Can two minds operate within a single man at the same time? Yes, they can—this Vandiyathevan learned from his own experience that day.

He was traveling through one of the most fertile regions within the prosperous Chola land. It was the season when the rivers brimmed and surged with fresh, overflowing waters. Through canals, sluices, and tanks, water rushed and gurgled into the channels and fields. Everywhere he looked, the land was awash with water. How fitting it was to call the Chola country “Valanadu”—the Land of Plenty—and the Chola king “Valavan”—the Lord of Prosperity!

But no sooner had this thought crossed his mind than the dangers looming over the Chola land and its king came to his memory. In such a situation, what was his duty? Was it enough to simply deliver the scroll given by Prince Karikalan to the Emperor and consider his responsibility fulfilled? Why should he involve himself in the feverish turmoil and strife of this royal succession? What did it matter to him who ascended the Chola throne? After all, were these not the ancient enemies of his own lineage? Was it not the Cholas, the Gangas, and the Vaithumbas who had joined forces to utterly destroy the Vanagopadi kingdom?

Just because Aditya Karikalan was now gracious to him, would all those injustices be wiped away?… Tch! How could those old events be called injustices? Among kings, is it not natural to wage war against one another? Likewise, is it not natural for victory and defeat to alternate? What use is there in harboring resentment against those who have triumphed? When our ancestors were in power, did they not, too, strike terror into other kings? Did they not seek to destroy them utterly?

Ah! What is that song? There—it comes to mind!

“Making the army flourish, damming the red blood, In the thick mire trampled by elephants—Manabaran, The king of kings, the Vanan, snatched away And danced upon the crowns of the three great kings!”

Thus, even our forefathers committed cruel deeds on the battlefield. The fate of the vanquished in war is always misery. Can all kings be merciful and generous like Rama or Dharmaputra? If they were so, would they not have ended up wandering the forests… They struggled! Though they were men of valor, and though they had the company of warriors, they suffered greatly. In matters of state, there can be no room for mercy. Yet, if one were to look closely, it must be said that the Chola clan possessed a certain compassion. They even sought to make friends of their enemies whenever possible. For that purpose, they would arrange marriages between clans, setting aside their own lineage. Did not Arinjaya Cholan, the father of Sundara Cholan, marry the daughter of Vaidhumbarayan? Is it not because Sundara Cholan and his children are born of that famed beauty that they shine so radiantly in their own beauty? Ah! When one speaks of beauty, the thought immediately turns to that maiden of Kudanthai… the woman by the banks of the Arisil river. The memory does not come anew from somewhere else; it has always ripened within him, deep in his heart.

While Vandiyathevan’s outward mind was occupied with thoughts of the natural riches of Chola country and the political confusions swirling about, his inner mind was wholly absorbed in thoughts of that maiden. Now, both his inner and outer minds joined together, and he began to ponder her with single-minded intensity. Thereafter, no matter what beautiful object of nature he beheld, he found himself comparing it to some aspect of that maiden. The supple bamboo reminded him of her shoulders. The blue lilies clustered in the streams became a simile for her eyes. He wondered if the golden lotus flowers could truly rival the radiance of her golden-hued face. The humming of bees among the blossoms trembling on the riverside trees—could that be likened to the music of her voice? Poets may have taught such comparisons, but where, in truth, are such things to be found? Where is the beauty of that maiden? When he beheld her face, his very skin had tingled! Even now, recalling it, his heart trembled! Yet, seeing these flowers and bees, he felt no such thrill…

Shame! We have forgotten all the teachings of our elders! In this world, there is no greater illusion than the enchantment of women. He who wishes to succeed in life must never fall into the snare of women’s allure; if he does, he is lost! Is not the story of Kovalan a rare example of this very truth? And not only Kovalan—look at the present day! Is it not for this very reason that people mock the mighty Periya Pazhuvettarayar, the greatest of warriors and the most influential man in Chola land? But the people do not know the truth. They do not know whom Pazhuvettarayar brings in that closed palanquin! So they speak foolishly. Even so, that Madurantaka Devar need not degrade himself so! Fie! To sit hidden in a closed palanquin, passing from town to town, concealed in the place of Pazhuvettarayar’s queen—is this the glory of manhood? Is this how one must win a kingdom?

Could he truly protect and preserve the kingdom he had thus acquired? Must he rely on men like the Pazhuvettaraiyars and govern the realm only by submitting to their authority? In this matter, the actions of Emperor Sundara Chola were not particularly shrewd! He ought not to have granted so much power and influence to men like the Pazhuvettaraiyars. Especially when he had two such illustrious sons? And a daughter whose intelligence and ability astounded the entire land? That maiden—the one he had seen at the astrologer’s house, the one who had spoken with him on the riverbank—whose features did her face resemble? Could it truly be so? Madness! It could never be!—But why could it not be? If it were so, there would be no greater fool than himself! No one more