"In the court of power, words draw blood long before swords."
For two weeks, the palace corridors whispered the same name: Harivarman.
The Minister of State had begun his campaign in the oldest way possible — with smiles.
He invited scholars to dine, sent gifts to the priests, praised the king's taste in advisers, and, always, mentioned Vishnugupta's name just enough to make it sound dangerous.
So when a gold-embossed invitation reached Vishnugupta's chamber — To dine and discuss philosophy with His Majesty's ministers — Karkotaka only laughed.
"A dinner," the spy said. "How polite of them to poison you with words instead of wine."
"Let them try," Vishnugupta said calmly, folding the parchment. "A serpent's bite is small, but it leaves a memory."
---
The banquet hall of Pataliputra glowed that night with a hundred lamps. Polished bronze reflected the guests' laughter; incense veiled the air with sweetness. Long tables curved like crescents, set with silver plates and wine jugs shaped like lotus buds.
King Dhanananda sat at the head, relaxed, watchful. On his left, Harivarman — tall, sharp-featured, draped in crimson silk — smiled as though he owned the room.
Vishnugupta entered quietly, wearing the plain white of a scholar. His simplicity drew more eyes than silk ever could.
"Ah," Harivarman said smoothly, rising to greet him, "the young philosopher who teaches us that power is nothing without wisdom."
"And who learns," Vishnugupta said, bowing, "that wisdom often hides behind power."
The exchange drew a murmur.
Dhanananda gestured for them to sit. "Tonight, we eat with our minds as well as our mouths. Harivarman tells me he has prepared a little discussion."
The minister inclined his head modestly. "Only for the pleasure of Your Majesty's court. We scholars grow dull without debate."
Vishnugupta said nothing.
Servants poured wine. The first dishes came — lentils, rice, fragrant stews — but no one ate much. Words were the true meal.
Harivarman began with a smile. "Tell me, Brahmin. You speak often of justice in governance. What, in your view, is a just tax?"
Vishnugupta looked around the table. "A just tax, my lord, is one that feeds both the treasury and the conscience."
The courtiers chuckled. Harivarman's eyes glinted. "Ah, so you would have kings rule with pity?"
"With understanding," said Vishnugupta. "Pity is for beggars. Understanding is for rulers."
The laughter shifted — some toward him now.
Harivarman leaned forward. "And if understanding leads a king to take more from his subjects than they can give?"
"Then he understands less than he thinks," Vishnugupta replied.
The king's faint smile did not fade.
Harivarman's tone sharpened. "You speak boldly for one who eats from the same treasury."
"I speak carefully for one who eats from it honestly."
The laughter this time was loud — too loud. The minister's hand clenched slightly around his goblet.
Dhanananda raised a hand, still amused. "Let us not choke on philosophy. But perhaps, Harivarman, you have another question?"
The minister nodded slowly. "Indeed, Majesty. A riddle, if the Brahmin will indulge me.
If two men claim to serve the same king, but one seeks truth and the other seeks favor — which serves better?"
Vishnugupta tilted his head. "That depends. Does the king prefer truth or flattery?"
The court went utterly still.
Then, Dhanananda laughed — once, sharply. "Clever. You dodge the blade with wit."
"I only move where the blade points, Majesty," Vishnugupta said softly.
Harivarman's eyes darkened. "And if truth offends the throne?"
"Then the throne should learn to sit on stone, not pride."
The words hung like smoke in the air.
Dhanananda studied him, expression unreadable. "You risk much with that tongue, Brahmin."
"Truth is risk," Vishnugupta said simply.
The king's smile returned. "And risk makes court life interesting."
Harivarman forced a chuckle. "Indeed. The Brahmin wins tonight's debate, it seems."
But as the laughter resumed, his gaze lingered on Vishnugupta with the cold weight of unfinished business.
---
Later that night, as the palace quieted, Karkotaka emerged from the shadows of the scholar's chamber.
"You survived the feast," he said. "The king laughed. That's good. The minister glared. That's better."
"He overreached," Vishnugupta said. "He wanted to shame me in public. Now he's the one who looks small."
"Careful," Karkotaka warned. "Cornered men bite hardest."
"I'm counting on it."
He spread a scroll across the table — the latest diagram of the court's hierarchy. Harivarman's name sat near the top, connected to half the palace.
Vishnugupta took a brush and drew a single thin line — from the minister's name to the king's steward, Sudhakar.
"He controls the flow of tribute," he murmured. "But if someone were to… misplace a few ledgers, perhaps the king's trust would waver."
Karkotaka grinned slowly. "So the serpent plans to shed its skin and crawl higher."
"Not yet," Vishnugupta said. "First, let the minister make his next move. Every trap reveals its maker."
---
The next morning, the court buzzed.
A rumor spread — that the eastern tribute had gone missing. Harivarman protested his innocence, but Sudhakar whispered differently. By noon, the king's face was thunder.
Vishnugupta said nothing.
When the king summoned him privately, Dhanananda's tone was half amusement, half suspicion.
"You were quiet at council today," he said.
"Silence is a luxury of those who are listened to," Vishnugupta replied.
The king's eyes narrowed, then softened. "Tell me truthfully — do you think my ministers are loyal?"
"I think loyalty is often the last thing a man offers, Majesty. After wealth, after comfort, after survival."
"And you?"
"I offer usefulness."
Dhanananda smiled thinly. "That may be the only loyalty worth having."
---
When Vishnugupta left the chamber, he found Karkotaka waiting in the outer corridor.
"Well?" the spy asked.
"The king will watch Harivarman more closely now," Vishnugupta said. "He'll believe he uncovered the minister's weakness himself. That's how trust begins."
Karkotaka chuckled. "You don't play the game, Brahmin. You rewrite it."
Vishnugupta looked back toward the closed throne room doors. "No. I'm only learning the rules. The real game hasn't started yet."
---