“While you look to uniting with Raja Puru to fight these Greeks,” Ambhi continued, “I look to joining hands with them to teach Puru a lesson.”
I sighed, silently. “My Raja!” I said. “Raja Puru has a reason to join hands with us in defense of his lands. While Alexander doesn’t need us at all. What is an actual necessity for Raja Puru, is a mere convenience for Alexander.”
“Why really are you here today, Chanakya?” Raja Ambhi asked. “Has Puru sent you to act as his Ambassador, after your secret meeting with him? Or are you here as my Advisor, for which I actually pay you. Who are you loyal to, Chanakya?”
‘My Loyalty is to Bharathvarsha, the realm of the Aryas.’ I wanted to say, but Raja Ambhi would have taken that as a slight.
“My loyalty is to you, My Raja.” I told him what he wanted to hear. “I know I should have told you about the meeting with Raja Puru,” I even looked down, “but I was afraid that you would get angry.”
“I had to find out about it through my spies,” Raja Ambhi said loudly. “My Advisor, meeting with my enemy, without my knowledge! Your humble responses aren’t going to win me over this time, Chanakya! Frankly, tell me, why are you here? First of all, you meet with my staunch enemy. Then you come to me with these stories of Greek spies in Taxila and try to pitch me against the Greek general and fight on the same side as Puru. Why should I believe these stories of yours?”
“Because they are true, My Raja.” I said. “I had the same talk with Raja Puru, and he has agreed to bury the differences between you two, if you would do the same.”
“I do the same?” Raja Ambhi thundered. His eyes had become red. He was angry now. “Why should I forgive Puru?” He spit on the floor. “I am not afraid of him. And he is the one who has wronged me, not the other way round. I have a very good deal with this Greek general. I shall not fight against him, and in return, he will let me be independent. Furthermore, he will help me destroy Puru.”
“And in this same deal, My Raja,” I reminded him, “was the clause that no Greek or Persian soldiers would enter the borders of Taxila. And yet, here they are!”
“I like you, Chanakya,” Raja Ambhi said. “But I don’t trust you. These stories of Greek soldiers here, I don’t believe them one single bit. I think you have made them up. I can’t think of one single reason why the Greek general would break a treaty that is so wonderful to him.”
That’s because you call him Greek general. And you underestimate him. You underestimate his abilities. You underestimate his ambitions. His courage. And you do that because you are not knowledgeable about what he has done. While I have heard great and horrible stories about him. The Great city of Tyre destroyed, and its inhabitants massacred. The invincible Persian Empire destroyed like a speck of dust! You and your kingdom is nothing compared to his, Raja Ambhi! Your army is like a small speck of dust, your wealth, a small fraction of what he has plundered. You are a dwarf compared to him.
“What are you thinking about?” Raja Ambhi asked.
“How I am to convince you,” I said, “that I speak the truth.
“You can’t convince me of that at all,” Raja Ambhi said. “And I warn you, Arya Chanakya. You are nothing. You are just a Brahmin, a teacher. You teach at the academy. I listen to your advice sometimes, because sometimes, it is good. But don’t you try to get yourself involved in politics of the state. Leave that to us Kshatriyas.”
I took a deep breath. I couldn’t control myself now. I had to say it. Then if it would cause the Raja to flare up with more anger, then so be it! “When Kshatriyas have become incapable,” I said loudly, “it is the duty of us Brahmins to step up and make things right.”
“What did you say?” Raja Ambhi got up. His face was red with anger, his jaw clenched, “Incapable? What did you say?”
“I am sorry, My Raja.” I apologized immediately, but both of us knew that I hadn’t meant it.
“I advise you, Chanakya,” Raja Ambhi thundered. “Go to your academy, and stay there. You met with my enemy once, and I have forgiven you, for you are a good man. But should you do that again, believe me, you shall be a dead man.”
I sighed. It was typical of Raja Ambhi. Very angry for very small reasons. I bowed and left the Raja’s presence. I did not look back even once. There was nothing to look back to. This plan of convincing Raja Ambhi had failed. Now I had to look forward and think of something else.
