That evening, the front entrance of Kadambur Sambuvaraiyar’s palace witnessed a spectacle of wonders never before seen. As far as the eye could see, crowds upon crowds of people pressed together in a dense throng. Men and women, boys and girls, the elderly and the young—every age and kind were present in that gathering.

Old men and women, unable to stand firmly on their own, leaned on their staffs for support. Unmindful of being jostled and pushed by others, they swayed and struggled, driven only by their eagerness to behold the heroic visage of Aditya Karikalan. Children, heedless of being squeezed in the midst of the crowd, pushed and shoved, striving to reach the front. Young women, casting aside their natural shyness, struggled and fought their way forward through the mass of unfamiliar men, determined to catch a glimpse of the prince.

The young men, for their part, paid not the slightest attention to these maidens, not even sparing them a sidelong glance. Their sole concern was to secure a vantage point from which they could clearly see the prince. Many of them had climbed up the trees that lined the palace’s front and sides. Still others tried to scale the outer walls of the palace, only to be pulled down and pushed away by the palace guards.

Young mothers, with green infants perched on their hips, endured many hardships in that crowd, yet remained steadfast. When their children cried, the mothers soothed them, saying, “My dear! Don’t cry! The greatest of all heroes in valiant Tamilakam, the one who slew Veerapandiyan—Aditya Karikala Chozhar—is about to arrive! If you are blessed to see him, one day you too will become a hero like him!” In this manner, lovers spoke to their beloveds, mothers to their children, all speaking of Aditya Karikalan.

Thus, the heroic fame of Aditya Karikalan had spread far and wide throughout the land in those days. Who could remain indifferent to seeing the prince who, at the age of twelve, had entered the battlefield, sword in hand, and felled many foes; who, at the battle of Sevur, had routed the Pandya army, forcing Veerapandiyan to flee into the desert and hide in a rocky cave; who, at nineteen, had shattered the Pandya rescue force, tracked down Veerapandiyan’s hiding place, and returned with his severed head? Who would not yearn to see such a prince?

For the past three or four years, countless rumors had circulated about this heroic prince. Some said that after Aditya Karikalan’s coronation as Crown Prince, a rift had arisen between Sundara Chola the Emperor and his son, and that the Emperor did not wish for Aditya Karikalan to ascend the throne after him. Others claimed that, just as once in the past a Pallava prince had established an independent kingdom in Kanchi and founded the great Pallava dynasty, so too did Aditya Karikalan desire to establish a separate rule in Kanchi. Some said that the Emperor showed more affection and partiality towards his younger son, Arulmozhi Varman, and that this was the cause of Aditya Karikalan’s anger. Yet others denied all this outright, insisting that never had there been such loving and loyal brothers as Karikalan and Arulmozhi. Many spoke in various ways about the fact that the prince was still unmarried. Some said that Karikalan had refused to marry any princess of royal blood, and that his intention to wed the daughter of a temple priest and place her upon the throne was the true reason for the estrangement between father and son. Some whispered that Aditya Karikalan suffered from delusions, that sorcerers from the Pandya country had bewitched him with their black magic, and that this was why the minor kings did not wish for him to ascend the Chola throne after the Emperor.

Whatever the truth, the people’s eagerness to see that great warrior knew no bounds. From the moment the news spread that Prince Karikalan was to visit the Kadambur palace, a great excitement swept through the surrounding regions. Once it became known that he would arrive that very evening, people from every village within a radius of several miles had gathered there. To call that crowd a human ocean would not have been an exaggeration. The voices rising from the thousands upon thousands of people merged into an indistinct roar, like the tumult of the sea. In front of the palace gates, the royal guards stood ready, clearing a path for the arrival of the prince and his retinue. When the crowd pressed forward and those at the front were pushed aside, blocking the way, the guards would push them back, and they would retreat—just as the waves surge against the shore and then recede.

Suddenly, a man perched atop a tree shouted, “There they come!”

“Where? Where?” cried a thousand voices. A horse came galloping at great speed. Without the slightest regard for the crowd, it plunged straight through. The people pressed tightly to either side, making way so as not to be trampled under the horse’s hooves.

“It’s Ilanjambuvanarayan!” someone shouted.

Yes, the newcomer was— It was Kandhamaaran! Without answering the questions hurled at him by those in the crowd, Kandhamaaran swiftly urged his horse forward, stopped it near the fortress gate, and leapt down. He bowed respectfully to the Sambuvrayars and the Pazhuvettarayars who stood there.

“The prince is coming; but his mind is not in a calm state. He is seized by sudden fits of anger. I came ahead to warn you. We must receive him with all due royal honors. Whatever rash words he may utter, it is best not to respond!” he said. Having spoken thus, he did not linger there but looked up intently. From the upper storey atop the gateway tower, he could see the palace women waiting. Without delay, he entered through the fortress gate and, taking the side staircase, ascended to the upper floor.

Upon reaching the women’s quarters, Kandhamaaran’s eyes, disregarding all others, sought out and found