At the banks of the Kollidam, in the sacred bathing ghat, we left behind Thirumalaiyappan, known as Azhwarkadiyan Nambi. Now, let us turn our attention for a while to that valiant Vaishnavite.

When Vandiyathevan mounted his horse and set off towards the town of Kudanthai, Thirumalai stood watching the direction in which he departed, speaking to himself inwardly.

“This youth seems to be a most cunning fellow. If I enter through the front door, he comes in through the back. I have not been able to discover whose man he truly is, for what purpose, and where he is headed. I do not know for certain if he took part in the conspiratorial meeting at Kadambur palace. Luckily, I have told him about the Kudanthai astrologer. Let us see if the astrologer can find out what I could not!…”

“What is this, Swami! Are you talking to the peepal tree? Or are you speaking to yourself?” came a voice, making Thirumalaiyappan turn around.

It was the servant who had brought the horse for Vandiyathevan from Kadambur, standing nearby.

“My boy! Was it you who heard me? I was neither talking to myself nor to the peepal tree. There is a ghost perched atop this tree; I was having a little conversation with it!” said Thirumalaiyappan.

“Oh! Is that so? Is that ghost a Saivite or a Vaishnavite?” asked the man.

“That is exactly what I was trying to find out. But you interrupted before I could get an answer. The ghost has vanished now; let it go! What is your name, my boy?”

“Why do you ask, Swami?”

“Did you not save us from capsizing in the middle of the Kollidam? Should I not remember a virtuous soul like you?”

“My name… my name… is Idumbankari, Swami!” he said, dragging out the words.

“Oh! Idumbankari, is it? That name sounds familiar, as if I have heard it somewhere before!”

At that moment, Idumbankari did something peculiar. He placed his two outstretched hands one atop the other, palms down, and wiggled the little fingers at both ends; all the while, he kept his eyes fixed on Thirumalaiyappan’s face. “Appane! What is this sign? I do not understand it at all,” said Thirumalai.

At that moment, Idumbankari’s dark face grew even more serious; his eyebrows drew together.

“Me? I didn’t make any sign at all,” he replied.

“You did, you did! I saw it myself! In the Bharatanatyam shastra, there is a particular mudra for the first avatar of Thirumal—that’s exactly what you did!”

“The first avatar of Thirumal? What is that? I do not know, Swami!”

“You do not know the first avatar of Vishnu? Matsyavataram.”

“You mean the fish?”

“Yes, yes, that’s right, Appane!”

“Goodness, Swami! Your eyes are truly extraordinary! On a bare tree you see a ghost, and in my empty hand you see Matsyavataram! Perhaps the holy man has a special fondness for fish?”

“Tch, tch! Don’t say such things, Appane! Let that be. The Veera Saiva who came with us in the boat—did you see which way he went?”

“How could I not see? I saw him go in the direction where I went to buy a horse; he came muttering curses about you…”

“What did he say about me?”

“He said if he ever saw you again, he would shave off your kudumi right in front of you and…”

“Oh! Does he know how to do that too?”

“He said he would wipe off all the marks on your sacred body and smear you with holy ash!”

“In that case, I must definitely meet him; do you know which town he is from?”

“He himself said he is from Pullirukkum Vellur!”

“Then, I must see that Veera Saiva before I do anything else. Appane! Where are you going? Are you perhaps heading that way as well?”

“No, no! Why should I go there? I am turning back—I must cross Kollidam and head to Kadambur. Otherwise, won’t my master pluck out my eyes?”

“In that case, turn back at once! Look, the boat is about to leave!”

When Idumbankari turned to look, he saw that what Azhwarkkadiyan had said was true; the boat was at the point of departure.

“Very well, Swami! I am going,” he said, and hurried towards the ferry landing.

Halfway there, he turned to look back once more. In that brief moment, Azhwarkkadiyan had performed a strange feat. With a swift leap, he had climbed up the royal fig tree and vanished into the thick cluster of branches. Thus, he was no longer visible to Idumbankari.

Idumbankari reached the ferry landing on the riverbank. One of the boatmen called out, “Are you coming across, sir?”

“No, I’ll come in the next boat; you go on!” replied Idumbankari.

“Eh! Was it just for this? I stopped the boat seeing you rushing this way!” grumbled the boatman, and with a push of his pole, set the boat adrift upon the river.

Meanwhile, atop the royal fig tree, well-hidden among the thick branches, Thirumalai sat and mused, “Ah! My guess was right. He did not board the boat; he is indeed turning back. Now I must see which way he goes after this. I saw clearly the sign his hands made—the Machahasta mudra. What does that mean? Fish! Fish! What does the fish symbol indicate? Ah! Is it not the emblem engraved upon the Pandya banner? Could it be—aha!—could it truly be so? Let’s see! I must wait with patience. The patient rule the earth, the hasty rule the wilds… Yet, in these times, ruling the wild seems better than ruling the earth! Still, let me wait and see…”

Thus, Thirumalai spoke to the invisible demon that dwelled in the royal fig tree.

Soon, just as he had expected, it happened: the boat departed without taking Idumbankari aboard. Idumbankari, standing on the riverbank, stared intently at the base of the royal fig tree. Then he looked all around in every direction. Satisfied that Azhwarkkadiyan was