'Ai Orsa' – The Hunt, A Saka Novel

[Shahrasayr]

So there's a third horde coming down from the steppes?

Anyway, just dropping by to say that I'm very much enjoying this TL

Thanks Pat, it means a lot to me.

Next update more visions and mystic stuff.

 

[Shahrasayr]

Paśyai​

Forests around Huẉïśgrutka, Middle of Spring 132 BC

Paśyai dislodged the arrow from the great Deodara tree, turning around and slipping it in his quiver. He had tracked and slain two deer today, just having missed his third prey. He sighed and turned around, sheathing his bow and walking to his horse Hujsïka. He secured the dead deer with the ropes to the colourful mat on the back of his horse. He winced when he saw the small amount of prey he had been able to kill today. It was definitely a mediocre haul for the height of spring.

Mounting Hujsïka, he started riding towards his village. Today, or more so tonight, was special. The Imherao [1] had ordained today would be the first great divining of his life and he had to get all the necessary special ingredients for the hauma to be brewed. And the special ingredient he had needed, he had found yesterday.

He had needed to find strips of bark from the purrā kiśauka [2] and had found such a tree, a rarity according to the elders of his tribe, this far south. He watched as the sun began to set. Now all that remained was the fast ride back to Huẉïśgrutka [3].

****​

The khāśạna [4] of the Imherao was dimly lit and the only thing in between the sitting Paśyai and the old man seated in front of him was a small cloth and fire pit, as well as some beautiful brass vessels with carvings of Tajhuka. In the small silk cloth were placed all the ingredients of the hauma which was to be made.

The water in the brass vessel had come to boil and steam, so the priest removed it from over the fire. He then got the small bag of cloth and slipped it into the pitcher, placing it on a beautiful mat with a miniature of two stags locking horns. He uttered a few words to Arimppaśa, before handing the sacred knife to Paśyai.

He knew exactly what he had to do. Paśyai took the knife from the Imherao and made a small cut on the fore of all the fingers on his left hand. The priest put the pitcher with hauma in front of Paśyai, who squeezed his hands to let the blood drip from his fingers into the vessel. The drink was almost complete. The priest then took a horn of a stag sitting beside him and stirred the drink.

Paśyai meanwhile put his hand bleeding hand in his lap, not flinching. He placed the knife on the mat next to the pitcher which the priest was stirring while humming and chanting hymns. The priest noticed the calm Paśyai simply staring at the fire and smiled. Most men going through the ritual would clutch their hands and wrap it in their karašta [5] while groaning in pain.

"Śūra hvaṇdä, hvāṣṭānä pūrä."

The words went right past Paśyai's ears as his hand had started to sting. The priest stopped stirring and handed the vessel to Paśyai, chanting a few words. Paśyai took the pitcher and drunk the sacred drink. The world around him slowly twisted and turned before everything slowly blacked out.

****​

When Paśyai woke again he was in an endlessly stretching plain of dry grass, the only distinguishing feature a large mountain right in front of Paśyai. He himself was standing on a neatly cobbled road, something he had never seen before. Instinctively he started walking up the road.

At some places on the winding and seemingly endless road became many steps before reverting back to a road. As he continued on the mountain he eventually came upon a little shrine-like structure on the side of the road. It had what looked like very strange and abstract drawings on it, as well as a painting of a lion prowling a fire. He leant in closer, so he could get a better look.

Suddenly he realised what the strange things above the painting were.
It is the writing of Yavanas. Instantly a sense of grief overcame Paśyai. His father was starting to teach him how to read and speak the tongue of Yavanas, as well as write it. Yet Mogha had died only two days after his schooling had began. There was no one else in the entire tribe who could speak or read Yavana phirrai[6].

He got back up off his knees and kept walking up the path. As he got further up the all surveying mountain, the scenery changed from trees, earth and grass to rocks and snow. He also encountered many more of these shrines with many interesting and strange inscriptions followed by drawings. As he was getting very high up the path, he witnessed one which struck out to him.

There were two boys, one dark skinned and the other fair skinned. They were both herding cows but had multiple limbs and had rays of the sun coming from behind their heads. The dark skinned boy was also playing a flute while he tended to the cows with his other arms. What also struck out about the shrine was that the script looked nothing like that which he had seen on the previous stone shrines.

He once again got up and continued his journey up the mountain. As he looked over the side of the peak he saw the flat plains below truly were endless. As he edged closer to the top the snow and storm slowly cleared, revealing a peaceful and tranquil nice meadow at the top. In the centre of the meadow was a tree whose roots were coming from the ground and beside flowed a stream.

Slowly Paśyai approached the small haven, a clear contrast from the rest of the surroundings. As he walked closer he saw two animals and crouched down. Drinking from the stream was a ram and a stag, both animals content with the other being close by and sharing their drink. Suddenly the grass started drying and the tree started dying. Paśyai watched in amazement as the lush grass around him turned into sand and dead grass.

He then turned his attention back to the two animals and saw that the stream had started to dry. The stag had stopped drinking while the ram had continued to drink. After a moment the stag came back to take a quick sip, but the ram slammed it away with his powerful horns before turning back to his drink. The stag came back with a vengeance and hit the ram on his hind legs, catching the beast off guard.

Feeling a sting on his leg and looked down and saw it was bleeding moderately. He then looked back up to see that the two animals, who had been friends merely moments ago, had gotten locked into a fight to the death because of the ram's greed.

