The Queen of Sparta (36 page)

EPILOGUE

THE LEGACY

Taxila

Lands of the Indus

Winter, 327
BC

A cold howling wind blew outside. Laying on a couch next to the fireplace, Alexander put down the manuscript that Kautilya had given him. The Macedonian king had been wintering in Taxila, as a guest of King Ambhi, training his men, and waiting for reinforcements from Macedon and Persia. Once they had arrived, weather permitting, he would march south to face Porus who was massing a huge army across the Hydapses – or the Jhelum as the locals called it. The great Macedonian conqueror picked his lyre and started to strum it.

As he played on the chords, he reflected on what he had just finished reading.

The letter from Elpinice matched what Alexander already knew about the origins of the series of conflicts – known as the Peloponnesian Wars – that would ultimately break the might of both Sparta and Athens, leaving the field free for Macedon to claim the spoils.

The manuscript also left other resonances, deeper than he had expected. Of course, his ancestor, Alexander son of Amyntas, had been something of a controversial figure, his nefarious dealings a well-kept family secret. And yet, had it not been for that Alexander’s machinations, Macedon would never have become a truly independent kingdom. The ends, as always, justified the means, he thought.

Did Alexander not justify his war of conquest against Persia by saying that he was avenging Xerxes’ invasion of Greece? This had made him, a Macedonian, a hero among Greeks.

After decades of internal dissensions, intrigue, and civil war, the Persian Empire had been weakened to the point of collapse. The unfathomable riches of the still great Empire were there for whoever could seize them. And that was the real reason behind Alexander’s invasion of Asia – which began some eleven years before he reached the land of the Indus.

Overthrowing the Persian Empire had not been enough. Alexander’s lust for conquest and glory drove him ever eastwards. But here, on the other end of the world, he once again encountered troublesome people speaking Greek. And it was also in this cursed land that Alexander came close to knowing the true meaning of defeat.

As the sun came out and the wind eased, Alexander grabbed the manuscript and walked out in the courtyard. He mounted his horse and rode off into town, accompanied by his bodyguards – the Companions.

They asked him where he was going. He said simply, “the university.”

The road led to a rather expansive campus set against the backdrop of pleasant hills. The buildings were small and not at all grand. Well-lit and airy, constructed with sun-baked bricks, they gave the impression that a lot of thought had gone into their construction.

Alexander was taken by one of the attendants to a long building and as he entered what appeared to be a large hall, he heard someone greet him in impeccable Greek.

“
Alexandros Megas
, welcome,” said a boy as he prostrated himself before the Macedonian King.

Alexandros Megas
– ‘Alexander the Great’. It was the first time anybody had called him that. The Macedonian King smiled at the boy, who was around fourteen. He stood over a pile of scrolls he had been evidently studying. On closer inspection, Alexander noticed that the boy was reading excerpts from Aristotle’s
Politics
. He could not help smiling. Alexander could still remember the author, his former tutor, teaching him from this very book.

Just then, Kautilya emerged from the adjoining room. “Majesty.” He smiled his usual broad smile and then bowed very low. “What a great pleasure. You honour me by your presence here at my humble library,” he exclaimed excitedly. “I am sorry, I did not know you were coming. Otherwise, I would have prepared a warm welcome for you.”

Alexander waved away his concern. “I have just come to return your book. I shall be riding against Porus very soon.”

Kautilya gestured at the boy. “Majesty, allow me to introduce to you my brightest pupil, Chandragupta Maurya. He is very fond of Greek treatises on politics.”

“He speaks excellent Greek.”

Kautilya asked Chandragupta to excuse them and the boy bowed obediently and left.

Alexander’s eyes followed the boy through the window walking eagerly towards a woman – a very attractive woman in her thirties. But she was not Indian.

“Who is that?” he asked.

Kautilya looked outside and said, “That, Majesty, is the boy’s mother, Maura. Chandragupta was born out of wedlock, so he has given himself the surname Maurya after his mother. She is a former slavegirl. People say she is a
Yavana
– a Greek.”

But to Alexander’s experienced eyes, the woman was not Greek. She was clearly a native of the Balkans kingdoms to the north of Greece. Could she be an Illyrian? A Dardanian perhaps? Or even an Epirote … just like Alexander’s own mother?

Kautilya continued, “Chandragupta’s mother is very ambitious for her son. She believes he has an appointment with destiny. She wants to prepare him for a promising future.”

“She reminds me so much of mine,” said Alexander, smiling as he watched Chandragupta walk into the tender embrace of his mother.

“The boy certainly has shown talent and potential from an early age. He knows much about politics and statecraft for one so young. That is why I have taken him under my wing. I want to teach him all I know.”

“… And what of the boy’s father?”

“Remember Aornos, your Majesty? The fortress that would not fall,” said Kautiliya.

“How can I forget,” Alexander muttered to himself.

“The Indian mercenary who betrayed Aornos to you. He is the boy’s father. But Chandragupta’s father refused to acknowledge him as his legal offspring, not because he was born out of wedlock but because he is not of pure Indian blood. The boy is part
Mleccha
and hence considered impure. At least, this is what his father and most Indians believe. As for me, I am not that narrow-minded. I believe new blood can inspire creativity.”

“And why did you and the boy’s father help me? What is your interest in my success?” asked Alexander.

“Both of us are from the Kingdom of Magadh in the east. At different times, both of us have tried to overthrow the Nanda kings who rule there. My deformities are a result of the cruel torture I suffered at their hands. The boy’s father is a claimant to the throne. He is the last survivor of the royal house of Magadh that was massacred by the Nandas when they seized power. Now we are both in exile, and like me he too is thirsting for revenge against the Nandas.”

