The Tiger Throne, page 21
“Who’s your queen?”
“Who else but Nandini, pretending to be Lord Ambalavan’s wife.”
“What about Madurandaka?”
“He’s also a Chola snake.”
“And Lord Ambalavan?”
“Hah! Why would we make that old man our king? It’s only to use his wealth and influence …”
“That your queen lives in his house,” Devan completed the sentence.
“You clever young man!” Ravidasan applauded.
“You mentioned a woman’s foolishness …” Devan prompted.
“That too was Nandini. We decided to burn her on our king’s funeral pyre but spared her when she swore to help us with our revenge. We could never have come this far without her help. Will you join us? You may be lucky enough to rule southern Tamil Nadu.”
A few days ago, Devan would have jumped at this offer. But his days with Arulmozli had changed him. He was no longer interested in tricks and lies.
Changing the topic, he asked, “How did you get on this ship and befriend the Arabs?”
“It’s all due to my magic,” Ravidasan boasted. “We bought two horses from the Arabs at Trincomalee. When the prince crossed Elephant Pass, we used a short cut to get ahead of him. We were surprised to find our Arab friends with a Chola ship. It seems their ship sank and they captured this one. They offered to take us on board as their guides.”
“Why do you want to go back to Tamil Nadu?” Devan asked.
“We heard the young Chola snake insist on returning to Thanjavur. In Lanka there’s a mute female ghost who counters my magic and protects Arulmozli. She won’t be in Thanjavur.” Ravidasan laughed. “You know how ruthless these Arabs are: they don’t think twice about killing a man. But they dote on their horses. They think we are cruel because we don’t make iron shoes for our horses’ hooves. We were ready to set sail when we heard the sound of horse’s hooves. Suspecting it was a horse which had made it to shore from their wrecked ship, one of the Arabs insisted on returning to the shore. He took us along. We didn’t catch the horse … but we caught you.” He grinned. “And you came in handy in killing those Arabs.”
“This boy is yet to answer your question,” Devaralan reminded Ravidasan.
“I serve the Cholas. I’ll never join you,” Devan declared.
“You have not sworn an oath to the Cholas. As a warrior, you should join the side which is more profitable,” Ravidasan pointed out.
A glance from Princess Kundavai’s eyes … her smile … the prince’s friendship … what more do I need to serve the Cholas? “Come what may, I won’t join your murderous gang,” he declared.
“Then prepare to die!” Ravidasan cried.
The Whirlwind
Devan quickly stretched his hands to the ocean and intoned, “Om, hreem hraam vashat!” He whirled his sword and roared, “The Sea God demands sacrifices: a sorcerer and a Kali devotee.”
Ravidasan burst out laughing. “What game are you playing?”
“It’s not a game. When I was in the hold, the Sea God spoke to me in my dream. Only if you two are sacrificed will the ship move.” He shouted. “Sea God, give these fools a sign!”
At that moment, the sea became a vast expanse of white foam and a tender breeze caressed the ship. Devan saw a small black cloud on the horizon whose top shone blood-red.
“Looks like we must prepare to be sacrificed,” Ravidasan howled. “Young man, just give us a few minutes to pray. We’ll be back soon … we’ll even leave our weapons here.”
The two men dropped their weapons and went out of sight to the other side of the ship. Devan hardened his heart and prepared to kill the evil men. The dark cloud was now huge. It grew under his eyes. The wind picked up speed and waves appeared on the sea’s surface. The ship moved. Suddenly, Devan heard a splash, followed by the sound of oars. He ran to the other side of the deck and was shocked to see Ravidasan and Devaralan rowing away from the ship in the boat.
“You wretches! Take me with you!” Devan shouted.
“Shouldn’t the Sea God be given at least one sacrifice?” Ravidasan grinned as he rowed away.