Paśyai watched as the two animals ripped apart each other, every wound the ram got also appearing on himself. He soon saw both animals had battered each other to exhaustion and were bleeding heavily, as was he. As they bled, a few wolves came out of the shadows, appearing mysteriously. They killed the dying animals with ease and feasted on them.

Paśyai tried to move away slowly but slipped on some stones, making the wolves' ears pricking up. They looked around fiercely and one saw the bleeding Paśyai. The hungry animal looked at him with a cold smile and sprinted forward, leaping onto the wounded man.

****​

Paśyai woke up shouting and screaming, dripping in sweat. He was on the floor exactly where he had been before the ritual began and the Imherao was sitting across and looking at him with curiosity.

He sat back up and stretched his arms, looking around to try and see how much time had passed. This was almost impossible in the dim hall of the Imherao, where it felt as if it was still the evening and no time had passed. The priest then beckoned Paśyai to retell his visions. The young chief complied and recited the entire experience from start to finish, shuddering at some points.

The priest sat quietly and thought after Paśyai finished reciting his visions. He then seemed to come to a satisfying conclusion. "The ram was obviously symbolizing you and your progeny, while the stag symbolised some other great house. If the Moghao take this path and become consumed by greed, our peoples might get caught in internal strife which will destroy our peoples. The wolves were the Yaojhi who will swoop in and finish us off completely."

Paśyai looked at the priest with disappointment and anger. He had expected portents of a great future and brilliant destiny that awaited him in his first consuming of hauma, not ill omens and warnings. He got up and stormed towards the door of the khāśạna. Just as he was about to open the door he stopped when the priest said something that caught his interest.

"What did you say venerable one?" he asked, looking at the priest who had not moved from his position beside the fire pit, which was less flames and was rather filled with embers by now.

"Calm down fiery one. Arimppaśa favours those who stay patient. For you she divines an opportunity for victory. If the Prūśavārāmja [7] does not return with an offer of friendship by the next full moon you must ride with the largest host you can call upon. There will endless riches and glory in war. If he does give back a valid offer you must accept it and treasure it."

Turning away and opening the door, a blast of cold air of the night greeted Paśyai. He smiled at the news, before turning around to greet the Imherao a goodnight before closing the door and walking towards the tethered Hujsïka, mounting the horse. The young chief then rode off towards the Murundja's hall to get a good sleep, this time around with dreams that were a little bit more attractive.

---------------------------​

[1] Imherao - known as the Enarei to Herodotus, this hereditary class of diviners were priests of the goddess Arimppaśa, a Saka equivalent of Aphrodite Urania.
[2] purrā kiśauka - The moon tree, a name for what is known as basswood in America and the lime tree in the UK.
[3] Huẉïśgrutka means 'high water' in Saka/Hvatanai. It is the name of the village because of the waterfall which is not located far from it.
[4] khāśạna - Abode, dwelling or sanctum sanctorum.
[5] karašta - The dress made from animal skins and very similar to the kurta, which is worn commonly throughout north India and Pakistan.
[6] Yavana phirrai - Greek language
[7] Prūśavārāmja - King of the Prūśavā, the Saka name for the people of the Gilgit-Baltistan region.

Pronunciation of letter combinations in Saka

hv - 'huv'
bv/b - 'bvih' or 'vih'
ys - 'zuh'
js - 'chaas' or 'haas'

 

[Orisha91]

Ah, some good old tempering of the young and brash.
Listening to his elders should do Pasyai some good, especially when it comes to diplomacy.

Nice update.

 

[Oracle of Sobek 𓆋]

Excellent update! You really bring the Saka culture to life, it's all very vivid

What are your sources for the Saka language, if I may ask?

 

[Shahrasayr]

Excellent update! You really bring the Saka culture to life, it's all very vivid

What are your sources for the Saka language, if I may ask?

Thank you!

My best source of the language comes from this website:

https://archive.org/details/soshyans51_yahoo_Saka

Admittedly it is one of Khotanese Saka and has it's differences to the tribal language but there are a few rules I use to 'Iranicize' the words, most of which are heavily influenced by Buddhist Sanskrit and Pali.

 

[Shahrasayr]

Keśava​

The court of Keśava, Śrīnagar, Late Spring 132 BC

"ENOUGH, all of you! I decree not a word of this shall reach the ears of Milindha. If I come to know that someone has told the vainglorious idiot in Takṣaśilā I'll have the man thrown in a pit of lions."

The entire court went completely quiet. Their king had spoken and his tone of voice was suggesting today he didn't want to mess about. Keśava rose off his throne and walked down the centre of his hall, quietly staring down all of his nobles and courtiers. They quivered in their golden seats, each of them from one illustrious background or another.

He could feel the anger boiling up inside of him and looked around to find the pillar depicting the Buddha's first sermon. His raged quelled and he sighed, cursing their pettiness. Keśava then returned to his throne, some attendants helping him on.

He then looked at the young man who stood in front of him. It was a brave thing to deliver bad news to a king and Keśava admired the bravery of the youth. Some say that you could be executed for giving your ruler ill tidings. But anyone who would kill a messenger is not befitting to be a ruler to start with.

"Young man, take the word back to your town's Praṣasitra [1]. Tell him that we will send forces to guard the town." he announced. Keśava's voice was the regalest his courtiers had heard and was quite the opposite of his physical appearance.

At this the young man bowed and turned around to leave the court the guards opening the magnificent golden gates of the court for him. As Keśava watched the young man leave he was deep in thought.

