Raktacharit – writ in blood
Four centuries had the Satavahan ruled over the realm of Bharata, longer than any dynasty since the founding of this empire. The people called it, the immortal dynasty, since never in living memory had any dynasty ruled for as long, yet wiser men knew, that all things must pass, even the reign of the immortal dynasty. Bhikkus and Sadhus alike spoke of an impending tragedy, the star of the Satavahan was fading, and an unfortunate heir will come to this world to see the Satvahan dynasty extinguish.
At the end of his life, Sri Pulumayi, the third of his name, saw a dream on his deathbed, the dream saw the end of his line, the end of the Satavahan dynasty. His vision was grizzly and frightening, but every heir to the throne since him had been passed this story. Pulumayi remembered his father, the passing Samrat whose reign had ended before its time, the dream had consumed his thoughts. Not a day passed that he did not spend hours consulting with seers and advisers, finding ways to ward off the curse. As part of his schemes to counter the curse, he had offered his own name to his son. Samrat Pulumayi himself was so named after an earlier ancestor upon the advise of sooth sayers who foretold that it would defend him from misfortune. The same people had
The obsession had destroyed the emperor's ability to think, over time he had ceded more and more administrative duties to his subordinates. Mahamatya Ganesh Chandra was almost an equal to the emperor himself, there were even rumours that he was behind the emperor's infirmities. He had long since retired, but in his stead, his some Mahesh Chandra had assumed the post of Mahamatya. The son was twice as cunning as his father was, spinning webs of intrigues which spanned the entire realm and whose influence spread beyond the boundaries of Bharata over to her emissaries in foreign nations. The Samrat knew nothing of it, he like his father was being consumed by fear. Everywhere he looked he saw enemies, they lurked in the shadows, they built their ranks in the armies, they whispered their plots to one another behind closed rooms, they were everywhere and yet, nowhere. The Samrat could not tell friend from foe, his ineptitude was a boon for Mahamatya Mahesh Chandra.
The Samrat sat on the lion throne with a heavy brow, he was fearful of the future, but tried his best not to show it. The affairs of the day were about to begin, Mahamatya Mahesh Chandra had arrived with an attendant carrying several scrolls, it would be a long day in the royal court. “Pranam Samrat”, Mahesh Chandra bowed before the Samrat,
“Pranam Mahamatya”, the samrat replied, “I see quite many scrolls you bring, what business do we have today?”
“Oh most of these are messages from our emissaries in foreign lands. The Emissary of Roma, the Emissary of the Chin lands, the Governor of Persia, and a curious message from the explorer Ghatotkach who is journeying to lands East of Suvarnadweep.
“Is that all?”,the Samrat looked on with frustration, none of these were matters he held in high regard, foreign policy could hang for all he cared, he was more interested in domestic matters. “Is there no news from our homelands?”
“There is, much and more. The leaders of grain traders of Vanga, Sindhu and Takshashila have sent their emissary to treat with us, Arya Sri Gupta. However, he has yet to arrive.”
The Samrat sighed, “Very well then, we may begin with these messages.”
The Mahamatya instructed the attendant to keep the scrolls to the ground and hand him the first one of them. This was a message from the Emissary of Roma, “The Emissary of Roma writes to us of matters concerning the Eastern realms of Judea and Syria.
The region remains in turmoil. Bands of rebels have continued to hold control of the countryside outside Jerusalem and Syria while Armenian rebels have arisen from the mountains seeking to carve their own realm over the province of Syria. The rebellious hebrews of the province of Syria have at present revolted against Roman rule. The Empire finds itself in peril the likes of which it has never seen before. There is talk among Romans, rich and poor alike, that the entire Eastern realm of the empire might be ceded out, this has become a source of much contention between the Eastern Empire and the Western Empire. The Anatolians from their stronghold in Ankyra are said to be plotting to seize this opportunity to expand their reach across the Roman Orient. Only time will tell if these plans will succeed. Our traders, those with whom I have spoken in Roma, fear for the future of trade with the empire should the Eastern provinces secede, yet it seems only a matter of time till it does. The Roman Emperor is an able man and he controls one of the greatest armies in the world, but the multitude of problems that plague his reign make it hard to focus on every front.”