As I walked down the steps of the palace, I looked up at the figure of Raja Ambhi who still lay on the armchair on the balcony. He was foolish as well as disgusting. Furthermore, he had insulted me.
Chanakya does not forgive those who insult him. Punishment shall fall upon them.
“One!” I counted.
“If Raja Ambhi has restricted you from going, then it would be unwise of you to do so,” Chandragupta said, as he stood with his arms folded. I looked up at him. We were standing in my chamber at the academy. Chandragupta was standing at the door, while I was packing up my things in a cotton bundle at my desk.
He was muscular and young with long hair. It was hard to believe that he was just sixteen. He looked so much stronger for his age. So royal!
“There are too many Rajas here, my dear boy,” I said to him while still placing things in the bundle. “It has become confusing whom to obey and whom to defy.”
“You have already taught us the answer to that,” Chandragupta said. “We must always obey the better Raja.”
“And what, if there are no good Rajas, leave alone better ones?” I asked him, interested in what his reply would be.
“Then they must be replaced,” Chandragupta said.
I smiled. There had always been a layer of hot headedness under his calm face. “You speak with such vigor, because you are a Kshatriya.” I told him. “That wouldn’t be so easy to say for let’s say your friend, Dileepa who is a Vaishya, or I who am a Brahmin.”
“Yet we all are Aryas,” Chandragupta said. “It is not wise to discriminate so.”
“Believe me, Chandragupta, it is!” I exclaimed. “There was a time when I too used to think like you. But as I grew older and wiser, I have realized that a Vaishya is a Vaishya and should be a Vaishya and a Kshatriya should be a Kshatriya!”
“Raja Ambhi will surely find out that you have gone to Raja Puru!” Chandragupta said, changing the topic. He would always do that when we could come upon a topic on which we did not agree.
“He surely will.” I sighed. “All I am hoping for is that he does not find out about my departure before I am gone.”
“Surely he will be very angry, when he knows,” Chandragupta said, “He may even become very violent.”
“Dear Chandragupta,” I said, “Someone, a lot bigger than you, me or Raja Ambhi is about to come. We do not have the time or luxury to be worried about small things now.”
“But if Alexander really is as you have described him,” Chandragupta said, “Shouldn’t we welcome him with open arms, rather than fight him?”
“No!” I said staunchly. I did not expect this from him. I had taught him better.
“But you have told us of what a fine general he is,” Chandragupta blabbered on. “Also, you tell how he is kind to people of merit. You have told us how he met with all the Brahmins of Gandhar to discuss philosophy with them, after he had captured their Rajya. You’ve told how he personally leads each cavalry charge in battle. He looks like a leader I would love to follow.”
“You speak like a Greek,” I said, taking my bundle from the table and putting it upon the floor. “But you are not one. You are an Arya. A Bhartiya. You may love to follow Alexander with love, but Alexander will not care a bit for you. He will have no respect for you, who follows him, leaving his own folk behind. He will see you as being inferior to his own Greek self, for you belong to a defeated race.”
“I see,” Chandragupta agreed.
“Moreover, the Greeks bring with them a whole new set of cultural rules and regulations. They will see all of the Aryas as one single defea
ted entity. Our caste systems, our religion shall be destroyed. We will be required to shun our Gods, and worship their Greek counterparts. We shall have to live as their slaves, for there never is any justice for a defeated people, just as there is no respect for the man who abandons his own creed.”
“So we must fight them!” He exclaimed.
“That’s what we must do!” He finally had understood. “But our lands are divided. So are our people. Rajas change after every thousand miles. Only Kshatriyas are allowed to fight, so our armies are small. Our Kshatriyas are conservative. They take pride in fighting in the old ways, while I have heard of a large hybrid army, consisting of Greeks, Egyptians, and Persians under Alexander’s command. All of them owe allegiance directly to him. Each man is loyal to him and has tremendous faith in the ability of his leader in delivering victory to them against any odds, which has been reinforced by the numerous battles which have been fought and won by them. Theirs is a veteran army, with the spirit of a young adventurer, while ours are old men, experienced in fighting only amongst ourselves.”