This was one of the few chances he would have to prove himself in a real battle. All his life a different kind of war had been fought all around him. One of hissing threats and curses with concealed daggers rather than rousing speeches with strong steel swords. Here presented was an opportunity to use his skill in speech to take the reins of this dessicated court.

His court by now had reverted back to its petty scheming, webs of hatred and power play being spun by these wicked spiders. Some claimed to do it for the gods. Others for the people's glory. And every single one of them was a lie, making Keśava so repulsed that he cringed a bit.

As he silently watched the courtiers discuss amongst themselves he saw how they would pass looks and whisper to each other, sometimes even gazing at the throne, before quickly turning back as soon as they saw their king looking at them. He knew they hated him and he couldn't help but think that he reciprocated these thoughts.

"Well my kind friends, what has happened? We are subject to a foreign nation and barbarians are waiting to charge into our lands and loot us of our wealth. And your fight for your petty gains. Would it suit kshatriyas [2] like you to be lax, while creatures like me fight the Mlechchas [3]?" he mocked his lords. He knew those more experienced politics would take it as a slight and try to retort, yet it would whip up the fury of the fresh young Damaras [4].

And it did as Keśava had predicted, many head-strong, foolish and young lords rising up and proclaiming their oath to fight the oncoming hordes in the name of the dharma [5] and all that is holy. After fifteen or so young prince did so, Keśava decided plenty had sworn their swords and rose.

"Then you will swear, you will swear that you will fight ferociously. I shall swear, I swear on my untainted arm that I will fight like lion! Go to your towns and clans, doing amass a glorious army in the name of the dharma!" he roared as he removed his cloak and drew his sword, revealing is tiny and deformed left hand. He then unsheathed his khanda [6] and raised it in the air, his young vassals doing so as well and chanting for the glory of their kingdom and liege. As Keśava surveyed his ecstatic commanders, he saw many of his old rivals and ill-wishers cursing at his success at getting in the heads of the foolish young lords. Yet one person caught his eye.

Old Jnaneśvara sat hauntingly calmly on his seat just viewing the ruckus and coldly studying it. Keśava knew one thing if anything about being a successful ruler; if someone is unreadable he is a threat.

As the commotion went on in the palace, outside the skies were slowly enveloped by dark clouds and the sunlight was strangled as the winds blew. A storm was coming and the thunder would soon be on its way.

-----------------​

[1] Praṣasitra - Governor, but it would be more of a tax collector and headman in this case.
[2] Kshatriya - The warrior caste in the Vedic and Hindu philosophy.
[3] Mlechchas - Derogatory term developed in the early Northern Black Polished Ware period to refer to sinful foreigners by Indians.
[4] Damara - Lord, at this stage simply meaning the village and clan chiefs rather than anything feudal.
[5] Dharma - Extremely complicated to explain. Here is the Wiki article.
[6] Khanda - Indian hacking sword.

 

[Orisha91]

So Paysai's on this Kesava's hit list then?

Delicious.

 

[Shahrasayr]

All right everyone, life's been quite busy of late and that's why posts have seemed to decrease in size and length as well as taking much longer.

Now that things are starting to unwind I can promise that all updates/chapters will be of a decent size (though the time between them is up for change).

So Paysai's on this Kesava's hit list then?

Delicious.

If you think this is delicious wait for the main course........

 

[Shahrasayr]

Jnaneśvara​

Khápula, Early Autumn 132 BC

The old man was deep in contemplation as his chariot went past the walls of the small keep. As he it slowly approached his destination he stretched a bit and prepared to disembark, taking off his hat.

As he got off a servant came to his aid and helped him off. He couldn't help but feel old, age slowly starting to get the better of him. The guard at the gate of his manor stepped to the side and opened the door for him to enter, instantly getting a blast of warm air.

He stepped into the warmth of his manor, walking down the steps and settling himself on the couch. As he got comfortable, a young man walked into the room and seated himself on the couch opposite Jnaneśvara.

"Ah, Pārśva how was your journey to your cold homeland? I do hope that you were given no trouble in your travels through the realm of the Yavana Rajan?"

The man tried to comprehend for a few seconds before replying to the old man in broken Gandhari.

"My journey was comfortable, Damara. There was no lack of attendance to my needs and the food was good." the young man faltered, bringing a smile to Jnaneśvara's face. The young boy he had raised had become a man. Though he could still work on his Gandhari grammar.

"Well then my son, I hope that in your ten year education at Takṣaśilā you have learnt something. The reason I called you back to Kashmir is because I need your architectural expertise. All other thinkers in Takṣaśilā refuse to consider the roving horde of Mlechchas to our north a threat and our king acts headstrong out of his malice for the nobility." he explained to Pārśva, the brilliant mind slowly taking it in, thinking of a reply.

"Lord, you know that I not consider anyone Mlechcha. All is equal if they live peaceful, our lord Mahavira has said. But if they wish to kill I shall help you protect souls from the north man. What you need me to design?"

He called for someone and a man arrived with a few tied rolls of paper. He thanked the servant and took the paper, unrolling it and handing it to Pārśva. He had it written in Paiśācī [1] so the boy would be able to comprehend it better. He watched the youth study the paper carefully, noticing that his adoptive son looked quite intrigued.

