The Prince of Patliputra

by Shreyas Bhave

  “Craterus,” he called out to his general, who was standing outside his tent, inspecting some weapons, “this Indian weather is too treacherous. All full of mist and yet, rain eludes us.”

  “Indeed, Basileus,” Craterus agreed, pointing to the other side of the river.

  Alexander looked where he was pointing and saw the mighty silhouettes of elephants in the mist. They were like big black hills, and Alexander could hear their resonating trumpets through the fog.

  “Looks like Porus is bringing the elephants to the river to drink water again,” Craterus said.

  “Maybe he plans to dry the river like that, then attack.” Alexander joked. He walked up to a brass vessel filled with water to wash his face. The cold water stung his bare skin.

  “Where is Bucaphela?” He asked, once he had washed his face.

  “Your horse was itching to run off since this morning,” Craterus said

  “Like me,” Alexander said, “He hates being put in one place.”

  “I sent some soldiers to take him grazing.” Craterus said. “He ran off with them as fast as he could once his reins were let loose.”

  Alexander smiled. That was typical Bucaphela!

  He remembered the wild ferocious horse he had tamed back in Greece by tricking it. Bucaphela was so strong that nobody had been able to mount him for he kept moving. Alexander had observed that the horse was chasing its own shadow. Alexander had blocked the sunlight, Bucaphela had calmed down, and then Alexander had mounted him. He had won the horse that way.

  Since then Bucaphela had become quite tame. Yet some of his old habits remained. He only grazed on fresh grass and not the hay the other horses were provided with. Yet, in the past few days, due to the mist, Alexander had kept him tied near his tent. As soon as the mist had reduced that morning, the old beast in him had risen.

  “They went in that direction,” Craterus pointed.

  “Tell the men to rest today,” Alexander said. “We break camp and march along the river again tonight.” Then he set off in the direction Craterus had pointed.

  Over the last few days, he and his army had travelled quite a long way from where they had first met Porus’s army. It had been when they had seen the river, Hydpses, for the first time. It was a mighty river, flowing with full force and very wide. Porus’s army was camped on the other side with numerous elephants visible.

  Not much knowledge was available about this strange beast. A frontal crossing of the river was impossible. They didn’t even know the numbers of Porus’s army.

  During the next nights, the two armies had shadowed each other. Alexander would move to the north, along the river, and Porus’s army followed them from the other side. They camped in the day. Sometimes they marched during the day to confuse the enemy. But Porus had been a prompt opponent and shadowed their every move.

  And that is how both the armies had ended up very far from where they had first met each other. Yet not one ounce of blood had been spilled. Those killed were due to the skirmishing arrows fired from both sides. And those weren’t proper deaths either, mostly injuries.

  The presence of the elephants made crossing impossible. The only possible solution was a pincer movement, to confuse the enemy and cross the river somewhere else. But to achieve that, Alexander needed rain. And it wasn’t raining at all.

  He walked along the grassy plains for quite a while.

  “Bucaphela!” he shouted, to get their attention. But there was no reply. He wondered how far had his horse taken them.

  He remembered his past battles. He remembered Guagemala where he had destroyed the Persians by concentrating his forces in the Persian center.

  He was confident of his ability to win once the battle began. But here, days had passed and yet they were not a bit nearer to a battle than they had been before.

  He wondered about this Aryan king, Porus, who his spies had told him was taller than two Alexanders put together and very well built. Since the fall of the Persians, rulers were surrendering to him by fourfold. He wondered if Porus was stubborn, or too brave not to do so.

  “Bucaphela.” He called loudly again. There was no point in going too far from the camp where there would be danger of enemy spies.

  He weighed the consequences that a victory on Porus would lead to. Porus was said to be the strongest king in the area. There was no doubt that his fall would make all the other rulers rush to him for an alliance, like King Ambhi of Taxila had already done. He had to win here. That would open the doors to all of India, and then he could march up to the holy river Ganges itself.

  “Bucaphela!”

  This time, there was a faint call. Alexander strained his eyes, and saw four small specks of color ride towards him. The center one was black and the others were brown. The black one was his.

  As they drew nearer, Alexander could see the white star shaped patch on its brow. It was indeed Bucaphela.

  Bucaphela galloped and reached him in minutes. He bowed down playfully and rubbed his head on his master’s hand. Alexander rubbed his nose. The other four horses with soldiers reached them soon after.

  One of the soldiers from the other horses jumped down, and fell at his feet.

  “Basileus!” He said with such excitement that he couldn’t even hold his own breath, “Your horse grazed on the other side of the river.”

  “What do you mean?” Alexander asked, turning away from Bucaphela.

  “He took us a long way along the river.” The soldier said. “We tried to stop him, but you know how fast he is.”

  “Continue,” ordered Alexander.

  “Well he somehow discovered a crossing, quite far from here, crossed the river and grazed the grass on the other side.”

  “In the name of Zeus!” Alexander swore, “Does Porus know about this?”

  “No, My Basileus.” The soldier said. “There was no one at all on the other bank. We kept hastening the horse because we were afraid of an ambush, but there wasn’t anyone at all.”

