Shadow And Secrets: A Murder Mystery At The backdrop Of Gupta Empire

Circa 403-404 CE. The Gupta Empire has reached its zenith under its greatest ruler yet, Maharaja Chandragupta II Vikramaditya. But with glory comes mischief. Mahakavi Kalidasa, the great poet-dramatist and one of the Navaratnas of the kingdom, heads the state intelligence network to weed out threats, internal and external.

On the eve of the annual Buddhist procession, a spate of shocking murders casts a dark shadow on the glorious city of Pataliputra, with corpses of unidentified foreigners and the city's social and administrative elite turning up one by one.

Who is behind these killings and why?

To crack the mystery, the Mahakavi enlists the help of Shaunaka, one of his unofficial spies. As the keenly observant but idealistic guptachara pursues his secret mission, the young man gets a taste of real-world affairs-deception, religious fanaticism and a 100-year-old secret.

Faced with more questions than answers, there is one thought on everyone's mind-what is going on in Pataliputra?

Here's an excerpt from Harini Srinivasan's Shadows and Secrets: The Pataliputra Conspiracy

Among the travellers were two old Buddhist monks: Tilopa was from the huge vihara in Nandivardhana, his companion, Li Zheng, was a mlechha from the distant land of China. The latter had been on a journey across Bharatavarsha, stopping at holy places where Gautama Buddha walked. The long circuitous journey of the great vast Jambudweepa had taken him years. A chance halt at Nandivardhana five years back when he was travelling with another saartha brought him to the vihara in the city. He stayed there discussing not only the Sutras, Tripitaka, and Mahayana with his fellow monks but also the Upanishads and Vedas with some sanyasis and priests—all of whom he met during his long, meandering walks—as he reflected and observed his fellow human beings. 

Five years had passed. The past fortnight, he felt an inner calling that made him wish to go back to his native land. Tilopa, who was anyway planning a visit back to his hometown, suggested that he accompany him on this saartha and then make his way back to China. That was how they landed up on this caravan and, at this present moment, found themselves waiting in front of their bullock cart, trying to make sense of the hindrance to their journey. “Bhraata, what is the matter? Should we go and find out?” Li Zheng asked, in his peculiar, accented Sanskrit. Being the more curious and the younger of the two, Li Zheng wished to know more. A tall thin man, he was naturally restless and impatient by nature. Years of meditation had calmed his nerves, but it could not quell his natural curiosity. Without waiting for a reply from his mature, placid, older colleague, Li Zheng walked ahead, squinting and peering in the darkness.

Within no time, he had approached the mast of the caravan, a few kos from where Shaunaka was crouched and trying to make the captive speak. Li Zheng stopped next to one of the soldiers and questioned him. “What is going on, brother? How long must we wait? Is everything in order?” The soldier ignored him. However, a stout man in his early twenties standing some footsteps away, replied. “They caught someone. No one is telling us anything. Not this soldier at all. I am waiting here for Ashwini. He will know.” 

Li Zheng looked a bit puzzled. He did not know who this man was or who Ashwini was. 

“Kim? Who?” 

“Oh, please forgive me. I am Nanda, an actor travelling with my troupe. Ashwini is my colleague. For some reason, he went with some of these soldiers. He is there.” Nanda pointed to Ashwini, who was standing just next to Shaunaka. “Once he comes back, we can find out.” 

Not feeling satisfied with this answer and his innate impatience surfacing, Li Zheng took a deep breath and, instead of walking back to his cart, walked straight ahead to Shaunaka! By this time, Tilopa had also caught up with his young colleague. Li Zheng stood next to Shaunaka and addressed him, saying, “Arya, may I be of any help?” Shaunaka looked up at this tall, foreign monk with surprise. But before he could reply, something extremely strange took place.

