A Tryst with Destiny

It is hard to express the joy of a difficult journey coming to an end, but that was the joy we felt when we arrived at Persia.

Our brethren walked many hundreds of leagues across desert, hills and barren lands through the Mesopotamian roadways leading up to the city of Babylon. A trade caravan assisted us for some time between Tyre and Babylon, but as soon as they felt the opportunity, they deceived us.

In these war torn lands, slavery is common. For shame, the Roman legionaries themselves indulge in this vile trade as elite customers of Mesopotamian and Armenian slaves. It was with sheer luck and quick thinking that we escaped the terrible predicament which slaves face in this land.

We had to walk for the better part of our journey on foot away from the trade roads. Hunger and heat were our constant companion. A month had passed as we ventured along the forbidding terrain till we reached the plains of Mesopotamia. The river Tigris, greeted us with her cool soothing hospitality. Babylon was only a short journey South from there. When we came to the shattered walls of Babylon, tragedy struck. Brother Mykanos, the youngest of our band succumbed to the hardships we faced. He now rested in the soil of Mesopotamia.

What was once the greatest city on earth, lay before us half a ruin. Its magnificent palaces long since destroyed, and its famed Hanging gardens, a wonder of the world, defiled and made into a Roman barracks. We rested in this city for a week, replenishing ourselves with the help of a cloth merchant and prepared for yet another difficult journey. The death of Mykanos had shaken us, but we reminded ourselves of the quest before us. We must journey to Palibothra, else wise Mykanos' death would have been in vain.

If the journey to Mesopotamia was difficult, the journey from Mesopotamia to Persepolis would seem almost impossible. We prayed to the heavens for good fortune before embarking on our journey over the deserts of Persia. We faced the barren hills of the Persian plateau with the strength of our faith, we faced the most perilous journey yet embarked, and faced certain death if it was not for the kindness of a wine merchant.

Several days had passed in our journey along the trans Persian road, while many traders passed through these harsh lands, few were willing to aid us in our journey. Fatigued and broken, we were on the verge of giving up hope of ever reaching our destination, that was until a wine trader found us. He took pity on us, and brought us to his manse. What fortune it was then, that his manse overlook the very city we had been so eagerly searching for.



Standing beyond the wineyards spread over the fertile valley before it, stood the city of Persepolis. two leagues across to the East and one league across from North to South. The palace of Persepolis towered over all other structures that we could see. Though it bore signs of destruction, it was a grand structure still. The city had granaries and barracks for its people and army as well, what stood out however, was the banner which fluttered over its houses.

The banner of three lions holding the wheel of justice, the banner of the empire of Gangaridae. A stern reminder of who ruled this land.

The next day while my compatriots rested under the hospitality of our host, I ventured out into the city. It was a larger city than Sparte, yet smaller than the cities of imperial Rome. From afar, Persepolis seemed grand and beautiful, but when near the most singularly striking feature of the city was its decay. Here was a city which had been both the centre of an empire as well as the victim of empires.

Centuries ago, a greek hero ventured to conquer the lands of the East. Alexander the great as he came to be known, had besieged the city of Persepolis and humbled its king Darius, the third of his name. The Greek army had occupied and burnt a part of the city leaving it a bloody mess. In later years Persepolis recovered but the scars left by Alexander would not heal, neither would her people let it heal. The ambitions of the Achamenid dynasty would never be fulfilled by their line, and so the task fell upon the shoulders of a hardy warlike people who led Persia's independence against Greek suzerainty. They were the Parthians led by the first Parthian king in the line of Azes.

Once again under their leadership, Persia found pride and a place of honor among the pantheon of empires only to lose it before the blades of Rome and the intrigues of India. At its peak the Parthian empire. Through the city one could find several Indian soldiers of dark skin who wore white turbans and light armor. They guarded the palace of Persia where the titular ruler, Tiridates sat, a hostage of India. A massive Persian army including two divisions of Persian spearmen trained in the Greek hoplite tradition, stood guard for the city. I would number this army no less than twenty thousand strong.

Though Persepolis did not have walls, strong palisades were erected for its defense over a deep ditch dug around the city's periphery. They were ready to defend their city. Still, a much larger army loomed above them, it was said that to the North lay a massive Indian army of nearly sixty thousand together with hundreds of war elephants. They guarded the gates of Aarachosia North of the horse lands.

