Chankya's Chant (22 page)

‘Very often, one does not need to act, but simply give the impression that one is acting. Let Paurus make a speech against Gandhar. Let him cut off diplomatic ties with Takshila. Let him send a strongly-worded note of caution. In short, let him act as though he’s acting without really acting!’ said Chanakya, tossing a pebble into the mighty river.

Indradutt sighed. He knew that the clever fox was, as usual, on the mark. It would be better to let Gandhar keep the Macedonians out rather than pushing Ambhi into their arms. Gandhar would, quite unnecessarily, become the fortress from the safety of which the Macedonian soldiers would fight Kaikey. ‘I shall speak to Paurus about the implications, Vishnu, but don’t hold your breath. I know my king better than he knows himself!’

God was pleased. In this particular instance, God was Macedonian, and his name was Alexander. He didn’t look divine though. For one thing, he was a little too short to be God. His long, blond hair reaching down to his neck, his perfectly straight nose, prominent forehead, and noble protruding chin, however, more than compensated for his short stature. The celestial deity had raised a terrifying dust storm as his army ran over Syria, Egypt, Mesopotamia, Persia and Bactria. His mother, Olympias, on the night before the consummation of her marriage to King Philip of Macedonia, had dreamed that her womb had been struck by a thunderbolt. And the product of that mystical union between Olympias and Philip had produced a son who was no less than a thunderbolt.

The thunderbolt then had his cousin executed, two Macedonian princes murdered, his general poisoned, and his stepmother and her daughter burned alive in order to ensure his accession to the throne. The thunderbolt had then taken forty-two thousand men on a long trek to defeat the no-less-magnificent Darius III of Persia who had been forced to offer his own daughter as war repatriation to Alexander before the omnipotent godling marched into Persepolis and declared himself
shahenshah
—the king of kings—having crucified all captured men of military age and having sold their women and children into slavery.

The king of kings was copulating with his latest wife, Roxana, a stunning Uzbek princess, a change in diet from his usual menu of young men, when the thought of invading Bharat crossed his mind. He decided that Ambhi was the key.

The thousands of horsemen galloping through the dusty fields was an awe-inspiring sight. The
chaturangbala
— the four-limbed army of Kaikey—was formidable, but this one-limbed monster was even more terrifying. In usual military combat, the four limbs of the army consisted of the infantry, cavalry, elephants and chariots.

However, to capitalise on the elements of speed and surprise, Kaikey had decided to use only cavalry to pulverize Gandhar into submission.

Inside the Jalakrida of Mainika, lay a comatose commander-in-chief. He had been delicately bathed, erotically massaged, and tenderly fed by the seductive Mainika. As he fell into a gentle and peaceful slumber, she lit the cannabis incense near the bed in her boudoir and left the room briskly, locking the door behind her. He would be out like an oil-starved lamp for several hours.

The alarm had been sounded and Takshila’s gate pulleys were being overworked to shut the monster barriers, but it was too late. Kaikey horsemen poured into Takshila, surrounded the local garrison, rode up to Gandharraj’s palace and blocked ingress and egress. Gandhar’s royal family sat in their gilded cage, prisoners of Kaikey’s cavalry. Gandhar’s commander-in-chief lay unconscious in the bedchamber of Gandhar’s most expensive whore, as the citadel of Takshila capitulated to the sudden influx of hordes of ferocious riders.

Inside the palace, the old king Gandharraj received a message. The prime minister of King Paurus, Indradutt, wished to pay his respects whenever Gandharraj was willing to spare his time. Spare his time! The bastard was being sarcastic. He had absolutely nothing to do with his time—his palace was under siege!

‘Bring the prime minister to the council hall. I shall meet him there shortly,’ said the weak and exhausted emperor to the messenger as he was helped to his feet by his attendants.
O my imprudent son Ambhi, I had always warned you about your foolish incursions into Kaikey. The result is plain to see,
thought the monarch as he allowed his servants to cover him with his silk stole and adorn him with his thirty-three-carat diamond-studded amulets in preparation for the meeting with the emissary of Paurus.

Indradutt bowed down low before Gandharraj and began, ‘O Mighty Emperor, Lord and Master of the valley of Gandhar, Benefactor of Takshila, O Benevolent Father of the citizens of Gandhar, O Wise, Learned, Brave—’

Gandharraj interrupted him mid-sentence. ‘It is kind of you to accord me this courtesy, Indradutt, but the truth is that you’re the victor, and I the vanquished,’ said the greybeard motioning for his subjugator to sit down. Indradutt did not instal himself on the chair offered to him. Instead, as a gesture of respect towards the aged monarch, he sat down cross-legged on the floor next to his feet.

‘Why are you being so respectful to me?’ asked Gandharraj, ‘I am your prisoner and have been defeated in one fatal swoop.’

