The next morning, Vandiyathevan was riding along the banks of the Arisil River toward the city of Kudanthai, carrying a palm-leaf letter from the Chief Minister Aniruddhar. He did not urge his horse to gallop, but let it amble gently, taking in the delightful sights that unfolded on either side of the path. In the early days of the month of Aippasi, the land of Chola was resplendent in all its glory. Nature herself, as if a queen, wore a robe of green silk and shone with the beauty of youthful maidenhood. How many shades of green adorned that silken garment! The paddy fields, ripe and ready for harvest, were of one hue; the young crops, transplanted some weeks earlier, were of another; and the newly planted, tender golden-green shoots glowed with yet another shade! The leaves that flourished on the banyan trees were one kind of green; the trembling foliage of the peepal trees, another; the lotus leaves, thick and sprawling in the ponds, held a magical green; the banana leaves dazzled with their own verdant brilliance; the coconut saplings bore a pale, ivory-tinged green; the earth itself was carpeted with fresh grass; the streams shimmered with the green of clear water; and the frogs leaping here and there in the water added their own shade to the tapestry.

To highlight the beauty of this green silk robe, blue lilies, white lotuses, red lotuses, and the crimson blooms of the Sengazhuneer flower sparkled here and there, like stars embroidered upon it. Vandiyathevan drank in all this beauty with his eyes as he journeyed on. He was keenly aware of the difference between the scenes he now beheld and those he had witnessed when he had traveled this way in the month of Aadi. Then, the river had been in spate, surging and foaming with fresh floods. Now, the force and fury of the current had subsided; the water had lost its reddish tinge, become clear as crystal, and flowed along in cheerful procession. The roar of the new flood, the tumult of the wind striking the branches, and the cacophony of thousands of birds had then sounded like the revelry of a grand festival. Today, in the cool, gentle breeze, the rustling of leaves, the gurgle of water in the canals, the varied croaks of frogs awaiting the rain, and the humming of countless insects all blended together to form a plaintive symphony, as if Nature’s queen herself was singing a sorrowful song.

Within Vandiyathevan’s heart, too, a strange, indefinable sadness had taken root. He searched and searched for the cause, but could not discern it. In truth, there was every reason for him to be filled with boundless joy— There were reasons. All the dreams he had spun when he traveled this way two months ago—every one of them had come true. Even things he had never dared to hope for, not even in his dreams, had come to pass. He had had audience with Sundara Chola Chakravarthi! He had seen the great cities—Thanjavur, Pazhaiyarai, Mathottam, Anuradhapuram, and more. He had gained the friendship of Ponniyin Selvan, the very jewel of Chola Nadu; he had earned the privilege of aiding that valiant prince. To merely set eyes once upon the goddess of beauty of Tamilakam, the radiant lamp of the Chola clan, Princess Kundavai—how many lifetimes of penance would one have to perform for that? And yet, to win the pure affection of her noble heart—what a rare and precious fortune that was! When he thought of this, his heart swelled with pride.

But mingled with that proud elation, a certain unease followed close behind. Was he truly worthy of such great fortune? Would it last? How many obstacles might arise before what was within his grasp could truly become his own?

“Ah! What dearth of obstacles is there in this world? The world itself is a maze of hindrances! Sorcerers like Ravidasan, enchantresses like Nandini, conspirators like the Pazhuvettaraiyars, treacherous friends like Kandamaran and Parthibendran, madcap women like Poonguzhali and Vanathi, fierce Vaishnavite spies, fearsome Kalamukha Saivites, ghouls with gaping jaws, and bottomless pits of quicksand—what is this world but a place teeming with such perils? O God, somehow I have escaped each of the dangers mentioned above so far! But now, Prime Minister Aniruddha Brahmarayar has sent me on a mission fraught with even greater peril than all these! On one side, the impetuous Aditya Karikalan, quick to anger; on the other, the sorceress with mysterious powers who manipulates the great Pazhuvettaraiyar like a puppet! I am to stand in the way of their designs and emerge victorious! Is such a thing even possible? Who knows what the Brahmarayar truly has in mind? Perhaps his real aim is to separate me from the princess. Both he and the princess said that Azhwarkkadiyan would join me. But I have not seen him yet!

That valiant Vaishnavite—whatever sort of man he may be, he has never done me any harm so far; in fact, he has helped me many times. If he were with me, he would keep up a lively conversation, and the journey would never grow tedious. Where now can he join me? How much longer must I rein in this horse and proceed at a slow pace for his sake?...”

“Aha! There, a cluster of trees! Those roots lying in the river’s flood, like crocodiles! It was here that the episode of throwing the spear at the wooden crocodile took place! It was here that Varini, Tharagai, Sendhiru, and Mandakini laughed aloud at our heroic deed! It was here that the young princess, out of affection for us, scolded those women! Let us pause here for a moment and look.”

Vandiyathevan dismounted from his horse and walked to the edge of the riverbank. For a while, he stood gazing at the clear stream swirling around the roots of the trees… Aha! In that swirl, a face appears! Whose face is it? Need it even be