The markets of Persepolis stood on the North East of the city, by the Indian gate. Over here, one can find merchants from Greece, Rome, India and even the fabled lands farther East of Chin. Most merchants I saw seemed to come from India who trade in ivory and metal instruments. I struck a conversation with a Greek merchant who explained to me, that In return from granting protection to King Tiridates, the Indian emperor has demanded all sources of Ivory and iron be sent to India as tribute. Indian merchants were quick to sense an opportunity and sold the coveted items at more than thrice the price in Persia. That money then was used for money changing and money lending operations impoverishing many Persians. India was hated by most if not all of Persians just as Greece may have been hated in the time of Alexander.

Before the sun had set I returned to my compatriots at the vineyard to tell them of what I saw. We spent the next day on meditation before departing for our next stop on the day after. A caravan would make its way North to Arachosia for trade, it was suggested to us that we join this caravan along with other traders and pilgrims.

We stayed on in Persepolis for another four days. On the fifth day, we departed for our next stop, the lands of Arachosia. We would travel North along the great trade road through the blood ridden horse lands North of Persia. Our host was generous enough to arrange for a place in the trade convoy to the town of Herat and gave us sufficient funds for the journey ahead.

The lands North of Persia are barren and hilly. These areas are sparsely populated and bear little greenery save for the occasional grasslands and pastures where shepherds dwell. We passed through a village which was abandoned, where it seemed that a battle had taken place. Our Persian friends traveling with us told us that this was a village burned down by the 'snatchers' of emperor Phraates. The village stands today only as a charred ruin silently reminding us of the tragedy brought upon it by the tussle of two ambitious rulers.

The caravan kept moving North. It would be near a hundred leagues to travel before we reach the town of Herat in Arachosia. We were now near the Horselands, where the tribe of Kambojas fought with the Parthians viciously for control over the able bodied horses in the region. It was once the scene of daily violent skirmishes, but with the fall of Phraates, the blades fell silent. The Parthians were cast out South to Persia and the tribe of the Kambojas ruled unimpeded. Though there is peace today, the scars of war still remain.

We crossed the horselands on the seventh day of our journey. The horselands were the beginning of the boundaries of the empire of Gangaridae. It would take our caravan another seven days before we reached the town of Herat in Arachosia.

Seven days passed through like the seven days before it, left and right we were greeted by the same sights. Of barren hills and hard brown rock that defines the landscape of Arachosia. Wild horses roamed these lands. As we paced on, the town emerged before us, standing atop a large hill.



Herat was a small town, but what it lacked in grandeur it compensated for in wealth. Herat straddled two worlds, the world of the East of the fabled lands of Chin and India and the world of the West with Rome towering over the Western world.

The lands of Arachosia is inhabited by the warlike tribe of Kamboja horsemen, this includes the lands around Herat. These people have yet to leave their nomadic ways, which is perhaps why hardly any Kamboja were seen in the town of Herat. The town had no more than a thousand inhabitants, almost all of them Indian bureaucrats or their families who were sent to govern this lands from the lands of Gangaridae. Those who were not officials were traders who came from the lands of India to trade with their kind from other far off empires.

Only a thousand called Herat their home, but over seven thousand called it their place of work. Within its stone walls Herat was a thriving center of world trade where exchange of art and ideas happened every day. Though trade flourished at Herat, there were other sources of wealth for this land, to the East of the town, was a hill of gems. In Greece, we hear tales of diamonds the size of a fist, and gems which could cast seven colors when held against the sun. All these tales had their source in the barren hills of Arachosia. Guarding over it was the vast army of Gangaridae.

The garrison was settled outside of the city beside the mines. They stood guard over the wealth of Arachosia standing strong against those who wished to plunder the riches of this city. We heard stories of a fierce tribe of horse lords who dwelled in cities of brick and sand to the North of Arachosia beyond the Oxus river. The Chin called them as Gui-Shang, but the people of India know them as the Kushan.

Many a times a band of warriors rode down South to conduct raids upon Herat. It was in response to these raids that the emperor of India sent the army of Gangaridae to stand guard upon Arachosia. Their mere presence struck fear into the enemies of India, and how not ? We chanced upon an armored war elephant making its way back to camp where the army was stationed. Its feet were iron, its hide was iron, its tusks made of sharp metal swords, all over its armor were vicious spikes. Merely looking at this weapon of death made the eyes bleed.

