Chankya's Chant (23 page)

He leapt up, jogged over to the two dead bodyguards and dropped down on his knees to efficiently check their carotid arteries. Having satisfied himself that they were well and truly dead, he unclasped his dagger and cautiously opened the door. The room was silent except for arrhythmic snores emerging from the silhouette that lay on the giant bed towards the eastern end. The room was dim, the only light being that of a single oil lamp near the entrance door.

The assassin advanced towards the snoring individual until he reached the bed. He looked down at his father’s face, raised his knife and with one fatal blow, plunged it into Gandharraj’s chest. Arterial blood squirted in arcs as the old king’s left ventricle contracted, leaving the bed drenched in wine-coloured gore. The sovereign’s eyes opened for a fraction of a second as the image of his murdering heir was captured on his retinas. His terror-struck expression soon gave way to a look of relief as he realised that his humiliating life was finally over.

‘I had warned you, Indradutt,’ said Chanakya as he watched Chandragupta wrestle Sinharan inside the mud
akhada
—the wrestling arena on the Takshila campus. Both wrestlers were wearing muddy loincloths and were slick from a mixture of sesame oil and sweat. Their methodology was a freestyle of all four types of wrestling prevailing in Bharat,
Hanumanti, Jambuvanti
,
Jarasandhi
and
Bhimaseni
. But this was no mild wrestling match. Just as one contestant would succeed in holding down his adversary, a team of monstrous-looking men wielding batons would attack him. This would give his opponent a chance to recover while his rival fought off the attacking horde.

Indradutt winced at the remark. ‘I know, I know. You have the luxury of saying “I told you so” but Paurus gave me no alternative. I withdrew Kaikey’s troops from Gandhar upon Gandharraj’s assurance that he would rein in his son. How was one to know that the wretch Ambhi would decide to murder his own father! We’ve created a mess. Now Ambhi is free to pursue his treaty with Alexander. They say he looks like a god!’ he complained as he looked at Chandragupta pinning down Sinharan in a submission hold.

Over the years, Chandragupta had grown into a fine specimen of masculinity. Broad shoulders, muscular arms and wrestler’s thighs contrasted with his gentle face, aristocratic nose and thick, curly, dark hair that fell in cascading waves to his shoulders. His fitness instructors had trained him in wrestling, archery, horseback riding and swordsmanship.

His daily regimen was more difficult than that of the most punishing and austere monkhood. In a day and night of thirty muhurtas, the first two muhurtas after sunrise were used for exercise, physical and combat training. The next two muhurtas were for mastering kingly subjects—economics, politics, history and geography. The ensuing two muhurtas were allocated for his personal time—bathing and early lunch. The two muhurtas following noon were used for studying other subjects—mathematics, general science and languages. The succeeding two muhurtas were designated for equestrian activities including horse-mounted combat. The two muhurtas before sunset were reserved for spiritual discourse and learning the ancient scriptures followed by a two-muhurta break for bathing and dinner. The two muhurtas after dinnertime were for homework and revision of everything learned during the day. The final two muhurtas were used for meditation and contemplation before he took his forty winks and the cycle started all over again at dawn.

‘I am not worried, Indradutt. And if I were you, the best strategy would be to do absolutely nothing,’ said Chanakya looking over at other wrestlers wearing
garnals
—circular stone neck weights—and practising their squats.

‘I don’t understand you, Vishnu. You lecture us on the perils facing our nation from the Macedonian war machine and when they succeed in getting their foot into the door you preach masterly inactivity!’ burst out Indradutt, ignoring the three wrestlers who were performing
dhakulis
—twisting rotations—with maces in hand.

‘Mehir! Come over here. Please explain to Indraduttji why I am so confident,’ called out Chanakya, motioning his Persian student over. Mehir, also dripping with sweat, dropped his weights and walked over to them. He folded his hands in a gesture of greeting to both men.

‘Tell the prime minister of Kaikey why I recommend that he do nothing,’ said Chanakya.

‘Upon the advice of the acharya, I have cultivated a network of Persian merchants who keep me informed regarding the developments in Persepolis. I had left the great city just after it had fallen to the Macedonians and it seems that a few months later there was a great drunken orgy hosted by Alexander at the palace, which set off a massive fire. Most of Persepolis including its wondrous treasures was destroyed. The thrust provided to Alexander’s war efforts by Persia’s wealth has been neutralised,’ explained Mehir.

‘What it means, Indradutt, is that Alexander’s progress will be slow. Most of his troops are mercenaries. If they are not paid, they will not fight. It will be difficult for Alexander to defeat the mighty army of Kaikey in his diminished capacity,’ said Chanakya, taking some sesame oil from a large earthen pot next to them and rubbing it into his dry elbows absentmindedly.

