“Arya Chanakya.” I said, sitting down.
“So Arya Chanakya,” Alexander said, “it seems like you have failed.”
“It most certainly appears so.” I said.
“Chanakya spent the whole of the last year in the east in the Nanda kingdom trying to bring an army against you.” Puru informed.
“That is fantastic.” Alexander said. “Please tell us about your journey, Chanakya. I am very interested in the Nanda Empire. I am about to invade it.”
General Coenus was trying to say something, but Alexander held his palm in the air to silence him.
“The Nanda Empire is very big.” I said. “Almost already as big as your own empire.”
“Good.” Alexander said. “I’ll get to double my empire after one or two battles.”
“I doubt so.” I said. “The Nandas are powerful Rajas. They are loved by their people and their army. Their army is very large. It is said they can field a hundred elephants in battle.”
“Porus, how many elephants were there in your army? “Alexander asked.
“Twenty.” Porus said, “And all were killed after you were done with them.”
“If our phalanx can take down twenty elephants, it can surely take down a hundred.” Alexander said.
“But Basileus,” Coenus said, “our lines were almost broken in that battle. We were only saved because of the timely cavalry attack from the enemy’s rear.”
Alexander gave Coenus an angry look.
“Also,” I said, “their armies are filled with numerous horses, fed on the Ganges delta.”
“Our phalanx shall defeat them too.” Alexander said.
“I doubt so.” I said. “The Nandas have studied your armies and they have found a weakness in it. They have kept their own infantry light and flexible while yours is heavy and static.”
“What next? “Alexander asked, folding his arms.
“Their armies are larger than yours. Also, their troops are fresh while yours are tired. They have the advantage of home ground, while yours are deep into enemy territory.”
“Enough.” Alexander stamped his fist on the table. The cutlery all around clattered. “If your Nandas are so powerful,” he said, “why haven’t they come to face us? Why are they hiding in their lands? What are they afraid of?”
“They are not afraid, Conqueror.” I smiled. “They are wise. They will let you come at them and then they shall defeat you. Once you are defeated, your whole empire is theirs for the taking.”
There were faint murmurings among his generals.
“Silence.” Alexander shouted. “If you want me to be defeated, why are you telling me all this?”
“Because,” I said, “it doesn’t matter if you know it or don’t. The Nandas are so powerful, you are bound to be defeated in any case.”
“I will prove you wrong.” Alexander said. “Tomorrow if my army crosses the Beas, it shall devastate everything between here and the Ganges.”
“If!” I simply said.
I could tell that Alexander was dumbfounded. I knew where he had gone in this head. My answer had been deliberate. I had found out about all of his history from Puru before this meeting. Puru had told me all that Alexander had told him, about his father, the Philip of Macedon. He had told of the time when his father had given a similar warning to the Spartans, and the Spartans had replied with that one word. If! And in the ensuing battle, his father had lost.
“That’s it!” Alexander declared, breaking from his trance. “We cross the river tomorrow.”
“No.” The General called Coenus said calmly.
“What?” Alexander stared at him.
“The army is not ready,” Coenus said.
“The army will be ready when I say it is ready,” Alexander said defiantly.
“No.” The General called Coenus said again.
“Everybody out,” Alexander ordered.
Puru took me by the arm and led me out of the tent along with all the other generals. Only Alexander and General Coenus were left sitting at the table.
“Never defy an order by me in the presence of outsiders.” I heard Alexander say.
“And never use that tone with me unless we are alone.” The General called Coenus said.
Radhagupta
Taxila, 270 BC
Radhagupta watched the big gates of Taxila open. He held little Vittasoka by the hand. It was early morning. It was time to leave.
His sister stood at the side with tears in her eyes. She bent down and put her arms on Vittasoka’s shoulders. “Be a good boy.” She said.
He just nodded. Then he burst out crying and embraced his mother.
When their carriage walked out, Vittasoka kept waving to his mother from the doors until she was out of sight.
“You should not cry,” Radhagupta told him, “you will soon become a Maharaja. Maharajas don’t cry.”
“I’ve seen Maharaja Sushem cry,” Vittasoka said. “If he can, so can I.”
“Why does Maharaja Sushem cry?” Radhagupta asked, intrigued.
“I don’t know,” Vittasoka said. “He just does.”
Radhagupta wiped the child’s tears. “But you won’t.” He said. “You have to become a better Maharaja than him.”
Their travel was slow, because days were short; winter had started to show its force. Soon they started travelling along the Ganges River.
Most of the time, young Tissa would be bored, so Radhagupta told him stories. Soon they were passing through the Panchal region.
“Is it true?” Tissa asked, “That there used to be many Rajas in the olden days?”
“Yes, it is indeed true,” Radhagupta said.
“It would have been fun then,” Tissa said, “so many people could have been Rajas.”
“Good for the Rajas, but bad for the country,” Radhagupta said. “These numerous Rajas, they kept fighting each other.”
“Why did they fight?” Tissa asked.
“Various reasons,” Radhagupta said, “some fought for land, some fought for women.”
“But why did the common people fight for reasons of the Rajas?” Tissa asked.