At Herat, we found an ashram founded by brothers of a Buddhist sangh struggling to establish themselves in this town. The emperors of India who came after the line of Diodotus, turned their backs on the followers of Budha, Since then the various sanghs of India have struggled to survive, many have shut their doors. It was heartening to see Buddhists struggling to survive in the land of the Buddha. Upon consulting with our brethren, we resolved to assist the sangh in any way we could.

Good writing!

Periplus of Indica - Taxiles

After many leagues of hard travel, we had at last come to India. Herat, the crossroads of the world stood like a sentinel over the hills of Arachosia, the gateway to India. We had stayed for two weeks along with our brothers at the Sangh of Herat.

The commitment and determination of the monks of this sangh are to unbelieve. Despite the threat of hunger and crushing poverty, the monks stand strong in their commitment to the faith. The people of this land adhere to an older faith, that of the Vedas and Manu. Aside from them, there are also a few who practice the faith of the Persian prophet Zoroaster. There is very little room for the faith of the Buddha in this land, yet our brothers preach to the people of Arachosia.

We assisted the sangh as far as we could with our own modest efforts, but we were reminded of our quest. We journeyed for near a thousand leagues from Tyre to Persepolis, and near four hundred leagues from Persepolis to Arachosia, only to journey leagues farther till we reach the sacred city of Palibothra. For their generous help we donated the hundred gold coins that we had been gifted at the vineyard Persepolis to establish the sangh at Herat. We wished them well and left West for the city of Taxiles.

Every child of Greece knows of Taxiles, and the great river Hydaspes that runs along its boundaries. It was here that a Greek army, with defeat in its heart marched under the glorious banner of Alexander the Great, to challenge the might of India. The Great conqueror who had humbled the pride of the Persians, smote the kingdom of Babylon, destroyed the pride of the Egyptians, chose to conquer Indica by crossing the Hydaspes. Standing before him, was the army of Sandrocottus Moria, and the city of Taxiles.

He who had known only conquest, whose armies trammeled the lands of the East, whose writ ran from the mediterranean sea to the sands of Persia, found his final defeat. In his final fight, the courageous and ambitious Alexander of Mykedon gave his most courageous fight. It was a solemn moment for a Greek when I realized that we walked the path that Alexander had walked over three centuries ago.

When leaving Herat, we joined with other pilgrims who were making their way to Palibothra. These pilgrims were Turkusha tribes whose ancestors had accepted the path of the Buddha under the guidance of the enlightened emperor Ashoka.They joined their strength to ours and a band of ten travelers had become twenty. We walked with them, ate with them and meditated with them. Buddha and his four fold path was the common thread that had held two alien people together in this journey. The journey of two hundred leagues between Arachosia and Taxiles took us ten days of hard travel.

We reached the pass of the Hydaspes on the ninth day from where we could see the eerie lights in the Eastern sky which told us where Taxiles was. The mystical temple of bramha and its eerie blue flame could be seen at a distance from the hills of the pass. It was then that we learnt of the truth in the tales of this temple and the city in which it stood. We were entering a land of fables where the fantastic was but a mundane every day truth.



Above a hill of the pass of the Hydaspes, we saw the city of Taxiles, resplendent in all her glory. Standing proudly on the banks of the fertile Hydaspes river, the temple of brahma stood out as the most intriguing and beautiful sight of them all. Beside this was yet another beautiful temple carved of wood and stone and decorated with gold. Thus it was, that India greeted this band of weary pilgrims.

Taxiles was the first large city of India that we encountered, though it was far less than what we had expected. The emperor Putovamus of the line of Satakarnos, who won the war of lions with Persia had tasked the cities of india to war. It is perhaps for that reason, that a city which the Seleucid emissary had spoken of as harboring one hundred thousand citizens now seemed to have around half that number. The present emperor of India, Hāl is leading the reconstruction of the realm. Taxiles may have declined, but she is a grand city still.

War, rebellion and famine have wreaked havoc on this city over the centuries, but she stood strong and kept her dignity. The temple of Brahma, where the immortal flame has burnt for nearly five centuries stands testament to the timeless and eternal glory of Taxiles.

