“Her name is Devi, isn’t it?” Asoka said. “You say she is an Arya. Then you hesitate to speak her name. There is something that you are not telling me, aren’t you, Mitra?”
“Err…” Pushyamitra paused. His face had turned into a frown. “The witch said she was born to Arya parents, but…”
“But what?”
“Why don’t you ask her yourself, My Lord?” Pushyamitra whispered.
“Come,” Asoka said, as the woman, Devi entered the hut. She did not bow to him, but just stood there, looking at him.
Now seated on the bed, Asoka could see her properly for the first time. There was no doubt that she was very attractive. He wondered what was wrong with her which Pushyamitra had been unable to say.
“So my men tell me you are a witch.”
Devi smiled. But it was not a blushing smile. It was a smile of mockery. “I have been used to men calling me that for a while now.”
Her voice was sweetly feminine, yet carried the weight of authority.
“Sit down, “Asoka said, patting the bed near him.
“Of course I will, My Lord.” She said. “It is my hut after all.”
She sat down, not near him on the bed, but on a chair in the other corner. She crossed her legs. That sort of belligerence made him want her more.
“So if you are not a witch,” he asked, “how did you cure me?”
“Because I am a Vaidya.” She said. “So was my mother, and her mother before her and so on. We trace our family back to the ancient sage Sushruta himself.”
So definitely a noble Arya family and not a witch either. What had been Pushyamitra afraid to say?
“My specialty lies in poisons and their antidotes.” She continued. “The poison you were infected with by that arrow is a local one. So an antidote was already ready with me. That is how I was able to save you.”
“It is indeed my good fortune that you exist, My Lady,” Asoka said in a courteous manner. Now that he was sure about her lineage, his manner had changed. “It was the will of Lord Shiva himself, that I be saved.”
Devi blushed slightly. Her cheeks reddened. “I wouldn’t say that.” “You wouldn’t?”
“No,” she said.
“Why?” Asoka asked, confused.
“Because, My Lord.” She said, “You see, I don’t believe in these Gods of yours.”
Then Asoka understood. Pushyamitra was a fool! Too conservative. There was nothing wrong or demeaning in treating a good Buddhist woman with respect as long as she was from a good Arya family. There was nothing wrong in courting such a woman too, if she were attractive.
“Good God.” He said. “Buddha is getting better and younger women each day. Soon there won’t be any left for good Hindu men like us.”
Devi blushed slightly again. “And then your young men too will have to turn to the Buddha.” She winked. “For there won’t be any Hindu women left.”
Asoka laughed. But he felt the muscles in his chest hurt as he laughed. She noticed it.
“Careful about your movements.” She said in mock instruction. “You are still badly hurt.”
“But I still have my life, Thanks to you.” Asoka said. “I thank you, My Lady for saving my life, and I shall see to it that you are amply rewarded for the same. But as you can see, I am on a mission. And to accomplish that, I must leave immediately. However my body aches due to the effect of this poison. If you could give me something that would make it go away, I would be far more grateful to you.”
“I can give you a special potion that will dull your pain,” Devi said, getting up, “but be wary that it will only heal your pain, not rectify what causes it.”
“Anything will work for me that will make me strong enough to mount my horse and lead my army.” Asoka said.
Devi walked to a wooden table in the room and started crushing some leaves in a stone vessel with a stone mallet. Asoka watched her back as she slowly mixed some liquids and powders in an earthen bowl. She shook the contents of the bowl well and wiped her hands to a cloth.
“You will sleep for long however on ingestion of this potion.” She warned, picking the bowl of the potion up and walking towards him. “But, on waking up, you will find that the pain inflicting you will be completely gone.”
“So I will have to sleep again!” Asoka sighed. “That’s too bad then. Because I would have loved to spend the day with you.”
This time, she did not blush at all. “You are in no condition to spend your day or night with me.” She said slyly as she handed over the bowl to him.