  “Come!” Alexander said, as he mounted Bucaphela in one swift motion. He heeled the horse and it galloped towards the camp. On it, Alexander’s heart was equally galloping.

  “Please let it rain tonight!” He prayed. “Please let it rain!”

  Raja Puru watched his elephants drink water from the Jhelum river from the large chair in front of his tent. They brought their heads down, sucked water in their trunks and sprayed it in their mouths all in unison.

  Every morning in camp, he would make the elephants stand on the edge of the river to make the other side realize that a crossing was foolishness. But it was Puru himself who was feeling foolish.

  How long was this going to last? They had been shadowing Alexander ever since they had caught sight of his army. Promptly following him as he marched along the river, but not letting him cross. How long were they going to continue doing this? He was surrounded by enemies on all sides. Sooner or later, some of them were going to leave their neutrality and join Alexander. And then, he would have to risk an attack in the rear.

  Nor could he retreat, because he was in the best possible defensive position he could find, where everything was to his advantage. The wide river, the elephants, the terrain; he couldn’t have wished for anything better.

  All he could do was attack. Order his elephants to cross the river. But he would not attack. He was afraid of Alexander. He had heard of the Greek king’s feats, and he preferred to wait on this bank, instead of risking a crossing.

  And though it seemed that Raja Puru had cornered Alexander, the truth was that he himself felt cornered. His fate was no longer in his own hands. Whatever would happen next depended not on what he would do, but on what Alexander would do. The only possible favorable outcome was if Alexander would retreat.

  But Alexander was not retreating, and it made Puru uneasy. Because if Alexander was not retreating, then he must have a plan. And Puru himself had none.

  He stood up from his chair. He was very tall, but at that moment, he felt like
a dwarf.

  “We do it tonight,” Alexander declared. He and his generals were huddled in a large tent which was the dining hall but had been converted into a war room.

  “But Basileus,” General Coenus argued, “The men have had no time to prepare. Half of the day is already over.”

  “I don’t care.” Alexander said. “We’ve discovered the crossing first. But it does not mean that the enemy will not discover it too.”

  “We could probably divide our army and form a defensive position at that crossing to avoid any…”

  “No!” Alexander said loudly, “Don’t think like Porus. He has been on the defensive for the last many weeks and what good has it done him? You are my General. Think like my General! Think of an attack.”

  “I don’t think an attack will be a good idea, Basileus,” General Coenus said. “If we move lot of our army, Porus will understand and shadow us. If however we send a small contingent across, I don’t think it will be enough to overwhelm his army.”

  “We must deceive him.” Alexander said. “He must feel that our army is still here, while most of it makes the crossing. Once he realizes that we have crossed, he will have to send the elephants towards them, clearing his side of the riverbank. The rest of the army will also cross then, encircling him.”

  “It is a very bold plan.” General Coenus said. “But the numbers are not on our side.”

  “Each side thinks that the numbers are not on their side,” Alexander said. “In our quest to be safe, we tend to under calculate things. It diminishes the risks we are willing to take. And no great feat can be achieved without a risk. It is exactness that is important. And I think that we can pull this off.”

  “Your wish is our command after all, Basileus.” General Craterus was sitting at Coenus’s side. “Your tactics have proved victorious many times in the past. We believe in you.”

  “Good!” said Alexander. “Ready the men.”

  When the subordinate officers had left the tent, he glared at Coenus. “You should never express doubt in presence of subordinates.”

  Coenus bowed in apology. “Forgive me, Basileus.”

  “As a punishment, you will lead the crossing army,” Alexander said, raising his cup. “So will I. We will take a combined force of five thousand infantry and six thousand cavalry across in the darkness of the night.”

  “Such a large movement will be noticed,” Craterus warned.

  “We will take care.” Alexander said. “You will light as many bonfires on this side of the river as you can. It should seem that the entire army has camped here for the night.”

  “It will be done, Basileus.” Craterus bowed

  “If we pull this off,” Alexander said, “Tomorrow, we shall enter Bharat. We shall be the first Greeks to do so as conquerors.”

  “For Zeus!” All of them raised their cups in the air.

  Suddenly a sentry came running to the tent. “An envoy brings news.” He shouted and stopped to catch his breath.

  Everyone waited with bated breath.

  “Raja Ambhi of Taxila has left the city and declared war on Raja Porus.” He said. “He and his army are half a day’s distance away from our camp, and are planning to join us.”

  Alexander raised his cup, “This is sign. From God Zeus himself! He is asking us to go forward with our plan.”

  “Aye!” Everyone shouted.

  “Let’s start then!” Alexander said, gulping down his wine in one stroke and getting up from the table.

  “Let tomorrow be the biggest battle the world has ever seen.” He said, as he lifted the fabric of the tent. He stepped outside.

  He looked up. Black clouds had started to form in the sky above. There was lightning. It was as if a message from Zeus.

  Everything was perfect.

  Raja Puru watched the clouds forming in the dark sky from his side of the river with anguish.

  The signs were all there - the black clouds, the deafening sounds from the sky, frequent lightning and harshly blowing wind. There would be a storm that night. And it worried him.

