Vandiyathevan’s first thought was that, somehow, he must save Kandhamaaran. But if he tried to save him first, he knew the same fate would befall him as well. Therefore, he must first subdue this cruel guard. With that resolve, he sprang forward and wrapped one arm tightly around the guard’s neck. With his other hand, he struck the lamp from the guard’s grasp. The lamp fell to the ground. Its flame shrank, smoke billowing up and thickening the darkness. Tightening his grip around the guard’s neck with all his strength, Vandiyathevan forced him down. The guard’s head struck the wall of the tunnel and he collapsed to the floor. Vandiyathevan picked up the lamp and bent over him. The guard lay as if dead. Still, acting with caution, Vandiyathevan took the man’s waistband and tied both his hands together, binding him securely.

All this he accomplished in a matter of seconds, then ran to Kandhamaaran. He saw him lying half inside the tunnel and half outside, the knife still embedded in his back. His spear lay fallen beside him. Vandiyathevan hurried outside, lifted Kandhamaaran onto his shoulder, and dragged him out; he also picked up the spear. At that moment, the door closed by itself. The wall, concealing its great secret, stood tall and silent in the darkness. Vandiyathevan realized that he had come out of the fort and into the open air, for the strong wind that struck him was no longer confined within stone.

Dense trees and the fort’s battlements hid the moon, so its light was faint and ghostly. Hoisting Kandhamaaran onto his shoulder, Vandiyathevan took up the spear in one hand and stepped forward. Suddenly, the earth crumbled beneath him and he felt himself slipping straight down. He quickly planted the spear into the ground and, with great effort, managed to steady himself. Looking down, he saw, in the shadows cast by the trees and the fort wall, the glimmer of flowing water. He could just make out the swift current, swirling and eddying as it rushed by. What luck! One wrong step and death would have been certain. The gods had saved him! That wretched, murderous guard—but what use was there in blaming him? He had only carried out his master’s orders! Surely, the plan had been to stab him at the threshold and then push him into the floodwaters below. If his foot had slipped just a little more, both he and Kandhamaaran would have fallen into the river’s depths. Even if he had somehow survived, Kandhamaaran’s fate would have been sealed!

At one spot, Vandiyathevan knew, the wall of Thanjai fort ran very close to the Vadavaru river. This must be the Vadavaru, he thought. Though there was not much floodwater in the Vadavaru at that time, there could still be a deep pit at the edge of the fort wall. Who could say? Vandiyathevan thrust his spear into the water to test its depth. The entire length of the spear sank beneath the surface, yet it did not touch the bottom! Ah! What cruel villains these are!… But this was not the time to dwell on such thoughts. He needed to find a way to escape himself and save Kandanmaran as well.

Staying close to the edge of the flood’s current, Vandiyathevan pressed his feet firmly, careful not to slip, and walked on. On his shoulder was Kandanmaran, and in his hand, his spear. Kandanmaran groaned and gasped two or three times; these sounds from his friend gave Vandiyathevan courage and determination. After proceeding thus for some distance, the fort wall veered away, and beyond it, a forest appeared along the riverbank. The ground below was thick with thorns, making each step painful and difficult.

Ah! What was this? A tree had fallen across the river! It must have been a tall, sturdy tree. The flood must have torn it up by the roots! Half of it lay stretched into the river. Clambering onto it, Vandiyathevan stumbled and staggered along. The tree swayed in the rush of the floodwaters; its branches and leaves thrashed and writhed in the current. The wind, too, was blowing with relentless force. When he reached the tip of the tree, he tested the depth with his spear. Fortunate indeed! Murugan had protected him. There was not much of a hollow here! Vandiyathevan climbed down from the tree into the river and crossed over. Here and there, he managed the dips and rises of the riverbed as best he could. He fought against the force of the flood and the fury of the wind with the strength of his own resolve. At times, his body shivered uncontrollably.

Kandanmaran, slung over his shoulder, sometimes threatened to slip and fall. Escaping all these dangers, Vandiyathevan finally reached the opposite bank. For a short distance, soaked to the waist, he staggered along, bearing the heavy, broad-shouldered body of Kandanmaran. Then, finding a spot beneath the shade of a tree where there was a little clearing, he gently laid Kandanmaran down. First, he wanted to tend to his own exhaustion. At the same time, he wished to ascertain whether there was still life in Kandanmaran’s body. What use was it to carry a lifeless corpse? Better, as the guard had suggested, to have left it in the floodwaters. No! No! There was life—he could feel the heavy breathing, the pulse racing, the chest heaving. What could he do now? Should he draw the knife from his back? If he did, blood would spurt out in torrents. That would surely mean death. The wound needed immediate treatment and bandaging. But this was not something he could do alone. Whom could he seek for help?… The memory of Sendhan Amudhan came to him. His garden and house were on the banks of the Vadavaru… It is here. It must be somewhere nearby. If only I can somehow carry Kandhamaaran to Sendhan Amudhan’s house, there will be a way for him to survive. Let me