Our band had waited in an inn, where we rested. A sangh was once established in the city of Taxiles, where the word of the Buddha was preached. That old sangh stands decayed and near ruin. There were once no less than a hundred monks here along with four hundred disciples. Today it has less than twenty monks with only forty disciples. However, they have an ashram where weary travelers such as ourselves can rest and live among brothers of the faith.

We have decided to spend the next five days in the ashram of Taxiles before we venture farther East where we shall meet the great lands of Gangaridae.

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In our time in the city of Taxiles, I have been keenly observing the society and polity in the city of Taxiles. The empire of Magadh is administered through seven large provinces governed by a provincial capital. Taxiles is the only other provincial capital which has authority over more than one province. To the North West beyond the pass of the Hydaspes lies the province of Gandar, whilst to the South lay the province of Matisa. Both these provinces were merged under one administration seated at Taxiles.

Taxiles thus, became an important administrative city whose elite bureaucracy stands only second to that of the Imperial capital of Palibothra. The high officials have their seat in the palatial governor's mansion. A three storied wooden building with beautiful painted sculptures. It is a large complex which houses along with the family of the governor, the quarters for the families of two dozen public servants who live and work within its halls. I counted no less than fifty guards standing guard before the gate of the mansion.

The governor answers to the minister for domestic affairs, who in turn answers to the emperor. The minister for domestic affairs for his part, is tasked with setting targets for the administration of each province which the governor is tasked with executing. A team of official scribes work to collect information on the economy of the provinces under the administration of Taxiles who answer to the governor who in turn sends these reports to minister of finance. The minister of finance sets in agreement with the minister for domestic affairs, the finances of the empire which governors are tasked with implementing.

The task of keeping law and order too falls upon the shoulder of the governor of Taxiles, like the governors in every other province has at his disposal a force equivalent to one for every hundred citizen. Taxiles which is a city of only a few thousand has no more than five hundred of such officers to enforce the emperor's justice. On its own, this is but a mild deterrent to crime, a much stronger deterrent is the garrison of Taxiles comprising of five thousand composite archers. There was a time when their bows pointed West against the threat of outside invaders, but today their arrows look inward, at the citizenry of taxiles.

The society of Taxiles is perhaps reflective of the society of Indica. We had first encountered the caste system in Arachosia, but we had not been acquainted with its fullest extent until we witnessed it in Taxiles. The caste system as set out by Manu, envisioned a society where there would be four castes for four occupations. This division found its source in the divine. When the creator God, Brahma created humanity, he created from his mouth the brahmin and gifted to them wisdom, from his hands he created the Kshatriya warrior and gifted him with strength and valor, from his thighs he created the vaishya and gave him the task of trade, and from his feet he expunged the sudra who shall be the wretched of the earth for he would work for all and feed for all. The brahmins of Indica have now decreed making into law that which had existed in custom, that those who were born unto a caste shall remain forever bound to it.

The Buddha says that it is not birth that decides the nobility of a man, but his actions, his karma. Any person who had committed crime would be punished accordingly by his karma and not by his birth. The law of Indica follows the justice of Manu, here and elsewhere, in every province. That law which excuses a brahmin with a lesser penalty for causing death to a man, while justifying pouring molten lead into the ears of a sudra for learning of the vedas. The Buddha had condemned this, and his disciples had worked for centuries after his birth to defend the weak and oppressed from the injustices of the strong and wealthy. It is perhaps thus, that the followers of Buddha today are made to face such sad days.

Within the provinces of Taxiles , two fifths of the population is Sudra, who live and work as bonded labor for the numerous guilds in the city, while one third is vaishya who are mostly peasants but few among whom are wealthy guild masters and traders. Less than one tenth of the populace of the provinces of Matisa and Gandar are brahmin while the remainder are Kshatriya noblemen. Though the brahmin is accorded the greatest respect, it is the Kshatriya who wields the greatest power. It is not uncommon to see poor brahmins moving from house to house begging for alms, but it is quite impossible to see a kshatriya who does not walk the streets bejeweled. The Vaishya traders live on the South side of Taxiles while the sudras are forced to live in arrows on the East bank of the Hydaspes.

