For a while, those gathered there were engaged in heated discussion, voices rising and falling as they debated amongst themselves. So many voices mingled together that Vandiyathevan could not make out a single word clearly.

In a loud voice, Sambuvaraiyar said, “Should we not give a reply to what the Lord of Pazhuvur has asked? What is the use of talking in circles? The third watch of the night has already begun. Look, the moon has risen as well.”

“I have a doubt. Perhaps some others here share the same doubt as I do. If the Lord of Pazhuvur will not take offense, I wish to ask about it!” said the deep, gruff voice that had spoken earlier.

“It is Vanangamudiyar speaking now, isn’t it? Let him come forward into the light!” said Pazhuvetaraiyar.

“Yes, it is I. Here, I have stepped into the light.

“It is my custom to show all my anger only on the battlefield, and only to my enemies; never to my friends. So you may ask me anything you wish, without hesitation.”

“In that case, I will ask. The accusation that Pazhuvetaraiyar levels against Sundara Chola Maharaja—some people are now leveling that same accusation against Pazhuvetaraiyar himself! I do not believe it myself, but at a time like this, I wish to ask and clarify!” said Vanangamudiyar.

“What is it? How so? You must explain in detail.”

“It is known to all of us that two years ago, the Lord of Pazhuvur married a young woman…”

At this point, Sambuvaraiyar’s voice rang out, tinged with anger, “We object to Vanangamudiyar speaking about this matter. To question our great leader, our chief guest, in this untimely manner is most improper…”

“I must earnestly request Sambuvaraiyar to be patient. Let Vanangamudiyar ask whatever he wishes, freely. It is better to clear up what is in one’s mind than to let it fester. At the age of fifty-five—” It is true that I married a woman. I admit that freely. But I have never gone around proclaiming myself as the incarnation of Rama in this Kali Yuga. I have never claimed to be a man devoted to a single wife. I loved that woman; she loved me in return. According to the ancient customs of Tamil Nadu, we married for love. What fault is there in that?”

“There is no fault at all!” several voices rang out.

“I did not say that marrying was a mistake either. Who among us here is truly devoted to only one wife? But… but…”

“But what! Speak your mind without hesitation!”

“Some say that the young queen whom you married now has a say in all your affairs, that even in matters of state you seek her counsel. They say you take her with you wherever you go.”

At this, a ripple of laughter spread through the gathering.

Sambuvaraiyar sprang up and shouted, “Who laughed? Step forward at once and explain the reason for your laughter!” As he roared, he drew his sword from its sheath.

“It was I who laughed! Do not be alarmed, Sambuvaraiyar!” said Pazhuvettarayar.

Then he continued, “Vanangamudiyar! Is it a crime to take my wedded wife with me wherever I go? It is true that I have taken her with me to many places. But the claim that I consult her in matters of state is mere slander. That is something I have never done, not even once…”

“If that is so, then I beg you, Pazhuvoor Thevar, to clear up just one more doubt. Why is the palanquin, which ought to remain in the women’s quarters, here in this place where we are holding a confidential council? Is there someone inside the palanquin, or not? If not, then from where did those sounds—the thud we just heard, and the jingling of bangles—come?”

As Vanangamudiyar asked this, a strange silence fell over the assembly. Since the same thought and question had arisen in many minds, no one dared to speak against Vanangamudiyar at once.

Sambuvaraiyar’s lips moved in a mutter, but no words emerged from his mouth.

Tearing through that silence, Pazhuvettarayar spoke in a deep voice: “A proper question; I am bound to give an answer. Before this assembly disperses, I will resolve your doubt. Can you wait for just half a nazhikai more? You do have that much trust in me, do you not?”

“Yes, yes, we have complete faith in Pazhuvettarayar!” cried many voices in unison.

“No one should think that I have less devotion or respect for Pazhuvettarayar than the rest of you,” said Vanangamudi Munaiyarayar. “I asked, as he himself invited us to speak openly. Otherwise, I am ready to obey any command he gives. Even if he were to ask for my life at this very moment, I am prepared to give it!”

“I know Vanangamudi’s heart. I know the trust all of you have placed in me. Therefore, let us first decide the matter for which we have gathered today. May Sundara Chola Maharaja live long and rule this Chola Empire for many years to come. But if, by chance, something happens to him—if the words of the physicians come true, if the omens that have appeared these past days, like the comet, prove portentous—then we must determine who is next entitled to the throne of the Chola Empire.”

“We request that you express your opinion on that matter. There is no one in this assembly who would speak against your view.”

“That is not right. Each one of you should think carefully and express your own opinion. I wish to remind you of some old events. The great warrior, the great sage, the virtuous Kandaraditya Devar, passed away unexpectedly twenty-four years ago. At that time, his son, Madurantaka Devar, was but an infant of one year. Therefore, Kandaraditya’s younger brother, Arinjaya Devar, was to ascend the throne. This was conveyed to us by his own dharmapatni and chief queen, Chembiyan Mahadevi. Accordingly, we crowned Arinjaya Chola and seated him