“I want someone who can’t touch Pushyamitra.” He had winked.
“I’ll get you a nice Buddhist Grandma.” She had said laughing. That beautiful laughter! That small dimple on her left cheek as she laughed!
“Who will save me now from the attacker?” He had muttered.
“Oh and here I was thinking that you’d rather die now without me.” She had said, winking.
Two days had passed since then, and on both of the nights, his dreams had been ridden by her face. She had a magical effect upon him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Only by much force, was he able to bring his mind to the task at hand.
Their passage through the mountains had been uneventful. There had been no ambushes or raids of any kind. Shiva had kept his promise. No rebel soldiers had harassed them along the way. In return, Asoka had not let his soldiers harass any Avanti villagers they marched.
Soon they could see Ujjain, the capital of Avanti, which was the rebel stronghold. After passing through the mountain pass, the city walls could be seen far away. The men cheered as they caught sight of the target.
Soon a single rider with a white flag approached. His men let him pass over to him.
“General Shiva wants to meet.” The rider brought a message. “You and one bodyguard only.”
And now I miss Pushyamitra! Asoka thought. It was at times like these that he wanted the young captain with a sword by his side. But Pushyamitra was badly injured, and Asoka had left him to be treated in Vidishanagri.
Devi had made a face when had told her to look after his treatment.
“As if he’s going to listen to what I have to say!” She had said.
“Don’t be dramatic.” Asoka had told her. “Just find some good Hindu Vaidya for him.”
“Oh what fun will that be?” She had said with mock displeasure.
“Believe me, my Lady, you don’t want to have fun with Pushyamitra.” A wink had done the trick. She had found some good Hindu doctors to look after him.
And so there was no use in searching for Pushyamitra in the crowd, yet Asoka’s eyes wavered by habit. Finally he chose the biggest soldier he could find and set off with him on horseback behind the messenger rider.
Shiva’s tent was located on a small hill with Ujjain as its backdrop. Shiva stood outside with his arms folded, leaning on a bamboo support of the tent.
“My father is inside.” He whispered, as Asoka got down from the horse and walked up to him. “Let us see how you convince him to lay down his weapons.”
“That’s a nice way to say best of luck.” Asoka taunted. Then he looked at Ujjain. The city towered over them.
“Well, go inside now!” Shiva said.
“I wanted to speak with you first,” Asoka said.
“My father is the one who decides everything,” Shiva said. “It is he you must speak with.”
“Of course, your father is the one who decides everything now,” Asoka said, “but that’ll not be forever, will it?”
“Shiva looked amused. “I see what you are getting at.”
‘Good.” Asoka said. “I want to know what you want in this bargain, Shiva. Soon it is you who shall inherit the love of the people of Avanti from your father. And then I don’t want you unsatisfied.”
“You already know what I want, Asoka.” Shiva said. “We have been talking about it since we were children, in the military camps.”
“Yes.” Asoka said. “You want to be Maharaja of Avanti, but not of an independent Avanti. You want to remain a vassal of Patliputra.”
“I am not much of a Raja,” Shiva said. “It takes strength to admit this, but there are no secrets amongst us. I wouldn’t be able to run a Rajya, even if I had one. I can only be successful as a vassal, where someone tells me what to do, and I do it to the best of my ability.”
“I get it.” Asoka said. “I daresay I’m going to turn this situation into a win-win for all of us. You are going to get what you want, and I am going to get what I want, and Maharaja Avarak is going to get what he wants.”
“And if all of us are going to get what we want,” Shiva smiled, “then it certainly means many others are going to lose what they have.”
Asoka smiled. “I’m going inside now.”
“I’ll still maintain that it is impossible to convince my father of anything,” Shiva said.
“Don’t give me that look of disbelief,” Asoka said. “You have seen me do impossible things before.”
Shiva bowed. “Best of luck.”
Asoka nodded and walked inside the tent.