I’m alone on the ship. I have no idea how to handle it or to read the directions. Devan considered jumping overboard and swimming to the boat. I’m a poor swimmer. Those wicked men may hit me with their oars if I try to climb into the boat. I know their secrets but refused to join their gang. Let them go. It’s safer to be alone on the ship than with those murderers. I have survived many dangers in the past and god will show me a way out of this too. What if they reach the shore and hatch more evil plots? It’s in god’s hands. My priority is to find the prince. He should not have tricked me and run away on the elephant. I’ll ask him if that’s his idea of friendship. Thirumalai would have told him about the danger I’m in …
The waves rose higher and the sky and the sea darkened as the black cloud covered the sun. The boat vanished from sight. The wind’s whisper became an angry roar. The sails fluttered wildly and the planks and timbers groaned. The ship was going around in circles.
A tornado is going to hit the ship! Devan was terrified. He knew the sails must be furled before a storm, but that was impossible to do single-handedly. He resigned himself to his fate. There was no doubt the ship would either sink or be wrecked. That useless astrologer did not predict my death at sea. If I see him again … Fool! How will I see him again!?
Suddenly, Devan was pelted by hailstones. His excitement at his first hailstorm revived his spirits. This was followed by heavy rain. Devan admired the sturdy Chola ship which would not sink unless its hull cracked. Feeling more confident, he thought, If the rain becomes unbearable, I can lock myself in the hold and leave my fate to god. His thoughts flew to Pazlayarai. Who will tell the princess I died while on my mission? Why did I meet her? God showed me paradise and then threw me into hell.
Fearing that he would be washed into the sea, Devan lashed himself to the mast. The wind became a gale; the sea boiled; the sails shrieked like demons; it was pitch dark. Lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a roll of thunder which shook the sky, the sea, the ship. The sky burst and a flood of rain gushed out. It was only a matter of time before the ship sank.
My death will be a wonder! Devan no longer feared death. His heart danced with the waves. He laughed above the roar of the wind, waves and thunder. As the ship whirled, Devan and the mast whirled with it. He closed his eyes and shut his ears with his hands. Soon, Devan’s mind was calm and he lost all sense of time and space. There was a lull in the storm. The wind slowed, the rain became a drizzle and the sea a black expanse. Devan opened his eyes.
Have I survived the storm? God has saved me! I’ll see the princess. I’ll chat with the prince. But how will this ship reach the shore?
A streak of lightning lit up the sky like a hundred suns. The roll of thunder which followed threatened to shatter Devan’s eardrums. He closed his eyes and ears. After a while, he heard the crackling of flames and slowly opened his eyes—the sails above him were burning! The mast had been struck by lightning. The ship had withstood the wind and the water but was now being destroyed by fire.
Vandhiya Devan realized this was the end of the ship—and him. He laughed in the face of death and untied himself from the mast. I’d rather die in the cool water than by fire.
He looked around at the beautiful ocean, lit up by the fire. They say the spirit of a person who dies a premature death lingers on in that place. Will my spirit float on the wind and the waves? Maybe the princess will sail this way. They’ll say, ‘This is where Vandhiya Devan went down with the ship.’ If she cries, will I be able to wipe her tears?
As his ship stood poised on the crest of a huge wave, Devan saw a ship in the distance, flying the Tiger Flag. Thank god! The prince has come to rescue me!
The Boat Shatters
Parthibendran’s ship was manned by seasoned sailors: the sail was furled and stowed away and the ship was steered so that it did not bear the full brunt of the storm. Even when the whirlwind spun it like a top, the ship righted itself under the expert hands of the Tamil seamen.
“I have weathered fiercer storms,” the captain said. “There’s no need to worry. I fear only one thing: visibility is zero. The other ship will also be floundering in the dark. If the two ships collide, both will shatter and that will be the end of everyone on board.”
Arulmozli stood in a corner of the deck, scanning the sea. My sister’s messenger is in the clutches of Arab thugs and a murderous sorcerer. Will I be able to rescue him? What if the ships collide? Who’ll give my father the crucial news about his first wife? I have never failed in anything I set out to do. I won’t fail now. The prince closed his eyes in reflex as lightning streaked across the sky, followed by an earsplitting roll of thunder. When he opened his eyes, he saw a ship dancing like a ghost upon the waves. The sails were on fire. In the light of the fire, he saw a man standing by the mast. Oh god! It’s a miracle! It’s the brave Vandhiya Devan. Why is he alone?
