The Prince of Patliputra

by Shreyas Bhave

“The one who is not afraid of defeat is the one who does not fight with all his might to avoid it.” I quoted a Sanskrit subhashita, but the Raja had not understood what I was trying to say. I sighed and turned to leave without looking back.

  “Chandragupta!” I could hear Raja Ambhi’s thundering voice. That was the way he spoke when he was angry. I couldn’t see him due to the blindfold on my face, but I was sure that his eyes would be all red and his mouth bent into a frown, with anger. The atmosphere in his throne room felt intense; all I could hear were the slow whispers of his courtiers.

  “Are you the same Chandragupta who claimed to see Greek soldiers in Taxila?” Raja Ambhi asked.

  “Very closely, My Raja,” Chandragupta’s voice was without any shade of fear. From the direction of his voice, I calculated that he must be standing somewhere near to the throne, probably at the bottom of the steps that led up to it.

  “And you are?” Raja Ambhi asked again.

  “Dileepa, My Raja. I am the one who saw them from a distance.” Another voice answered. So Dileepa was here too, and was standing beside Chandragupta.

  “And the two of you,” Ambhi asked, “are you aware of the present location of your Guru, the foolish teacher, Chanakya?” The hair on my body rose up when I realized that Ambhi was now talking about me.

  “No we’re not.” I heard both of them say almost simultaneously.

  “Of course you are not.” Ambhi laughed loudly. “He is currently in a place you wouldn’t imagine in your wildest dreams.”

  I could hear no reply from the both of them, but knowing them so well, I was sure that they must not have lowered their gazes one bit and must have kept looking directly at Raja Ambhi. It must have unnerved Ambhi a bit because his voice immediately dropped a pitch.

  “Aren’t you going to ask where?” He asked.

  “Aren’t you going to tell?” Chandragupta asked loudly, which I was sure must have been accompanied by his mocking grin. Ambhi was going to be very angry now!

  I could hear him scramble to his feet from his seat upon the throne. “You are just like your Guru,” he yelled. “Arrogant, out of place, and…” he pointed, “a traitor!”

  He must have been pointing to me, because guards held me immediately, and made me walk forward. I struggled to move with all the iron chains that were binding me, but I walked nevertheless. When I stopped, I could hear the courtiers gasp. Though nothing could be heard at all from my students.

  “This man!” Ambhi said, pointing at me, “He first lied to me about enemy spies here. Almost made me turn against the Greeks. Then secretly he went to meet with my staunch enemy, Raja Puru, even when I had warned him not to do so.” I could feel a quick kick to my knees as I struggled to keep my foothold.

  “Arya Chanakya, teacher at the academy of Taxila, is an enemy of the state, and a liar,” Ambhi said.

  “He did not lie.” This voice was Chandragupta’s, and it was so loud, that I could hear all the courtiers gasp. Chandragupta had dared to interrupt the Raja mid-sentence.

  “Then that makes you a liar too,” Raja Ambhi thundered, “and a traitor. I condemn all of you to death.”

  “No, you do not.” Chandragupta said.

  Before anyone could blink, I could hear swords being unsheathed. I could hear quick movements. I wondered in horror as to what was happening, before Chandragupta’s voice and Ambhi’s frantic scream stopped my heart from almost leaping out of my body.

  “If anyone moves,” Chandragupta warned the soldiers who must have grabbed their spears, “your Raja’s head shall roll on the floor.”

  “Don’t move, drop your spears.” Ambhi was quick to tell them. His voice, which moments ago was as loud and angry as a lion, was now as low and meek as a mouse.

  “Untie Arya Chanakya,” Chandragupta ordered. As the men began to untie me, Chandragupta’s footsteps climbed up the stairs to the throne and turned.

  “This man who you call a Raja makes deals with the enemies,” He said to the court. “He betrays his own people for a few favors from foreign attackers. It is he who is a traitor and not us. Yet if you follow him, then you too are all traitors.”

  I could hear Ambhi shout. My blindfold fluttered down to the floor as the scene unfurled in front of my eyes. Both Dileepa and Chandragupta were standing beside the throne. Dileepa had his sword to Ambhi’s throat. No one had the permission to touch the Raja, and yet here were these two, manhandling him. The court watched with bated breath. So did I, who was no longer blindfolded. I walked up to those two.

