First swept away by the river’s flood, and then by the breach’s torrent, the great Pazhuvetarayar, exhausted beyond measure, lay for a long time unconscious, senseless, sleeping like a log. After he had slept enough, faint memories and dreams began to stir within him. At one moment, Durga Parameswari herself stepped down from the temple idol, took four steps, and came near him. Her divine mouth blossomed as she fixed him with eyes blazing like fire.

“Ah, Pazhuvetaraya! You and your clan have belonged to me for generations. Therefore, I warn you. That Nandini whom you have brought into your palace—she is a demoness in the form of a human woman! She has come to uproot and destroy your lineage and the Chola dynasty. She is waiting for the right moment. Cast her out from your palace, cast her out from your heart, and then attend to other matters! If not, an everlasting disgrace will befall you and your clan…”

Thus warning him, the goddess turned and merged back into the idol…

Pazhuvetarayar started up in alarm. His body was trembling all over. It was difficult for him to believe that what he had seen was merely a dream. Yet, he resolved that it must be so.

Dawn had broken fully. The fury of the storm had abated. The rain had ceased. Only the sound of “sho” could be heard. He walked to the edge of the temple’s outer hall and looked around. The sight that met his eyes was not encouraging.

The breach in the Kollidam had grown much larger by now. Nearly half the river’s flood seemed to be pouring through the gap with a deep, gurgling roar. To the east and south, there was nothing but a vast expanse of floodwater. Only to the west, for a short distance beside the temple, the waters whirled and leapt, rushing away. Beyond that, dense groves of small trees and thickets stretched far into the distance. He guessed that must be the forest adjoining the village of Thiruppurambiyam, and somewhere within that forest, in its midst, must stand the ancient Pallipadai temple where King Prithiveepathi of the Ganga dynasty was commemorated with a hero stone.

In that ruined mandapam, memories of the great battle that had taken place there a hundred years ago came flooding back to him. He recalled the heroic deeds performed by his ancestors in that war, acts of valor that had aided the Chola dynasty. Would it be possible that such a calamity could truly befall his ancient, illustrious lineage because of this Nandini? Was there some truth, after all, in what Durga Parameswari had revealed to him in his dream?

Whatever the case, he must henceforth be on his utmost guard. He must discover the true nature of Nandini’s intentions. Only after leaving this place could he attend to other matters. If he could reach the village of Thirupurambiyam, perhaps he could find help there. If anyone else had survived the capsized boat, they too might have made their way to that village. But how was he to cross the floodwaters and reach Thirupurambiyam?

The swirling floodwaters circled the temple, churning and eddying all around! Even if a temple elephant were to enter that current, it would be swept away in an instant. How was he to cross it?

It was certain that the floodwaters were digging a deep trench around the temple, eroding the earth beneath. No one could say when the temple itself might collapse! Only by the grace of Durga Parameswari did it stand upright still. Yet, how was he to get out? If he waited for the floodwaters to subside, who knew how many days that would take?

Fortunately, there was another way. Directly opposite the temple stood a grand neem tree, which, by some miracle, had survived the storm without falling. But the swirling floodwaters had carved a trench around that neem tree as well, so it was certain that the tree would fall before the temple did. If the tree fell, it might land like a bridge toward the forested region to the west. Even if it did not, the floodwaters might carry the tree along and deposit it somewhere along the shore. If he could scramble onto the tree as soon as it fell, he might somehow escape from there.

Until then, he would have to remain in the temple. By the goddess’s mercy, there was still enough prasadam left to stave off hunger for another day. He would have to wait there patiently, until either the tree fell or the floodwaters receded. What else could he do?

There was no use in acting hastily. Surely, the Divine Mother had spared him from death in the flood because there were yet great deeds for him to accomplish in this world. Therefore, for whatever was to come, Durga— Will not Parameswari herself show the way? That day too had passed. Another night and day slipped by. The storm, leaving devastation in its wake wherever it went, had now moved westward.

The torrential rain had ceased. Yet, for the trapped Pazhuvettarayar within the temple of Durga Devi, there was still no deliverance. The floodwaters of the Kollidam appeared to have receded. But the breach in the embankment was only growing larger. The waters swirling around the temple did not diminish; if anything, their depth seemed to be increasing. How could one measure it? Or even contemplate plunging into that breached torrent and swimming across—was that even possible to consider?

At last, as the sun was setting that day, just as Pazhuvettarayar had hoped, the great neem tree standing opposite the temple toppled. By good fortune, the fallen tree stretched across to touch the western bank of the breached flood. Pazhuvettarayar readied himself to cross over by that path. He hesitated for a moment, wondering how he would find his way through the wild forest at night. That hesitation did not last long. He resolved that he must set out at