Maharaja Avarak was sitting on a huge couch made of animal fur and cotton. Even in this old age, his big arms and chest were visible in his cloak. His one eye was fixed upon the entrance to the tent and the place where the other eye should have been was covered tightly with a piece of black cloth. Asoka bowed and bent down to touch his feet.
Maharaja Avarak was so old, that his silvery white beard ran down all the way to his feet. His face was full of freckles. Yet when he spoke, his voice was full of authority.
“Live long. “He blessed as Asoka rose back up. Asoka smiled. Normally the practice to bless was “Be victorious”. But here he was still the enemy, so Maharaja Avarak had blessed him the other way.
“Great Maharaja,” Asoka greeted, “the descendant of the great Rajas of Avanti and its rightful ruler! I have come to ask you for advice.”
“I know why you’ve come.” There was a shade of anger in Maharaja Avarak’s voice. “You have come because you are afraid of fighting us.”
Asoka sat at the Maharaja’s feet. “Believe me, I am not afraid.” He said. “But the soldiers of my army refuse to fight with the men of the army of Avanti. Both of them fought together in the southern wars. Most of them are brothers for the sake of the Gods! If I must insist upon them to fight, they will, but their hearts won’t be into it. And all of it shall be useless butchery.”
“It won’t be useless butchery at all.” Maharaja Avarak said. “It will be a sacrifice for the pride of Avanti.”
“Avanti’s pride and prestige are still its own.” Asoka said. “No battle against kinsmen shall elevate it. And no gesture of peace shall undermine it.”
Avarak laughed. “My soldiers shall fight who I ask them to.” He said. “I think you can’t say the same about your soldiers. That’s why you are here!”
“My soldiers’ loyalty in me is unquestionable.” Asoka said. “But I shall be failing their faith in me, if I do not try to stop this unnecessary battle. That is the reason why I am here!”
“That’s not all, is it?” Avarak said.
“Yes.” Asoka agreed. “That’s not all. It’s personal too. If we do have to fight, it does mean that I shall have to fight your son. And I do not want that. There is no doubt that Shiva must have told you that we were comrades in the wars.”
The mention of Shiva’s name seemed to soften the Maharaja a bit. “Come clean, Prince and tell me what you want.” He said.
“I want you to stop your rebellion!” Asoka said humbly.
“Surrender to Patliputra!” Avarak trembled with rage. “What you ask of me is betrayal of the very cause we are fighting,” he said, “and I cannot do that.”
“And what is this cause of yours?” Asoka asked.
“Revenge for the injustice done to Avanti.”
“And exactly how was this injustice done?” Asoka asked.
“Son, you fought in the southern wars too,” Avarak said.
“Shoulder to shoulder with your son,” Asoka said.
“So you know how hard it was for the youth of Avanti.”
“Hardships must come for elevation of prestige.”
“Only if they are to be followed with proper rewards!” Avarak said. “And the people of Avanti got no rewards, but got corruption and tyranny instead.”
“Tell me exactly, why were the southern wars fought?” Asoka asked.
“To bring the southern lands under the rule of Patliputra,” Avarak said.
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br /> “Even the mere name of Patliputra makes you tremble with rage,” Asoka said. “Yet years ago, you asked your people to fight for it! What was Patliputra for you, Maharaja? Why must your youth fight for some city in the north?”
“We did not fight for Patliputra,” Avarak said. “We fought for what it represented. We fought because Samrat Chandragupta’s son asked us to fight.”
“And now his grandson asks you not to fight,” Asoka said.
“You know nothing of what your grandfather was, boy,” Avarak’s words were curt. “If you look at your father and think he was like him, then I daresay you are deeply mistaken.”
“True.” Asoka said. “I know nothing of my grandfather. He left the throne and the city long before I became of knowledgeable age, but I have grown up listening to the stories of his deeds and thoughts and I am doing my best to instill in myself the values that he represented.”
“He and Chanakya,” Avarak’s eyes had become dreamy, “they were the best damn thing to happen to Bharath, I tell you. I was Raja of Avanti once too, boy. Chandragupta and Chanakya convinced me to join their federation. It is very hard to make some independent Raja follow you, but Chandragupta had that ability. Men wanted to follow him. Even crowned men like me.”
