The Prince of Patliputra

by Shreyas Bhave

  “Oh come on!” Alexander said. “Let’s get out of here.” He turned and started walking.

  It took a long time however for Porus and Coenus to turn and walk too.

  Radhagupta

  Taxila, 270 BC

  “So I’ll be Raja?” Young Tissa asked, his eyes as big as marbles.

  Radhagupta looked at the seven year old boy with a smile. Vittasoka’s hair was light brown and fell over his forehead. He was looking ahead with joyful innocence. Radhagupta smiled.

  “Yes, you’ll be a Raja.” He said. “Not only a Raja, a proper Maharaja!”

  Tissa clapped with joy. “Like brother Sushem?” He asked.

  “Yes, like Maharaja Sushem,” Radhagupta said.

  “Will I get to wear a crown too like him?”

  “Only if you like it!” Radhagupta winked.

  “Sushem doesn’t like it,” Tissa said. “Says it’s heavy.”

  “But you are stronger than him, aren’t you?” Radhagupta laughed, pulling the young prince’s cheeks. Tissa tussled with him playfully to get out of his grasp. Radhagupta ruffled his hair, as he let him go.

  “Don’t touch his hair, he gets very angry,” Vittasoka’s mother said, entering the room.

  “No, he won’t with his uncle,” Radhagupta said.

  “You’ve made me ugly,” Tissa said, trying to readjust his hair.

  Vittasoka and his mother laughed together. Radhagupta stood up. “Samardni.” He said.

  “I’m your sister!” She said.

  “Sister,” Radhagupta said.

  “Go and play now.” She said to Vittasoka.

  “Not until uncle Radhagupta has given me my gift,” Tissa said.

  “What gift?” she asked, puzzled. Radhagupta brought out a small sword, pointed like a needle. He handed it over to the prince.

  Vittasoka took it and hugged Radhagupta. He came up to just his waist.

  “Is he even supposed to have that?” Vittasoka’s mother asked.

  “Oh I am sure Maharaja Sushem lets him play with the real thing too,” Radhagupta said.

  “Thanks, Mother,” Vittasoka hugged her too, and ran out of the room.

  “Sister!” Radhagupta said, sitting back down.

  “He misses you sometimes.” She said, looking at the figure of the prince going out of the hall. “Not too much though, there are things to keep him occupied here.”

  “I hope the Maharaja keeps him busy,” Radhagupta said.

  “Yeah, he does.” She said. “But not lately though. Lately Sushem’s been very busy with the preparations of the Yadnya.”

  “The Ashwamedha is a big sacrifice,” Radhagupta said. “The rituals involved with it are utterly strict.”

  “And boring too.” His sister said. “Maharani Divija, the chief queen of Sushem, is immensely bored. Sushem keeps so busy these days.” Her voice turned into a whisper. “That he isn’t doing his duties as a husband.”

  “That’s too bad,” Radhagupta said. “For that must have been the only interesting thing for her in this dull town.”

  “Dull town indeed.” His sister complained. “The Maharani misses Patliputra too much.”

  “That’s very good.” Radhagupta exclaimed. “For I have brought a gift for her, which will remind her of the capital.”

  “You have brought a gift for the queen?” His sister asked, surprised.

  “The Samrat has sent gifts for all his sons and daughters-in-law,” Radhagupta said.

  “And nothing for the wives!” She said angrily.

  “No.” Radhagupta agreed. “But here is a gift from a brother.” He reached out in his baggage and brought out an exquisite set of necklaces. His sister was overjoyed and immediately tried it on.

  “So now tell me, how did my brother become a Prime Minister?” She said, after she had put on the necklace.

  “The same way he became a minister,” Radhagupta said, “by impressing the Samrat.”

  “Oh!” She joked. “You became Minister because I vouched to my husband about my brother.”

  “I became councilor that way.” He winked. “The rest was the result of my own intrigues.”

  “Intrigues which you never tell me about.” She complained.