Alexander was not amused. “But you said that all I had to do was to defeat Porus and then India would fall at my feet. You never mentioned the Nandas before.”

“Majesty,” said Kautilya, nervously. “Porus is the most successful military commander in India. If you beat him, the defeat of the Nandas will only be a matter of time and course. They will give in as soon as you march against them.”

Alexander was unmoved.

“What is the size of the Nanda army?” he asked.

Kautilya looked away. “A hundred thousand men, twenty thousand chariots, and only a few hundred elephants; nothing that Alexander the Great cannot deal with.”

Alexander flew into a rage. “What do you mean, nothing that Alexander the Great cannot deal with? I have just survived near defeat at the hands of those execrable Sakas, and there were not even that many of them. All I need is just one more ‘victory’ like this one … and then I am undone. Even if Porus puts up half as much resistance as these Sakas did, my army will simply refuse to move any further. There is already enough grumbling in the ranks. If I tell them that after Porus they have to meet an even larger army, they will simply abandon me and go home.”

Then Alexander thought a little and then asked, “Are you sure that there is no other kingdom in India besides that of Porus and the Nandas?”

Kautilya scratched his bald head and said, “Actually, your Majesty, I am not sure how many kingdoms there are in all of India. But once you have trounced Porus and overthrown the Nandas, no one would dare resist you.”

“I am not so sure about that,” said Alexander. “My men are still wincing from the bloody nose the Sakas gave them. For the first time since I have led these men across Asia, I see signs of mutiny. For the first time, I have seen panic in their eyes. For the first time, I am afraid that I am beginning to fail them as a leader.”

“Let us defeat Porus, first,” said Kautilya, soothingly. “But, Majesty, if I am not mistaken, you said you had come to return my book? How did you like it?”

“Very interesting,” Alexander replied. “There is much in this book that I can relate to, but perhaps that is why it makes me uncomfortable. At least now I have answers to some of my questions, though not quite all.”

“I am pleased,” Kautilya said, “that your Majesty enjoyed this book.”

“While I enjoyed reading it, I did not like it. You were right; it is dangerous,” responded the Macedonian. “I want this book, and all copies of it, destroyed.”

“Why, Majesty? … if I may be bold to ask?” Kautilya enquired.

“Well, for a start it does not show my ancestor and namesake Alexander of Macedon in a favourable light. He is shown as a treacherous double-dealer. The book also raises the thorny question of whether we Macedonians are really Greek or not. Of course, we are not really … completely … Greek, but the myth of being Greek is important for me to maintain my empire. The book promotes the emancipation of slaves, which is very subversive. Then I also find his tendency to give political credit to women a little misguided. Even though my mother, Olympias, has had a disproportional influence over myself and my career, I don’t think it is politically wise to advertise such details. Finally, all this talk about the one God. It will not go down well with my subjects, many of whom have already hailed me as a son of one god or another. This book has the potential of undoing everything I have worked for.”

Kautilya thought for a minute and then smiled. “Your wish is my command, Majesty. I will see to it that all the copies are destroyed.” He took the manuscript from Alexander’s hand and threw it into the fire in a nearby hearth.

“You are right that the emancipation of slaves is not a good idea. In India we have slaves and we also have castes. Everybody needs to know their place in society, especially those at the bottom. I also agree that the idea of one God is subversive. But then again, religion can always be exploited. I have been using my influence with the followers of a new cult called Buddhism to undermine the power of the Nandas. And yes, about women, I always say that their only role is to please and serve men. Giving them a role greater than that serves no one’s interest.”

Alexander nodded in approval, and Kautilya bowed and excused himself. “Let me bring the other copies of this manuscript so that we can burn them together.” He disappeared inside and brought another half a dozen copies. The two men then threw them into the fire.

As Alexander committed the last manuscript to the blaze, he asked Kautilya, “How true do you think this story was? I mean, did this man really exist? What do you know about the real Sherzada? What happened to him?”

Kautilya smiled. “Majesty, let us stretch our legs – it has become quite pleasant – and I shall tell you all I know.” He hobbled outside into the lush green countryside, followed by the Macedonian king.

As they left the university and walked through the cornfields towards the hills in the distance, Kautilya began, “The story of Sherzada is shrouded in mystery. Had it not been for this book, none would have believed that he even existed. Now that the book is destroyed, I am sure he will be relegated to a category of legend, or even forgotten altogether.”

As they walked, Kautilya continued, “His entire life is a subject to much debate. However, the accepted view is that he returned from the West accompanied by a foreign woman and her son. There is even one story of a possible second, younger wife that came along later. Then, there are different versions of what happened after he returned home. Again, the majority view seems to be that he united a divided kingdom. He became the King of the Sakas.

“As King, Sherzada extended the territory of his kingdom in every direction, more through negotiations than through war. The name River Indus is locally called the Sindh after Sherzada’s tribe, the Sindhic Sakas. In the end, even some of the former eastern territories of the Persian Empire like Gandhara, Arachosia and Gedrsosia recognized him as their overlord rather than the Persian King.

“Legends suggest,” Kautilya continued, “that though he ruled wisely, some of his reforms did not go down too well with his people. His attempts to reform the caste system were not too popular, because the Sakas did not want their society destabilized by Sherzada’s revolutionary ideas. His compassion towards the slaves and lower castes was seen as a sign of weakness. Finally, his worship of the one God alienated the priestly classes of the Sakas as well as of the local communities whom he brought into this confederal empire of his. They say he was killed in a conspiracy. But as I said, these are only some of the versions of the many legends about this man.”