‘Gandharraj, the kingdom of Kaikey has always held you in high regard. Our king, Paurus, has always spoken about you with affection and respect. He knows that you’re wise, just and honest. The decision to attack your kingdom was a very difficult one, but we were left with little alternative. Your son, Ambhi, has been sending disguised militia and mercenaries to Kaikey to stir up trouble along the border areas. We tried our best to ignore minor skirmishes, but the unprovoked aggression remained undiminished,’ explained Indradutt to the tired and venerable sovereign.

‘I understand your predicament, Indradutt. I am willing to do everything that is within the realm of my earthly powers to rein in Ambhi, but he’s foolhardy and reckless. Ask Paurus to forgive him, for me,’ pleaded Gandharraj.

Indradutt hesitated before he spoke. ‘O sagacious King, please do not embarrass me. I’m your humble servant and my own master, Paurus, has been clear that his difficulties do not lie with you but with Ambhi. He’s also worried that your son has been secretly negotiating a treaty with Alexander. If Gandhar allows Alexander passage to Bharat, then all our kingdoms shall be at risk,’ he said.

‘That’s impossible! Even Ambhi knows that he does not have the authority to enter into an accord with anyone without my seal of approval,’ asserted Gandharraj, more hopeful than convinced.

‘How do I convince you of Ambhi’s actions, maharaj?’ wondered Indradutt. Without waiting for an answer to the rhetorical question he shouted ‘Abhaya! Please come within.’

Within moments the intelligence operative who had been having late night consultations with Mainika at her pleasure pool walked in. He folded his hands in a gesture of greeting to both men but remained silent as he stood awaiting further instructions from Indradutt.

‘Abhaya, have your men been following Crown Prince Ambhi?’ asked Indradutt, almost in courtroom fashion.

‘Yes, my lord,’ replied Abhaya.

‘And has the prince remained under your observation for all fifteen muhurtas of the day and all fifteen muhurtas of the night?’

‘Yes, my lord. He has never been out of our sight.’

‘Has the prince remained in Takshila for every single day of the last
shuklapaksha
?’

‘No, my lord. He went hunting and crossed over into Kamboja on the second day of shuklapaksha.’

‘When the prince crossed into Kamboja, did he camp there?’

‘Yes, my lord. He remained in his Kamboja camp for three days and three nights.’

‘Did any special guests drop in to meet the prince?’

‘Only one, my lord. Seleucus dropped in and spent a few hours with him.’

‘Seleucus, the trusted general of Alexander?’

‘Yes, my lord. The Macedonian insignia on the horses seemed to indicate as much.’

‘And did your agent hear what was discussed?’

‘No. But Seleucus’ secretary did step out of the meeting tent to arrange for hot wax and the general’s signet ring.’

‘So it would seem that this was certainly not a friendly hunting expedition, unless it’s now fashionable to brand one’s hunting trophies with wax seals,’ commented Indradutt caustically as he observed Gandharraj’s worried expression. ‘Thank you, Abhaya, you may leave,’ said Indradutt.

‘Alas! What has my foolish son done? How shall I repair the damage, Indradutt?’ asked Gandharraj as Abhaya left.

Indradutt had no words to offer. He knew that Chanakya had been right. Paurus had achieved absolutely nothing by attacking Gandhar except for propelling Ambhi into Alexander’s arms.

The figure was clad in loose black pyjamas and a black cotton vest. A black mask was tied around the lower half of his face, leaving only his head and eyes uncovered. A long jute rope was wound around his waist. His face and hands were coated in soot so that any exposed flesh would blend in with the dark night. To one side of his waist hung a small dagger and on the other side a well-polished bamboo tube resembling a flute. He was barefoot and his feet made no sound as he gently trod the cool and well-worn stone slabs along the palace corridor. Some minutes later, he stopped by a window, unwound the rope, tied it firmly to one of the pillars nearby, and threw the remaining cord outside. He grasped the rope firmly and began lowering himself to the window ledge that was a floor below. Having reached it, he swung inside, landed inside the unending passage, balanced himself and looked in the distance at the ornate door that led to the royal bedchamber.

Two guards stood outside holding lances that crossed one another across the doorway. A row of pillars ran along the length of the hallway, which led to the door of the chamber and the guards outside it. The black figure skipped lightly towards his goal using the massive columns to hide himself from the vision of the guards. He measured his final steps carefully to satisfy himself that he was within shooting distance and knelt down behind one of the pillars. He unclasped the flute-like tube from his waist and sucked in a long deep breath.

Bringing the tube to his lips he aimed the flute at the more alert of the two sentinels and blew hard into the pipe. An exceedingly small dart, coated with the juice of aconite tubers and snake venom, hurtled through the dark alley until it punctured a microscopic hole in the sentry’s neck. It was no more than a mosquito sting but produced a devastating effect. Before he could collapse to the floor and alert his companion, another little pea-sized spur left the peashooter’s aperture and caught the second guard between his eyes. Both men collapsed in a matter of seconds, the sound of their spears falling to the floor reverberating eerily in the sombre corridor.