“There! Look!” others on board had spotted the ship.
Arulmozli ran to the lifeboats. “Who will come with me?” he shouted.
Although the sailors were horrified at what the prince planned to do, many of them volunteered. Parthibendran and the captain ran to stop the prince.
“Sir,” Parthibendran said. “It’s impossible to rescue anyone from that burning ship. But there are many of us here who are ready to try. You must stay here.”
The prince roared, “I’ll never forgive anyone who tries to stop me! I need only two men.”
The boat was lowered into the sea and the prince and two sailors jumped in. The boat swirled in the sea. The men slowly brought it under control and rowed to the burning ship.
“Jump! Jump into the sea!” the prince shouted.
But Devan was in shock: he stood staring helplessly at the ship and the approaching boat. In minutes, the fire would reach the deck and the ship would sink.
Arulmozli grabbed the heavy rope tied to the lifeboat, fastened it around his waist and jumped into the sea. Fighting the waves, he swam to the burning ship. A huge wave threw him on the ship’s deck. The prince held Devan by the neck and shouted, “Hold on to me—don’t let go!”
The next instant, they were in the water. The sailors stopped rowing and pulled in the rope. The prince, and Devan who clung to him like a leech, somehow reached the boat.
“Grab your oars!” Arulmozli shouted. “Row quickly!”
As the burning ship sank, huge waves battered the small boat. Somehow, the boat managed to ride the waves. But without the fire, they were in total darkness. If they collided with their ship, the boat would be smashed; if they missed the ship, they would be lost in the sea. The whirlwind vanished as quickly as it had appeared, but the sea continued to seethe and heave. The small boat was tossed by ferocious waves. The men stopped rowing: it was pointless to row without knowing where their ship was.
Unknown to them, an unexpected danger was coming near. As the burning ship sank, one of its huge sails detached itself and came straight at the boat. In the pitch dark, no one saw it until it was too late.
“Row for your lives!” Arulmozli shouted just as the sail rammed the boat and the boat shattered. “Courage, my friend,” the prince shouted to Devan. “Grab the sail, it’s safer than the boat.”
Let Me Die!
The company on the shore of the Thondaman estuary watched the boatman row the prince to Parthibendran’s ship which immediately set sail.
Velir was pleased. “God is on our side. Parthibendran will take the prince safely to Kanchipuram. I’ll gather my army and leave for Thanjavur.” He noticed Azlvarkkadian nearby. “Thirumalai! You heard my plans? Never mind—there’s nothing Aniruddha’s spy does not know. Are you coming to Mathottam with me?”
“No, sir,” Azlvarkkadian replied. “I still have some work … my master said if I ever came across a mute woman in Lanka, I must somehow persuade her to come with me to Thanjavur.”
Velir smiled. “She’s very fond of the prince. What do you know about her?”
“I know she’s a deaf-mute by birth. I also know it will be easier to cage a tempest than to take her with me. But I’ll give it a try,” Azlvarkkadian replied.
“The boat girl and the mute woman are good friends,” Velir remarked. “Look at them talking together in sign language. Send the boat girl here, Thirumalai. I have a warning for her.”
Azlvarkkadian went to the women and gave Poonkuzlali Velir’s message. She came and stood before the general.
Velir said, “Look here, you’re a clever girl. You have done the Cholas great service by bringing your news at the right time. I’ll reward you for that.”
“Thank you, sir,” Poonkuzlali replied. “But I don’t want any reward.”
Velir laughed. “Let things calm down. I’ll find a brave Chola warrior to be your husband. He must be an extraordinary man—otherwise he won’t be able to keep you in check.” He paused. “But just because you helped the prince, don’t think you have any claims over him. Catch your fish in the sea, but don’t try to catch the prince. If you come near him, beware!”
Poonkuzlali kept her eyes lowered to hide her anger. Velir’s harsh words poured like molten lead into her ears. She wanted to give the old man a piece of her mind but her voice choked. Eyes brimming with hot tears, she walked away. I hate the sound of cruel human voices. All men should be born dumb. I must hurry to my boat and row into the sea where no human voice can be heard … only there will I find balm to heal my heart. That wicked man! What a dirty mind he has. As if I’m trying to catch the prince.