Asoka gulped the potion down in one go. It was very pungent to the throat, and smelt awful. Soon his eyelids became very heavy and he felt Devi help him lie down. Her touch on his bare skin felt fantastic. He had to have her.
Then his eyelids became heavy and he fell asleep.
He was in a dream again, in the palace barracks in Patliputra. But everything felt different. He felt much smaller. As if he was a child. The sword he was holding felt much too heavy.
Opposite him stood another child, somewhat smaller and shorter than him. He too was holding a sword.
“Prince Sushem and Prince Asoka.” A voice declared from somewhere. “Let your fight begin!”
The child opposite him held his ground, holding the sword in his hand tightly. Asoka smiled. This was going to be easy. The child was holding the sword too tightly. The grip should be loose, yet firm. Like his own.
The child was not moving. Asoka charged at him. He struck at the child’s sword and it flew out of the child’s hand. The child cried loudly and threw a tantrum.
Immediately, Asoka felt himself being dragged away, his sword being pulled out of his hands.
“How dare you beat Prince Sushem in a swordfight?” Bindusar’s mighty voice floated in the air.
“Because I can.” Asoka said.
“You fool!” Bindusar shouted. “Sushem is elder to you. One day, he will sit on my throne. It does not look well that he be defeated in the tournament. That too by a mere Vaishya! I believe you were specifically instructed by your teachers to lose.”
“Yes I was.” Asoka said.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I don’t like losing!” Asoka said loudly. “I would not throw away a fight which I could easily win.”
“Are you aware of what you’ve done?” Bindusar’s voice thundered, “You have made Sushem look like a bad swordsman. And you are a Vaishya. You’ll never hold a sword in your hands at all in the future.”
“If Sushem wants to look like a good swordsman, “Asoka said defiantly, “he better become one first.”
“Foolish child!” Bindusar’s voice was high-pitched. Asoka felt himself being slapped on the face, a big palm landing on his cheek. He could feel the warmth of the slap hit him right on the face.
“From tomorrow, you’ll practice in the city barracks, with common children.” Bindusar’s voice shouted. “Let’s see how much your ability lasts in there.”
Slap! Slap! More slaps.
“Stop!” Asoka was saying, but the slaps continued.
“Stop!” Asoka said, as he held the hand that was slapping him. He tried to open his eyes, but they were very heavy.
“Get up!” It was Devi’s voice. It was fearful.
With great effort, Asoka opened his eyes and saw her face which was filled with horror.
“An attacker.” She said.
Behind her, Asoka saw a hooded figure pull her by the hair, away from him. His eyes were still only half-open and he couldn’t see clearly. But he saw the hooded figure grab Devi by the neck.
“Don’t touch her.” Words emerged from Asoka’s mouth with great effort. The hooded figure pulled her away from him and pushed her with great force into the corner. Utensils cluttered as she fell with a moan.
“Bastard!” Asoka shouted. Before the attacker could turn, Asoka’s fist was high in the air. He punched at the attacker with all his might, but the attacker held his fist midair and twisted it. Sha
rp pain rose in his wound. The attacker pushed him back to his bed. The attacker’s hands grabbed his throat. Asoka held them, trying to loosen the attacker’s grip.
Suddenly the attacker removed his hands. But it was not due to him. It was Devi. She was holding the attacker from behind and scratching at him. The attacker tussled with her, pulling at her clothes. Asoka felt a fit of rage go to his head.
His next punch was swift and powerful. The attacker had had no time to react. It landed straight on the attacker’s spine, and the attacker froze for a moment.
“My sword!” Asoka somehow managed to get the words out to Devi, who understood and retreated from the attacker. She handed it over to him, the handle side towards him, and Asoka quickly took it. The attacker, who was now back to his senses, quickly drew his blade too.
The two blades hacked against each other with a metallic twang, but Asoka was still feeling dizzy and kept to parrying the attacker’s blows. The attacker was swift, and Asoka was having trouble blocking every blow. He looked to Devi for help.