  “I am taking the Raja,” Chandragupta declared, as he watched me out of the corner of his eye. “And if anyone dares to follow us, I will behead him.” He gestured me to follow him as he and Dileepa came down the stairs to the throne, pushing Raja Ambhi roughly.

  The three of us walked out calmly, Dileepa pushing Ambhi, and I leading with Chandragupta at the back. Once we were out of the throne room, Chandragupta locked the doors behind us.

  “Quick, Guru!” he said to me, “we don’t have much time.”

  We hastened to the courtyard, where a buggy with two horses was waiting for us. I climbed in first, then Dileepa.

  I turned to see Chandragupta keep the blade of his sword on Raja Ambhi’s neck.

  “I advise you,” he said, “take your army and go help Raja Puru. Or else, I promise you, that you and your kingdom will be doomed forever.”

  Then he climbed into the buggy too, and the buggy left, leaving Raja Ambhi standing there in a cloud of dust.

  “You two took a great risk in trying to rescue me,” I told them, as the buggy raced along the city.

  “Not so much of a risk,” Chandragupta said. “We had bribed the stablemen to prepare the buggy, and the guards to open the city gates.” He pointed as the buggy sped out of the open city gates upon a dusty trail.

  “Also,” he said, “our friends were keeping watch on the palace. The only risk was whether Dileepa would be able to take Raja Ambhi hostage before the guards reacted. And I had faith in Dileepa. He is a good fighter. Even better than me.”

  Dileepa, who was sitting by the buggy man’s side, just bowed. I smiled back at him.

  “Ambhi’s spies caught me on my way back from Raja Puru’s camp,” I said.

  “The guards in the prison told us about your capture, once we bribed them.” Chandragupta said. “We were sure that Ambhi would call us to the palace to mock your capture. We had been planning these antics meticulously.”

  I smiled, “You are so young, yet so capable, the both of you.” That was my way of saying thank you.

  “It is you who has made us into what we are, Guru,” Chandragupta said.

  “No doubt Ambhi will storm the academy now,” I said. “Looking for us.”

  “All the students in the academy are already out,” Chandragupta said, “Ambhi will find no one there. All of them are in a hideout which we found in the forest. In fact, that is where we are headed now.”

  I took a deep breath. I was time for me to take a decision. “That is where you two are headed,” I said. “Not me.”

  “What do you mean?” Chandragupta’s face had turned horrid.

  “My path lays elsewhere, son,” I sighed. “You shall drop me off at the crossroads. I shall take one horse. We shall abandon the buggy.” There wasn’t much of a choice after all. I had to choose between abandoning all hope and trying to turn things around even now. The right choice was obvious.

  “Are you going to Raja Puru?” Chandragupta asked.

  He was so naïve.

  “No, my dear Chandragupta,” I said, “Raja Puru is going to lose.”

  “Then where are you going?”

  “Towards the east.” I looked away from him.

  “East?” He asked in disbelief.

  “Yes!” I said. “The defeat of Raja Puru shall trigger a domino effect in this region. Every other Raja shall surrender to Alexander after his victory. To bring help against him now, we must bring it from outside this region. From the east!”


  “From the Nandas?” Chandragupta exclaimed. “But they are Vaishya kings. Known to be spendthrift, tyrants and evil.”

  “They are also known to have the largest standing army in the whole of Bharathvarsha.” I pointed out.

  “You will go to the Nandas for help?” Chandragupta couldn’t believe his ears.

  “When stuck, even the Lord Narayan bowed at a donkey’s feet.” I quoted a Sanskrit subhashita, trying to make him understand.

  We had reached the crossroads by then. The buggy stopped. Dileepa quietly got down and started detaching a horse from it. I got down. Chandragupta got down behind me.

  “Let me come with you, Guru,” he said.

  “No!” I said staunchly.

  “Why?” he pleaded.

  I took the reins of the horse and climbed up on its back.

