Prince of Patliputra: The Asoka Trilogy Book I

By Shreyas Bhave

Bharatvarsha, Land Of The Aryas: 272 BC

Bindusar, the second Samrat Chakravartin of all the Aryas, rules the Indian sub-continent from his capital, Patliputra. Fifty years previously, his father, Chandragupta Maurya, had laid the foundations of this vast Samrajya, guided by the famed Guru, Arya Chanakya. But the pinnacle of the Empire’s wealth and glory has now passed... As the Samrat’s health declines due to .a mysterious illness, problems and factions, in-fighting and rebellion, raise their heads across his realm. There is no clear successor as the ninety-nine sons of Bindusar vie to ascend the throne.
Bharatvarsha waits for a warrior-king to rise up and lead the Empire once again. Can young Prince Asoka, least favoured of Bindusar’s sons, take on his grandfather’s mantle? Can Radhagupta, a mere Councillor at Court, be the inspiration Chanakya was to his Emperor and his people?

Book I of the epic Asoka Trilogy revolves around the haunting question: Who will be the next Samrat of the revered land of the Aryas? The first book of this riveting narrative captures the decline of a golden age, the upsurge of greed and chaos, the dark aspirations of royal heirs, and the dramatic events in the remarkable life of a man of destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Aug 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9789352010837

Shreyas Bhave

SHREYAS BHAVE, an Electrical Engineer from VNIT Nagpur, is one of India’s youngest experts on railway electrification. He also administers an entrepreneurial YouTube channel at ‘Our First Million’. He also leads his rock music group ‘Shreyas and The Skinners’, who released their debut album Flux in 2021. Possessed by an abiding love of history, Shreyas was inspired to take on the challenge of writing a fictionalized account based on historical records supplemented by the rich folklore surrounding the legendary figure of Asoka. The trilogy was released to widespread acclaim and has been acquired for the screen. Prisoner Of Yakutsk, a modern-day thriller based on the mystery surrounding the disappearance of Netaji Subhash Bose, was published in 2019. The present book is the second in the trilogy based on the thrilling adventures of Chhatrapati Shivaji’s intelligenceduo, Bahirji-Naik (see Author’s Note at the end of the book). Shreyas enjoys song-writing, composing music, sketching and painting in watercolour. He plays the guitar and enjoys hiking up to the hill forts of Maharashtra, replete with their hoary history and ghosts from the past.Other books by Shreyas BhavePrince Of PatliputraStorm From TaxilaNemesis Of KalingaPrisoner Of Yakutsk

Book preview

PROLOGUE

THE NIGHT WAS BLACK and chilly but the two horsemen riding swiftly through the gloom, were unmindful of both the darkness and the cold. The dusty pass through the forest was lonely, beset with unknown terrors, yet they rode on without fear. Occasionally a wolf howled somewhere in the distance, breaking the constant chirping of crickets.

The riders galloped on, their long cloaks floating behind them like banners of war. Arriving at a fork in the road, they pulled up, their frothing horses whimpering uneasily.

We seem to be lost, brother! one of the duo observed, gazing at the diverging paths before them.

Not so! the other remarked, pointing tothe sky. The Master told us to keep the North Star in front of us, and we are doing exactly that.

The first rider gazed up at the starry sky. They all look the same to me, he complained.

But they are not, the other replied with conviction.

The stars change, brother, the first rider insisted.

But the North Star does not! He pointed to the path on their left and kicked his mountin to a trot. Remember, we are looking for a banyan tree, he said over his shoulder to his companion.

The way was little more than a bridle path and shrubs rubbed against their legs, reluctant to let them pass. The going was necessarily slow. Suddenly a massive banyan tree loomed ahead of them, its aerial roots dangling in the air beside its enormous trunk. In the eerie light it looked like some primodial creature, horrific and disfigured, standing against the dark starry sky.

What now? the first rider asked, bringing his horse to a halt.

Now we wait.

Wait by a banyan tree? his companion gasped. Have you not heard stories about them?

What stories? the other laughed. We are no longer children, brother, to be frightened by our nurses’ tales.

"But Rakshasas live in them, the first man whispered. Bramharakshasas!"

Then you must be most afraid! a sharp voice observed from behind them.

Both men turned. A man stood by the massive tree, covered from head to toe in a black cloak.

