The horse that had been resting for so long beneath Vallavaraiyan was now full of renewed vigor; within the span of a single naazhigai, it had reached the gates of Kadambur’s Sambuvaraiyar Palace. Among the great clan-chiefs of Chola Nadu in those days, Sengannan Sambuvaraiyar was one. The gateway to his palace resembled the entrance to a mighty city’s fortress. On either side of the entrance, tall walls rose and curved away like the ramparts of a citadel.

At the fortress gate, elephants, horses, and bulls stood tethered; men bustled about, tending to these beasts, feeding them, giving them water. Here and there, others held aloft flaming torches, casting light all around, while some poured oil into the lamps. The whole scene was a swirl of activity and commotion. Witnessing all this, a slight hesitation and unease crept into Vallavaraiyan’s heart. “Clearly, some great event is taking place here. And I have arrived at just such a moment,” he thought. Yet, mingled with his apprehension, a keen curiosity surged within him to discover what this occasion might be.

The fortress gates stood open, but within the entrance, several spear-bearing guards stood watch. To behold them was to see the very minions of Yama, the god of death.

Vallavaraiyan reasoned that if he hesitated, they would surely stop him; it was best to boldly ride his horse straight in. No sooner had he resolved this than he put it into action. But what a disappointment! As the horse approached the gate, two of the spear-bearing guards crossed their weapons, blocking his way. Four more came and seized the reins of his horse. One among them stared intently at Vandiyathevan, while another brought a torch close, raising it high so its light fell directly on his face.

Anger flared in Vallavaraiyan’s face. “Is this the custom of your town? To stop guests at the very threshold?” he demanded.

“Who are you, brother, to speak so boldly? What is your village?” asked the gatekeeper.

“You ask my name and village? Vanagapadi’s Thiruvallam is my home. In days past, your own warriors bore my ancestors’ names upon their chests with pride! My name is Vallavaraiyan Vandiyathevan! Do you know it now?” he declared. “To say all this, did you really have to bring even a carpenter along?” said one of the guards. The others laughed at this remark.

“Whoever you are, you cannot go inside any further! All the guests who were to arrive today have already come. The master’s orders are strict: no one else is to be admitted!” declared the chief of the guards.

Noticing that some argument was taking place, a few warriors standing a little distance away inside the fort came closer. One of them said, “Hey! Isn’t that the same donkey we chased away at the festival gathering?” Another replied, “Call it a mule, not a donkey.” A third added, “Look at the way that fellow sits so stiffly atop the donkey!”

These words reached Vallavarayan’s ears.

He thought