  “They are the court’s secret.” Radhagupta said. “And now soon, you will have your own set of intrigues to deal with as your son becomes a Maharaja.”

  She sighed sadly. “That means he will have to go, won’t he?”

  “Yes,” Radhagupta said. “The Samrat wishes to see him in the capital before he assumes his position.”

  “I’m so bored here, Brother.” She said. “So far from my husband. Can’t I go with him too?”

  “I don’t suppose that Maharani Divija will let you,” Radhagupta said. “She will be far more bored without you.”

  “I don’t want to send him alone,” she said, “with unknown people, he’s so young!”

  “You don’t have to.” Radhagupta said. “I’ll take him myself, on my way back.”

  “So soon?” She looked shocked. “Why?”

  Radhagupta leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “The Samrat is ill. He is dying.”

  “You don’t say?” Her eyes were wide with surprise. “My husband is dying? Will I ever see him again?”

  “You can try your luck with the queen.” Radhagupta said. “But without telling her what I just told you. It is a state secret.”

  She just nodded.

  “And I am taking Vittasoka with me when I leave, two days from now,” he said.

  Tears began to roll down her cheeks now.

  “Oh, Sister,” he said, “I shouldn’t have given you two pieces of bad news at once.”

  “It’s better than not knowing,” she said.

  He waited some time for her to compose herself. Then he sat back down on the chair. “Moving to the next order of business,” he said, “can you set me up a meeting with the Maharani?”

  Chanakya

  Taxila, 50 years earlier

  We stood upon a huge rock. Chandragupta showed me their hideout from atop a hill. We walked towards it. Soldiers walked by our sides.

  “It’s been so long since you left, Guru,” Chandragupta said. “I have so much to show you.”

  I watched the hideout which was hidden in the trees.

  “Our first act was to find and kill the Greek spies,” Chandragupta said. “The one I encountered in the forest was the first one to die.”

  “How many were there?” I asked.

  “Not much, a handful guided by local men.” Chandragupta said. “We killed all of them with stealth.”

  “Didn’t Alexander retaliate?”

  “No, he was confused,” Chandragupta said. “At first, he thought it was Ambhi himself who was killing them.”

  “I would have thought the same, were I him.” I said.

  “Then there was a wedding,” Chandragupta said, “of Puru and Ambhi’s daughter, here in Taxila.”

  “Yes, I have heard of this strange union,” I said.

  “Anyway, we chose this opportunity to make our first strike against Ambhi,” Chandragupta said.

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  “We set fire to the marriage pandal,” Chandragupta said. “We even killed some Greek noblemen.”

  “Alexander must have been furious.”

  “Yes, but his fury was directed towards Raja Ambhi.” Chandragupta said. “He saw it as Ambhi’s plan to persuade him to send the Taxilan army back. We made very sure that only Greeks were killed in our attack.”

  “Quite a strategy.” I agreed.

  “So Ambhi didn’t get his army back.” Chandragupta said. “Then he decided to raise a new one.”

  “That would have been perilous for you.” I said

  “We knew that.” Chandragupta said. “We had started spreading our operations to the villages. We told them how Ambhi was now under the thumb of foreign invaders. Told them of how their brothers and sons who had joined the previous army were now fi
ghting for the Greeks.”

  “The people at large must have been very ignorant.” I said.

  “Indeed.” Chandragupta said. “The Greek atrocities had not spread much to Taxila. But they would, in the future. We made sure no one would volunteer to fight for Ambhi, when his officers would come to recruit. If the officers threatened, we killed them.”

  “Excellent.” I said. “The first step in defeating any enemy is to reduce his power.”

  “And what powers do these kings command?” Chandragupta said. “A ruler of men has power due to the respect that the ruled have in him. Now that respect lies with us. We are running parallel governments in over half of the Taxilan countryside. We are saving the people from groups of Greek soldiers and missionaries that are coming this way. We are training them in arms, teaching them what we have learnt at the academy.”

  “Fantastic work.” I said. “You have achieved far more than I have in this last year.”