  “I am going to bring help,” I told him, “You stay here, and make sure that this place remains worthy to be helped.”

  Then I heeled the horse and sped away without looking back.

  Raja Ambhi stormed into his throne room, opening the doors from the outside. He walked straight up to his throne.

  “General!” He barked. “Prepare the army. I declare martial law in Taxila.”

  “And what should I ask the army to prepare for?” The general asked.

  “For war!” Ambhi barked. “We ride out today. We march north to Jhelum. And we go into war!”

  RADHAGUPTA

  Patliputra, 272 BC

  The royal palace of Patliputra was a grand building, first built by the great Maharaja Ajatshatru, the legendary Maharaja of Magadha, almost half a millennia ago. Since then it had been built upon at least a thousand times, but the traces of the old palace still remained.

  Samrat Chandragupta had not spent any money to renovate the palace. Instead he had used that money for the welfare of the state and the people. So the palace had not changed at all and looked exactly like it had when the Nandas ruled.

  It reminded him of his childhood, in East Hill when he would sleep, watching the lit palace in the dark, dreaming of sleeping in it someday.

  Although he still did not live there as councilor, Radhagupta spent most of his days in there, absorbed in his work. Now he was walking along the high corridors along the east side. From there he could watch a view of the East Hill. It was almost evening and the palace cast its shadow over the slums there.

  “Prime Minister!” Radhagupta greeted an old man who was standing there, gazing outside.

  The old man turned slowly to look at him. “Councilor Radhagupta, what are you doing in these parts of the palace? I thought you didn’t like coming here.”

  “I don’t,” Radhagupta said, gazing at the view of the hill. “Perhaps we could sit inside, Prime Minister.”

  The prime minister led him up a flight of stairs to his chambers, which were just across the corridor. They were vast and decorated.

  “Prime Minister Rakshasa inhabited these rooms before me.” He said, lounging on a long armchair. “He was however a man of quite simple tastes. When I took his place after him, I changed the whole look and made it fit for a Prime Minister.”

  You mean after you bribed your way in the palace to become prime minister. Radhagupta thought. The prime minister had been a rich cloth merchant in the city and there had been rumors that he had paid an ample bribe to Samrat Bindusar for the position after Rakshasa had died. It appeared that even after that, he had been left with ample money to completely redecorate the place.

  A servant poured them drinks. Radhagupta looked at him. He was a non-Arya, which could be guessed from his dark skin. Radhagupta looked at him pitifully. He was doomed to live all his life like that, in servitude of others.

  “So what brings you to so high a place in the palace, councilor?” The prime minister enquired, stretching his legs.

  “I am worried about the Samrat’s health,” Radhagupta said, feeling uncomfortable in the armchair.

  “So is the Samrat himself.” The prime minister said. “Only today morning, he confided in me that he thought he would not live long.”

  Radhagupta covered his own mouth. “Let that never happen.”

  “Yes, let that never happen.” The prime minister repeated.

  “But in case it does happen, “Radhagupta said, looking up, “a successor will have to be chosen.”

  “What’s to choose?” The prime minister said. “It is no secret that Prince Sushem is and has been the Samrat’s favorite son. As Maharaja Sushem of Taxila, he has already started conducting the Ashwamedha Yadnya in all its glory. He has dispatched a mighty stallion to roam all over the realm. If the horse returns unopposed to Taxila, he shall take the title of Chakravartin. It won’t be long before he is Samrat Sushem.”

  “But,” Radhagupta said carefully, “there are a hundred Maurya princes. And soon, they shall become a hundred Maurya pretenders. For the sake of the realm, these pretenders must be satisfied, or each of them will plot, trying to be Samrat.”

  “Most of them aren’t interested in becoming Samrat at all.” The prime minister laughed. “Most of them don’t hold much power or influence to be of any hindrance either. As long as they have liquor to drink and women to copulate with, they shall be satisfied.”

  “But there is one,” Radhagupta said, “one who was dispatched recently with an army to Avanti to quell the rebellion there. He has the army standing firmly behind him. If he is victorious in Avanti, all the nobles in that region will follow him too.”