I will narrate an incident that occurred yesterday of which we were told by a trader. A kshatriya nobleman made his way to the governor's mansion through the main street of the city on his chariot, at the same time a sudra untouchable slowly walked across the wide road making his way to the funeral ghat on the bank of the hydaspes. The sudra was an aged man who had been burning corpses since as far as he could remember, his profession though essential to the life of an Indic was the most reviled profession that an Indic could have. His very touch was said to make one impure. The noble Kshatriya riding the chariot rode carelessly and hit the sudra. The sudra's limbs were crippled while the kshatriya's chariot was only slightly scratched at the wheel. The Kshatriya walked out of his chariot and inspected the scratch, he looked upon the sudra wailing in agony on the dusty road, then declared "this chariot has been made impure by this wretched creature" and judged that his act was deserving of death. He unsheathed his sword from his scabbard and separated his head from his shoulders.

When the son of the deceased appealed to the governor for justice, the son was punished for attempting to spite the honor of a noble kshatriya. As punishment the fingers of his right hand was cut out. Such was the misery and injustice the sudra faced. Their only hope was shelter under the Buddhist sangh. We too worked with them where we could in giving relief to those in need.

I really wish I had more time. I should be playing the turns of the Democratic Caliphate now, but instead I'm trying to catch up with this story. I can't take my eyes out of it, and I've spent 20 minutes already and it's far from 50% of all I didn't read yet. OMG, why we don't have like 30 hours per day? 12 of day and 18 of night. It would be great

Me too Adhiraj. I'm finding it hard to manage everything I have to do, but I'll look into it as soon as I can.

And good idea about the book It'll be fantastic!

That's gonna be a long ass book

Maybe we can even Nuke Canada in this, perhaps?

adhiraj.bose said:

@Spirictum : I'm writing this story like a book because I intend to make it a book . Your character is going to be vital in the update I have planned for the next Nine Unknown Men chapter but it will also be necessary to make the latest map of the empire for that update to be possible. I know you're very busy with RL work as well as the work of the Democratic Caliphate so after this update I'm hoping you'll have more time for the map .

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If you ever have it translated to English or Spanish, tell me so I can order it.

Why order it when you can read it now for free? Also I would recommend getting it made into a series Seriously, no way you are fitting all of this into one book

CaterpillarKing said:

Why order it when you can read it now for free? Also I would recommend getting it made into a series Seriously, no way you are fitting all of this into one book

Click to expand...

Why, to support his writing exploits of course!

Ah yes that is true! I think a publisher getting behind a game-based book would be the hardest part. The pictures do play a big role in a lot of the main story parts.

Of course! This is understandable. I hope it doesn't take long to make the first part or first one, so I may show to some friends on college that love GoT. I think they will like it a lot. We have 0 knowledge about India here, so it'll be truly immersive and new (instead of comparative, to the ones who know Indian history).

The only thing we learn about India on school is Gandhi. He lives and he dies, and he is just mentioned in the decolonization chapter of our history classes. No Classical India, no Medieval India, no India in the Great Colonizations, a brief comment of the english invasion of India, and a sidenote story about Gandhi and the decolonization of India. Nothing mentioned after Gandhi.

Note : last post has been updated.

Not portraying big and important parts of our history is something Brazil is relieved of guilty. But that isn't hard, we only have 500 years of history. At least that's the official statement, with the excuse that the tribal villages that lived here couldn't tell their history, so it has no relevance to us.

But the educational system is wrong on how to teach because it makes history boring in the parts that doesn't fit in the agenda, and barely interesting on those that are part of the agenda.

But then I couldn't imagine that that would happen in India too, and even worser IMO. We even study the concept of the creation of our countries even before they existed as a political entity (just a territory with natives). It's not interesting, but at least it's full.

Here in America, we have sort of the same problem, but it's different. Here, we're so Anglocentric that we ignore pretty much everything that isn't about America. It's really sad that we learn more about the role of women in the colonial Backcountry economy than the Napoleonic Wars and Ancient Persia COMBINED.

baseballpie said:

Here in America, we have sort of the same problem, but it's different. Here, we're so Anglocentric that we ignore pretty much everything that isn't about America. It's really sad that we learn more about the role of women in the colonial Backcountry economy than the Napoleonic Wars and Ancient Persia COMBINED.

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EXACTLY! I hate that about history in general. Most countries that I've heard about pretty much only talk about the history of their own country and when they talk about the history of other countries, it's only the parts that involve your own country. Finally, they also try to portray their own country as a Saint in any kind of situation and all other countries as being "evil."