  We had now reached the hideout which lay in the middle of the dense forest.

  “Dileepa, look who’s back,” Chandragupta called. Dileepa came out promptly. A smile filled his face, and he bowed to me.

  “Dileepa has been in charge of the army we’re creating,” Chandragupta said,. “He has been doing fantastic work. The attack on the wedding, it was executed by him. Killing of the Raja’s officers, all him, and now he is working on something much much bigger.”

  “What?” I asked, blessing Dileepa.

  “The storming of Taxila itself!” Chandragupta said.

  “Isn’t that a little too soon?” I asked.

  “Not at all.” Chandragupta said. “Raja Ambhi rules in nothing but name. His power is restricted to the city now, and the city guard is the only thing under his control. Alexander won’t return his army, and he can’t raise another. The only thing now left to do is to take away his last safe haven, to take back Taxila.”

  “Such big a movement will have repercussions.” I noted, “Alexander will take the attack on one of his vassals seriously.”

  “That is the only part of the plan we’re not sure of,” Chandragupta said.

  “You boys have done fantastic work.” I said. “Now that I’m back, you leave that much part to me.

  Radhagupta

  Taxila, 271 BC

  “I have always loved fabrics,” Maharani Divija said, feeling the smooth shining silk on her face. She was almost as fair as the silk itself and her dark black hair done up nicely in braids behind her. Her eyes glowed at the sight of the cloth. “This reminds me of Patliputra.” She said, rubbing her cheek on it.

  “That’s what the Samrat thought,” Radhagupta said, leaning back on his chair. The Maharani was beautiful. He could hardly control himself from looking at her milky white belly which showed between the folds of her multi-layered saree.

  “I remember the weaving house in the palace,” she said, her eyes dreamy. “They produced such beautiful sarees. And they had such a large number for us to select from. We could almost wear a new one each day. Sadly here in Taxila, I hardly get new sarees to wear, let alone options to choose from.

  “It’s not the beauty of the fabric, but that of the woman inside it that matters, My Lady,” Radhagupta said, bowing courteously.

  A smile appeared on the Maharani’s face, which she hid almost immediately. Every woman likes a compliment about her beauty. Radhagupta thought, as he leaned back again in his chair.

  “This is actually Sushem’s work, gifting me sarees,” she said, putting the fabric down on a pile of others that Radhagupta had brought her, “but it is his father who is doing it instead.”

  “Samrat Bindusar thought you would like something that would remind you of the capital,” Radhagupta said.

  “Sushem hardly gifts me anything at all these days.” She complained, paying no heed to what Radhagupta had just said.

  “I am sure that Maharaja Sushem has hardly any time for himself, let alone for other things owing to the Yadnya.”

  “Oh damn the Ashwamedha.” She said, playing with her braid and looking to one side. The sunrays falling on her made her hair shine golden. “It has made my husband so busy! The Brahmins consume all his energies. Every day the same chanting and preparations and rituals! It was fun in the beginning, but I’m bored of it now!”

  “I have heard that the stallion is halfway on its journey now,” Radhagupta said. “Six months have passed since it was let loose.”

  “I don’t care!” She said. “I am just waiting for it to return!”

  Radhagupta smiled, but hid it quickly. The conversation was going exactly where he wanted it to go, without any effort from his side to steer it in that direction. “You are a very brave lady to say this.” He said, seriously.

  “What bravery!” She exclaimed. “I am just a jealous wife here, Prime Minister, for my husband is more interested in the stallion than me currently.” She joked, and laughed herself. The sight of her smile was mesmerizing.

  “My Lady, I don’t get it,” Radhagupta said, the seriousness on his face not moving an inch. “Why do you say that you long for the stallion to return?”

  “Because then Sushem will finally pay attention to me again.” She said, in a tone of explanation. “Once the damn horse is back, the Yadnya will finally be over and I’ll make sure he makes up to me for all the time that he has ignored me.”

  A talkative woman. Radhagupta thought. Beautiful, and talkative.

