In the heart of the forest, around a dried-up pond, trees had grown in a curved formation, leaving a clearing in their midst. In that open space, about a thousand Chola soldiers had set up camp. For their meal, enormous cauldrons were set atop blazing fires, and within them, vast quantities of rice bubbled and boiled. In pots and pans, various dishes were being cooked. The aroma rising from these vessels made the mouths of the soldiers water. While the rice finished cooking, the men passed the time in song, dance, and playful games.

At that moment, their beloved young prince arrived among them, and the soldiers’ excitement knew no bounds. The commander of the border guard had to exert considerable effort to restore order among them. He arranged for everyone to sit quietly, in a semicircle shaped like the crescent moon. A massive tree had been felled, its base left protruding slightly above the ground. The prince came and seated himself upon this natural throne. Now, he was not dressed as an elephant driver. Upon his head was a golden crown, armlets adorned his upper arms, pearl necklaces graced his chest, and a silk sash was tied around his waist.

Around him sat the commander of the border guard, Vandiyathevan, and Azhwarkadiyan.

To delight the prince, a performance of the “Elela Singan” historical play had been arranged. At this time, the Chola soldiers held a large portion of Lanka, but a thousand years ago, Tamil warriors had once conquered the island. Then, the leader of those Tamil warriors was Elela Singan. Driven out by him, the king of Lanka had hidden for a time in the hill country. That king’s son was named Dushtakaman. He was a fierce warrior, who long dreamed of reclaiming Lanka from Elela Singan.

When Dushtakaman was a young boy, one day he lay curled up in bed, his arms and legs folded tightly against his body. His mother asked, “Child! Why are you lying there all curled up? Why not stretch out your arms and legs and sleep comfortably?” Dushtakaman replied, “Mother! On one side, the Tamil warriors are pressing in on me, and on the other, the sea is crowding me. What can I do? That’s why I’m lying curled up like this!”

Such was the warrior who, upon reaching manhood, gathered an army and marched... They scattered and fled in utter disarray. At that moment, Dushtakaman devised a clever stratagem. He went directly to where Elelasingan stood, faced him squarely, and declared, “O King! Before your mighty army, my small force has been routed and has fled. I alone remain. You are born of a pure warrior lineage. Therefore, I challenge you to single combat with me. Let the kingdom of Lanka belong to the victor between us; let the other attain the warrior’s heaven!”

Such courage and valor in Dushtakaman greatly astonished Elelasingan. Thus, he agreed to fight him in single combat. He gave strict orders to his own warriors not to interfere in any way. The duel commenced. Hearing of this, Dushtakaman’s scattered soldiers returned and gathered to witness the contest. All watched with bated breath.

The battle raged on for a long time. Dushtakaman, eager to reclaim his birthright, fought with fierce determination. Elelasingan, however, felt compassion for the young man and did not use his full strength in the fight. As a result, Elelasingan was slain. When Dushtakaman was crowned king, he built a memorial temple at the very spot where Elelasingan had fallen, honoring his valor and magnanimity.

This rare episode from history was enacted as a dance-drama by the Chola warriors before Prince Ilango Arulmozhivarman. Song and dance mingled with the mock battle. The warrior who played Elelasingan’s death enacted the scene with such realism that it seemed as if he had truly fallen dead on the spot. The prince and the other warriors, watching, frequently exclaimed in delight and admiration.

While the play was in progress, at one point the prince turned to Azhwarkadiyan and asked, “Thirumalai! In the Thambalai cave temple, there is an imperishable mural depicting the battle between Dushtakaman and Elelasingan. Have you seen that painting?”

“No, my lord! As we were passing through the streets of Thambalai, I caught sight of you. I did not have time to enter the cave temple,” replied Azhwarkadiyan.

“Ah! You must certainly see the sculptures in those cave temples! Thirumalai, our land of Tamil Nadu has countless sculptures and paintings. Yet, even greater marvels are to be found here on this island of Lanka,” said the prince.

“Prince! The sculptures and paintings of this land will not vanish anywhere! You can see them whenever you wish. But seeing you is not like that, is it? Only because we arrived at the right moment were we able to meet you. Parthibendran Pallavan, who came here before us, searched for you and, not finding you, was on his way back. We met him on the way,” said Azhwarkkadiyan.

“Yes; even the commander told me that my brother’s dear friend came searching and left. Can you guess why he might have come?”

“I can say for certain. Aditya Karikalan has sent him to bring you to Kanchipuram.”

“Ah! You seem to know everything! Now, since your friend has brought me here so safely and handed me over, perhaps you also know what is written in this palm-leaf letter?”

“Your sister has written, asking you to come to Pazhayarai at once. Prince! When Princess Kundavai secretly wrote this letter and gave it to our valiant Vanar clan warrior, I was hiding in the nearby hut, watching everything…”

From behind Thirumalai, Vandiyathevan pinched him hard on the back.

Azhwarkkadiyan slapped his own back and said, “What a wicked forest! Even at night, the insects bite!”

The prince, with a hint of annoyance, said, “Tch, tch! What is this? Have you started showing off your cleverness in my dear sister’s name?”

“It is only because I saw it with my own