Master! The two young men bowed low over their horses’ necks.

The Master blessed them with upraised palms. Do not dismount, this has to be quick, he said.

We are here to do your bidding, Master, said the first rider.

You do this is for the Ancient Bramhinical Order, the Master announced, touching his hand to his forehead.

For the Order! the riders repeated.

You must not fail! the Master warned.

Trust us, we will not!

You must brutally kill your target – Asoka, Prince of Patliputra.

The Master’s voice was a sharp whisper. None but the three of them heard his dark words.

FIFTY YEARS EARLIER

Two men rode through a dark forest one night, coming to a stop under a Banyan tree.

A cloaked man approached them. What you do is for the Ancient Bramhinical Order, he said.

For the Order! the riders repeated.

"You must brutally kill your target –Chandragupta, Raja of Taxila,"the man whispered,

Only the three of them heard his dark words…

*****

1

TISSA:

CALM BEFORE THE STORM

TAXILA, 272 BC

The cold winds that blew over the dry swathes of the North-West that morning heralded the coming of winter; gusting fiercely over the craggy mountains and rustling the meagre leaves still left on the trees. The same chill wind tore through the curtains of the palanquin, waking Tissa from the sweet comfort of slumber. He opened his eyes lazily, rubbing them with both his small fists, and yawning.The seven-year-old stretched his arms wide. The wind ripped aside the curtains with small ceremony, smacking him in the face. Tissa shivered. Looking out, he was overcome by a sudden feeling of being lost. Where was he? It was the same feeling of disorientation he often felt after an untimely nap.Tissa could see two large horses riding beside the palanquin.

Quite a place you’ve chosen for this meeting, Minister!

Tissa immediately recognized the gruff voice of the man riding on the black horse as belonging to his brother Sushem.

"Maharaja, your approval is all we desire." Minister Hariharan, on a brown horse, bowed in mock humility.

The sun was almost up and yet the air felt so cold. Tissa longed for his bed back at the palace, and the warm blankets made from the fur of mountain bears. Tissa had been happy when, a few hours ago, Sushem had woken him in the dark hours before dawn and asked him to accompany him on a trip. Tissa had instantly agreed because it meant he would miss his boring archery lesson. But now, as he sat shivering in the cold, Tissa began to regret his decision.

Maharaja Sushem laughed loudly. There was mockery in his brother’s laugh, Tissa realized. It was how Sushem laughed when he was angry.

Hariharan, you are a fool! Sushem scoffed. You mistake; I do not approve but mock!

"You do not like my choice of place, Maharaja?" Hariharan was worried now, Tissa was sure. His brother’s temper was very volatile.

I do not! Tissa heard the pitch of his brother’s voice rise. Why have I made you Prime Minister, Hariharan, when you lack the sense of a child?

Tissa flinched and his head hit the side of the palanquin, making both men turn towards him.

So you are awake, little brother, Sushem said. I had begun to think that you would sleep the whole time and then the purpose of bringing you here with me would be completely lost.

Tissa pulled aside the flapping curtain. I am sorry, brother, he said meekly.

But Sushem was smiling. Don’t worry, he said, as extending his hand. Do you want to ride a horse now that you are awake?

Tissa nodded. Minister Hariharan bent a little from his horse and picked the slight boy up with both hands and placed him behind his brother on the black horse. The horse whimpered asTissa’s hands grabbed the saddle to maintain his precarious balance.

Don’t grab the horse, hold me, Sushem instructed.

Tissa did as he was told and immediately felt safe and comfortable. He looked about him.There were so many mounted men around them – men in armour and helmets, armed with spears and swords. He knew the men formed his brother’s personal bodyguard. Tissa began to count them but stopped when he reached thirty – it was as far as the royal Guru had taught him. He knew the bodyguard accompanied Sushem, Maharaja of Taxila, wherever he went but Tissa wondered why he had been brought along that morning, and where they were going.

"What exactly do you object to in my choice of meeting place, Maharaja?" Hariharan asked as they rode along.

Sushem looked at him haughtily. Do I sense resentment in your voice, Minister, or just plain arrogance?

"Merely a desire to understand my mistake, Maharaja," Hariharan promptly replied.

