The boat rocked merrily, as if it were a cradle swaying in the midst of the sea. It was hard to imagine that just two days ago, waves as tall as coconut palms had risen and crashed in this very place. In the boat were the prince, Ponniyin Selvan, Vandiyathevan, and Poonguzhali. The oar was in Poonguzhali’s hand, but she was not rowing with any force. She was listening intently to the conversation between Vandiyathevan and the prince. They too were careful in their speech. None of them seemed eager for the boat to hasten its journey.

Their discussion was about what they should do after reaching Kodiakkarai. Vandiyathevan was arguing that the prince should not go to Thanjavur, but instead come to Pazhayarai. He gave several reasons for this.

“Your sister wishes to see you most urgently. I have come here with the promise that I would bring you to her myself. I must fulfill that promise,” he pleaded.

“Are you asking me to disobey my father’s command just to keep your word?” the prince asked angrily.

“That is not your father’s command; isn’t it the command of the Pazhuvettaraiyars?” replied Vandiyathevan.

He added further, “Even if you are going to see the Emperor, is it better to see him freely, or as a prisoner of the Pazhuvettaraiyars? Listen to what I say. It is necessary that the news spreads that you have been imprisoned by the Pazhuvettaraiyars. All the people of Chola Nadu will rise up together. Your beloved motherland will become a terrible battlefield. Think for a moment—is that good? Perhaps it is to prevent such a calamity from befalling the Chola country that the very gods sent that cyclone. Do you wish to go against the will of the gods and bring turmoil to the Chola land?” asked Vandiyathevan.

Of all the arguments Vandiyathevan had made so far, this one touched the prince’s heart the most. If it became known that he had been imprisoned by the Pazhuvettaraiyars, unrest would surely break out in the Chola country. The people’s affection for him... He had some inkling of how grave the matter was. Therefore, the prince sank deep into thought.

After a while, he asked, “Even if I decide to grant your wish, how is it possible? Won’t the men of the Pazhuvettarayar be waiting for me at Kodikkarai?”

“To help with that, we have this boatwoman,” Vandiyathevan replied. “No matter how many men are waiting on the shore, she can take us through the woods of Kodikkarai without their eyes falling upon us. Poonguzhali! Did you hear what I said? Is it possible to do as I suggest?”

At that moment, Poonguzhali was in the seventh heaven. Having rescued the prince from the sea, brought him aboard the boat, and ferried him across, had filled her with boundless joy. Yet, the thought that she would have to part from him once they reached Kodikkarai kept returning to trouble her. What greater fortune could she hope for than to be of help to him in any way?

“If we take the boat a little west of Kodikkarai, there is a canal flanked by dense forest on both sides. We can row the boat through that way. On either side, there are marshes. No one can come there easily!” Poonguzhali said.

“After dropping us there, you can go to Kodikkarai and find out the news, can’t you?”

“I can; there are plenty of places to hide the boat so that no one can see it.”

“Prince! Did you hear that?” Vandiyathevan exclaimed.

“I heard, my friend! You ask me to enter my motherland like a thief. You ask me to hide like a thief,” the prince said.

For a while, silence settled over the boat. Then the prince asked, “Daughter of the ocean! Why have you stopped rowing?”

Poonguzhali glanced at Vandiyathevan and then began to row again.

“Poor girl! How long can she row alone? Let me help for a bit. Here, give me the oar, girl!” Vandiyathevan said.

The prince, understanding his intention, smiled.

“My friend! All your schemes are in vain. I am not going to Pazhaiyarai. I am not going to see Thanjavur either. It seems as though God Himself is about to take me away to Kailasa!” he said.

Vandiyathevan and Poonguzhali, struck with fear, gazed intently at the prince. They saw that his body had begun to tremble.

Vandiyathevan went close to him and asked, “Sir! What is this? Why is your body shaking?”

“This is the cold fever, my boy! Did I not tell you that this fever is rampant in Lanka? Don’t you remember? Those who come through this forest rarely survive!” said the prince.

Even when the mast of the ship had snapped and fallen in the middle of the sea, Vandiyathevan had not been so shaken. But now, the prince’s words had left him utterly distraught.

The oar slipped from Poonguzhali’s hands of its own accord. All the life force in her body seemed to ebb away. Only in her eyes did the light of life remain. With those eyes, she stood staring fixedly at the prince.

The prince’s shivering grew more and more intense. In a short while, his whole body began to convulse.

“Sir! What shall I do? Tell me! I don’t understand anything! Where shall I take the boat? Poonguzhali! Isn’t there a physician at Kodikkarai?” Vandiyathevan cried in alarm.

But Poonguzhali had become mute as a statue. Suddenly, the prince sprang up. His trembling body now swayed, unable to stand.

“Take me to my sister! Take me at once to the young princess!” The words tumbled incoherently from his lips.

Hearing this, Vandiyathevan was filled with elation. In that excitement, he stood bewildered, not knowing what to do next.

The prince, still shaking violently, in the next moment cried, “Akka! Here I come! I am coming to see you! No matter who tries to stop me, I will not listen anymore!” With these words,