Vandiyathevan was hurrying in from one side. From the other side, Manimekalai approached, saying, “Akka! The food is ready!” as she drew near.

Karikalan looked from one side to the other and said, “Nandini, it was not only Vandiyathevan who tried to stop me from coming to Kadambur Palace. That Vaishnavite, Alwarkadiyan, also brought the same message! Even the chief minister Aniruddha, my father’s dearest friend and a man I revere, sent word warning me, did he not?”

“Chief Minister Aniruddha! Your father’s beloved companion! And so, he himself seeks to take your father’s very life. He is a man you revere! And so, he wishes to ensure you never inherit the throne…”

“Why? Why?”

“He thinks you are mad, that you lack divine devotion. His desire is to crown your younger brother, make him a valiant Vaishnavite, and turn this Chola land into a Vaishnavite kingdom. When your brother disappeared in the midst of the sea, a shadow fell upon his hopes!”

“For that, is it necessary to prevent me from coming to Kadambur?”

“Shall I not reveal all their secrets to you?”

“How do you know their secrets?”

“Sir! Have you forgotten that I am the sister of that Vaishnavite, Alwarkadiyan…?”

“Are you truly his own sister? Do you expect me to believe that story?”

“I myself do not believe that story. Nor do I ask you to believe it. I was raised in his father’s house. So he calls me his sister. That Vaishnavite is accustomed to calling me the incarnation of Andal. His wish is that I should travel with him from town to town, singing the hymns of the Alwars and spreading the Vaishnavite tradition!”

“Did he wish to make you a Vaishnavite ascetic, just as those Buddhist monks?” asked Aditya Karikalan.

“Nothing of the sort. His desire was to marry me, to wander from town to town as a couple, singing hymns together. He wished that I should bear him many children, to help spread the Vaishnavite faith…”

“Ugh! Where is that monkey-faced Thirumalai, and where are you? Did he truly wish to make you his wife?”

“Sir! That is my misfortune! Such was the hour of my birth! Every man who draws near to me does so with evil intent…”

“Does that old man, Pazhuvettarayar, speak of others because his own wits have gone astray?”

“Prince! Do not speak a single word against Pazhuvettarayar in my hearing. He cherished me. He married me before the whole world. I, who was an orphaned girl, he raised to the dignity of a crowned queen in his palace…”

“But what is your own wish, Nandini? Do you truly accept him as your husband and worship him? If so…”

“No, no. I am bound to him by immeasurable gratitude. But I have never lived the life of a wife with him. Sir! I was born in a poor family. I was abandoned at birth. Yet I have given my heart to only one person. I have never changed it, not for a single day…”

“Nandini! Who is that fortunate man? No, do not tell me. Who are you? Tell me the truth! If you are not my father’s daughter, if you are not my sister, if you are not even born along with Azhwarkadiyan, then who are you? Tell me that alone, Nandini! If I do not know it, I shall truly go mad!” cried Karikalan.

“I, too, wish to reveal it to you. But your friend and my companion are approaching us now. When another opportunity arises, I will surely tell you,” said Nandini.

Seeing Vallavaraiyan, who had come very close, the Queen of Pazhuvoor asked, “Sir! Why have you returned empty-handed? Where is the tiger’s head?”

“Devi! The fortune of bringing a tiger’s head and laying it at your feet has not come to me!” said Vandiyathevan.

“Ah! Is this the extent of your valor? You spoke so much about the bravery of your ancestors, didn’t you? Didn’t you say that they reaped the heads of three dynastic kings and planted them in the fields?”

“What is that song?” asked Karikalan.

“Sir! Will you say it, or shall I?” Nandini asked Vandiyathevan, turning to him.

“Rani! I have no memory of ever reciting such a song,” said Vandiyathevan.

“You do not remember, but I recall it very well. I shall recite it—listen, my lord!

With armies grown lush and rivers of crimson blood gathered, In the rare mire trampled by elephants— The king of kings, the lord of poets, reaped and planted The crowns of the three great kings!

How is that song, Prince? You have brought only the head of a single Pandya. But your ancestors, it seems, brought the heads of Chera, Chola, and Pandya kings and planted them in the fields…”

Disgust and rage danced across Karikalan’s face. “Excellent ploughing! Excellent planting!” he exclaimed, and then burst into thunderous laughter.

Vandiyathevan could not even raise his eyes to meet Karikalan’s face. He stammered, “Devi! I have never recited such a song to you!”

“What does it matter? If you did not already know, you can now learn of your lineage’s greatness! Yet, in the dynasty that once reaped and planted the heads of the three crowned kings, you could not even bring back the head of a wounded tiger?”

“Devi! That wounded tiger is dead and gone. I did not wish to sever the head of a dead beast.”

“How is that possible? I saw the tiger leap onto the boat with my own eyes!” said Karikalan.

“I was the one who showed you that scene. After it climbed into the boat and lay down, it must have died. Perhaps, overcome by remorse for having wounded the noble lady of Pazhuvoor, it gave up its life. Or who knows for what reason?” replied Vandiyathevan.

The sharpness on Karikalan’s face softened a little, and a faint smile blossomed. “But it could have died in the water itself, couldn’t it? There was no need