Sushem flicked the reins of his horse carelessly. Look at all those towering cliffs, he said, pointing to the mountain they were riding towards, with its narrow pass lined by tall cliffs. A perfect ambush spot!

"Maharaja, we are just going to meet a weapons dealer, Hariharan laughed. I don’t think he is going to ambush his customers!"

Tissa could feel Sushem’s belly tighten beneath his hands. His brother’s voice was raised as he said, he is not just any weapons dealer! This is Kanakdatta the Buddhist. Have you not heard the rumours about him?

Hariharan’s horse suddenly neighed and he pulled on the reins to control his mount. "I have indeed heard the rumours, Maharaja."

Then you know he sold weapons to Avarak, the One-Eyed, Sushem retorted angrily.

Tissa’s stomach formed a knot at the mention of the one-eyed man. Back at the palace, his nursemaid often told him horror stories of rakshasas, and almost all of them were evil and one-eyed. He tugged at his brother’s jacket, but Sushem did not notice.

I would have thought that you would approach the man who sold weapons to our sworn enemy with some caution!

Hariharan bowed a little, acknowledging the rebuke. It is true that he is thought to have sold weapons to Avarak and his band of rebels, but it could be just a rumour.

Maybe, Minister, or maybe not, Sushem snapped. Tissa pulled on his brother’s jacket more firmly. This time Sushem noticed. Something bothering you, little brother? he asked, throwing a glance behind him.

Can you talk about something else? Tissa pleaded. All this talk of one-eyed Avarak and his band of rebels from the south was frightening.

Sushem shrugged and looked ahead again. You have to learn to be brave, brother. If you ask me, I consider men with two eyes more dangerous than some old man with only one eye.

Old Maya says that he sends shadows to kill people, Tissa said with a shudder, remembering his nurse’s lurid tales.

I have no doubt that Old Maya has a vivid imagination, Sushem commented dryly. "But if truth be told, brother, Avarak is just a man. Like us. Quite old too… and with only one eye. Be brave, brother! Soon you will grow up and be a Raja; you must not be afraid of anything. Tissa shivered again at the mention of the one eye, then thought of something else. But Old Maya says I have ninety-nine brothers. Will any Rajya be left for me when there are so many who are older?"

Sushem laughed in genuine amusement. My dear brother, he said, still chuckling, "our father, Samrat Bindusar, is the second Samrat Chakravartin of the whole of Bharatvarsha. His realm spreads from here in Taxila to the great city of Patliputra in the east, and to the mountainous city of Suvarnagiri in the south. Believe me Tissa, there are enough Rajyas for even a thousand brothers!"

"And Avanti, where Avarak lives, is one of the Rajyas, correct?" Tissa asked. His knowledge of geography was limited to the names of the cities he had heard mentioned again and again at the palace.

It is indeed where Avarak the One-Eyed lives. Sushem smiled when Tissa did not clutch him tightly at the mention of the one eyed one. "Actually, Avanti is bigger than a Rajya. It is a Maharajya, like our Taxila."

And it belongs to Avarak?

No! His brother’s suddenly raised voice shocked Tissa. Avanti belongs to father! Sushem stated angrily, without looking back. That rebel has usurped it! But not for long…. Sushem began to laugh. Not for long…

Is that why we are going to buy weapons? Tissa asked, impressed to be part of such a manly mission.

The whole thing had begun to make sense to him. So that we can ride south and teach the rebel a lesson?

Sushem laughed again, his mood lightening. No, dear brother, we are buying weapons for a different purpose entirely.

Which is? Tissa asked, disappointed that his deduction had been incorrect.

You will soon see.

They were silent as the horses laboriously climbed the mountain. Tissa could hear the clomping of hooves and neighing and whimpering from the line of horses. Finally they arrived at the pass. Rocky cliffs rose high on both sides, leaving only a narrow passage to enter or exit through.

He is late! Sushem remarked in annoyance as he dismounted. Picking Tissa up, he placed him on the ground.

That is not a wise thing to do, Hariharan said as he too, climbed off his horse. The other soldiers moved to form a protective ring around them.

Ask some of the men to climb up those cliffs and keep watch, Sushem ordered. Hariharan immediately complied.

Tissa watched attentively as a few men climbed up the rocky incline, spears in hand.