"In the Arthashastra [2], the venerable Kauṭilya wrote about six different kinds of forts and gave many variations of each of them. What your asking me to make is known as guha-durga [3] in Sanskrit, a secluded outpost. It is not common design. I can definitely draw one, but why there a need to make so cut off?" he questioned, looking up from the piece of paper.

Jnaneśvara took a sip from his cup, thinking about how he should answer. The boy had never had a head for warfare or strategy, instead more interested in numbers and such. How could he explain the power of a horde to him? To see a charging dust cloud of ferocious horsemen could break the morale of any man, even if they would outnumber the Mlechchas.

He leaned into answer, wearing a grim look on his face. "My boy, this is an enemy unlike all others we see in recent times. They fight like a shadow, coming and going like a strong wind, leaving a trail of flames and misery in their path. If we fail to defeat them in open ground we will need a safe place to retreat and carefully plan our next move. We will need a fortification which is impossible to reach if defended well and large enough to house a two hundred men."

"It can be done, but it will take time. Also you will need to spend lots of money and resources. If it is fine with you I will look for good site, so I'll survey region soon?" Pārśva said heaving and rising from his seat. He rolled up the papers and put them in his cummerbund.

Jnaneśvara looked up to see how his son had changed. He hadn't seen him for five years, and ten years before that. The boy had always been so engrossed in his studies, before he knew it he had become a man. "Oh and Pārśu, the Ṭhakkura [4] of Gallāta has invited me to a leopard hunt. I would like it if you could join us then, once you have settled on the plans, you know?"

Looking at the desperate look in the old man's eyes, Pārśva smiled and shook his head. "You know I cannot do that sir. You forbid me from taking putting on the garb of an ascetic and I listened, now allow me to live some of the vows set by divine Mahāvīra. You know well I cannot kill an animal."

"Oh well, I hoped I would still be able to persuade you. I have heard that in the foothills of the Himālayas, the area of the old Mālla kingdom, this little tradition of yours is starting to grown in popularity again [5]." the old man sighed, obviously crestfallen that he could not spend time with his heir in these late shades of his life.

He then tried to struggle out of his comfortable seat and the servant standing in the rushed to aid him up. Once he was back on his feet he put his arm around Pārśva's shoulder and slowly shuffled up the few steps of the room into the manor's main courtyard. He then stopped when he was in the centre of the courtyard to admire the finely cobbled pavilion on the floor. He remembered when he had paid the Yavana artist to come and design the beautiful mosaic floor depicting the lord Iṇdra fully ornate on top of his mount Airāvata.

"My son, you are my heir, future ruler of this little fief in the mountains. Throughout my life I have strived to do only one thing; make sure the people in my domain never have to fear the evils of war and they never go hungry. I have used methods which have forever blackened my kárma. Up in these mountains we have lived prosperous lives. Promise me you will continue to protect this land once I have been sent for another birth." he pleaded in a sad tone.

Pārśva saw the sadness in his eyes and kept his hand on the old man's shoulder. "I promise, I will be just Damara of Khapula. I promise with my heart." the young man vowed keeping his other hand on his chest.

"Good, then let me suggest you something. One krosha [6] from here there is a mountain which is reasonably flat enough for construction. Why don't you go and survey it? It might be what we are looking for."

Pārśva then bowed and took his leave, walking through the courtyard doors back into the compound, leaving the old Jnaneśvara alone in the compound. He kept looking at the mosaic as drops of rain started to fall and thunder rumbled like a horde clattering hooves in the distance.
​

​

****​

[1] Paiśācī - We aren't exactly sure what this language was, it was either another name for Pali or a different language spoken in the modern day area of Bihar and Jharkand.

[2] Arthashastra - A political and secular treatise by Chanakya, the man who engineered the entire Mauryan empire. It speaks of many subjects, from kingship to animal husbandry.

[3] guha-durga - A castle situated on a small hill or ina valley, surrounded by impassable mountains.

[4] Ṭhakkura - A feudal title. It was very common in the semi-feudal Damara system which was unique to Kashmir. I will spread throughout the sub-continent in this TL.......

[5] Another POD. Ahmisa is gaining popularity once again due to the Sunga emperors mismanagement of Buddhism

[6] Krosha - A Sanskrit measurement equal to 4 km.

I'm back. Bit of a worthless update, yet things are gearing up.

 

[Shahrasayr]

Kaotam Vimajśetra; 'There Lies the Golden Stag' (Grand Pearl Press, 2054)​

A Saddle found in the Huẉïśvima kurgan, proposed grave of the Saka chief Paśyai​

Times were turbulently changing as the ides of the 2nd century BC began. To start off, in the year 150 BC, the assorted northern Saka tribes had won their long drawn war against Keśava, the Maharājan of the Kamboja Raj. Led by their hardened chief, the long thought semi-mythical king and folk hero Paśyai, the ancient capital of Srinagar was sacked. According to contemporary sources of the time, the Saka raiders had looted the city for two entire days before they rode back to their villages laden with gold.

While much of the period is very undocumented and sources are sketchy, there is one fact historians have ascertained. The Damara system of feudalism had begun to spread slowly from Kashmir and would travel with the Sakas as they established and ingrained themselves in the political intrigues of India.

Though a few important details continue to make historians scratch their heads about the period. The most important is that why did Paśyai sack Srinagar, a city which would not regain its full glory till the days of the Trident Uprising [1], when in most folk tales and contemporary sources paint him as a very troubled man and reluctant raider? Of course extreme circumstances can make a man change his point of view and character, and we would love to know what these circumstances were that made him turn the rich city into a impoverished village.