Devi had picked up a metallic cauldron and threw herself with it against the attacker. The attacker turned to avoid collision and Asoka saw his chance.
He slashed the sword swiftly as the attacker screamed loudly. The sword had slashed the attacker in the right, where a huge wound had formed. Simultaneously, Devi hit the attacker with the cauldron, and he fell down to the ground.
Suddenly there was commotion on all sides. Asoka could hear soldiers. His soldiers!
The attacker got to his feet, and bolted out of the door in the dark.
Asoka looked at Devi, who was still standing with the cauldron in her hands, and panting heavily.
“You’re wonderful.” He somehow managed to say to her, before falling back on the bed, asleep.
Chanakya
Northwest frontier, 50 years ago
Raja Puru’s camp lay on the banks of the river Jhelum, very close to the river. It was a hustling and bustling place, with more than a thousand soldiers camped there. I could also see the elephants tied with chains in the stables.
In the vicinity, there were archers who were practicing their aim at wooden targets in the fields besides the camp. There were horses grazing on the grassy pastures. I heard the sound of a blacksmith hitting iron as I drew nearer to the main parts of the camp.
I was riding in from the east. Raja Puru’s men had erected a temporary fortification of wood along the camp. Plates of wood held up and supported by horizontal plates and ropes and strengthened by iron. At corners, there were raised watchtowers to keep a lookout. There were no fortifications along the river, but judging from the big round footprints all along the riverbank, I was sure that it was where the elephants stood.
I entered the main camp from the east gate. Soldiers led me to Raja Puru’s tent. It was quite big and held up with bamboo sticks. Curtains were raised to create a big entrance where guards stood with spears.
Raja Puru was inside, inspecting his blades, sitting on a vast bed made of feathers. He was a huge man, and was almost equal to the size of the bed he was sitting on. His eyes lit up on seeing me.
“My esteemed Ambassador!” Puru stood up to greet me. Standing up, he was said to be at least seven feet tall. His head almost touched the roof of the tent. I looked like a dwarf in front of him. Raja Puru hugged me tightly and I felt all my muscles being squeezed. Puru was indeed a big and strong man. “Raja Puru of the Paurava Rajya.” I bowed before him, once we had broken the hug. He smiled. All these Rajas loved being bowed to.
“I hope you bring good news,” He said when we were seated.
He was the Raja of Paurava, the largest kingdom in that region, and frankly, he was now my only hope against the Greeks. When I had advised him to raise his army and fight, Puru had readily agreed. And he had been convinced of the Greek danger since the very start. The good news he was asking about was about Raja Ambhi. He had asked me to convince him to join him in the battle. But I was unfortunately carrying no good news.
“Indeed, I bring good news, my Raja,” I said anyway, “Raja Ambhi refuses to fight alongside you against the Greeks. Now no one will share your glory of defeating Alexander.”
Raja Puru laughed. His laugh too was big and deep like him. “You have a very special way of converting bad news into good, Chanakya!”
“Raja Ambhi wants you to apologize to him.” I said, coming directly to the point. Raja Puru was an upfront man. He did not need a lengthy small talk before the main thing could be said. “Raja Ambhi says he will fight with you only if you apologize.”
Raja Puru laughed once again. This time, loudly. “I, apologize to him?” He said sarcastically.
“It won’t do any harm,” I said.
“Two things, Chanakya,” Puru said, “One, Ambhi is half my size. His army is smaller than mine. Also, I have never wronged him, so there’s nothing to apologize about.”
“He quoted that incident about the wife.” I reminded him.
“It was nothing!” Raja Puru said, “I had gone hunting in the forest. I must have crossed the borders unknowingly. I happened upon her and her mates bathing in a pool in the forest. She looked very pleasing to the eye. I had to have her.” He closed his eyes, no doubt reliving the memory. “I ordered my men to set up a camp in the forest. I took her hunting. In the night, we shared the tent. Never once did she tell me that she was married to Raja Ambhi. Nor could I have guessed that from her ornaments, because she wasn’t wearing anything at all when I saw her, bathing in that pool,” Raja Puru said with a grin, as he opened his eyes again.
