After the poets had departed, the palace physician arrived, carrying the medicine prepared for the Emperor. The Queen, daughter of Malayaman, received it with her own sacred hand and gave it to her husband.

Until then, the Younger Pazhuvettarayar had been waiting patiently. Now, he seized Vandiyathevan by the hand and, not letting go, drew him close to the Emperor.

“My Lord! Is there any improvement from the new medicine?” he asked.

“The physician says there is; the Queen says so too. But, to be honest, I do not feel any confidence. To tell the truth, Commander! All this seems to be a futile effort. My fate is calling me. I feel as if Yama himself has gone to Pazhayarai in search of me. When he learns that I am not there, he will come here in pursuit!…”

“My Lord! You must not speak so despondently. You must not distress us all like this. Your noble ancestors—”

“Ah! You say my ancestors never feared Yama! If only I, like many of my forefathers, could die fighting at the frontlines of battle, I would not fear such a death; I would not lose heart. I would welcome it with joy. My great father, Rajaditya, gave up his life atop an elephant in the battlefield at Takkolam. He established the martial glory of the Chola clan forever on the field of Takkolam. He was praised as ‘the god who slept atop the elephant.’ What glory will I attain? I will be known only as ‘Sundara Cholan who slept on a sickbed’! Another of my great fathers, Kandaraditya Devar, was so devoted to Shiva that he had cast away all fear of death. He journeyed to the western coastal lands on pilgrimage and died there. He too was famed as ‘the god who ascended westward.’ I am neither a devotee like him, nor am I able to go on pilgrimage. How many more days will I lie here like this? I am a burden to all those around me!… Yet, something within me tells me that I will not remain long in this world…”

“Emperor! The palace physician assures you there is no danger. The astrologers too say there is no peril. But this young boy here was just now talking to you about some danger…” “Ah! Is this not the young man who has come from the city of Kanchi? Yes, he spoke of some danger; what was it you spoke of, my boy? Was it about my own situation?”

Vallavarayan’s mind worked at lightning speed. If he admitted that he had warned of ‘danger,’ suspicion would surely arise and he himself would be in peril. He must escape this predicament. Very well; let him try a clever ruse. With the aid of grammar, he could turn a long syllable into a short one!

“Your Majesty, the Emperor! Who am I to speak of danger? When our valiant commander, the young Pazhuvettarayar, the royal physician, and the queen herself—who is as steadfast