Another important detail that is left blank in the current timeline is what happened after the end of the war. Evidence points that Keśava, himself a flawed character with an interesting story, according to local legends became an ascetic who went to meditate in the high mountains. His son Mārtanda was raised to the throne and became a vassal of Paśyai according to Damara laws. Yet that still raises the question of what happened to the chief of Sakas himself?

On 2nd June 2040, a dig in the Huẉïśvima kurgan archaeologists found the purported grave of Paśyai and in it his mummified body. After DNA tests and scans being run it was confirmed that this was most likely Paśyai and out of the entire treasure trove in his grave, only one thing stood out and could actually help explain his end; the body itself.

The mummy had many wounds all over it, quite a few of which were probably fatal. This interestingly links with a myth that a stone tablet that a stone tablet found in Śirkāp tells. It tells of an unnamed Mlechcha king that was invited to the wedding of Anūśankara (Anaxagoras in Greek, son of Milindha (Menander), emperor of the Indo-Greeks. The king arrived at venue and took part in the wedding festivities, but insulted the emperor. Milindha ordered his arrest because of the perceived insult, and the mysterious king resisted. He was apparently overrun by twelve guards who surrounded and attacked him, brutally murdering the brave king.

Until now this tablet was considered a fanciful tale, perhaps one which was used as a king to glorify some made up ancestor. But not anymore, for the pieces of this puzzle start to fall in place. Milindha and Paśyai were contemporaries (albeit one was much older than the other) and many historians say it is certainly possible that they would have had a rivalry as kings.

This is the slightest of the mysteries of this murky period of history. Historians seem to know even less about the war itself than they know about what happened after it. And this may not be such a mystery after all;
Huvishka the Great [2], first and greatest Kushan emperor of India, was known to have pillaged Takṣaśilā at least twice in his bid to conquer the lands east of the Indus. It is also recorded that he himself went ahead and chose specific texts to destroy, removing those that had dishonoured his dynasty. And it is a known fact that twelve years before the reign of Huvishka, his father Kanishka had been slain by a Saka archer by the name of Maomja.

Historians do wonder if the Kushan emperor tried to exact revenge by destroying many traces of Saka history, perhaps trying to eradicate the proof of any rightful claim of sovereignty the Sakas had over the land by destroying the records of their greatest victory. And the maybe the worst part is that it worked. Slowly this part of our history was taken out of the books and completely vanished from our memories.

Yet it's not as if historians are completely in the blue about the details of the first war of the Scythians. They have managed to assemble quite a bit of data and have information on this war.

It was apparently mostly made of minor battles and light sieges between the two sides, many of the cunning Damras changing sides multiple times throughout the war. Some were like Jnaneśvara, a man who was apparently of a great age at the start of the war. His adoptive son is quite more well known, the Jain architect and later preacher, Pārśva. Many small castles started developing around the region. These were not forts, but proper castles. The difference being that the lords and kings were expected to reside in them at all times, not only wartime.

A great contributing factor to this was also the fact that the lightning fast Saka horsemen used to raid the small villages, forcing an urbanisation as many villagers moved into these towns and castles for security. This was a defining moment in the history of the world. Feudalism proper was starting to take root for the first time.

Getting back to the war though, there is only one major battle that is thought to have happened. In a small valley near the town of Kaolkaij[3], in 2005 lots of arrow heads and spear heads were found by villagers. Eventually archaeologists found out about the site and set up a dig there. After many weeks of excavation and finds it was established that this was the site of a major battle.

The battle was named posthumously; 'The Battle of the Two Fingers', for near the stream running past the site they found a little stone tablet bearing the strange inscription "'two fingers'. Along with this was another interesting find. A Greek-style vase found not far from the battle depicted a red-haired youth in full armour brandishing a spear and mounted on a horse. There is also a small inscription which was pieced together to say 'MURAONDAI'.

This piece helped us imagine what Paśyai may have looked like and what Saka war attire was at the time. With a helmet that was reminiscent of Cyrus the Great and traditional Sakai scaled armour the man is depicted with no shield but a bow and quiver at the back of his horse instead. The spearhead also looks like that of dory carried by Greek hoplites, yet this may just be an artist's interpretation.

Alas even though this chapter of Sakai history may have been blackened out by vengeful invaders or simply forgotten thanks to the great devourer time, it set the stage for history as we know it. Who knows what the outcome of history may have been if the Saka may have lost the war, simply becoming another migrating tribe into the brilliant and exotic kingdoms of Indica.
On the other hand, the next stage of history that remains known by the entire public and one piece of history that we may never forget. The ascension of Huśva Mayao, second son of Paśyai, as Muraonda of the Northern Saka.


--------------------------

[1] Trident Uprising -Wouldn't you want to know what that is.
[2] That's right, Kanishka got the short end of the stick in this TL.
[3] Kaolkaij - Gilgit

Lots of stuff this update. Kudos to Nassirisimo who's 'Dream of the Poison King' inspired this style of writing. Don't worry I will properly document Paśyai's life and the entire struggle to conquer Kashmir proper novel style.

 

[KingofBactria]

Excellent update , I'm curious to see what becomes of that exiled roaming greek army.

 

[Shahrasayr]

Excellent update , I'm curious to see what becomes of that exiled roaming greek army.

It'll probably about another three updates till we revisit Heliocles and his band of Greeks.

Though there is one key word you guys should keep in mind regarding that; Arachosia.

