The boat in which Vandiyathevan had bound Azhwarkkadiyan floated a short distance along the river’s current and then drifted to the shore. The two soldiers who had been swept away by the river’s flood stumbled their way to the bank and reached the spot where the boat had come to rest. Azhwarkkadiyan did not get down from the boat. Remaining as though still bound, he instructed the others to stay hidden.

The truth was, Azhwarkkadiyan’s intention was that Vandiyathevan and Karuthiruman should escape. He knew that this was also the wish of the Prime Minister. Since both of them were presently in Thanjavur, it would become necessary to investigate many past incidents. Neither the Prime Minister nor Azhwarkkadiyan had any doubt that Vandiyathevan was innocent. Yet, even the act of conducting an inquiry would bring about many troubles. Many would be distressed. If such talk reached the ears of the people, it could lead to disaster. Arulmozhi Varman would lose a precious friend, and the Chola kingdom would lose a valiant and wise statesman. The Prime Minister was well aware of Kundavai’s state of mind regarding Vandiyathevan, as well as Manimekalai’s open interest. Considering all this, it was decided that it would be best, at this time, to help Vandiyathevan escape.

After discovering the horses in Sendhan Amudhan’s garden, Vandiyathevan and Karuthiruman would surely travel along the banks of the Vadavaru, or so Thirumalai Nambi expected. As Karuthiruman had said, if they followed the riverbank, they could go as far as the place where it joined the Pamani river. That would be halfway to Kodikkarai. So it was certain they would come that way. Azhwarkkadiyan waited there, planning to intercept them on their journey and send a message to Vandiyathevan.

More time had passed than he had anticipated. “Perhaps we were mistaken; maybe they took another route; or perhaps something unexpected has happened,” he decided. Just as Thirumalai was about to get down from the boat and climb onto the shore, he heard the sound of horses’ hooves in the distance. So, once again, he lay down as though he were still bound.

As the horses drew near, he called out, “Ho there! Who is it? Please wait a moment! Untie me before you go!” Yet the horses did not stop; they sped on without pause. The man riding the first horse—he saw clearly—was Karuthiruman. Therefore, as the second horse drew near, he shouted loudly, “Vandiyatheva! Vandiyatheva! Stop for a moment!”

But the second horse too galloped past without halting. At that instant, Azhwarkkadiyan caught a glimpse of the rider atop it. He was plunged into a sea of bewilderment. “Something is wrong with my eyes; my mind is deceiving me,” he muttered.

After passing him by, the horses went a short distance before coming to a halt. Only one horse turned back. Karuthiruman dismounted and approached the boat.

“Poor fellow! Are you still bound? You have helped us so much! At the very least, let me untie you as a token of gratitude. But do not attempt any of your tricks on me!” he said, bending down as he spoke. In a flash, Thirumalai leapt from the bank, seized Karuthiruman by the neck, and threw him to the ground.

Karuthiruman, utterly unprepared for this assault, lay stunned and helpless for a moment. Then he began to wail piteously, “Ayyo, appa! Let me go! You will earn merit for yourself. Is it right to betray the trust of one who came to do good? Look, your friend Vandiyathevan is waiting for you. Yes, he is praising you as his dearest companion. What will he think if he comes here and sees what you have done? You cannot escape alive! Let me go, father! Let me go!” he pleaded in misery.

Azhwarkkadiyan retorted, “Ah! How boldly you lie! Who is the man riding that horse? Tell me the truth! If you speak, I will let you go. If not, your life will end in the next moment!”

“Yes, yes! I lied. I cannot deceive you. The man on that horse is not Vandiyathevan. It is Prince Madurantaka. Let me go! I will get you whatever rewards you desire from him!”

“Fine, fine! Keep your rewards! Where is Vandiyathevan?”

“He got down from his horse at that hermitage in the garden. After that, I did not see him.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the very place I intended to go with Vandiyathevan.”

“That is, to the island of Lanka.”

“Yes!”

“Why is Madurantakan coming to Lanka?”

“How would I know? Ask him yourself! He just decided to come along with me.”

Azhwarkkadiyan pressed Karuthiruman’s chest with a firm hand and demanded, “Tell the truth! Whose son is Madurantakan?”

“What kind of question is that? He is the son of Sembiyan Madevi’s… No, no, don’t press my chest! My life will slip away! He is the son of the mute Mandakini.”

“Who is Madurantakan’s father? Tell the truth! If not, you won’t escape with your life!”

Karuthiruman replied in a very soft voice.

“All right; you have survived! Now, finally, tell me just one more thing! Whose son is Sendhan Amudhan?”

“Why are you asking me? You already know, don’t you?”

“Kandaradithar—he is Sembiyan Madevi’s son, isn’t he?”

“Yes; but I am the reason he is alive today. Vaani, who was both deaf and mute, thought the child was dead and tried to bury him. Hearing the baby’s cry, I saved him. For that alone, at least, spare my life now!”

“In truth, it is for that very reason that I am letting you live now!” said Azhwarkkadiyan, and stood up.

Karuthiruman leapt up, mounted his horse, and rode away. Both horses galloped along the riverbank in the rainy darkness.