Nandini took up that radiant sword and, with longing, pressed it to her bosom. Then, bringing it close to her face, she kissed it with her crimson lips. For a moment, it was as if a lotus blossom of fire was kissing another lotus. In the next instant, it seemed as though a blood-red armored cloud was trying to block the full moon. Nandini’s face now resembled the fierce and beautiful visage of Kali, the goddess to whom the Kapalikas offer blood sacrifices. But when she set the sword down beside her as before, her face regained its former enchanting allure.

“Yes, this sword is the omen the gods have given me. But I do not yet know the meaning of that omen. I frequently send this sword to the blacksmith’s forge, to have it cleansed, tempered, and sharpened. I guard it as a tigress would protect her cub. Before the cub comes of age, it must not fall prey to the wild buffaloes with their long horns, must it? Just as the Arabs cherish their horses with tender love, so do I safeguard this sword. As Vanamadevi serves the ailing Emperor Sundara Chola, so do I serve this sword. The gods have not yet revealed to me what I am to do with it. Is it their command that these hands, accustomed to weaving garlands, must one day drive this sword into the venomous heart of some wretch? Or is it the divine will that I must turn this blade upon my own breast, letting my blood gush forth and smear these limbs adorned with silks and jewels, and thus meet my end? I do not yet know. The deity who gave me this sword will, when the time comes, reveal that too. Since I do not know when that moment will arrive, I remain ever prepared, day and night, at any hour.

Yes, it is well known throughout the land that the young queen of Pazhuvur, famed for her beauty, delights in fine garments and ornaments. All sixty nazhigais of day and night, I adorn myself, beautifying this body. Alas! Periya Pazhuvetaraiyar, for his sake and for the sake of his honor, rejoices in the thought that I am always resplendent, ever adorned! He does not know of the fire that burns unceasingly in my heart!” Vallavarayan, who had been listening to all this as if in a trance, regained his self-possession and asked, “Lady! Where is Periya Pazhuvetarayar?”

“Why? Are you afraid to meet that old man?” asked Nandini.

“No, Lady! I am not afraid to see you—why should I fear Pazhuvetarayar?” replied Vandiyathevan.

“Ah! That is the reason I like you. For some reason, everyone seems to be afraid of me. Even the mighty Periya Pazhuvetarayar, a warrior among warriors, who has fought in countless battles and bears sixty-four scars upon his body, trembles when he sees me. Chinna Pazhuvetarayar—Kalanthaka Kandar, who could strike terror even into Death itself—shudders when he comes near me. Even Madurantaka Devar, who aspires to rule this Chola kingdom as a sole emperor, approaches me with fear and reverence. Sundara Chola Chakravarthi himself, who stands at the threshold of Yama’s world, trembles if I come near him. Every time he sees me, he falls into a swoon. And today, Parthibendra Pallavan came, did he not? I have heard much of his fearless heart and his valor. I know well that he is the dearest friend of Aditya Karikalan. Yet, within half an hour of coming near me, see how subdued and docile he became! He forgot even his urgent duty to go to Aditya Karikalan, and follows me instead. He is ready to fulfill, with his head, any task I set with my foot. Yet, when he comes close to me, he trembles. When I see that, I am reminded of something from my childhood. When I was a little girl, I was always fascinated by fire. I would go near it, longing to touch the flame. I would stretch out my finger, eager to touch it, but courage would fail me. I would snatch my finger back in an instant. I have done this so many times. When I see Parthibendran approach me and then shrink away in fear, that old memory comes to me. And it is not just the Pallavan. The very prince for whom you carry a letter from Kanchipuram—Aditya Karikalan—is the same. Since our childhood, he has had an immeasurable longing for me, and along with it, a fear. How much my life has changed because of that! Sir, when you meet your master again, will you give him a message from me? Tell him, ‘I have forgotten all that has passed. Now, I am the Queen of Pazhuvur, bound to him by the ties of marriage. He need not fear to see me. I will not bite and swallow him whole!’ Will you say this for me?”

“Devi! It is not certain that I will return alive and see Aditya Karikalan again. If I do see him, there are so many messages I have to convey. But I cannot promise that I will deliver your message. Please forgive me!”

“Yes! Of all the people I have met, you alone are truly courageous. You speak without hiding what is in your heart. That is why I like you. Brave warrior of the Vanar clan! I do not meet many people. Unlike the young princess of Pazhayarai, I do not travel in chariots. If I must go anywhere, I go in a closed palanquin. If I need to accomplish something through someone, I see only those people. Most of them are cowards. They do not dare to speak what is in their hearts. But you—whatever arises in your mind, you say it without concealment…”

“I have learned, Queen, that there is no use in hiding anything! There is no secret in any man’s heart that your eyes cannot pierce and discover!”

“That may be true. But I