“Because they had been told it was their duty to,” Radhagupta said. “Though in the end, it was the common people who destroyed these Rajas.”
“But if there were many Rajas in the past,” Vittasoka asked, “how come there is only one now?”
“No, no! You are getting it all wrong.” Radhagupta said. “There still are many Rajas.”
“But brother Sushem tells me that our father is the only Raja of Bharath,” Vittasoka said, innocently.
“I am sure he has simplified matters for you,” Radhagupta said. “But let me tell you the actual thing. Your father is not a Raja,”
“Isn’t he?” Vittasoka asked, confused.
“Not at all,” Radhagupta said. “Instead, your father is a Samrat.”
“Now what is a Samrat?” Vittasoka asked eagerly.
“I’ll try to explain it to you in an easy way,” Radhaguptapta said, “A Samrat is a Maharaja of Maharajas.”
“And a Maharaja is Raja of Rajas?”
“Exactly,” Radhagupta smiled. The boy was catching on fast.
“So there are still many Rajas and Maharajas?” Tissa’s doubts didn’t seem to stop.
“Of course,” Radhagupta said. “Your brother Sushem is a Maharaja. There are many Rajas under him. Soon you shall be a Maharaja too. And your father is the Samrat.”
“And my grandfather was a Samrat too, before him?” Tissa asked.
“Indeed.” Radhagupta said. “Your grandfather was the great Samrat Chandragupta, Raja of Patliputra, Maharaja of Magadha, leader of all the Aryas and Samrat of the whole Bharathvarsha.”
“Was he the first Samrat?” Tissa asked, “brother Sushem told me he was.”
“He was the first of his name,” Radhagupta said. “But he wasn’t the first Samrat of the Bharathvarsha.”
“He wasn’t?” Vittasoka was confused again.
“A little,” Tissa said, “it is a very big grantha.”
“Then do you know who Jarasandha was?” Radhagupta asked.
“Yes I know,” Tissa said in excitement. “He was Maharaja of Magadha, just like my father.”
“Yes.” Radhagupta smiled again. The child had a good memory. “Jarasandha was the first one who tried to become Samrat of the Bharathvarsha.”
“But he failed, didn’t he?” Tissa said. “Bhima killed him.”
“Actually Lord Krishna had him killed,” Radhagupta said. “But yes, it was Bhima who id the actual job. But before that, Jarasandha had almost succeeded in his mission. It is said he had defeated and imprisoned a hundred Rajas.”
“So to become Samrat, one must imprison a hundred Rajas?” Tissa asked innocently.
“No, that is not the case,” Radhagupta said. “Your grandfather did it by allying with all the Rajas, while if you read the Mahabharata further, you shall find that Maharaja Yudishtir did it by conducting the Ashwamedha.”
“Oh!” Tissa’s eyes had lit up, “that is why brother Sushem is conducting the Ashwamedha too. Because he shall be Samrat after Father.”
“You have already started to think like a Maharaja,” Radhagupta winked.
The days of the travelling went by fast with Tissa beside him. The child’s doubts about history and the stories he wanted to hear passed most of their time. Radhagupta felt relaxed too, as he told the stories of the past to his nephew. It almost felt like they were going to the past, and the problems of their present didn’t exist at all.
He waited for Tissa to fall asleep before they stopped at the inn. Then he got off the carriage, and entered. “I come for the prince.” He said to the innkeeper who stood at the desk.
“It was about time someone did,” The innkeeper said. “The prince has a got quite a large tab on him.”
“Are you really going to ask for a prince’s tab?” One stern glance was all that was needed. The innkeeper was silenced. “What do you need, my Lord?” He asked.
“I need to speak to the prince,” Radhagupta said.
The innkeeper laughed. “I doubt you’ll be able to do that, Sire,” He said. “The prince will mostly be passed out in his room. He spent the last night like he spends them all, fucking the whores in the nearby whorehouse and then drinking a barrelful of liquor in the morning, due to which he passes out till the evening, only to wake up to repeat the cycle.”
“Just show me his room.” Radhagupta said, taking out a roll of parchment from his pouch. “I need to give him this.”
The innkeeper escorted him to a room on the top floor. “My best room!” He complained. “Stuck with a customer who never pays.”
Radhagupta waited till he was gone. Then he entered. The sight was just as the innkeeper had described. The prince was lying on his bed, the air around him carrying the sour smell of liquor.
Radhagupta looked at the roll of parchment in his hand. He moved his fingers over the unbroken royal seal on it. It was the sign of a snake, engraved in black lac. The sign of the Samrat!
He placed the roll by the prince’s bedside. He did not bother to open it. He already knew the contents by heart. He had written it himself before leaving for Taxila. And sealed it himself, with the seal of the Samrat. And he had done that same two things ninety eight times!
He did not wait for a moment longer. “We’ll travel the night.” He told the men of his caravan, and they all continued to move without stopping. No one in the caravan slept that night except little Tissa.
Soon they reached Patliputra. The captain of the city guards greeted him at the gates.
“Prime Minister.” He said. “Maurya princes have started arriving in the city. All of them carry letters with the seal of the Samrat.”
“And how is the Samrat?” Radhagupta asked.
