Vandiyathevan slept through the night like a log and awoke only after the sun had risen in the morning. Even after opening his eyes, he lay there, reluctant to get up. The breeze from above blew briskly, and the branches and leaves of the trees and shrubs rubbed against each other, producing a soft, continuous ‘sho’ sound. In harmony with that natural music, the sweet voice of a young boy sang a Thevaram hymn of Sundaramurthi Swamigal in a melodious tune:

“O golden-hued one, who girds the tiger skin about your waist, O wearer of the radiant konrai blossoms upon your shining, ruddy locks!”

Hearing this, Vandiyathevan opened his eyes and looked around. Before him, in the flower garden, the konnai trees displayed their golden blossoms, swaying gently. Sendhan Amudhan, holding a basket in one hand and a sickle in the other, was plucking konrai flowers while singing, his voice rising with the morning. Having risen early, bathed, and smeared himself with sacred ash, Sendhan Amudhan resembled the devoted Markandeya himself. As he listened to the boy’s sweet and melodious voice, Vandiyathevan thought with a tinge of envy that his own mother had not given him such a gift. Why could he not, like Amudhan, tend a flower garden, serve Lord Shiva, and spend his days in bliss? Why must he wander from town to town, sword and spear in hand? Why must he always be prepared either to kill or be killed? Such thoughts arose in his mind.

But soon his mind changed. Could everyone in the world become a devotee of Shiva like Sendhan Amudhan? Thieves, robbers, tricksters, and those who found joy in tormenting the innocent would always exist. There must be a government to restrain such people and establish justice and dharma. To run a government, there must be kings and ministers. To protect them from danger, there must be guards and soldiers. And for kings, there must be messengers like himself to carry their letters… Yes! Today, he must see Emperor Sundara Chola at any cost. He must see the Emperor before Periya Pazhuvettarayar returned; otherwise, it might become impossible…

After bathing in the lotus pond beside the flower garden, Vallavarayan adorned himself with his finest clothes and ornaments, dressing with great care. Could he go to meet the Emperor in an ordinary manner? For this— Did he adorn himself simply out of habit, or was it because the thought of seeing the young mistress of Pazhuvoor once again lingered in his mind that day? We cannot say for certain.

After the morning meal, when Sendhan Amudhan set out with a basket of flowers for the midday pooja service, Vandiyathevan too departed, intending to seek an audience with the Emperor. The two of them walked together. Vallavarayan had already decided not to take his horse inside the fort. It was necessary to give the animal ample time to rest. Who could say—he might need to use it for a swift journey at any moment. In