The Samrat gave a disapproving look hearing this story, “So? What am I to do about it?” he posed the question to the Mahamatya,
“Samrat, there is not much that can be done, save sending troops into the territory of Roma. However, this may be thought of as a great slight on the pride of that empire.”
“So what is your advise, Mahamatya?”
“My advice, O Samrat, is we do nothing. It is enough simply to know that Roma's Eastern provinces are troubled. We will yet find ways to trade with them, but through the seas.”
“Very well then! On to the next report.”
“Certainly Samrat”, Mahesh Chandra bowed before unfolding the next group of reports, this came from the explorers in the East.
“The explorer Arya Ghatotkatch writes from virgin lands South East of Suvarnadweep. He writes :
'Pranam Samrat, through the blessings of the Gods and your own infinite generosity, our journey to the East bears fruit. Not only have we made successful trade with the people's of the East, we have also made great discoveries. In our ship we have stored a veritable menagerie of exotic creatures, from apes with bulbous noses, giant lizards that spew fiery spit, a great red ape the likes of which no traveller from Bharata has ever witnessed. But all these pale in comparison to the greatest discovery of all, for we have been blessed to find the lost land of our Dravidan ancestors, we have found Kumari Kandam !
Do not think these words are mere fantasies O Samrat, this land truly does exist over several hundred Gaj from the Southern coast Suvarnadweep. Many of my crew driven by a zealous passion, have disembarked on the shores of this vast land and seek to restore their ancestor's civilization. I am now residing on the shores of the isle of Suvarnadweep, over the years that me and my father have explored these lands, I have made friends among the locals of this land, married among them and fathered children that are both Dravida and of Suvarnadweep, with this in mind I seek your permission to settle here and join others like me who have settled in this land.”
The Samrat sighed, “another sailor to the East runs away. It has been happening quite a lot these days.”
“Indeed Samrat. It has come to my knowledge that there may be over a dozen settler colonies by Indian sailors and traders, all along the Eastern lands.”
“Are these colonies threat to us?”, the Samrat asked sounding concerned,
“No.. Not at all Samrat. They encourage trade, and act as a bridge between us and the Chin Empire. However, should they become independent nations in their own right, we should adjust our approach accordingly.”
“In that case, I commission that regular naval patrols be conducted, a fleet should be built for that purpose!”
“Samrat.. such a move would take away much needed resources from the state, and we have been incurring deficits, spending from the Imperial reserves to fund your predecessor's agrarian reforms..”
“Hang the bloody reforms! In any case, all it has done is fatten the bellies of a few impudent lords”, no sooner than the Samrat had bellowed these words in anger, a messenger ran towards the Mahamatya announcing the arrival of Lord Sri Gupta, “Arya Mahesh Chandra!..” he said panting, “Samrat.. Lord Sri Gupta and his entourage has arrived, he is waiting at the palace gates”.
The Samrat's mood had instantly soured at the thought of it, he hated the prospect of meeting these Lords, but here they were, “Let them in!”, he commanded sounding annoyed.
A few moments later, Lord Sri Gupta entered the Throne room accompanied by nine other lords, each from the different regions of the realm. He walked proudly up to the Samrat, and greeted the monarch as was fit, “Pranam Samrat,” he said and bowed before the emperor, “May the heavens bestow their infinite blessings upon you”.
“Spare me the niceties Lord Gupta”, he spoke derisively, “you come here seeking more funds I reckon?”
Sri Gupta looked back at the Emperor with a humble expression and smile on his face, “we are but beggars living on the grace of your infinite wisdom O Samrat. You may know, that the Southern realms suffer from severe shortages of grain, and our stores are hard pressed to meet this demand. If you should refuse to lend us more money at this hour, it would result in riots, and riots may become rebellion.”
Samrat Pulumayi looked at Sri Gupta disapprovingly, he turned his gaze to the Mahamatya who stood smirking and looking through his messages, “Mahamatya Mahesh, is there any truth to what this man says?”
