Hearing Vanathi’s words, mingled with the sound of her laughter, the prince too laughed as he climbed down from the elephant.

“Ah! Mounting an elephant is a most difficult task. It is much like ascending the royal throne. Climbing onto the elephant is hard; sitting atop it is harder still! But descending from it is the hardest of all. Yet, at times, one must endure such hardships!” said Ponniyin Selvan.

“Some endure that hardship even for the most trivial reasons. There are those who mount an elephant and come rushing just to save a nest of baby birds!” said Vanathi.

“Do you still remember that incident, Vanathi? Since you have never spoken of it until now, I thought you might have forgotten!” said the prince.

“Those who roam the world and engage in many brave deeds may forget. But what else is there for a foolish girl who stays within the palace to do, except to remember? I still recall the day you came riding on the elephant; I remember when I said I was a girl from Kodumbalur, and you frowned and turned away!”

“There was a reason for that then, Vanathi!”

“That reason still exists, my lord! You are the son of the emperor who rules the world; Ponniyin Selvan, the jewel of Chozha Nadu. And I—was born and raised in a remote, wild region. A princess of a minor chieftain’s clan; and even among them, the orphaned daughter of one who died in battle!…”

“Vanathi! You do me an injustice! You speak words that are unfair! Let it be, let it be! I must hurry to Thanjai! Tell me quickly—how did you come here? Why did you come alone? Did you really float here atop a thatched roof? Why did this girl come here? How did she get caught in such mortal peril?…”

“I am glad that you remembered I am standing here alone. If you give me a moment to speak with you privately, I will say what I must and leave at once!” said Poonkuzhali. At that moment, as the two women stood face to face before the prince, an extraordinary courage and boldness seemed to possess them.

“Daughter of the Ocean! Did you think I had forgotten you? How could that ever be? Was it not you who, when I called and called, silently rowed the boat forward without so much as a word in reply? How could I ever forget the sight of you, who came in such haste, swaying between the tree branch and the open jaws of the crocodile? I shall remember that as long as I live!” said the prince, and laughed.

“And I can never forget the predicament in which Vanathi clung to you, unable to lift you up or let you go. But how did the two of you come here? For what reason? One of you, tell me quickly!”

“Ponniyin Selva! Both I and your noble sister have come to prevent you from being stopped on your way to Thanjavur. The princess fears that if you come to Thanjavur now, a great war will break out there. She wishes to meet and speak with you before that happens…”

“Where is the princess now?”

“She is in Kudanthai…”

“How did you come here alone?”

“On the way, your sister and I stayed for a short while at the house of the astrologer in Kudanthai. At that time, the Kaveri river broke its banks and swept right up to the astrologer’s house. Prince! They say that Mother Kaveri saved you when you were a child. I also know how much affection you bear for this Ponni river. But today, it is terrifying even to think of the suffering this river has brought upon the towns and villages, the people and the animals. It seems as though Mother Kaveri is most cruel…”

“Vanathi! Do not speak ill of Mother Kaveri! This queen has such love for our Chola land. When that love overflows its bounds, she breaks through the banks and surges forth. Those who do not understand this speak ill of the mother! Why, some even blame the king of the seas for the tides that cross the shore. But Poonguzhali would never speak ill of the lord of the oceans!” said the prince.

“Forgive me! I shall never again blame Mother Kaveri. When your sister and I were at the astrologer’s house in Kudanthai, suddenly the river’s longing surged and overflowed. Your sister and the others ran to the temple— They climbed onto the roof of the mandapam. Because of my own carelessness, I failed to climb up onto the mandapam. I clung to the astrologer’s tiled roof and drifted along with it…”

“To save you, Poonguzhali must have boarded the boat and come after you. How beautiful it is! In the end, this Gajendran had to save both of you together. This elephant’s intelligence is truly remarkable! With its trunk, it lifted both of you as if picking up a garland of flowers—without wavering or faltering—and just a moment ago, set you safely on the shore! This very morning, the same elephant, with the mahout’s goad in hand, lifted the mahout who came running late and hurled him far away! It’s a miracle if that man is still alive!”

“Oh no! What is that? I myself wanted to ask you about it…”

“What did you want to ask me?”

“I wanted to know whether you were harmed by the mahout or the goad.”

“It’s true that I was in danger; but how did you know? Did the astrologer tell you? Has that madness not yet left the young princess?”

“The astrologer did not tell us! Even if he had, we would not have believed him. It was Periya Pazhuvettaraiyar who told us!”

“What? What? Who told you?”

“Yes, Prince! It was the commander, Periya Pazhuvettaraiyar himself who told us. While we were at the astrologer’s house, he suddenly entered. He spoke of the danger that awaited you.