The streets of Pazhaiyarai that day were in a state of commotion the likes of which had never been seen before. Crowds upon crowds of people streamed towards the part of the city where the royal palaces stood. Men and women, the old and the young, youths and children, all moved in groups, making their way together. Among them were Shaivites and Vaishnavites; Buddhists and Jains mingled in the throng. Here and there, a few fierce Kalāmukha ascetics, known for their severe vows, could also be seen amidst the crowd.

Many among the people wept and wailed as they went. Some cursed the Pazhuvettaraiyars loudly as they walked. Here and there, some youths could be seen carrying sticks in their hands. From time to time, they would strike each other’s sticks, making a sharp clacking sound as they walked. Whenever the sound of the sticks echoed, some would mutter, “Strike like that on the heads of the Pazhuvettaraiyars!” while others shouted it aloud. Among those who shouted, the Kalāmukhas were the most prominent.

The façades of the principal royal palaces in Pazhaiyarai were shaped like crescent moons. All the palaces together shared a vast open courtyard in front, known as the Nilā Muttam—the Moon Courtyard. On special occasions, this courtyard was spacious enough to hold tens of thousands of people. Surrounding the courtyard on the outside was a high enclosing wall. That wall had three gates. At each gate, a few palace guards stood watch.

The surging crowds now began to gather near all three gates of the Moon Courtyard. With every passing moment, the crowd grew denser. Only the two messengers who had brought the news, along with the town servants who had escorted them, were allowed inside by the palace guards. All others were stopped and held back.

But it was not possible to restrain them for long. From somewhere within the crowd, voices began to rise, calling out, “Go inside! Go inside!” Those at the back pushed those in front. Was it not like the waves of the sea, each one pushing the next, until at last a great wave crashes upon the shore? So it was with this human sea. Those in front, pressed by those behind, surged forward, pushing aside the guards at the gates and pouring into the courtyard.

That was all it took! Just as a small breach on the banks of the Kaveri quickly widens, letting the floodwaters rush through with a roar—so too did the crowd now flood into the palace grounds. The people surged into the moonlit courtyard with a thunderous commotion. In a short while, the courtyard was filled to the brim. Thousands had gathered there.

As the crowd broke past the guards and poured into the moonlit courtyard, the uproar they caused reached the ears of Sembiyan Maadevi, who was conversing with Madurantakan. She immediately ceased her debate with the prince and moved to the front balcony of the palace’s upper floor. The moment the multitude beheld the