“Indeed Samrat, my own messengers have reported that in the last month alone, there were as many as a dozen riots for rice. Banditry is rife on the Dakshinapath between Avanti and Madurai. The situation is tense. Our garrison in the South has been keeping the peace for now, but it is only a matter of time before the violence spirals out of control and our garrison in the South would find their resources stretched.”
The Samrat looked angrily at the delegation, he did not wish to grant them any more concessions than they already had. Over twelve maunds of gold had been drained annually to compensate these Landed elites for their losses, when he spoke there was vitriol and contempt in his tone, “I grant you two thousand Kasharpan, not more. Mahamatya Mahesh, give the command to the treasury to disburse this amount forthwith. Does that conclude our business Lord Gupta? Or is there something more you seek?”. Usually, at this point, the Lords would raise more demands or debate the efficacy of the Emperor's concession, this time however, Lord Gupta simply smiled and bowed, “None further Samrat. We are grateful O Samrat.”
“Then begone!” The Samrat shouted out angrily.
As the Lords walked away, Mahamatya Mahesh went through his messages and approached the emperor, “Samrat Pulumayi, it is not wise to irk them so”.
“I have had enough of these greedy old merchants”.
“Maybe so Samrat, but it is unwise to express your disapproval so openly”, the Mahamatya cautioned,
“What will they do against me huh? I am the Samrat of the Empire of Magadh ! I would have had their heads on pikes if it weren't for you cautioning me against it!”
“And I will continue to caution you against it Samrat. It is better to contain their influence such as we have been doing.”
The Samrat leaned against the throne, he felt frustrated and mentally exhausted. He rubbed his brow and breathed in deeply, “You have counselled me well Mahamatya Mahesh Chandra, I trust on your judgement. Right now, I wish to take my minds off these matters. I shall take a stroll through the garden, if anyone should ask for me, let them know I will not entertain anyone today.”
“As you wish Samrat”, the mahamatya bowed and left the throne room.
The Samrat made his way to the palace gardens, in the months of Autumn the gardens seemed almost dull, a sea of green with hardly a flower in bloom. In the distance, he saw two children playing with a few courtiers, they were his two nephews, the children of Abhayanaga, the emperor's cousin through his relation with the house of Vijaya. Though the house of Vijaya had come to an early end with the death of Amandagamani Abhaya, the crisis of succession was resolved peacefully, and the throne of Lanka passed on to his cousin's line, the clan of Lambakanna. During Autumn, the family of the Lankan king conducted his annual journey to Magadh to be with their cousins in the North.
The Samrat loved their company, in particular he loved the company of his nephews. Playing with them and telling them tales of the past was his preferred escape from the rigours of the world. The children paused their game when they saw their uncle coming to them, young Sankara grinned and ran excitedly to his beloved uncle hugging him, “Uncle!” he exclaimed, the eight year old was the darling of the family, the sweetest of the children, and quite the contrast with his elder sibling Shravana, “Pranam Samrat”, he greeted touching Samrat Pulumayi at his feet as was proper. “Blessings Shravana, Sankara. So what are we doing today?”
“We were playing chausar.”, Sankara said pointing to the makeshift board that had been drawn with chalk on the floor, the courtiers stood as pieces of chausar, “but I'm bored with it, I'm not winning!”
“haha! There can only be one winner in Chausar, besides you are playing it wrong”, the Samrat explained, “Chausar needs four players at a time.”
“I explained it to him, uncle, but he was insistent in playing this game. He said he wanted to be like Amandagamani Abhaya and fight the battle for Magadh.”
“Tell us the story again uncle ! Tell it!” Sankara asked eagerly,
“hehe if you ask let us sit children”.