 

[Orisha91]

Very nice update.

I'm thinking that since Paysai was a much more militant leader than his father, his own son has will have picked up a wealth of military skill that Mogha would have been envious of.

Can't wait to see how tough Paysai made his Saka group before he falls in battle....

Can't wait to read more.

 

[Shahrasayr]

Paśyai

A man of the Wild Hunt​

Outskirts of Kaotkvima, Middle of Autumn, 135 BC

He withdrew his sword from a body of a fallen opponent, wiping it with a cloth that he had retrieved from his baggage train. As he looked around, the result of the skirmish was clear for all to see; the Saka had won and another road into the lands of the Kambvoja was still in their control. This was the had been the third attempt to take this village by the enemy and yet they had not sent a proper army.

Walking around the fields, a shine caught his eye. He walked towards it and saw it had come from a dead foe's body. He kneeled down and surveyed the body, taking off the small golden object from a string tied to the fallen warriors waist and carefully inspecting the small golden trinket he saw.

It was a little golden statuette of a man sitting with his legs crossed and eyes closed with a smile on his face. Some brief memories of one prophecy or another came to his mind, one that his father had told him. He turned it around and had a look at the base before placing it in the dead man's hands. He feared to know how Hvakina [1] mounted atop mighty Tajhuka would disdain him if he stole from a fallen warrior, shuddering at the thought. It would be a true disgrace upon him, so much he may not be able to join his ancestors in the hunt.

Yet it would fetch it's price and it was very pretty miniature. Paśyai opened the man's hand and retrieved the tiny idol, holding it very protectively. There was just something about it alluring, not exactly the fact that it was made of gold, but something else. He put it in the sash that he had at his waist.
Paśyai got up and mindlessly ambled around. He knew eventually he would have to head back to Kaotkvima [2], but he felt too tired to ride back straight away. As cold winds blew threw the small field surrounded by massive Deodaras, he wondered why his chiefs had decided to settle a camp here of all places. This place sent shivers down his spine and the very name of the place was warning enough to not challenge the locals. As he walked the trees rustled around him, the chill winds blowing around him.

As he walked along he wondered about his foe. The king of the Kambvoja had proved a wily opponent indeed, not giving open battle to him, yet instead keeping inside his well stocked and well guarded castles. He cursed and let a blast of chilly air out of his mouth. The Saka knew nothing of how to take down the strong walls of forts. He lumbered on lost in thoughts of how to combat his enemy.

Paśyai knew that if the war didn't finish by the onset of winter the Saka wouldn't and couldn't survive. He ran his hand through his curled thick red hair as the stress and frustration mounted. A solution had to be found and it would need a miracle. He got to his horse Hujsïka and lay down on him, watching the clouds go past, deep in thought.

He sat there for a ages before cursing as he could find no solution to this great problem. Just as he was ready to mount his horse and ride into Kaotkvima, he heard the thundering of hooves in a distance. With his legs limp he staggered up, seeing two men ride up to him.

It was śyao [3] Śaoysta and the wise Pallana. He breathed a sigh of relief once he saw that Pallana was there. Śaoysta usually bought important news of strategy and affairs such as the construction of a house in Huẉïśgrutka, which had become quite large last time he was there.

Pallana usually helped him out with such things and was one man who had been by his side all his life. Right from his upbringing and education, to helping his grief stricken father live through his mother's death, Pallana had been the most fatherly figure to him, Pallana's wife Tabviti was his mother and their two sons; Otaośira and Takimaśada? They were his brothers.

"What news do you bring śyao?" he asked giving a hollow smile to the man on the magnificent white horse. Śaoysta dismounted and kneeled before him. He gave an weary sigh and tapped him on the shoulder. Śaoysta's constant compliance to tradition was quite a pain some times.

The tall and well built rider rose like the sun over a mountain, turned around and went to his saddle, retrieving a long bundle of orange silk. The silk itself seemed exquisite, but judging by the look on the face of both men, it was the contents inside this that were of value. Pallana also stepped of his horse, quite agile for a man of his venerable age.

"Paśyai, this is a gift. A gift from someone powerful, someone that will help us gain victory over the Kambvao," the wily old man said, both eyes gleaming with a look of knowledge. He beckoned Pallana to speak and share this news with him. "There is a local lord, Hvidimva [4], who has said he will declare his support for us and shall give us three hundred warriors and allow our army to safely garrison in his castle. But there remains a condition, in that in return he asks that we shall stop raiding his villages for supplies. What do you say to this offer my lord? I shall remind you that reason that we have been raiding entire towns is that we are starting to run out of supplies."

Paśyai listened and nodded, looking down and staring at the ground, stroking his scruff of a beard. The offer was very inviting, but it was not an easy one. 'If a man is fickle enough to burn all ties to his former lord and declare loyalty to another so easily, who can say that the bastard will keep his oath a second time around?'

"Pallana, seek a meeting with this man in Huẉïśgrutka. I will talk with him of friendship and loyalty there, for I cannot be sure he shall keep his word if we go to his lands. Śaoysta, come with me back to Kaotkvima and help restore some order for our warriors are weary and broken, their quivers empty and their steeds dead."

Both men nodded, bowed and mounted their horses, Paśyai following in suite, they rode off towards Kaotkvima. As the horses thundered along, Paśyai's mind began to wander. Sometimes he wondered what life would have been like if his father had not died, instead continuing to rule the tribe. Perhaps this entire war could have been avoided, after all wasn't it his own greed and pride which had started this?