Her anger lent her wings and by noon she had reached her hidden boat. Her boat was her friend and her refuge from the world of sorrow and betrayal. Let the old man guard the prince and saddle him with his niece. Who cares? I have my boat … my oars … my strong hands … and the sea. The Ocean King won’t let me down.
Poonkuzlali knew the signs of a coming cyclone–the dark ring around the moon the previous night, the stillness and humidity, the dark clouds in the southeast. She would row to Boodha Island and watch the magnificent storm. Once the cyclone was spent, she would go across to Kodikkarai. The prince must have reached Kodikkarai or Mamallapuram. What do I care? As long as he’s not caught in the storm.
Poonkuzlali reached Boodha Island just before the storm and climbed to the top of a stupa. She swayed in the wind, drenched by the rain, her hair streaming behind her. She watched as the coconut palms on the island waved in frenzy, waves rose like mountains and dissolved into froth, lightning streaked across the sky and the roar of wind and waves joined the rolls of thunder. The storm reflected the tempest raging in her soul. The prince must be safe in Kodikkarai by now. Even if he’s at sea, his ship will withstand the storm. Will he think of me? Never! He’ll think of Vandhiya Devan or Vanathi. Why would he remember this poor girl of the fisher folk?
Poonkuzlali went to sleep in the cave, troubled by dreams: she was in a boat, casting her net … the prince was caught in her net … she and the prince were fish swimming together in the sea … She awoke. ‘What madness is this?’ she thought before falling asleep again.
Poonkuzlali rose at dawn and walked to the shore. The storm had died but the sea still heaved. Suddenly, she saw a raft floating to the shore with a man tied to it. She rushed to untie him—he was half dead. When he revived, he told her that he was a fisherman from a village on the Lankan coast. He was caught in the storm and, while his companion died, he made it to the shore.
He said, “When we were stranded in the sea, lightning lit up the darkness and we saw two ships. One was burning and there were men running on its deck. It sank and we lost sight of the other ship.”
Poonkuzlali was worried. Was it the prince’s ship? Impossible! Ships come and go in the sea: can I worry about each one of them? But some men may have jumped into the sea from the burning ship; they may be clinging to some floating object and fighting for their lives. If I don’t try to save them, what’s the purpose of my life?
Poonkuzlali jumped into her boat and rowed against the waves which dashed on the shore. Then she was in the sea and the boat sped across the water. As she rowed, Poonkuzlali instinctively broke into song. Her sweet voice rose above the roar of the waves.
Arulmozli and Vandhiya Devan clung to the spar of the sail as they were tossed about by the turbulent waves.
Devan soon lost all hope of ever reaching land again. Every time the waves lifted them and threw them down, he thought, I’ll die now. Filled with remorse, he lamented, “My rashness has put you in danger, sir!”
Arulmozli comforted him. “Men have survived three or four days in the sea. We have not been in the water for even one night.”
“Lies! Many days have passed. I’m dying of thirst.”
“Patience,” Arulmozli said. “Once the sun rises, we’ll be washed ashore somewhere.”
“Sir, I can’t bear this torture. Please untie me from the plank … let me die!”
Refusing to listen to Arulmozli’s words of comfort, Devan struggled to untie his own bonds. Arulmozli gave him a blow on his head. Devan lost consciousness.
When Devan came to himself, it was morning. The sea was calm.
The prince said, “My friend, we are near land. I saw the top of a coconut tree a while back.”
“Sir,” Devan pleaded. “Let me die. Save yourself somehow.”
“I’ll never abandon you. Don’t lose hope.” Arulmozli paused. “I hear someone singing …”
Devan cried, “It’s Poonkuzlali—we are saved!”
Poonkuzlali’s sweet song breathed fresh life and spirit into them. Soon, the boat came to them. Poonkuzlali was speechless in wonder: Is this a dream?
The prince untied Devan’s rope, jumped into the boat and then pulled Devan in. Poonkuzlali stood frozen like a statue.