Sushem bent down and ruffled his brother’s hair. Watch us closely, brother, he told him. "You will be a Raja too and must learn how older men conduct business. That is why I have brought you here with me. So you can watch and learn." He stood up and went off to stand beside Hariharan, who was watching the pass.

Tissa stayed by the horse but soon became bored by the lack of activity. Sushem and Hariharan were talking and the soldiers stood around, waiting. Tissa turned to the other side, to see if he could see Taxila, but he could not. The city lay hidden behind them, behind the hills over which they had come. As Tissa watched, he realized this was the farthest he had ever come from the palace. Sometimes he and his friends went to play in the river and in the farms outside the city, but never had he crossed the adjoining hills.

Tissa turned back when he heard a horn blow. He watched Hariharan move out of the protective ring of soldiers. He has come, he heard the Minister say. Tissa walked to the edge of the ring to get a better look. One of the soldiers, seeing him crane his neck, pulled him onto his horse, so Tissa could get a better view.

Three men emerged through the pass. The leader sat on a horse even bigger than the ones they had ridden here on. As the men drew closer, Tissa realized that the big horse was necessary because the man in the lead was immensely fat. The other two rode ponies, pulling wooden carriages.

Kanakdatta, the Buddhist! Tissa heard Sushem greet the corpulent man. I trust you kept Avarak waiting too, when you sold him weapons?

Ah…rumours… Kanakdatta murmured, preparing to dismount. The robe he wore was exquisite and sparkled in the early morning sun. Tissa was sure he would fall off his horse, but he dismounted in one surprisingly swift motion and bowed before the Maharaja.

There was a touch of admiration in Sushem’s gaze as he watched Kanakdatta movements as he stood upright again.

Hariharan immediately placed himself between the Maharaja and Kanakdatta, saying, Let me check you for weapons.

Oh I carry many weapons, the fat man chuckled. "In fact, I carry a sample of each masterpiece I can offer the Maharaja from my caravan." The words were accompanied by another swift bow and smile.

Hariharan frowned. I meant on your person.

Oh relax, Minister, Sushem said, walking forward. A weapons dealer would hardly kill his customers, would he?

Hariharan did not look pleased at having his own words used against him but he stood to one side, folding his arms across his chest. Kanakdatta looked around, first at the bodyguards and then at the men up on the cliffs. "You brought quite an entourage, Maharaja," he remarked.

"I am Maharaja of Taxila and Governor of the North-West, deputing for my father, Bindusar, Samrat of Bharatvarsha, Sushem reminded him imperiously. Did you expect a humble caravan?"

Certainly, certainly…Kanakdatta murmured smiling, as the two ponies with their carts stopped a few paces behind them. Then he looked directly at Tissa on the horse. Who’s the lad? he asked.

My brother, Vittasoka, Sushem replied.He is my ward.

Tissa took a moment to register his true name. Nobody ever called him that. He was simply Tissa to all, his real name forgotten.

A sweet child, Kanakdatta said, giving him a measured smile.

Tissa felt a shiver run down his spine. ‘This fat man is evil’ was the immediate thought that crept into his mind. But Sushem was looking back at him and calling him forward. The soldier, on whose horse he was sitting, picked him up by the waist and placed him on the ground. Tissa walked slowly towards the three men. On the cliffs he could see their soldiers, standing with spears raised, looking at them unblinking. ‘It’s safe!’ Tissa told himself as he went to stand beside his brother. Sushem put a hand on his head.

Kanakdatta went down on one knee so that he was on a level with Tissa, and then asked, How old are you, Prince?

Seven, Tissa said stiffly, keeping his distance.

Perfect! Kanakdatta smiled. He rose, once again surprising the others with his agility, and went over to the carts. He spoke to the two men in a foreign language and they began rifling through the contents of one of the carts. Tissa could hear the sound of metal on metal. He saw the men lift blades and spears before pulling out a leather scabbard which they handed to Kanakdatta.

I got my first sword when I was seven, Kanakdatta said smiling, as he took the sword and handed it to Hariharan, who received it, careful not to touch the man. As the Buddha told us, Kanakdatta recalled, smiling benignly, "every business transaction should begin with a gift, and so here is my gift to your brother, Maharaja."