The Samrat sat with his nephews on either side, on a garden bench. He began telling the children of the story, as best as he knew it, and as it was told to him by his mother, and to her by his grandfather before him. He regaled them with the stories of righteous Minister Vijayanand, the cunning and traitorous Mahamatya Kartikeya, the honourable Amatya Brahmagupt, the strategem of Amandagamani Abhaya, and the noble actions of the Immortal Mrityunjaya. He liked telling these tales as much as the children enjoyed listening to them, for those brief moments he felt truly connected with that gilded age of the Satavahana Dynasty, that age when Magadh was ruled by men of valor and virtue, a great empire rescued from the precipice, it gave him hope that perhaps the same may happen yet again, and every time that the empire finds itself in peril, for good men would always be there to save the future of Bharata. While the Samrat spent his afternoon regaling the children with stories of past exploits, his ministers spun webs of intrigues in the corridors of his own palace.
In the treasury chamber of the Palace, the Mahamatya met with his accountants. Beside the royal treasury that housed the gold reserves of the empire, was an inconspicuous empty chamber whose original purpose has been forgotten to time. Here the Mahamatya met with three mysterious figures, cloaked in shawls. “Greetings Lord Gupta, Lord Bharghava, Lord Rajanan”, he greeted the three lords of Vanga, Avanti and Dravida Nadu. They pulled down their cloaks to speak with the Mahamatya, “I trust the arrangements are ready ?”, Lord Sri Gupta asked,
“They are Arya Gupta. As agreed, we strike tonight.”
“At the tenth hour of the night. I trust you to shift the guards at the opportune moment.”
“All will be done as requested Lord Gupta”.
“What of the immortal, Amatya Mrityunjay? We have yet failed to win him over to our plans”, Lord Rajanan said,
“Do not worry about him. When evening falls he will be journeying to the Avantinagar with the gold the Samrat has committed. He will not trouble us tonight”.
“Good. Your work is most commendable Mahamatya”, Lord Gupta remarked, “remind me to reward you when the deed is done.”
“heheh! Arya Sri Gupta, I should not have to remind you”, the Mahamatya said with a sly voice.
Later in the night..
In the tenth hour of the night everyone in the palace had fallen asleep for the night, all except the guards. The samrat rested in his bedchamber after tucking in his two nephews in their bed, he told them yet another story of their great ancestor, Amandagamani Abhaya. The children slept with dreams of grandeur and glories of days past, little did they know of the nefarious plans that had been set afoot in the palace.
The Samrat had left three guards to guard his bedchamber entrances. In the destined hour, a bell rang in the distance. It was an odd sound that broke the chilly silence of the night, it had awoken the Samrat and aroused his curiosity, “What is that sound? A bell? At this hour?”, he asked himself as he got off his bed. He began to wonder what possible reasons there could be behind the ringing of the bell, “Are we being attacked?.. or is there some calamity?”, he started to become anxious. He quickly dressed himself in his royal attire and opened the door of his bedchamber, there he found the guards standing before him, spear in hand, the guards stopped the Samrat from walking out of the room, “What do you think you people are doing? Step aside and let me move!”, the Samrat ordered, the guards smirked and one of them chuckled.
The bell had just stopped ringing, yet again the night was silent, the guards slowly walked in towards the Samrat. “Have you gone mad! I am the Samrat of the Empire of Magadh! Move away.. I will have you punished for this!”, he screamed, but the guards wouldn't listen, they silently marched ahead, one among them closed the door of the bedchamber behind him and locked it in. There was no escape for the Samrat now, he stumbled and fell to the floor. “No... you cannot do this! You cannot!” he screamed in despair, “By kali I swear I will have you burnt alive! I...”, before the Samrat could finish his sentence, one of the guards thrust his spear into the hapless king's throat. The first stab was followed by a series of stabs, in all the guards stabbed Samrat Pulumayi thirty times rendering him a bloody mess. Once they were certain that the emperor had died, they walked out of the bedchamber closing the door as they left. The guards moved to their next target, the unguarded chambers of the queen and the chamber of his Emperor's cousins.
The guards moved swiftly through the corridors of the palace, they met with other palace guards, they too had been bought by Sri Gupta and Mahamatya Mahesh Chandra. They swiftly reached the Eastern chambers of the palace complex, their next targets would be in the chambers here. The guard here was not party to their nefarious scheme, when he saw the murderous trio with their bloodied spears coming to him, he stopped them. “Halt! Why do you come here? Why are your spears bloodied?”
