and military leader of the rebels of Avanti
20. Dhanananda: Maharaja of Magadha 50 years before.
21. Rakshasa: Prime Minister of Dhanananda 50 years before
22. Avarak: Leader of the Ancient Brahminical Order 50 years before.
23. General Sunga: General of Patliputra who led the army of Patliputra to the southern wars.
24. Maharishi Dandayan: A sage in Northwest India 50 years before.
25. Raja Ajatshatru: Legendary founder of Patliputra and the Ancient Brahminical Order.
PROLOGUE
The night was black and chilly, but the two horsemen rode out speedily, not minding the darkness and the cold. The dusty pass through the forest was lonely and frightful, yet they rode on without fear. Occasionally a wolf would howl from somewhere far away. The chirping of the crickets could be heard all along the way.
Yet the riders rode on. Their black cloaks fluttered behind them in the air as their horses galloped further. The roar of a tiger tore through the air, suddenly, out of nowhere, but the riders kept riding at full speed.
Finally they stopped when they reached a fork in the road. Their horses whimpered uneasily at just standing there in the dark.
‘Seems like we are lost, brother!” One of the riders spoke, observing the two paths in front of them.
“Not at all, brother.” The other rider pointed towards the sky, “Maste
r told us to ride keeping the North Star in front of us, and we are doing that exactly.”
The first rider gazed upwards to look where the other one was pointing. He smirked when he saw the dark, starry sky, “All those stars look the same to me.” He complained.
“But they are not.” The other one said, looking down.
“The stars change, brother.” The first one whispered, still looking up.
“The North star doesn’t!” The other rider pointed towards the left and they heeled their horses to break into a trot. The new path was narrower, with shrubs rubbing into their legs.
“Remember,” the other rider said, “We are looking for a banyan tree.”
The massive tree soon came upon them from out of nowhere. It was huge, with its aerial roots dangling in the air beside its enormous trunk. It looked horrific in the pale light of the moon against the dark starry sky.
“What now?” The first rider asked, bringing his horse to a stop by the side of the tree.
“Now, we just wait.” The other rider said, coming to a stop beside him.
“Wait by a banyan tree?” The first rider gasped, “Have you heard the stories about these things?”
“What stories?” The other one laughed, “Grow up, brother.”
“Rakshasas live on these things.” The first one whispered, “Bramharakshasas!”
“Then you must be afraid, mustn’t you?” A sharp voice spoke from behind them. The two riders turned. There was a man standing by the massive tree. He was dressed from head to toe in a black cloak.
“Master!” The two riders bowed before him.
The cloaked master blessed both of them by raising his palms. “Don’t care to get off your horses.” He said, as the two riders rose, “I shall make this quick.”
“We are all ears, Master.” The first rider said.
“Then listen.” The Master said, walking nearer them. His voice turned into a whisper. “This is a work for the Ancient Bramhinical Order.” He said, respectfully touching his own forehead.
“For the Order!” The two riders imitated him.
“You two must not fail!” The Master warned.
“We won’t, Master.”
“Then listen.” The Master laughed as he spoke, “You will have to brutally kill your target.” His voice turned into a sharp whisper, “And your target is Asoka,” he spoke, “The Prince of Patliputra.”
50 YEARS EARLIER
Two riders were riding in a similar forest on a similar night and came upon a similar tree. They waited by the similar tree as a similar cloaked man approached them.
“This is a work for the Ancient Bramhinical Order.” The cloaked man said.
“For the Order!” The two riders swore.
“Then listen.” The cloaked man whispered. “You will have to brutally kill your target.” The cloaked man laughed as he continued, “And your target is Chandragupta, The Raja of Taxila!”
TISSA
Taxila, 272 BC
The cold winds that blew over the dry swathes of the northwest that morning heralded the coming of winter. They blew fiercely over the rocky mountains, causing the meager trees to rustle. It was the same winds that tore in through the curtains of his palanquin and caused Tissa to lose the sweet comfort of his sleep. He opened his eyes lazily, rubbing them with both of his small fists, and yawned.
The seven year old stretched his arms and let out a big groan and another yawn. The cold winds disturbed the curtains again, hitting him in the face. Tissa shivered as the sudden sense of being lost hit him. Where was he? It was the same sense of unknowingness that often followed an unexpected nap at an unexpected time.
Tissa separated the curtains and looked outside. Immediately he could see two big horses towering over the palanquin, and riding by its side.
“Quite a place you’ve chosen for the meeting, Minister!” Tissa immediately recognized the gruff voice of the man on the black horse. It was his brother’s.
“I thank you for your appreciation, Maharaja.” The man on the brown horse, Minister Hariharan, bowed back to the man on the black horse. In return, Tissa could see his brother laugh.
The sun was almost up in the sky now, and yet the air felt so cold. Tissa now longed for his bed back at the palace, and his warm blankets made from the fur of the mountain bears. Not more than a few hours ago, Tissa had been happy when his brother, Sushem, had woken him up in the darkness of the dawn and asked him to accompany him for a little trip. Tissa had said yes almost instantly, because that meant he would miss his boring archery lessons.
A few hours later though, as goosebumps formed on his skin due to the cold, Tissa had begun to regret his decision.