The upset captive boy almost leapt at the foreign monk, rage flashing in his eyes. Li Zheng moved back, astonished, while Tilopa, who was right behind Li Zheng, shrieked. After an initial lapse of concentration lasting precisely two seconds, Shaunaka barged ahead and held the fiercely agitated boy. “Amitabha!” he yelled, even as two soldiers circled them and restrained the boy. In the meanwhile, Ashwini led the stunned Li Zheng and Tilopa away. 

Budhasresthi and Vidishapala watched this unfolding scene with absolute shock. They had no clue what was going on. “Amitabha,” repeated Shaunaka as he shook the boy hard. The boy immediately burst into tears. “I failed. I failed! What will I do? What will my mother do?” 

“What are you saying? Do not cry. Please help us understand. Who are you? Why are you trying to attack this saartha? This foreign monk?”

Crying inconsolably, amidst sobs and tears, Amitabha then narrated his story. “I am Amitabha, the son of Ravikanta. My father is... was a merchant. Pearls, gold, wine—that was his work. We are Jainas—my father, grandfather, all merchants. Five months back, my father went to the land of the Romakas to sell some pearls and gold, but never came back. Not a word, not a murmur. He simply disappeared.

Even though some members of his expedition came back, no one knew what had happened to him. He was gone, and with him, so was our livelihood. My mother, brother and I knew not what to do. I tried, I did, to earn some money, but I failed!” Amitabha’s sobs now became long wails. The boy was utterly desolate, heartbreakingly so. “I am not a killer, but that’s what they want me to be!” Shaunaka held Amitabha close to him and patted his back.  

“Shh, don’t. Lord Vasudeva will help us all. You are not a killer, Amitabha. See Lord Vasudeva didn’t let you become one. Now tell me what happened.” 

Amitabha calmed down at Shaunaka’s mention that he hadn’t killed anyone. Gulping his tears, he mumbled, “I tried to get a job and earn some money. I tried my hand at various things. Acrobatics, acting, what not. But nothing worked. There was no money at home. Nothing. I was walking near the dockyard on the evening of the Ekadashi that just passed. I go there often, in the vain hope that someone would tell me about my father—what happened to him and whether he was alive. That day, I met a mlechha, a stranger. From his wild locks, dark eyes, and white skin, he looked like a Romaka. I asked him about my father. He did not know him, but he said something strange.” 

Amitabha shut his eyes, reliving his encounter with the foreigner. Shaunaka patted him again, reassuring and encouraging him to speak. “Go on, my boy. What did this mlechha do?”

“He asked me to kill!” Amitabha shrieked. “He told me that if I did what he said, he would give me a potful of gold. Why, he even gave me a few gold coins on the spot to give my mother. He told me to go and give it to her, pack my clothes and then meet him back there at the dockyard. I was a fool. I took it.” Amitabha covered his face in his hands, ashamed of his own deed.  

“Then what happened?”

“I took the money, even without asking him what it was I had to do. I ran back home, handed my mother the gold coins and told her I was leaving. I promised my heartbroken mother that I would be back with more money. The foreign man, along with a friend, another foreigner, a Romaka perhaps, was waiting for me by the docks. He smiled and barked out his instructions. It was scary. He had a menacing smile on his face. I was to come to Nandivardhana and then find out when two monks were to travel to Pataliputra. Once I found that out, I was to get here to the jungle and wait for the saartha to pass. And then I was told to attack the saartha and kill one of the two monks—the foreigner.”

“Why?” The question came out of Shaunaka’s mouth.

“I do not know. I was told that the foreign monk was tall and that he had to be killed! I don’t know anything more. Please save me. I don’t want to die. I am not a killer.” 

Amitabha burst into a fresh bout of tears, even as Shaunaka, Ashwini and the rest of the audience stared in silence. The person most shocked was the intended victim himself. Li Zheng, recovering from the initial shock of a deranged person jumping on him, now had to deal with the realisation that it was on purpose. The man was not deranged. He had been paid to kill him, a Chinese monk, in Jambudweepa! 

Extracted with permission from Harini Srinivasan's Shadow And Secrets