Tissa understood the fat man could not be touched because he was a Buddhist. His brother had told him about these non-believers who followed the new way. He had been told him to hold them at a distance.

Sushem took the scabbard from Hariharan and pulled out the blade. It was small, almost like an elongated knife in his hands. This is fine work, Sushem remarked appreciatively and pushed it back again. Do you like it, Tissa?

Tissa felt his hands shaking as he took the sword. It was heavier than he had expected and he had to use both hands to pick it up. He felt the well worn leather. I like it, he said, looking up.

Kanakdatta nodded and said, Now to business.

Tissa pushed the leather scabbard with its sword into his belt, pushing hard. He thought of going back to the horse, but Sushem had asked him to observe them. Perhaps he wanted him to listen.

Kanakdatta walked up to his cart and pulled out various blades, one by one. Hariharan and Sushem went to stand opposite him.

It’s a pity we were unable to welcome you into the city, Sushem said.

That is not a problem, Kanakdatta said, still rifling through the weapons. I understand.

"There is really no way I can let a man of your, ah…beliefs, enter the city with the Ashwamedha Yadnya going on," Sushem explained.

"As I said Maharaja, it is not a problem."

"If it was any other yadnya, I would have made an exception for you, Sushem told the trader, playing with his beard. But you must understand, it’s the Ashwamedha, the holiest of all yadnyas – the horse sacrifice."

I do understand. Kanakdatta looked up. He was holding a curved blade in his hand. "And I am glad about the yadnya, Maharaja, otherwise why would you need these?" He smiled as he waved the curved blade in the air.

Indeed.

Kanakdatta displayed the curved blade. This one is perfect for horsemen, he told them. Its curvature makes movement through the air easier while riding at speed.

Sushem frowned. I’m afraid that the nobles who will use them will find them somewhat…

Savage? Kanakdatta asked with a laugh. Of course…of course…that is why I have also brought this. He brought out a long great sword, so long that it crossed the whole length of the cart.

And how are horsemen to use these? Sushem looked at the fat man in perplexity.

Won’t there be foot soldiers?

But the foot soldiers are not noble.

Kanakdatta went through the contents of the cart again and pulled out another sword, half the size of the one he had pulled out earlier. A broadsword, single handed, with two edges, he said, handing it over to Hariharan. Forged from pure bronze without any impurities!

Hariharan inspected the blade by running his finger over it before handing it to Sushem.

This is good, Sushem commented. Tell me, Buddhist, where do you get your stock? Who are the master craftsmen who make these fine pieces?

A covert smile touched Kanakdatta’s lips. "If I reveal that, the Maharaja is resourceful enough to go directly to the source!"

Sushem laughed, acknowledging the truth of what the man had said. He handed the broadsword back to Hariharan. We’ll take the numbers we need of this one, he said. The nobles will like them. For the foot soldiers, we’ll need spears.

Tissa’s mind drifted away from the scene as they began inspecting spears of various lengths and shapes. He looked towards the soldiers atop the cliffs. But his mind was drawn back to the discussion when he heard Hairharan say, The bows and arrows we prefer to buy from local craftsmen.

Yes, I like to be sure of my bows and arrows, Sushem agreed. Any fool can forge a broadsword with some practice, but to make bows, now that takes a real artist.

Tissa listened intently. Kanakdatta turned to the next cart, bigger than the first one, and started rummaging through it. Tissa had little interest in swords and spears, but bows were something he knew about. His archery teacher made him practice at dawn every day and Tissa had learnt to hit the arrow quite close to the bulls eye.

You belittle my products without trying them first, Kanakdatta said, holding a wooden longbow that was almost as tall as him.

"Kanakdatta, it is just that I do not wish to take a chance, with such an important yadnya being conducted."

"The Ashwamedha is indeed the most important yadnya, Maharaja!" Kanakdatta murmured as he lifted the tall bow from the ground with one hand.

Tissa gasped! Having been required to lift a bow every morning, he knew they weighed far more than their slim and curved frame suggested. But Kanakdatta had lifted it gracefully with one hand!

And I can say you will be taking much more of a chance with the quality of the bows and arrows you buy from Taxila!

Hariharan looked at the bow intently. It does look good, he agreed, somewhat grudgingly. But who knows how you Buddhists handle them in transporting them?