Maharaja Sushem laughed loudly again, and Tissa looked out of the palanquin at him. There was an odd sense of mockery in his brother’s laugh, Tissa realized as he pulled away the curtains more to have a better look. That was the way Sushem laughed when he was just about to get very angry.
“Hariharan, you fool!” Sushem was saying “You mistake me. I do not appreciate you. I mock you instead!”
“You do not like my choice of place, Maharaja?” Hariharan was no doubt worried now, Tissa was sure. His brother’s anger was very volatile.
“Of course not!” Tissa could feel the pitch of his brother’s voice rise slowly. “Why have I made you my Prime Minister, Hariharan, when you lack the sense of even a seven year old?”
Tissa flinched unknowingly at the mention of his age, and both of them looked at him, stopping their conversation. Sushem looked intrigued, “So you are awake, little brother.” He said. “I had started to think that you would be asleep for the whole time and then the purpose of bringing you here with me would be completely lost.”
Tissa pulled the whole curtain out the way now that they had seen him. “I’m sorry, brother.” He said meekly, but Sushem was smiling.
“Don’t worry.” He said, as he extended his hand. “Want to ride on a real horse, now that you’re awake, little brother?”
Tissa just nodded. Minister Hariharan bent a little from his horse, picked him up with both of his hands and placed him behind his brother on the black horse. The horse whimpered when Tissa’s hands grabbed its fur to maintain his precarious balance
“Don’t hold the horse, hold me,” Sushem told him from the front. Tissa held him and felt safe and comfortable, and then he began to look around.
There were so many other horses around them with men on top of them. Men in armour and helmets, with spears and swords. They were his brother’s personal bodyguards. Tissa slowly counted them one by one. He had learnt to count up to thirty in his classes with the royal Guru. He stopped when he reached thirty. There were indeed more soldiers than he could count.
His brother, Sushem, was the Maharaja of Taxila, and would take the bodyguards with him wherever he went. However what Tissa was wondering was why he had been brought along that morning, and where were they going?
“Can you tell me what exactly do you find wrong about my choice of place, Maharaja?” Hariharan was asking as he rode his horse besides them.
Sushem looked at him. “Do I sense resentment in your voice, Minister, or plain arrogance?”
“Just a desire to understand my mistake, Maharaja,” Hariharan promptly replied.
Sushem flicked the reins of his horse carelessly. “Look at all the towering cliffs up there.” He pointed to the top of the hill they were riding to. The flat top of the hill was surrounded by more cliffs. “A perfect ambush spot!” Sushem said.
“Frankly, Maharaja, we are just going out to meet a weapons dealer.” Hariharan laughed. “I don’t think he is going to ambush his customers!”
“Don’t laugh.” Tissa could feel Sushem’s belly tighten, and his voice raised, “This is not just any weapons dealer. This is Kanakdatta the Buddhist! Haven’t you heard the rumors about him?”
Hariharan’s horse neighed at the sudden outburst. He pulled on the reins to control it. “I have heard the rumors, Maharaja.”
“Then you know that he sold weapons to Avarak, the one-eyed,” Sushem said, still angry. Tissa’s stomach formed a knot at the mention of the one-eyed man. Back at the palace, his nanny would always tell him horror stories of Rakshasas, and almost all of them would be evil and one-eyed. He tugged at his brother’s jacket, but Sushem didn’t notice. “I thought you would approach the man who allegedly sold weapons to our sworn enemy with at least some caution!”
“I am sorry, Maharaja!” Hariharan bowed. “It is true people say that he sold weapons to Avarak and his band of rebels, but maybe that’s just a rumor.”
“Maybe, Minister, or maybe not,” Sushem said thoughtfully as Tissa pulled on his jacket more firmly. This time, Sushem noticed it. “Something bothering you, little brother?” He asked, glancing back from his seat.
“Can’t you talk about something else?” Tissa asked meekly. This talk about the one-eyed Avarak and his band of rebels from the south was frightening him.
Sushem just shrugged as he looked ahead again. “You need to be braver, brother. If you ask me, I consider men with both eyes working more dangerous than some old man with only one eye.”
“Old Nan says he can send shadows to kill people.” Tissa remembered the stories his caretaker had told him in the palace.
“I have no doubt that your old Nan has a vibrant imagination,” Sushem said without moving, “but if truth be told, Avarak is just a man, brother. Like us. Quite old too. And with only one eye.”
Tissa felt himself shiver again at the mention of the one eye and this time, it wasn’t the cold. “Please, stop!”
“Be brave, brother.” Sushem said. “Soon you’ll grow up to be a Raja on your own. You must not be afraid of things which one should not be afraid of.”
“But old Nan said that there are ninety nine of my brothers. Will any Rajya be left for me, when there are so many who are older?”
Sushem laughed, and this time, it was a good laugh. The one he used when he was happy. “Oh, dear brother,” he said, “our father Samrat Bindusar is the second Samrat Chakravartin of the whole of the Bharathvarsha. His realm spreads from here in Taxila to the great city of Patliputra in the east and to the mountainous city of Suvarnagiri in the south. Believe me, Tissa, there are ample Rajyas to distribute, even if you had a thousand brothers.”