“Step aside you stupid old man!” one of the enemy guards said,
“No I will not! I have a duty to protect these guests and I won't move!”
“Step aside or we'll kill you!”, the other guard shouted,
“Not if I kill you first!”, the old guard pointed his spear at the murderers, it made the guards chuckle.
One of the trio approached the old guard with spear in hand, ready to respond to his challenge. With only three moves the old guard killed the murderer, thrusting his spear into his heart. The sight had shocked the trio, now both of them approached the guard, far more cautiously. Meanwhile within the bedchambers, the two children had woken up, the commotion at their door had disturbed their sleep. Sankara walked up to the door to see what was happening, when he saw his mouth opened wide in surprise, the old guard heavily injured was fighting off not one not two but three other guards, despite his old age he had held them with his superior skill. He was momentarily distracted noticing the door open behind him, “Kumar Sankara run away! Go! Go out the window!”, he said still fighting the would be assassins. Sankara stood blankly for a moment, before realizing what was happening, he dashed to his brother waking him up, “brother! Brother! We must flee ! We must flee at once!” he shouted shoving him and waking him up. Rajanan woke up feeling groggy, he too saw the scene at their bedroom entrance, the old guard was on his last step, he had managed to kill one of his three adversaries, but his guard was lowered and that allowed the assassins to thrust their spears through him.
The boys hurriedly made their way to the window, Rajanan helped push Sankara through the window, it was easier to do so given Sankara was the younger of the two brothers. Rajanan climbed through the window next, but before he could get off on the balcony, one of the assassin guards grabbed him by the neck and pulled him back in, “Brother!” Sankara screamed in despair, “Leave me Sankara ! Go save yourself!” the elder brother screamed to his younger brother, before being put to an end by the spear of the assassin. Sankara watched in horror as the assassins thrust their spears through his brother, but he knew he could not stand around, he ran, as fast as his legs could take him. As he ran, he could hear another wail in the winds, it was a woman's voice pleading for mercy before crying out in pain, Sankara looked up as he climbed down the ladder to the lower levels, he knew who the assassins had taken now, “Ma...”, he whispered in horror. Tears began to well in his eyes, he was about to break down, but he would not, he would save himself. He ran towards the main gate, it wasn't easy to navigate through the night, but he managed to do the best he could relying on his memory of the palace.
He went East, as far as he could, he knew the Eastern gates led out to the river, perhaps he could escape by boat to somewhere safe? He simply kept running as far and fast as he could, and as far away from the palace as he could, just then he had a thought, “Samrat Pulumayi.. maybe he is still alive!”, he changed course and ran towards the palace garden and to the royal chambers. There were guards everywhere, and he presumed they were all searching for him. He could hear them shouting, “Look for Rajanan!”, he had to be careful if he was going to make it. He had managed to sneak in to the garden, luckily this area did not have as many guards patrolling. He made a dash through the garden onwards to the Emperor's chamber, being swift and avoiding any possible patrols that would come his way. He walked up to the Emperor's chamber and opened the door, only to find the Samrat had been murdered, there lay his body beside his bed, in a pool of blood. He gulped and stood frozen, his hands started to shake, he had heard stories of intrigues bloodshed and royal assassinations, his childlike naivete made them out to be great stories of adventures, but here was the reality of it, laid bare and raw before him.
As he walked out of the bedroom, he heard a shout, a guard had spotted him, “There there he is! Get him!”, the guard shouted, Sankara was alerted to his presence, he ran again, this time towards the garden, but he could see a dozen or more guards rushing in through the main entrances. His path was cut off by one of them, another came up behind the boy, he knew he was cornered now, he stood at the steps trying to find a way out, but there was none. He whimpered and fell down, as one of the guards moved towards him spear in hand, he gave a smile before thrusting it into his head. Thus ended, the line of the Satavahana.
.
