On the seashore of Mamallapuram, there are many small rocks scattered about. At times, the sea swells and its waves crash upon those rocks. At other times, the sea recedes, giving the rocks a chance to dry under the sun. Not even a single one of those small rocks was left untouched by the master sculptors of Mamallapuram. According to the nature of each stone, they imagined grand or delicate scenes and carved upon them imperishable sculptures.

It was to such a place, where two small rocks stood facing each other, that Aditya Karikalan and his two companions came. They alighted from their chariot and walked towards the rocks. Considering the two stones as twin thrones, Karikalan and Malayaman seated themselves upon them. Parthibendran stood a little apart from them. Waves frequently rolled in, wetting them up to their knees. Sometimes, the spray thrown up by the waves as they struck the rocks would shower upon them like a rain of pearls. A little distance away, boats moved in rows, slicing through the sea, laden with various goods. Men were unloading these goods from the boats and transferring them onto large wooden ships anchored nearby.

“My heart boils when I think that all the goods we have gathered for the twin-pronged invasion must be sent to Lanka!” said Parthibendran.

“What of it?” replied Aditya Karikalan. “The brave warriors conscripted from Chola land are in Lanka. They are winning victory after victory on the battlefield. They have captured Anuradhapura, where the kings of Lanka have ruled for a thousand years, and have planted the flag of triumph there. Should such warriors be left to starve and die?”

“Who said they should be left so?” asked Parthibendran. “Of course, food supplies must be sent. But they should be shipped from Nagapattinam port in Chola land, or from Sethukarai in Pandya country. What need is there to send them from this arid Thondai region? I only spoke thinking that this would hinder our own plans to march north with our army!”

“When I think of it, my heart too burns with rage. I cannot fathom what those wretched Pazhuvettaraiyars truly intend. How much longer are we to endure all this? Grandfather! Why do you sit there, lips sealed, saying nothing? Please, open your mouth and speak!” demanded Karikalan.

“My child! These waves of the sea never cease their roaring. Competing with the sea’s tumult, your friend Parthibendran too shouts at the top of his voice. Amidst all this, what am I to say? Age has rendered me feeble…” replied Malayaman, the Lord of Miladu.

“Parthibendra! Be silent for a while. Let Grandfather express his thoughts,” said Aditya Karikalan.

“There, I have shut my mouth. Poor Grandfather! In his advanced age, he has come all the way down from his mountain fortress, enduring so much hardship. How can I speak before him? This sea, however, has no sense at all! It rages on without pause! There is no one to restrain it. It seems our mountain king holds no fear for the lord of the ocean!” said Parthibendran.

“Brother! Parthibendra! There was indeed a time like that. At the mere mention of the name ‘Thirukovalur Malayaman,’ every king in this land would tremble. The Chalukyas of the twin provinces, the Vanakovarayar of Vallam, the Vaidhumba Rayars, the Gangas, and the Kongas—at the sound of the Malayaman name, they would cower like snakes hearing thunder, hiding in their holes. Even the lord of the ocean would keep himself subdued. But now, as this body has grown weak, all have begun to leap and prance. The Pazhuvettaraiyars, who came from the west only yesterday, now seek to cast aside me, a man of a clan a thousand years old! That shall never come to pass! Karikala! You said a moment ago that you do not know the true intent of the Pazhuvettaraiyars. I shall tell you what it is—listen! Their aim is to weaken you and your brother separately. In Lanka, your brother Arulmozhi must suffer defeat, and thus be shamed. Here, you must be made to grow angry with your brother. The two of you must quarrel. And this old man must be made to suffer at the sight! That is their secret purpose…”

So spoke Miladudaiyar with rising fury, when Karikalan interrupted him.

“They will never succeed in that aim, grandfather! No one can ever separate my brother and me. I would give my life for Arulmozhi. Time and again, I feel—should I board a ship and go to Lanka myself? Who knows what hardships he is enduring there! And here I am, living in comfort, eating well, wearing fine clothes, sleeping in the palace, letting the days slip by. My sword and spear are gathering rust. Every moment feels like an age to me. I cannot bear to stay here any longer. Grandfather! Tell me! Shall I board one of these ships loaded with goods and sail to Lanka as well?” asked Karikalan.

“Your Majesty! A splendid idea! You have spoken what I have been thinking for many days. Let us set out, come! There is no use in asking the old man for his opinion. If you ask him, his wisdom will only say, ‘No, wait!’ We can leave as soon as tomorrow. We can take half the Thondai Mandalam army with us. We’ll finish the war in Lanka one way or another, then come straight to Nagapattinam and land there. From there, we’ll go to Thanjavur and teach those Pazhuvettarayar a lesson…” Parthibendran said, pounding his fist in excitement.

“Karikala! Did you see? What did I say at first? Didn’t I tell you I would only speak if he kept his mouth shut?”

“Here, I’m shutting my mouth, grandfather! Say all that you wish to say!” Parthibendran said, clamping his mouth shut with his hand.

“Karikala! You are a hero among heroes. Not many as valiant as you have been born even in this land of valorous Tamils. In my eighty