  “But when the horse returns, My Lady, you will become very busy indeed.” He said, his tone having an air of mystery.

  “Now it’s me who isn’t getting what you’re trying to say.” She said. The playing with the hair had stopped and her eyes had widened. She would listen to his every word now.

  “I had always wondered how the Maharanis of all the Maharajas who have performed this Yadnya allowed them to perform it,” Radhagupta said, making sure each word was slow and deep. “I had always thought that it was great tolerance on the part of the Maharanis, or rather than tolerance, sacrifice for the glory and prestige of their husbands. “

  “What do you mean?”

  “But now I get it; the Maharanis simply do not know the rituals of the Ashwamedha. They are simply kept in the dark.”

  “What are you trying to say, Prime Minister?” She had bent forward now, and her chin was upon her clasped hands as she looked into his eyes.

  “Tell me, My Lady,” Radhagupta said. “What do you know about the great Ashwamedha Yadnya?”

  “I know it is very boring.” She said.

  “Be more specific,” Radhagupta said.

  “A horse is caught and let loose.” She said, thoughtfully.

  “A stallion,” Radhagupta said. “More than twenty four years of age but less than a hundred.”

  “People go along with it to not let anyone catch it,” she said.

  “A hundred young men, all of noble bearing,” Radhagupta said.

  “The horse roams about for some days, here and there.”

  “For a period of twenty four full moon days,” Radhagupta said

  “And when the horse is roaming about, a long series of boring rituals are continuously performed,” Maharani Divija said, coming back to where she had begun.

  Radhagupta smiled. “And then what next?”

  “What next?” Her face was confused. “The horse comes back, and the Yadnya is complete.”

  “Not before more rituals are performed,” Radhagupta said. “Rituals that involve you.”

  “Involve me?” She was most interested now, her eyes wide.

  “Yes.”

  “What are these rituals?” She asked.

  “Hasn’t the Maharaja told you?”

  “No.”

  “Then I see no reason why I should.” Radhagupta got up suddenly. The effect on her was immediate.

  “Where are you going?” She asked.

  “I have given you your gifts, My Lady, now I see no reason to occupy your time further.” He had already crossed half of t
he room and walked over to the door. But she was quicker and blocked his way.

  Now standing up, Radhagupta could look at all of her, her wonderful figure adorned by the tight-fitting saree. She held both sides of the door, thrusting her bosom forward. “You are not leaving without telling me about the rituals.”

  “Why don’t you ask the priests governing the Yadnya?” Radhagupta said. “Or the Maharaja himself?”

  “I have asked him.” She said. “He told me I shouldn’t concern myself with what is a man’s work.”

  Radhagupta shrugged. “Then I don’t think I can tell you about them.”

  “Oh come on.” She said, her eyes seductively dilated. “Can’t you do this for me? After all, it is you who has turned on my interest.” She gave him a smile. Radhagupta smiled too. It was working. She was working her charms on him.

  “However much I don’t want to,” he said, “I can’t dishonor you now, can I? After you have asked me with such earnest.” He walked back to the chair and settled down in it. She sat back too, crossing her legs, giving him a peek of her calves.

  “Do you really want to know this, My Lady?” He asked, once they were seated.

  “Yes, Yes, Yes!” She said. “How many times should I tell you?”

  “I am thinking of how I should narrate it in tender words,” Radhagupta said, appearing thoughtful.

  “You are frankly testing my patience now!” She said.

  “When the horse returns,” Radhagupta said, “you as the chief queen, as the Maharani, will be the performer of most of the rituals.”

  “And they will be?”

  “You shall bathe it in water.”

  “That much I can do.” She smiled. “I am not afraid of getting my hands dirty.”

  “I am not finished.” Radhagupta said. “You shall have to anoint it with ghee.”

  “Frankly, Prime Minister, I don’t see why you were so hesitant to tell this.” She said

  “I have not come to that part yet.” Radhagupta said. “You must realize that this is a young horse, at the peak of his sexual life. And yet it has not been allowed to mate for one full year.”