  A storm would mean less visibility. It would become very hard to see the other side of the river. Not only that, it would become very hard to see this side of the river as well.

  Also, a storm would mean the earth getting wet. His chariots wouldn’t be able to run on wet mud. Their wheels would get stuck. His skirmishers wouldn’t be able to fire lighted arrows. His elephants would be slowed down.

  Whereas the Greek horses could run capably on the wet mud, and the Greek infantry would use their spears to much advantage.

  If Alexander had a move, this was the perfect night to execute it.

  Puru looked at all his sons and nobles who had gathered around him in his royal tent. The sun was yet to set, but the clouds had completely covered it and it was as dark as it had set. His servants were putting logs in a metal cauldron kept on a tripod to make light and heat. The flickering light of the fire fell on everybody’s faces.

  “Be extra vigilant tonight.” Puru told them. “Let the sentries cover more area today. Let the scouts mount the elephants to see further afar. Let no man in our camp sleep tonight and each one be on his guard.”

  “Yes we will, Father,” they all said.

  Once he had dismissed them, he sat by the fire.

  Chanakya’s words echoed in his head.

  Maybe I should have apologized to Ambhi. I would have been in a stronger position today. Maybe I could even have thought of crossing the river and attacking the enemy, taking advantage of the weather. Chanakya is right. I was being defensive. I overestimated the enemy. Hearing of his victories and feats, I always considered him better than me. Always considered his army more in number than mine. Maybe the reverse is true. Maybe I should have attacked tonight. But I am not attacking. Instead, I am telling my men to be extra defensive. If Alexander does attack tonight, half of the victory is already his, because destiny always favors the bold.

  Puru clenched the amulet of Shiva around his neck. It gave him strength. He decided he would do what he did best and not think about the rest.

  Fight!

  Night had fallen and it had started raining in torrents. Lightning strikes lit up the sky above them and cloud sounds deafened them.

  Alexander led his combined troops of cavalry and infantry from the front. Some distance to his left, Coenus also led from his horse.

  Below him, Bucaphela capably traversed the earth, which had begun to become wet. Alexander patted him and looked ahead.

  It was hard to see, for the rain fell towards them, on their faces. Alexander adjusted his helmet which somewhat weakened the force of the water. He wondered what was happening back at the camp.

  Back there, they had left a quarter of the force, but made it seem that everyone was there. Men had started a thousand campfires, but they must have been extinguished by now due to the rain. General Craterus was stationed there, with orders to reinforce with Raja Ambhi’s army and wait for a proper moment to cross.

  As for the battle, Alexander had not thought much about it. Each battle was different, and he liked to make decisions on the spot. He however had a rough outline in his head.

  He would counter the elephants like he would counter ordinary cavalry, with his phalanx. That was why he was also taking large numbers of infantry with him.

  While the cavalry would move fast as a flanking force, the infantry deployed as a phalanx would act as the fixing force.

  The rain grew more severe and wind began to move fast.

  Alexander smiled. The storm had occurred at the perfect time. Zeus, the God of lightning, had blessed him.

  He kicked, and Bucaphela broke into a trot. As the mud would become wetter now, his cavalry needed to move faster to avoid getting their hooves stuck in the mud. His cavalry too, trotted behind him.

  Far away through the rain, Alexander could see the crossing to his right. He led Bucaphela towards it. As he drew nearer, he pulled the reins and brought Bucaphela to a halt.
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br />   Alexander reared the horse, and he immediately stood on his two hind legs. Alexander and Bucaphela cut a majestic figure against the dark, rainy backdrop. His cavalry soon caught up.

  “Forward!” he ordered, leading the way.

  The horses began to cross. He and Bucaphela led at the front. The water in the crossing was shallow, but flowing with tremendous speed.

  Bucaphela crossed carefully, digging his hooves into the shallow riverbed. Alexander held his mane firmly.

  There was no one on the other bank. Bucaphela soon stepped out of the water and stood on dry land. On the other side of the Hydpses river! They had done it. Alexander had crossed the river.

  He had become the first Greek conqueror to stand on Indian soil.

  “Impossible!” Puru shouted at the son who had come to report to him. “I can still see their camp.” He said, pointing at the other side of the river.

  “Almost all our scouts and lookouts are seeing a massive movement north of here on the other side, Father.” His son said. “It could be a flanking force.”

  “Impossible!” Puru ran out in the rain and stopped at the edge of the river. He pointed at a mahout to make the elephant sit.

  The mahout complied and the elephant sat down. Raja Puru hastily climbed upon its back and the elephant stood back up.

  From the top, he strained his eyes afar.

  “All their tents, their horses, I still see them.” Puru shouted. “I also see movement. Men moving.”

  “Maybe a small advance force is moving to flank us.” His son shouted from below. It was hard to hear in the rain.

  “Take sixty chariots.” Puru shouted, still from atop the elephant. “Take two hundred horses, and go find out what’s happening.”

  His son bowed, and left. Puru kept looking at the other side of the river.

  Another lightning strike flashed in the sky. The momentary burst of light illuminated everything around him, and then it was dark again.

  Puru was praying.

  Alexander surveyed the whole ground in front of him to decide his formation.