The blacksmith was absorbed in his work for a while. Only after Vandiyathevan had knocked two or three times did he look up.

“Who are you, son? What do you want? Do you need a sword, a spear, or something of the sort? These days, there’s hardly any need for swords and spears, is there? Where do you intend to go with a sword?” asked the blacksmith.

“What is this, sir, that you say? You are working on a sword with your own hands, and yet you claim there is no need for swords?” said Vandiyathevan.

“This is just some rare job that’s come my way; someone brought in this old sword to be reforged. A few years ago, when the wars in Pandya country and the northern regions were raging, this workshop would be piled high with swords and spears, like mountains. Even when the Lanka war first began, there was brisk demand for weapons. Now, no one asks for swords or spears. People only come to sell their old swords and spears to me. Perhaps you too have come for that?”

“No, no! For a while yet, I still need my sword. Once I finish the task I have undertaken, then I’ll take up a cymbal in my hand, sing the Thevaram hymns, and set out on a pilgrimage to Shiva’s holy shrines. If you wish, I’ll bring my weapons to you then and hand them over.”

“Then, why have you come looking for me now?”

“I left my horse up on the mound. I have a long way yet to travel. I hear that horseshoes of iron are fitted to horses’ hooves to protect them. Can you do that?”

“Yes, that’s the custom in Arabia. Here too, some people have started fitting iron shoes to horses’ hooves. I have a little experience with that work myself.”

“Will you shoe my horse?”

“That will take quite some time. I must finish the work at hand before I can take up your task.” Vandiyathevan pondered; he too was weary. His horse was exhausted as well. He decided to wait a while, and then proceed, fitting armor to the horse’s hooves as they went.

“I’ll wait until you finish your work, but after that, you’ll do mine at once, won’t you?”

“What’s the trouble in that? Of course, I will!”

For a short while, Vandiyathevan watched the sword that the blacksmith was heating and hammering.

“This sword has an unusual workmanship, doesn’t it? It looks like a royal blade. Whose sword is this?” he asked.

“My lord! A little distance from here flows a river called the Arichandra.”

“I’ve heard of it too. But what of it?”

“It is my habit to go to the Arichandra river and bathe my head in its waters often.”

“A very good practice. The journey itself is a merit.”

“Therefore, as much as possible, I have resolved always to speak the truth, never to utter a lie.”

“What objection is there to that? Who