  “Prince Asoka is the least favorite son of the Samrat.” The prime minister said. “The Samrat cast him out long ago when he made him study in the army barracks with common people. He has been in the army since then. He has been mostly away on campaigns and knows nothing of politics at all. I have heard that he is an upfront, straight man with a military bearing. I don’t think he will be any trouble.”

  “I wonder how the Samrat sent him to Avanti in the first place.” Radhagupta asked. “If he was the least favorite of all.”

  “It is heard that Prince Sushem put in a word with the Samrat himself for that to happen.” The prime minister whispered. “But you did not hear it from me.”

  “Whatever motive Prince Sushem has had for sending Asoka to Avanti,” Radhagupta said, “this has created a whole new problem.”

  “Asoka will inherit nothing from his father.” The prime minister said. “I don’t see any problem.”

  “Asoka shall indeed inherit nothing from his father,” Radhagupta said, “that makes him the most troublesome. Unsatisfied, he may go to any lengths to assert his right. If he quells this rebellion in Avanti and gets nothing as reward, he may go berserk with anger. This on a background where Samrat Bindusar is incurably ill forebodes a civil war.”

  “What you say is the truth.” The prime minister said, thoughtfully. “But I see no means to rectify it now. What is done is done.”

  “There is a way.” Radhagupta said. “What is necessary is that a position of power is given to Asoka in a rebellious province, which is at the border of the realm, so that he is constantly busy in sorting out his own matters and gets no time to do anything else.”

  “Such a province is Avanti itself.” The prime minister exclaimed.

  “It is all the more simple then,” Radhagupta said. “The last governor of Avanti was killed when Avarak’s rebels stormed Ujjain. After the rebellion, a new governor will have to be chosen anyway.”

  “It will be very hard to convince the Samrat of this,” The prime minister said. “If the Samrat has his way, Asoka will get nothing at all. The Samrat will never agree to this.”

  “I propose that I tell the Samrat the pros and cons of appointing Asoka as Governor,” Radhagupta said.

  “Avanti is the biggest province after Taxila.” The prime minister said. “The Samrat will rubbish this advice.”

  “What the Samrat will do, he will anyway do in the end,” Radhagupta said. “But we must not fall short of convincing him to do what we thin
k is right.”

  “The right thing.” The prime minister muttered.

  “I want to tell this idea to the Samrat,” Radhagupta said. “But I wanted to run it by you first.”

  “Yes, you did correctly,” the prime minister said.

  “I have hopes that the Samrat will reward me for this thought,” Radhagupta said.

  “I don’t think so,” the prime minister said, “I don’t think you should tell this to the Samrat at all.”

  “You don’t?” Radhagupta looked up innocently. It’s so easy to make you believe me. He almost smiled.

  “Take my advice, young man,” the prime minister said, “don’t tell this to the Samrat. In fact don’t tell it to anyone. Just keep it to yourself. It is a dangerous idea and I don’t think you should broadcast it too much.”

  “If you think so, Prime Minister, then I won’t.” Radhagupta said. “I just had a feeling that the Samrat will would like this, but then you know him more than me.”

  “Indeed I do.” The prime minister said, getting up.

  Radhagupta got up too. “I think I shall take your leave now.” He bowed and said. “I have coins to count and ledgers to fill.”

  “Sure, sure!” The prime minister said. “And do make sure you see me before you rashly tell anything like this to anyone.”

  Radhagupta smiled as he left the prime minister’s chambers. His plan had been successful. The Prime Minister would now sell the idea to Samrat Bindusar as one of his own, like he had done before on countless occasions. Except that this time, it was going to backfire on him.

  It was completely dark when Radhagupta re-entered the corridor. Oil lamps had been lit along the walls, and the light from them caused his shadow to fall big. He looked down from the wall. Nothing was visible at all on East Hill.

  He smiled.

  “One down, two to go.” He said to himself.

  The Battle of Hydpses

  The river of Hydpses, 50 years earlier

  Alexander, Shahanshah of Persia, Pharaoh of the lands of the Nile, master of the Greek city states and Basileus of Anatolia, stepped out of his tent and cursed loudly as a frown formed on his face. It wasn’t raining at all.