The astonishment that seized Parthibendran upon seeing the prince in the boat is beyond words. It was as if the very deity he had gone to worship had suddenly appeared before him, not only granting him darshan but also saying, “Ask for whatever boon you desire!” Yet, what could be the reason for the prince’s solitary arrival in this boat? What had become of the ships of the Pazhuvettaraiyars?… Not recognizing this as his own ship, could the prince perhaps have thought that this was the vessel sent to capture him?

Soon enough, it became clear that he had not come with such mistaken suspicions. As soon as the prince boarded the ship from the boat, he did not wait for Parthibendran to ask but briefly recounted the events that had transpired.

“Vandiyathevan is on the ship that fell into the hands of the Arabs. We must somehow rescue him,” he said.

The news brought by the prince filled Parthibendran with immense excitement.

“Everything has turned out well. If only that reckless youth had not acted with such haste, it would have been even better. Still, we must not let him fall into the hands of foreigners. That ship cannot have gone far; we can surely pursue and capture it,” he said. Then, calling Kalapathi, he explained the situation.

“What is there to worry about? If the wind continues to favor us like this, we can catch up by evening! Where can that ship go, escaping us? It must head to Kodikkarai and then follow the coastline, mustn’t it?” said Kalapathi.

But the will of the Wind God was otherwise. Gradually, the speed of the wind began to diminish. By midday, the wind had ceased altogether. The sea was utterly calm, without even the semblance of a wave. An indescribable sultriness enveloped everything. The Sun God blazed in the sky like a torch, pouring fire upon the sea! If one touched the seawater, it would not burn; yet, to the eye, it did not appear as a sea of water, but rather as a boiling, steaming sea of oil. Where the sun’s rays struck directly, it looked like a molten sea of fire.

The ship did not move; all the sails had been unfurled from the masts. What was the use? Just as the sound of the waves had ceased, so too had the flapping of the sails against the masts. The sails and the masts stood still, crossing— There was not even the faintest creak that arises when the planks of a ship shift. There was no sound of the vessel slicing through the sea. In truth, that silence inflicted an unbearable agony.

Added to this was the prince’s deep anguish over Vandiyathevan.

“The wind has died, and the ship has come to a complete standstill! How long will this last? When will the wind rise again? Won’t that ship escape and get away?” he asked anxiously.

Parthibendran looked at the lord of the navy.

At that moment, Kalapathi said, “The wind cannot remain utterly still for long. Somewhere, a cyclone is brewing. Soon, it will either strike us or pass us by. Whether the cyclone hits us or not, the sea is certain to rage before long. See how calm it is now? Before this night is over, we shall witness waves rising and crashing like mountains, we shall see mountains themselves, and we shall see the very depths of the netherworld!”

“If the cyclone strikes the ship, it will be dangerous, won’t it?”

“Dangerous? It would be no ordinary danger! Only if God protects us will we survive!”

“In that case, it will be difficult for us to catch that ship.”

“Prince! The sea and the wind do not show partiality. The predicament we are in now is the same as that ship’s. At this very moment, it too will be standing still…”

“If, by chance, it has gone near the shore…” the prince asked.

“If it has gone near the shore, those aboard could disembark and escape to land! But the ship itself would be gone!” said Kalapathi.

“No matter how great the danger, as long as those we care for are by our side, there is no cause for worry!” said the prince. Again and again, before his mind’s eye, appeared Vandiyathevan’s face, brimming with enthusiasm, and Poonguzhali’s face, with her frightened gaze. Where would they be at this moment? What would they be doing? What would they be thinking?

Truly, in this perilous situation, let us now turn to Vandiyathevan, whom we left behind. In the hold of the great wooden ship that had come to abduct the prince, amidst a jumble of goods, wooden planks, and bundles… Knots and in the dark room where he was confined, he lay bound to a wooden post. For a long while, he felt as though he were possessed by delirium. The thought that he had landed himself in such a predicament through his own rashness tormented him. What was this ship? Whose ship was it? How was it that some rough Arabs and the sorcerer Ravidasan were together on it? Where was this vessel headed? What would they do to him? He tried to reason it out, but nothing made sense.

All the dreams he had cherished about his future now seemed to be nothing but dreams indeed! Had he not escaped from even greater dangers than this before? Would it be that he could not find a way out of this one? At times, such doubts assailed him. Let us see; as long as there is life in the body, as long as wit and the power of counsel remain, there is no need to lose hope entirely.

With this hope rekindled, he looked around. At first, his eyes could see nothing in the darkness. Gradually, things began to take shape. He saw that, quite close to him, a variety of weapons were heaped together. Though his body was tightly bound, his hands were not