As the assembly that had gathered to welcome Nambi Andar Nambi was dispersing, the Great Queen turned to her beloved son and said, “My son! I will accompany these guests up to the palace gates and see them off. In the meantime, go to your chambers, refresh yourself, and return. I must speak to you about something important!”

“So be it, Mother,” replied Madurantakan, and set off. He made his way to the part of the palace where he resided. Within him, anger and jealousy flared up like a blazing fire. What extravagant honors for some wandering ascetic and his retinue! It seemed as if his own mother was bringing shame upon the royal family’s dignity! No wonder the Pazhuvettaraiyars so often voiced their complaints about her. Anyone who arrived, smeared with sacred ash and adorned with rudraksha beads, was enough to win the Great Queen’s favor! All it took was a hymn or two sung in praise, or talk of temple renovations, tanks, and holy works, and she would be satisfied. For such people, she would lavish gifts, emptying the royal treasury itself!

As if that were not enough, there was Princess Kundavai, ever at her side. If anything remained after the temple renovations, she would spend it on establishing hospitals. If such things were allowed to continue, how would his own ambitions ever be fulfilled? How could he ascend the Chola throne and, sending forth Chola armies in all four directions, conquer the whole earth and rule under a single parasol?

And now, once again, the Great Queen wished to speak some secret to her son! Who knew what secret she intended to reveal? Perhaps she would begin discoursing on Ashtanga Yoga, on yama and niyama, on the art of meditation. Perhaps she would instruct him on how to focus the gaze upon the tip of the nose, to raise the kundalini upwards, and thus master all sixty-four arts without ever having to learn them! Or perhaps she would begin explaining the inner meaning of Nataraja’s blissful dance, what his matted locks symbolized, what the crescent moon he wore represented. With such endless talk, she had already brought him to the point where the world mocked him as half-mad. There must be no more room for such conversations. Even if she insisted on speaking, he must not listen… Let it be! Before the queen calls for me again, I must speak to that soothsayer. How did he come to know of those two mysterious matters, which no one else could possibly have known? Is it not astonishing to think of it? He must possess some extraordinary power. If he could recount past events as if he had witnessed them, could he also foretell what is yet to come? I must ask him myself.

As they were leaving the assembly, Madurantakan noticed the soothsayer standing there hesitantly, glancing about uncertainly. With a gesture, he commanded the man to follow him. Vandiyathevan’s eyes were eager to catch a glimpse of