“And now you want to be crowned again,” Asoka said, “leader of an independent Avanti.”
“You are deeply mistaken, boy!” Avarak said loudly. “After the dreams Chandragupta and Chanakya have shown me, these small aims no longer inspire me. I only want to serve a capable master like Chandragupta for the upliftment of my people, for I don’t have the qualities to take his place. But alas Samrat Bindusar is nothing his father was.”
“It takes great humility on your part,” Asoka said, “to say that even you do not possess the qualities of a Raja when men of much inferior qualities are occupying positions much higher than you. But nor am I being proud on my side, when I say that I am trying to become what Chandragupta was.”
“You’ll never be,” Avarak said, “not without a Chanakya.”
Asoka sighed. The Maharaja wasn’t budging at all. “It is said that to want to become something is to take the first step towards it.” He said. “I shall find my Chanakya.”
Maharaja Avarak laughed. It was a long and loud laugh filled with sarcasm. “We could talk like this all day, boy, but I won’t change my decision.” He coughed. “So why don’t you do me a favor and pour me some of that wine over there.”
Asoka got up and walked over to the side table that the Maharaja was pointing at. He picked up the jar and poured the wine in the two goblets by its side. “We shouldn’t be enemies, Maharaja.” He said, as he handed over one goblet to him.
Maharaja Avarak laughed as his strong hand took the goblet from Asoka’s hands. “You know what,” he said, “the last time these words were spoken to me, I gave in.” He raised his cup. “To Bharathvarsha.”
Asoka raised his cup too. “To Bharathvarsha.” He repeated and put the glass to his lips. As he sipped in the sour wine, he realized that the Maharaja was still holding his own goblet.
Asoka stopped drinking at once. His first thoughts were of treachery, the two attacks in the nights flashed before his eyes as he put his cup down, but then he realized that it was Maharaja Avarak who was shaking instead. The old man’s eye was almost white. The hand that was holding the goblet shook as he gazed ahead with horror on his face. Then the Maharaja’s grip loosened and the goblet fell down to the floor with a clang, spilling the wine on the ground.
“This is an omen,” Maharaja Avarak’s voice was shaking. “I can’t believe this!”
Asoka bent down to pick up the goblet that had fallen to the floor. He picked it up, but the Maharaja had clutched his right hand and pulled it ahead. He was gazing right at the ring in his finger.
“Where did you get this ring?” The Maharaja was now shaking all over.
Asoka felt his heart beating fast as the Maharaja clutched his hand tighter. “A man gave it to me.” He said. “In Patliputra.”
Maharaja Avarak kept looking at the ring as he spoke. “Only one man could have given you this ring.” He said. “Only one man!” Then he let go of his hand and closed his eyes, and brought his hands together, as if to pray.
Asoka turned his palm and looked at the ring. It was still the same, a gold circlelet with the black stone with a red snake engraved. The words he had heard echoed in his head. This is the most precious ring in the whole of Bharathvarsha.
Avarak kept his eyes closed as he spoke. “The last time I saw this ring,” he said, “Chandragupta was wearing it.”
It took a moment for the Maharaja’s words to seep into his mind. Then Asoka looked up. “And now I am wearing it,” he said, “and like my grandfather promised you a better future for your people, I will too. This rebellion is not doing anyone any good, Maharaja. And it is not worth a battle to stop it.”
Maharaja Avarak sighed. “You are different from all the other Mauryas I have met until now.” He said. “You do not look like your grandfather at all, but you do speak like him. A little! And you wear his ring.”
“Does this mean that you will consider stopping the rebellion?” Asoka asked.
Avarak sighed again. “It is about Shiva’s pride. It was he who started it in the first place, by slaying that tyrant Governor. I can’t just ask him to stop the rebellion. It will be injustice to him!”
Asoka smiled. Like father, like son.
“What if I could convince Shiva to stop the rebellion too?” He asked. “What if I could show him the harm that it is causing?”