“But Alexander’s army must be very weary,” Chandragupta pointed out, “If they have been marching so far away from their homes.”
“Yes, they are weary.” I said. “But not weary enough to go back. An adventurer creates a home wherever he goes. Alexander’s army is longing for a big grandiose victory in a battle. It has been a while since they decisively beat the Persians. Since then kings and rulers have been surrendering at Alexander’s feet unconditionally.” I paused to drink some water. “If I read this Greek man correctly,” I said, “he is tired of being surrendered at. He wants a fight, and he shall admire the man who will give it to him. If we can’t win his battle, then we must at least win his respect.”
“So this is your plan!” Chandragupta exclaimed. “To find victory even in defeat.”
“This is the short term plan.” I said. “The long term plan is definitely to drive the Greeks out of our lands.”
“That may be a long and hard fight,” Chandragupta said.
“Maybe, maybe not,” I said, picking up my bundle, “I see an advantage in this foreign invasion that is to come upon us. This is going to change our social structure, and we must use it as an opportunity to make it as it should be, from what it already is.”
“You see an opportunity in everything, Guru,” Chandragupta said.
“There is opportunity in every adversity, my dear lad.” I told him. “We must only be trained enough to find it. Now tell me, what are you going to do once I am gone?”
“Raja Ambhi knows we are your special students,” Chandragupta smiled. “He will try to interrogate us about your whereabouts. Dileepa and I will make sure that nobody in the academy knows where you have gone. And if the Raja is to torture us for information, both of us will not open our mouths even a little bit.”
“You two are good boys, you and Dileepa,” I said, getting up from my seat. “Where is he, by the way?”
“Dileepa is readying your horse,” Chandragupta said.
“Always the man of few words, and a lot of action, Dileepa.” I sighed.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Chandragupta asked.
“No, my boy.” I said, “If you are doing good work, then people around you must know it. Or else, they shall undervalue you. It is better to talk a lot, and be a leader, than work a lot and be a slave.”
“I understand,” Chandragupta said.
He had so much more to understand! He had so much potential! If only I could get more time to work on him!
“Now it is time for me to leave,” I said, pointing to the door.
He bent down to touch my feet. I was his Guru after all. It was a regular tradition. I placed my hand upon his head to bless him.
“Live for a hundred years and let your name live on for a thousand more.” I quoted a Sanskrit subhashita.
As I left the room without looking back, I had entirely no idea how true my words of blessings were going to be!
ASOKA
Vidisha, 272 BC
When Asoka opened his eyes, soft music was playing in the room. He was lying on a bed and he looked around for the source of the sound. It was neither coming from his left nor from his right. It was coming from near his feet.
He propped up on his elbows to look down, but a chilling stab of pain shot across his neck and he fell back on the bed. Immediately, the music also stopped.
“Are you awake, My Lord?” A female voice asked.
“Yes, I am.” Asoka said. Where was he? Who was this woman? It did not make any sense at all.
The woman’s face crept near him. It was the same face he had kept seeing in his mind.
“Who are you?” he muttered.
“My name is Devi, My Lord.” She placed her palm on his forehead. “The fever is almost gone now.”
“I had fever?” Asoka mumbled, as he tried to get up again, but she held him down.
“Do not try to get up.” She said. “Your wounds have not yet healed completely.”
The wound! Asoka remembered. He raised his right hand to look at it. It felt very heavy as he raised it up. But he couldn’t see any wound on it at all. It was bandaged completely with white cloth.
“You lost quite a lot of blood.” She said, touching the bandage slightly. “It’s no surprise that you were unconscious for quite a lot of time.”
Asoka let his hand fall back to the bed. “For how long?”
“Long.” She said. “Now I must call your Captain.” Devi started to get up. “He had instructed me to call him soon after you had awoken.”
“Don’t go!” Asoka muttered as he tried to hold her hand, but she had already got up from the bed and walked towards the door. She stopped amidst her steps to look back at him.
