In ancient Tamil Nadu, it was customary to erect a hero stone and build a temple in memory of the great warriors who laid down their lives on the battlefield. If only a bare stone was planted for remembrance, it was called a “Nadukal Temple.” If, along with that, an idol of some deity was also consecrated and a shrine built, it was known as a “Pallippadai.”

Half a league northwest of the city of Kudanthai, near the village of Thiruppurambiyam on the northern bank of the river Manni, there stood such a Pallippadai temple. This was built in memory of the Ganga king Prithiveepathi, who lost his life in a great battle fought in that region.

Those familiar with world history know that certain battles—like the Battle of Waterloo, the Battle of Panipat, and the Battle of Plassey—changed the very course of history. For Tamil Nadu, the Battle of Thiruppurambiyam holds such significance. That battle took place about a hundred years before the time in which our story unfolds. It is essential that all Tamil people know its history.

After the reign of illustrious Chola kings like Karikala Valavan, Perunarkilli, Ilanchetchenni, and Thodithot Sembiyan, who ruled the Chola land with glory and distinction, the fame of the Chola dynasty waned for nearly five or six centuries. To the south, the Pandyas, and to the north, the Pallavas, grew powerful and pressed hard upon the Cholas. At last, unable to bear the harassment of the Pandyas, the Chola dynasty was forced to abandon their ancient capital, Uraiyur. Those who moved settled in the city of Pazhaiyarai, near Kudanthai. Yet, they did not relinquish their claim to Uraiyur as their capital, nor did they give up the title “Kozhi Vendhar”—the Kings of the Cock.

Among the Chola kings of Pazhaiyarai, Vijayalaya Chola was renowned for his unparalleled valor. He stood at the forefront of many battlefields and bore ninety-six wounds upon his body. Later court poets sang of him as “the victorious lord who, beyond the eight wounds, bore ninety-six more,” and “the one who wore as ornaments upon his sacred body a hundred wounds, ninety-six and more.” His son, Aditya Chola, shone as a great warrior equal to his father, earning fame in many battles.

Vijayalaya Chola, having reached old age, crowned his son and retired. At that time, enmity between the Pandyas and the Pallavas had intensified, and battles broke out frequently. During that period, the Pandya king... The name was Varaguna Varman; the Pallava king was called Aparajita Varman. Most of the battles between these two great emperors took place in Chola country. Like the rooster caught between two clashing elephants, the Chola land suffered in the midst of their wars. The people of Chola Nadu endured much hardship. Yet, Vijayalaya Chola managed to turn these wars to his own advantage. In every battle, he would join one side or the other with his small army. Though victories and defeats alternated, the spirit of war grew ever stronger in the Chola land.

All know how many tributaries branch off from the Kaveri river to enrich the Chola country. All these tributaries flow to the south of the Kaveri. There is only one river that branches off from the Kollidam and flows between the Kaveri and the Kollidam; it is called the Manniyaru. On the northern bank of this Manniyaru, near the village of Thiruppurambiyam, the final decisive battle between the Pandyas and the Pallavas was fought. The strength of the armies on both sides was nearly equal. Prithivipathi of the Ganga country had come to aid the Pallava Aparajita Varman. Aditya Chola too had joined Aparajita Varman’s side.

Compared to the Pandya and Pallava armies, the Chola force was very small. Nevertheless, Aditya knew that if the Pandya won this time, the Chola dynasty would be utterly destroyed. Therefore, like the Kaveri river merging into the vast ocean, he joined his small army to the mighty forces of the Pallavas.

Far as the ear could hear, the battlefield stretched out. The four divisions of the army—chariots, elephants, cavalry, and infantry—were all engaged in battle. When elephants clashed like mountains colliding, all directions trembled. When horses charged against each other like storms colliding, the lances in the hands of the cavalry flashed like lightning. Chariot crashed against chariot, shattering to pieces and scattering in all directions. The clash of swords against swords, spears against spears, sent out such resounding clangor that the very ends of the earth quaked. After three days of unceasing battle, the entire battlefield appeared as a sea of blood. In that sea, dead elephants and horses lay in heaps. The broken parts of chariots floated like planks from sunken ships. On both sides, tens of thousands of soldiers lay dead.

After three days of such dreadful war, only a portion of the Pallava army remained. Those who survived were utterly exhausted. But the valiant warriors of Pandya Nadu, as if blessed with a boon never to know fatigue, pressed on relentlessly. They came and attacked. In Aparajitavarman’s tent, a council of war was held. Aparajitan, Prithiveepati, and Adithan—these three kings—gathered with their commanders and discussed their course of action. They decided that it was no longer possible to stand against the enemy, and that it would be wise to retreat, to cross to the northern bank of the Kollidam.

In such a dire situation, a marvel occurred on the battlefield. Vijayaalaya Cholan, weakened by age, his body bearing ninety wounds, his legs crippled by grievous injuries so that he could no longer stand, somehow made his way to the field of war. He knew that if the Pallava army retreated north of the Kollidam, the Chola land would not rise again for a long time. The roar of that old lion, who understood this truth, breathed new life into the warriors who still remained on the Pallava side.

“A war elephant! Give me a war elephant!” he cried.

“Our entire elephant corps has been destroyed;