‘So what should I tell my king?’ asked Indradutt. ‘Tell him that he should sleep peacefully,’ said the ingenious Brahmin.

‘The burning down of Persepolis has not blunted the edge of Alexander’s sword, yet you asked me to lie to the prime minister of Kaikey. Why, acharya?’ asked Mehir as Indradutt left.

‘Mehir, I need you to think very carefully before answering the questions that I am about to ask you. Which is the strongest kingdom in Bharat?’

‘Magadha, without doubt.’

‘And who rules Magadha?’

‘Dhanananda.’

‘To wrest Magadha from Dhanananda, we shall need the help of the next most powerful kingdom. Which do you think that is?’

‘Kaikey.’

‘And who rules Kaikey?’

‘Paurus.’

‘But why will Paurus help us acquire Magadha if he doesn’t feel the need to? Under what circumstances would he feel obliged to throw in his lot with us?’

‘If he were under attack.’

‘And who is his sworn enemy?’

‘Ambhi, the king of Gandhar.’

‘And is Ambhi capable of taking on Paurus alone?’

‘Obviously not. His own capital was captured by Kaikey effortlessly!’

‘So how does one make Ambhi strong enough to attack Kaikey?’

‘Alexander!’

‘Precisely.’

‘But acharya, you said that the Macedonians are poison and that we need to ensure that this poison does not spread.’

‘We often use poisons in small quantities to treat ailments, don’t we? If the dosage is correctly calibrated, the very toxin that can kill becomes a saviour. We need to use the Macedonians in precisely the same way.’

‘If Alexander is friends with Ambhi and they jointly attack Paurus, there exists the possibility that Alexander may become emperor of all of Bharat!’

‘Once again, Mehir, I urge you to think this through very carefully before replying. Before planning a campaign in Bharat, which countries did Alexander conquer?’

‘Persia, Syria, Egypt, Assyria, Babylonia—’

‘Yes, yes, I know. But how many Alexanders are there? One? Two? Ten?’

‘Only one,’ said Mehir smiling.

‘Only one Alexander and tens of conquered territories. He will fight and move on. He cannot be in ten places at once!’

‘But his generals may remain. He may appoint governors.’

‘What was the size of Alexander’s army when he left on his military conquest?’

‘My sources say that he had around forty-two thousand troops when he left Macedonia.’

‘And have your sources told you how many men he currently has?’

‘Around the same.’

‘Strange. If he had left some of his own troops in Persia, Syria, Egypt, Assyria, Babylonia, Bactria, and other conquered territories, his present troop numbers should have been lower. What does this tell you?’

‘That he isn’t leaving behind large contingents to maintain control over conquered territories?’

‘And that he depends on local allies to protect his conquered interests.’

‘So we should sit back and allow Paurus to be defeated by the combined forces of Ambhi and Alexander, acharya? I would much rather die for my country.’

‘It’s foolish men who die for their country. The intelligent ones make others die for their country instead. Remember, he who plans and runs away, lives to fight another day. That’s not cowardice, it’s chess—and the board belongs to me! Alexander’s campaign will leave Paurus as well as Ambhi weak. Having weakened them he will appoint one of his generals—probably Seleucus— as his governor and move on. That shall be our moment. Chandragupta’s moment! Bharat’s moment!’

‘And we do nothing to prevent Paurus from losing?’

‘Battles are won or lost before they are ever fought. Paurus has already lost.’

‘And what do we do till then?’ asked Mehir, looking at his mentor intently.

‘We build our forces and wait—patiently.’

‘And Indradutt?’

‘I have already burnt that bridge by lying to him today.’

T
he bailiff was elocuting. ‘The sub-judicial district magistrate’s court of Kanpur is now in session. The honourable judge S. C. Pande presiding. Order and silence is commanded. God protect this honourable court!’

The honourable sub-judicial district magistrate S. C. Pande looked at the lawyer who stood before him. ‘Where’s your client?’ he asked. The lawyer looked around as though he expected to find his client under the desks of the courtroom. The magistrate sighed. He didn’t want to be here in court. He would have preferred to be in the hotel room on the outskirts of the city experiencing the pleasures of Hameed’s sublime body. A faint smile crossed his lips as he thought of him.

‘Sir, I don’t know. He had said that he would be here ten minutes before the appointed hour,’ explained the harried lawyer, breaking Mr Pande’s carnal reverie. ‘In that case, I’m issuing orders for his arrest. Bailiff, please issue an arrest warrant and see to it that Mr Ikram Shaikh is produced before me at the earliest.’