“His condition has worsened tremendously. He doesn’t open his eyes. His heart still beats though.”
“That’s too sad,” Radhagupta said, “I will soon come to the palace.”
The captain went away. When he was away, Radhagupta smiled.
“Perfect.” He said.
Then he set out for the direction of East Hill.
How the mighty fall
Northwest, 50 years earlier
Chandragupta stood upon a huge rock that towered over the valley of Taxila, facing away from the city. His sword was unsheathed and in his hand. To his side stood Dileepa. Opposite him stood a huge army of people. They were all holding swords, spears and mallets. Chandragupta looked behind. There was now in front of him, the city of Taxila against the sky.
“My Brothers.” He said loudly. “There in the city sleeps Raja Ambhi. He is the one who has sold his Rajya to foreigners.”
Chandragupta shifted his stance and looked ahead. Dileepa and twenty men were moving away from the others, silently. They were the vanguard. They would hit the walls of the city first, and kill the guards on the walls.
“But there was just one mistake!” Chandragupta continued as all eyes focused on him. “This Rajya is not Raja Ambhi’s to sell.” He looked at the anger-filled faces of the men in front of him. “This Rajya belongs to you people.” His voice was loud and clear. “This Rajya belongs to you farmers, smiths, lumberjacks, hunters, artisans and soldiers!” The crowd listened with bated breath. “Raja Ambhi is the one who has forced your sons, brothers, fathers to fight against our own kinsmen, under the rule of foreigners.” Chandragupta shouted.
Almost a thousand men were looking at him, their eyes blazing with fury.
“Ambhi has lost respect of his own people,” Chandragupta shouted, “Why should he still remain Raja? Why should he still reside in this palace, why should he still control the holy city of Taxila?”
All of the men roared, raising their weapons to the sky. Some raised swords, some raised spears, some raise mallets.
“The post of Raja was given to him for a purpose.” Chandragupta said. “The purpose was to protect his people. But instead, he has oppressed them.”
“Aye,” shouted the men. Chandragupta looked proudly at them. They were his men. They were his army! It was almost time.
“The time has come,” he shouted, “to take back the city and the Rajya from this traitor.” His voice echoed all around. “The time has come to take it back for those, to whom it actually belongs.” He paused for dramatic effect.
“To the people!” He screamed at the top of his voice.
Then all the men screamed, mixing their voices with his. Their roars were so loud, that Chandragupta had to close his ears.
He turned around.
He could see the lights on the city walls. There was no doubt that the guards had heard them. He wanted them to. He wanted Ambhi to know what was coming. And while the guards would look fearfully at the hills to anticipate what was going to happen, he wanted Dileepa and the twenty to slip right by.
He searched for some of them, but they were nowhere to be seen. It was almost dark.
He stepped down from the rock and all his men followed him. He raised his sword, they raised their weapons. They ran towards the city walls together.
The banks of the Beas river were rife with Greeks. I stood in a corner, in the crowd looking ahead at the rock upon which Alexander was standing.
I watched him clear his throat gruffly. He had just finished making a speech, and its effect was not as per his expectations.
“What now?” Alexander said loudly, “will you cross this river behind me?” He pointed to the mighty flowing river behind him.
There were no cheers or shouts of any kind from the army, just complete silence.
Alexander stepped down from the rock and started walking towards the river. Everyone watched him.
He stepped into the river, right foot first. The water danced against his leather boots. He glanced back. Nobody was following him. His generals, Coenus included, stood at the side.
He put another foot forward and now stood with both legs in the cold water of the Beas.
They were almost at the city walls. The guards on it were firing arrows at them, but they were too few, and them too numerous.
Chandragupta ran as fast as he could to the walls and stood with his back against it. Now he was safe from the arrows but another danger would come. He looked ahead and watched closely.
Soon he saw the pots. Pots of hot oil that the soldiers on the wall would pour to burn those at the walls.
Not so easy to stop us!
“Look out!” Chandragupta called out to his men as they steered clear of the flow of the oil as one pot emptied over the walls.
He saw another pot come down. He saw some of his men hurt by it as he moved to the side.
Where was Dileepa? That was the moment he was needed. Where was he?
The cold water had entered his boots and was now flowing along his toes. He wiggled them, but they felt like rocks.
Alexander put another foot forward and was now up to his knee in the water. It flowed by him as froth formed around his legs. The sharp current of the river threw him off balance, so he took off his sword and used it for support.
He looked back. Still no one had moved. He felt angry. They were all eunuchs, all of them.
He took another step and now stood with water up to both his knees. It was freezing cold. He could feel his legs shake, but he clenched his teeth.
Another foot forward!
Dileepa had come, and Chandragupta saw bodies fall down from the walls to the ground. They were followed by ropes. Chandragupta took hold of one and shouted at the top of his voice.
Behind and besides him, all the other men climbed too. When he was at the top, Dileepa took his hand and brought him up.
They smiled at each other. They had done it! They were inside Taxila.
The water was upto his waist now, his body numb due to the cold.
At least have some shame now. He looked back. Yet nobody had taken a step to follow him. He felt the rage go to his head.
The Prince of Patliputra Page 26