The noblewoman, Chembiyan Devi, who shone as if the very embodiment of devotion to Shiva had taken form, continued to speak:

“My son! When your father, Kandaraditha Devar, ascended the throne, the Chola kingdom was plunged into a time of great distress. You are well aware of the glory of your grandfather, Parantaka Chakravarthi. During his reign, the Chola empire stretched southward to the land of Eelam and northward to the banks of the Krishna river. Yet, in his final days, many calamities befell both the kingdom and the royal family.

Like the main host of Ravana’s army, the forces of the twin Mandalams marched upon us. The eldest son of Parantaka Chakravarthi, your great father, Rajaditha Devar—peerless among warriors—set out to confront the mighty armies of the twin Mandalams. In the north, at a place called Thakkolam, a war as fierce as that of Kurukshetra was fought. Hundreds of thousands of warriors perished. Rivers of blood flowed in torrents. The armies of the twin Mandalams were scattered and fled, but in that battle, Rajaditha Devar fell. Your uncle, Arinjaya Devar, too, fought in that war and was grievously wounded. But at that time, nothing was known of his fate.

Arinjaya Devar’s eldest son, Sundara Cholar—a mere child—had gone to war in Eelam. There was no news of him either. In those troubled times, the only one of royal blood who remained near Parantaka Chakravarthi in the Tanjore palace was your father. But your father, even from his youth, had shunned affairs of state and devoted his heart to Lord Shiva. He had no liking for war. He lamented, ‘Why should people perish in battle for the land-hunger of kings?’ He argued this with his father and brothers. He spent his days in the company of great spiritual men, in pilgrimages to holy places, and in temple worship. He did not even wish to touch weapons like swords or spears. He had no training in the arts of war or battle strategies. He believed that kingship was filled with lies, deceit, trickery, disguises, counterplots, and sins like murder.

‘What difference is there between a thief stealing another’s property and a king conquering another’s land?’ he would ask.

My son! By the decree of fate, it came to pass that your father, with such convictions, had to bear the burden of this Chola land. Parantaka Chakravarthi, worn down by the many disasters that befell the kingdom and by the death of Rajaditha, grieved himself to death…” At the expected hour, your father was summoned and told, “You must bear the burden of the kingdom.” Your father, not wishing to further wound your grandfather’s heart as he lay on his deathbed, agreed. The fortunate Veeranarayani Devi, who had married your father before me, had already attained Shiva’s feet by then. As for me, I had not even seen your father at that time. Thus, after your father’s time, your grandfather became anxious about what would become of the Chola empire. By a stroke of fortune, at that very time, those who had gone to Eezham in search of your younger uncle’s son discovered Sundara Chola living on an island there, and brought him back.

Parantaka Chakravarthi cherished Sundara Chola beyond measure. From his childhood, he had cradled him on his lap, sung lullabies, and raised him with affection. Many elders had foretold that through Sundara Chola, the Chola dynasty would attain great glory.

For these reasons, your grandfather’s love for Sundara Chola was boundless. Therefore, when your father ascended the throne, your grandfather had decreed that the title of crown prince should be bestowed upon Sundara Chola, and that only his descendants should henceforth rule the Chola land. Having declared this, he departed to Shiva’s abode. Your father told me all these details. He was determined to fulfill the wish that Parantaka Chakravarthi had expressed on his deathbed. He resolved that neither Sundara Chola nor his descendants should face any obstacle in ascending the throne.

Your father had no desire to rule the kingdom; he had no attachment to royal affairs. He was a man of great virtue. His heart, at all times and in all seasons, dwelled upon the twin lotus feet of Lord Nataraja. Therefore, he entrusted all matters of state to his younger brother Arinjaya and to Arinjaya’s son, Sundara Chola. He himself was engaged in the service of Lord Shiva. As I have told you before, he had no intention of marrying again. But I was the one who came into his life and changed his resolve. Because he knew me to be a ‘madwoman’ devoted to Shiva, he grew fond of me and married me. I am fortunate to have gained him as my husband. I must have performed penance for countless births to attain him. You, who have him as your father, are also blessed. In this world, only a rare few have beheld the Lord with their own eyes and rejoiced. Lord Shiva, mounted on his bull, appeared before your father, granted him a vision, and took him from this earthly realm. Just as I now see you with my mortal eyes, your father beheld the Supreme Shiva. To fulfill the wishes of such a virtuous soul, you and I are both bound by duty...!”

When his mother finished speaking thus, the son who had been listening began to tremble. His body shuddered; his heart seethed with turmoil.

“How can this be, Mother! My father never revealed anything to me, did he? What duty am I bound to? In what way am I bound by duty?” asked Madurantakan.

“My son! Listen! When your father attained the lotus feet of Lord Shiva, you were but a small child. Therefore, he could not disclose anything to you. But he told me before he departed. When we were newly wed, we had resolved not to desire children. Yet, in my foolishness, I could not uphold that resolve. The devotion I had for Lord Shiva in my maidenhood transformed