Asoka raised his bandaged arm again. “Was there a ring on my finger?” He asked weakly.
In response, Devi’s hands went up to her neck and pulled out a string from inside her saree. Tied to the end of the string was the golden circle of the ring. She held it up at him as Asoka took in the sight of the black stone. “I took it off to bandage your arm. Kept it here for safeguarding.”
Asoka tried to say something, but he let his bandaged arm fall back down again.
“I should go,” Devi said as she left the hut.
When she was gone, Asoka looked around. There were walls all around him. He was in some kind of a hut. The roof above him was thatched with dried grass and lined with hay. The room carried strange smells of medicines and chemicals.
“My Lord!” Pushyamitra had entered the room and was promptly bowing to him.
“Where am I, Mitra?” Asoka asked, trying to get up again. The same stab of pain hit him in the chest, but this time he bore it with clenched teeth and sat up.
“The arrows you were hit with, My Lord.” Pushyamitra said. “Their tips were poisoned.”
Asoka remembered the sense of dizziness and unconsciousness that had followed after the attack. “That explains the unconsciousness.”
“Unconsciousness!” Pushyamitra said. “You almost died, My Lord.”
“What of the other assassin?” Asoka asked. “Did you catch him?”
“No, My Lord,” Pushyamitra said with his head bowed, “he disappeared in the dark.”
Asoka frowned. “Now we’ll never know who sent them. Tell me, Mitra, how many days have I been here unconscious? And where in Shiva’s name is here?”
“You were very badly poisoned, My Lord.” Pushyamitra said. “We were at our wit’s end and had no idea what to do! Then the locals told us about this woman. Devi was her name, they said. They told us she lived in a hut in the forest. They told us she was a witch, and she could cure everything from snake bites to diseases. She was the only one who could save you.”
Asoka felt a sense of horror. “You brought me to a witch!” He exclaimed. “Now don’t tell me she is a non-Arya.”
“She is indeed an Arya, My Lord.” Pushyamitra said. “We confirmed that before we
let her touch you. She is the one who saved you after that.”
Asoka felt a sense of relief. “Good.” He said. “I’ll thank her then.”
“You were unconscious for almost a week, My Lord.” Pushyamitra said. “We had almost lost hope. But she was the one who insisted that you would be alright. She said she had removed the poison and now all that was remaining was for your wounds to heal and your body to make up for the blood it had lost.”
“What of our mission?” Asoka asked. “Has anything changed? Have any problems cropped up due to this delay?”
“Nothing much, My Lord.” Pushyamitra said. “We have just got delayed. We were supposed to be in Ujjain by now. However we are still here in Vidisha.”
“So the rebels still hold Ujjain.” Asoka said.
“And the surrounding area. Their numbers are growing. The name of Avarak, the one-eyed, still commands a lot of respect in that region.” Pushyamitra said.
“Yes, it’s evident from the fact that they are still prepared to shed blood for their old Raja,” Asoka said, thoughtfully.
“The assassins, My Lord.” Pushyamitra said, “Do you think that Avarak sent them?”
“I don’t know, Mitra,” Asoka said, falling back upon the bed. He was feeling tired. “It would make sense for him to attack me. But I don’t see any advantage that this attack has cooked up for him.”
“Indeed, My Lord.” Pushyamitra said. “But you know that Avarak the one-eyed has a reputation for brooding deadly assassins. You know what they say about him, that he sends shadows to kill his enemies.”
“The attackers who attacked me weren’t exactly shadows!” Asoka laughed. “The more we are delayed, the more number of men Avarak the one-eyed will add to his band of rebels.”
“Then we must hasten,” Asoka said.
“We were just waiting for you to get up, My Lord,” Pushyamitra said.
Asoka tried to move his arms, but more pain hit his body. “What good am I for, after waking up?” he sighed, “I can’t even move my arms. How will I lead an army?”
“Maybe the witch can help,” Pushyamitra said.
The Prince of Patliputra Page 6