“Ambhi has spread the news that you offered marriage to her.” I said.
“That he will surely do, to protect his pride.” Puru said. “The truth is that I offered her nothing. It was she who offered me her body. It was just a night well spent for me. I never saw her again. So you see, my friend, there is no need for me to apologize to your Ambhi.” He ended his speech with another laugh.
“But if still you would,” I said, “He may still fight from your side.”
“But why should I!” Raja Puru thundered.
These Rajas and their pride!
I sighed. “Together, you stand a good chance of defeating the Greeks, Raja.”
“Ambhi is a treacherous swine,” Raja Puru said. “He has made secret deals with the Greeks. He is selling away his own people. I shall rather be defeated than fight alongside him.”
What is it with pride? Why is it that those who deserve to be proud, are the least so, and those who have no reason to be proud, have it by four folds?
“Anyway!” Puru said, “It does not matter even if I lose, according to your plan.” He was talking about the plan which he and I had come up with for standing a chance against the Greeks.
“That plan is the last resort, My Raja,” I said with horror. “My plan is for the defeat, and a defeat can never replace a possible victory.”
“Look at the river outside,” Puru pointed. “This is the holy Jhelum. Lifeline of my kingdom. Originating from the mighty Himalayas itself. On the other side are Alexander and his army. I plan to stop them here. The river shall give me strength.”
“And if you apologize to Raja Ambhi,” I said, “You shall have the strength of his army, as well as that of the river.”
“You are a persistent man, Chanakya.” Raja Puru said. I could observe a small smile creep upon his lips.
“I am a teacher,” I said. “A teacher has to be persistent, My Raja. He must repeat the same thing over and over again until his students understand.”
Raja Puru laughed, “So blunt, and yet so sharp your words.” He said. “You keep trying even though you know you’re not going to win.”
“On the other hand, My Raja,” I said, “I consider it my defeat if you can’t be convinced.”
“You are the wise man here, amongst us.” Puru said. “Yet, I know something about warfare. My Jhelum is flowing with tremendous speed. You can see the froth in its water formed by its mere movem
ent. If Alexander tries to cross, his soldiers will have to face this wide torrent. And we would be immediately ready for them on this side. This is such a powerful position that Alexander won’t cross at all.”
“I know very little of warfare,” I said, “but I do know this. To think always in terms of defense is to be doomed. If you do apologize to Raja Ambhi, he will join you. His army is on the other side of Jhelum. He can come to your aid by attacking Alexander from that side. If at the same time, you were to cross, Alexander would be caught in the fray.”
“Stop, stop Chanakya.” Raja Puru waved. “I shall not apologize to him. This is my final decision, so stop pestering me.”
“It would demonstrate your greatness and forgiveness if you do apologize to him,” I tried to sound convincing.
“I shall rather be known as a stubborn tree than a flexible shrub, Chanakya,” Raja Puru said.
“But when a mighty torrent flows,” I said, “mighty trees fall, while flexible shrubs hold their ground.”
“Then I shall fall, as a mighty tree,” Puru said loudly.
“As you say, My Raja,” I said, looking down.
If only these Rajas had more tact than Pride!
“Don’t look so glum, my friend,” Puru said, “I promise you that I will keep Alexander on that side of the river, until I am standing alive on this side.”
“This is Alexander we are talking about,” I said, looking up. “Do you really think he could stay in one place for so long a time?”
“He is not.” Puru said, “He has been taking me up and down the river countless times. The minute his army breaks camp and starts moving there,” He said, pointing towards the other side of the river, “my army starts shadowing him here. This has been going on for quite a while now.”
I widened my eyes to look across the river. Even in the dense mist of the morning, I could make out a faint outline of the enemy camp on the other side.
“May you be victorious.” I blessed Raja Puru, getting to my feet.
“And if I lose, you have already told me what to do.” He smiled.
The Prince of Patliputra Page 7