Cracks were starting to show in his morality and he could feel it. 'Why did I go up and inspect that dead man's body. Looting is forbidden by Hvakina and Arimppaśa frowns upon it. Have I started to become a demon? In death will I have to roam among the Wild Hunt?' The distressed boy goaded his horse to go faster, shooting ahead of the other two men.

A cold flush came upon him and he started to feel light headed. He commanded his horse to go even faster. The memories of all the men he had slain came to him, their faces flashing before his eyes, each one having one of two expressions; fear, the want for mercy or hate, the seething hanger and disgust for him.

He leaned forward and nearly fell of his horse, his vision fading away. Almost instantly, Hujsïka came to a stop sensing that his master was in some sort of distress or the other. The young chief adjusted himself back up. That was the most terrifying experience of his life, for never had he felt, like he wished death upon himself. Another chilly gust of wind came through the forest on either sides of the road. He thought, nay, he knew spirits of the forest were angry, for he had insulted them by stealing from their descendants and they would give him no peace till he returned what was rightfully theirs.

Paśyai dismounted, staggering a bit and walked to what looked like the largest of the trees around him. He fished out the idol from his bag and nestled it at the base of the tree. He then drew his knife and made a cut on his hand, taking the blood smearing it before the idol. The troubled soul kneeled before the idol and muttered a prayer to Arimppaśa.

"Arimppaśa anaolska-ttiśā, adātta tti anaśimu muho, marṣyarä mah, mukạ anāspetä." [5]

Just as he had finished praying, the two men rode in from behind him, calling out for him.

"Ah, murundao there you are, we have been searching all over for you. Are you of a sane mind, you seemed as if you were possessed when rode of unexpectedly like that!" Śaoysta joked as he trotted in front of Paśyai.

He simply gave a deep breath before smiling and responding. "I'm, I'm feeling fine yes. I thought I saw a fine looking stag not far ahead and I rode ahead to give it chase. But the bugger's ran away so we can go back on path and continue our journey."

The response seemed enough for the two men who waited for their chief to mount before they resumed their journey. And this time around his chest felt lighter and his head clearer for all the dark thoughts that had been troubling him.

*****​

[1] Hvakina - Known as Aginos to the Greeks, this was the main war god of the Saka and hunter of the Wild Hunt, a mythical band of sinners that escaped on their way to atonement and ravage the human world. This legend will become more prominent as the Indian sub-continent becomes Sakafied
[2] Kaotkvima - The village where OTL Chilas sits, established as a small fort. Will become the second largest city in * Kashmir one day.
[3] śyao - An office equivalent to left hand or marshal.
[4] Hvidimva - Hidimba is an interesting character that we might visit. He is a snake and one of the Damaras that ultimately swapped to the Saka side, betraying Raja Kesava
[5] - "Arrimpasa of endless splendour, wrongful then unworthy I have been, forgive me for I am foolish and without haven."

 

[Orisha91]

Liking the last few updates.

Can't wait to see how Paysai gets out of the bind he's in.

 

[Shahrasayr]

Liking the last few updates.

Can't wait to see how Paysai gets out of the bind he's in.

Indeed it is quite a bind.

PTSD is a major thing and it'll torment the man for a long time to come.

 

[Orisha91]

I remember the wild-hunt being a thing in a lot of Anglo-German speaking groups.

Same idea?

If so, then that's pretty fascinating.

 

[Shahrasayr]

I remember the wild-hunt being a thing in a lot of Anglo-German speaking groups.

Same idea?

If so, then that's pretty fascinating.

Yup it's the exact same idea.

I was reading in one of my source books about how the concept was spread to Europe via Sarmatians when they began migrating into the Pannonian basin.

Since Sarmatians and Scythians were practically the same culturally, I'd put my wager on the fact that the wild hunt was a thing in Saka mythology as well.

 

[Shahrasayr]

Bvuda

The great leader and Palāka viewing the scene​

Fields of Kalhaka, Dead of Winter, 135 BC

The man took care and steadied his arrow. He cut all distractions out of his mind as his mind and eye synchronised to the painted mark; he let the arrow loose. It whistled through the air and got the partridge straight in its neck, bringing down the bird.

Two of his twelve companions gave a roar of approval and patted him on the back. He could only smile to himself. 'Well, not everyone can hit a bird at a mark of a hundred yards.'

He rode past the dead fowl and in one swift move picked it up, leaning on the side of his horse. He then put the game in the bag at the back of his saddle before riding to rejoin his comrades in their patrol. The onset of winter made it hard for such patrols to make any progress or actually even scout anything, making the entire activity seem like a big waste of time.
The men trekked on, the five of them through the snow covered, rocky hillsides of the mountains. There was an utmost silence, an uncomfortable one at that. His experience had told him that such a silence usually meant there was trouble afoot in the mountains.

"Unusually quite isn't it?" he thought out loud to no one in particular. "There should be some sort of sound echoing around these god forsaken mountains."
The man at the front of the six man scout part was the first to respond, not even turning his head to respond. "Well there should, but there isn't. I know you aren't exactly a veteran tracker or hunter but it's a quite obvious."

"Yeah boy. Don't think that you can just join the ride and expect to become a greater and respected tracker just like that. Stupidity is one thing that is not respected amongst these ranks," spat out old Palāka from next to him. "You may be an aijhhvirgka [1], but this far from the rest of the army you are equal to the rest of us."