Kanakdatta’s face changed. Tissa was sure he had seen a frown before the weapon vendor’s went back to a smile.

I can prove that my bows are the best.

And how will you do that? Hariharan asked, his bold voice laced with sarcasm.

By demonstrating the bow’s performance… Kanakdatta set the tall weapon down on the ground.

Sushem glanced at his soldiers and then shook his head. I have not brought any archers with me. Who will use the bow?

"I will! Kanakdatta once again lifted the bow and looked towards his two men, who immediately ran to bring him a quiver of arrows from the caravan. He took the leather pouch and slung it across his chest onto his back. Drawing an arrow with one smooth motion, he placed it in on the taut bowstring. Blindfold me!" he said.

Hariharan and Sushem watched intently as a blindfold was tied over the corpulent man’s eyes.

What are you doing? Hariharan asked loudly.

In response, Kanakdatta turned and began to walk away from them towards the other end of the pass. Holding the bow in one hand, he stopped when he had walked a hundred paces. Now he looked much smaller. Tissa could sense the tension in the air as Kanakdatta turned. He could hear his own heart thumping loudly in his chest.

Sushem was intrigued. What are you going to hit with the arrow? he asked. You are blindfolded for gods’ sake!

Before Tissa could realize what had happened, Kanakdatta had lifted his bow and pulled the string. The arrow launched forth, travelling so fast that no one had time to move. It moved straight towards Sushem and slammed into the iron helmet he wore. There was a loud metallic clang as the arrow pushed back the helmet, which landed on the ground.

Tissa watched the surprise on Sushem’s face. It took a moment for them all to register what had happened. Then Tissa’s heart began to hammer as he heard thirty swords pulled from their scabbards. Hariharan’s naked sword was pointed at Kanakdatta, who stood quietly, making no move to get another arrow from his quiver. He placed the bow on the ground and untied the blind fold.

Tissa looked back. The soldiers had their swords out, looking towards their Maharaja for an order. The soldiers on the cliffs had raised their spears and pointed them at Kanakdatta. Tissa felt overwhelming fear! He clutched one of Sushem’s hands with both his own. Tissa realized his brother’s hand was shaking.

What is the meaning of this, Buddhist? Hariharan yelled. "You’ll die for this Buddhist! You dare attack our Maharaja in our own land?"

Sheath your sword! Sushem commanded. Hariharan looked at him, confused. Sheath your swords for gods’ sake, Sushem said, folding his arms across his chest. The man was just trying to make a point.

Kanakdatta walked back towards them. No one had sheathed their swords. One of Kanakdatta’s men ran over to him and he handed over the bow and quiver.

"You are a Shabda Bhedi?" Sushem asked, taken aback, a slight tremor in his voice.

I am! Kanakdatta laughed. I can hit targets based on sound, which in this case was your voice. I apologize if I have frightened you. But I never intended to hit your flesh.

I was not afraid. But how do you do it?

It takes practice…and some talent, I suppose. Kanakdatta rubbed his knuckles. But neither is of any use without a perfectly crafted bow. That is my point."

"Many of our Gods are Shabda Bhedi," Sushem said thoughtfully.

Kanakdatta laughed heartily. Nevertheless, the Gods do seem to bestow talent on one who does not believe in them, it would appear.

Sushem looked around and realized that no one had sheathed their swords. He let go of Tissa’s hand and bent to pick up his helmet. Pulling out the embedded arrow, he put it back on his head. The soldiers sheathed their swords too.

Hariharan was the last one to sheath his. As Kanakdatta turned back to the carts, Hariharan leaned over and whispered to Sushem. He should have been killed for the insult. Tissa heard the words, as clear as the air.

Not before Tissa! Sushem growled back. Let us put it behind us.

So have I proved the worthiness of my bows? Kanakdatta asked eagerly.

Sushem turned to him. Indeed you have! We will buy from you.

The rest of the morning was spent in negotiating rates and barters. As the arms vendor finally prepared to leave, Sushem asked, What if you had hit me fatally, Buddhist? What then?Kanakdatta laughed and said, "Then you would have not bought my bows, Maharaja!"

Tissa never forgot those words. His heart beat fast as the fat man took his leave. It beat even faster when the man looked directly at him and waved goodbye. It was still thumping hard when Sushem ordered him back into the