“My son takes a long time to be persuaded of anything,” Avarak said. “I say that it is almost impossible to convince him of anything.”
Asoka couldn’t help smiling. “I shall have to do impossible tasks to be worthy of this ring in my finger.” He said, raising his palm.
Avarak pulled the palm towards him and held it, the ring side up. He kissed it with his lips.
“The last time I saw this ring, I kissed it like this.” He said. “Offering my allegiance to it. I told the man wearing it to be worthy of it. Chandragupta didn’t disappoint me. Don’t you disappoint me either, boy.”
“I won’t.” Asoka promised. He bent down and touched Avarak’s feet again. Avarak held his hand over Asoka’s head.
“Be victorious.” He said this time.
“Your father calls you inside,” Asoka said, emerging from the tent. Shiva shrugged and walked in.
Asoka got up on his horse as he waited for Shiva to come out. Then he realized that his heart was beating very fast. He looked back at the ring; it was still there on his finger. He reverently put it to his head.
Shiva’s eyes were full of surprise when he walked out. “Father tells me to gather the army,” he said, “he said that he will talk to them and then let you enter the city.”
“Good,” Asoka said as he mounted his horse.
“What did you do, Asoka?” Shiva asked, his eyes wide with surprise.
“Apparently I just did what my grandfather, Chandragupta, did years ago,” Asoka shrugged. Then he heeled his horse away.
Chanakya
Patliputra, 50 years earlier
The night was dark, but it felt darker because nobody was on the streets.
“Why is the city so silent at night?” I asked, as I moved my horse to Avarak’s side. Avarak was hardly visible, dressed completely in his black hood.
“People are afraid of the guards.” Avarak said. “No one leaves their homes at night.”
“I see no guards either, to be afraid of.” I said.
“Most of them keep patrolling the gardens.” Avarak said. “Others spend their time drinking and whoring.”
“And God help those who cross their paths after that.” I sighed.
“It’s a jungle out here, friend.” Avarak simply said.
The trees from the gardens towered over the buildings and the city indeed felt like a jungle.
We moved through th
e narrow alleys carefully, just the two of us. Avarak led, I followed. We had wrapped the mouths of our horses with cloth, to avoid any neighs. He took me through narrow alleys, avoiding the main streets.
“What if we run into any guards?” I asked, softly.
Avarak merely pointed to his sword. I looked down at the one that was dangling from my side too. Avarak had given it to me soon after we had left the Order’s hideout.
It was a new moon’s night, and the sky was completely dark except the thousands of small stars.
It’s so ironical. There are so many of these stars, but they are of no use at all. A thousand stars can’t give what one single moon can provide.
“The man you left in my place, in the prisons,” I asked, “what’s going to happen to him?”
“He will be tortured and killed.” Avarak said. “Tortured quite a lot. You did threaten the Maharaja in front of the whole court, after all.”
“Where do you get these men?” I asked.
“Some of them are shudras.” Avarak said. “We capture them outside the city, and then cut off their tongues. Then we leave them in the place of those whom we rescue.”
“What if they tell the guards by signs?” I asked.
“Nobody cares about the prisoners.” Avarak said. “But for important prisoners like you, we put men of the Order in their place. Men who sacrifice their lives for a greater cause.”
“So the man you put in my place was…”
“A brother of the Order.” Avarak said. “He cut his hair, dressed like you and sacrificed his life for the torture and death to come.”
“But this is brutal.” I said.
“Brutal indeed, but necessary.” Avarak said. “He is a brother of the Order however, and we make sure that he does not suffer much. A vial of the deadly kalkoot poison is placed in his possession before he is made to take the prisoner’s place.”
“So they commit suicide in the cells?” I asked.
“Suicide is far better than the torture that would come upon them if they didn’t,” Avarak sighed.
“It frightens me to think that it could still have been me inside that cell.” I said.
“I was in there for one whole month, Brother,” Avarak said. He removed his hood a little bit, and I saw burnt and dried flesh in the place where an ear should have been.
The Prince of Patliputra Page 19