Bvuda let the words of the old man pass him by. He knew they were simply jealous of his skill and perception. Never once had he used his blood as a tool to gain power. 'Hell, if blood and honour mattered that much to me would I have married my darling Deyki?'

He looked back to see Hvārru simply raise his eyebrows at the man trotting along in front of him before shooting a sympathetic look to him. Bvuda let a smile loose, the old man was always kind to him.

The small band continued to ride in silence through the snow capped hills of the land, not a single man making any sound. The silence was discomforting but welcomed to some extent. Bvuda wished he rather wouldn't have to talk with these rude and grizzled soldiers. He would probably get insulted even more, he thought cringing.

As their horse trotted along silently through the rugged and cold landscape, the horseman at the front came to a stop as they edged the top of this steep mount. Bvuda nearly rode his trusty steed into the arse of the horse in front of his, but reined in the horse in time. He wanted to call out to the man at the front to ask what the problem was, but then decided against it. 'Anyways, How do I even address him? Father never even told me his name, just that I should fight and serve under this man'.

"Palāka come here and tell me what you see. You've always been a better scout than me haven't you?" the leader o the band called out from in front. "Hurry up man, come here."

Palāka did as he was told with a mixed expression of surprise and curiosity on his face. The man rode out of the two line formation and rode up to the front of the formation. Bvuda couldn't see very well from here but it looked liked the bitter old man's eyes had widened considerably and he kept switching his view from whatever he had seen down in the valley at the bottom to the other man.

"I-I s-swear I had come h-here only two-- nay, three days ago and s-scouted the area for an-nything. It can't be, I swear it c-can't be," stuttered the malign old soul. "It just isn't p-possible, in the name of Hvakina it just isn't possible..."

"Ah really? You came here two days ago and surveyed the entire area properly? No, my friend. What probably happened was once again you were very drunk because you were reminiscing of the old days of raiding and pillaging under Murunda Härao, before the blessed Mogha came along and instilled some sense into our peoples. You were then shouted at by a śyao to go and do your job, doing it quite shit because you were cold drunk."

Palāka looked frightened for his life as the leader's voice grew harsher and slightly louder. The man then relented and gave another exasperated look to whatever they had seen down in the valley.

By now the rest of the men had also grown curious as to what it was and trotted ahead to get a better look. When Bvuda did so he got the shock of his life.

There were massive tents surrounded by a wall and what looked like two or three thousand men amassing outside this camp. In front of this great mass of iron, men and wood were two great obelisks, tall stones so big that they could clearly be seen from this far a distance. Suddenly the reason for the old warrior's outburst of anger seemed justified.

Another new recruit amongst the scouts, Khaodan, broke the silence. "Should we go and tell the Murundai about this? I'm sure lord Paśyai would love to know about this," he said looking at the rest of the comrades expectantly. "Plus look at it this way, they don't know that we know about them being here."

Bvuda along with five other of the new recruits in the scouting party nodded in agreement to this. Bvuda ran his finger through his tangled, coarse black hair looking at the large stones more closely.

"They look like too massive fingers sticking out of the ground." he said out loud to no one in particular.

But it seemed like his words fell on deaf ears, as the rest of the party had fallen dead quite and were looking at the leader stare young Khao down back into his place. The tension was high as the leader contemplated what do to, breathing very heavily with his eyes shut tight. He then finally sighed and opened his eyes.

"This short one may be onto something. We're going to ride back to the camp and demand a meeting with Lord Paśyai as soon as we arrive at the gates of Kaotkvima. No delaying this, I want every single one of the men present here to come and present themselves before the Murundai."

'Aye' came the chorus of voices and all men readied their horses. They would need to get back to Kaotkvima thrice as fast as they had come here and Bvuda was not the greatest of riders on this rocky and uneven terrain. He waited for the five veteran men amongst their troop to ride ahead before he too launched off towards the well defended camp. As he rode he could not help but wonder if more blood would be shed over the next few days than there had been shed over the entire war.

He ducked and wove through the snow covered cedars, all twelve men in unison. Riding hard and fast Bvuda kept steady in his saddle. As he turned around to look behind him, his eye fell on the pheasant he had shot earlier. He cursed in cold breath, watching the dead bird bob up and down. 'I was looking forward to some damn game'. He turned his head forward once more, ducking and narrowly missing a branch coming towards his face.

The young rider continued to ride at this pace for an hour, Kaotkvima coming within view of the troop soon enough. As they drew near the gate, the leader approached the guard and explained what they needed. The guard shouted orders to open the gate and leant into the ears of the man to whisper something. Bvuda continued to watch the two talking, getting prepared to greet and inform the chief. As much as he preferred to stay out of the intrigue between the two aijhysäta clans, he had picked up a few tips from his father and brother on how men behave when tensions reach a point. And by the look on the face of the guard talking to the boss, it looked like the news the Murundai was about to give them was just as bad as the news they were going to deliver to the Murundai...




[1] Aijhhvirgka - a 'Silver Wolf'. This is a cultural effect of the Saka migrations, as the tribe migrates southwards and away from people culturally Saka (let's not forget that Mogha took the smaller tribe), the Aijysata or the royal guard are forming little clans and houses reminiscent of dynasties. There are only two such clans in Pasyai's realm at the moment, the Vultures, Hayskäma and the Wolves, Virgka.

-----​

It's back.

 

[Orisha91]

Great update.

Can't wait to see Paysai's response.