The shadows cast by dense trees darkened the Mango orchard. Ponnan walked ahead, with Vikraman following him. Ponnan was looking up at the lower branches as he was walking through the grove. He stopped and inspected one of those branches intensely. Something was carved on that tree branch. On closer inspection, it turned out to be the form of a tiger.
Ponnan removed all the leaves covering the ground under that symbol, and started digging. Vikraman picked up the spade in his excitement. Ponnan stopped him, saying “My king, you have not recovered yet. You will have plenty to do later. Please sit under the tree while I dig.”
Vikraman complied. Thoughts came rushing back as he sat under the tree. ‘I had a blissful childhood here. How did it come to this – to have to stay here at the mercy of a girl who is a stranger? Thankfully, I don’t need to stay here any longer. It is good to leave as soon as we get the box. I was insane to want to come here!’. Vikraman realized that his desire to leave was odd, considering how he had longed to return to his motherland. ‘Not too long ago, this country lived proud and free under the rule of King Parthiban. Now it was being trampled under the feet of Pallavas. It now has the dubious distinction of being commanded by that traitor, Marappa Bhupathi! The sooner I leave this soil the better!’
As a counterargument, he told himself, ‘What can the country do? It is the people who have lost their collective spines!’ and sighed. He recalled the paintings King Parthiban showed him in the art gallery. He remembered the vivid fantasies expressed through those paintings. ‘Are those dreams going to remain just dreams? Everyone here seems to have settled into the role of Pallava admirers’, Vikraman thought. The previous day, a man had arrived from Kanchi. He had described the grand reception that was held in honor of the Chinese traveler. As the man described the festivities, Vikraman was seething. He had thought, ‘The Chinese traveler is going to carry the message of the greatness of the Pallava empire. He would tell everyone in his country, and all the countries that he will visit in the future about the Pallavas. Who cares about the Chozha clan, and the bravery of King Parthiban who died fighting for his country?’
He was brought back to reality when Ponnan called, “My king!”. Ponnan bent down into the hole that he had dug. When he rose, he was holding a box tightly wrapped in leather. Ponnan removed the leather cover to reveal an artfully decorated wooden chest.
Vikraman rushed to receive the chest from Ponnan and opened it. He looked inside eagerly. He touched his closed eyes with the palm scrolls in the box as a gesture of respect. He picked up the sword and addressed Ponnan.
“Ponna, I don’t mind confessing that I was thinking unworthy, defeatist thoughts just a moment ago. I went as far as thinking that the Chozha country is beyond redemption. I regretted having risked everything to return. Touching this sword has cleared my head. It is as if a veil has lifted, helping me see clearly. This sword ruled the civilized world a long time ago. My ancestors, Karikal Valavan and Nedumudi Killi used this sword to carry out successful overseas campaigns. They established the Chozha empire with this sword. The occupants of the Senbaga Island settled there during Emperor Karikalan’s rule. I am from the bloodline of such great warriors. I now have the same sword that they wielded. Why shouldn’t I be able to achieve what they were able to do? My father gave me the scrolls of Thirukkural along with this sword. Doesn’t Thirukkural say ‘Muyarchi thiruvainaiyakkum’, meaning perseverance works wonders? How could I forget it? There is something seriously wrong with the Chozha country. Even the wind that blows here give me defeatist thoughts. Let’s not wait any longer. Let’s go!”
Ponnan stood watching and listening in awe. For a while, he stood stunned by the aura that Vikraman exuded. He shook himself out of the spell, pushed the dug earth back into the hole he had dug, and covered the spot again with leaves.
They reached the riverbank, and were shocked to discover that the boat was missing.
“Ponna, where could the boat have gone?”, asked Vikraman.
“Did we come to the wrong spot?” asked a confused Ponnan, but immediately noticed the rope that was tied to the tree root. They concluded the end tied to the boat must have somehow come loose.
“Ponna, should we just swim across?”
“My king, please be patient. Let me walk along the riverbank to see if the boat has been pushed ashore by the currents”, said Ponnan as he started running along the riverbank.
Click here for the audiobook version
Parthban Kanavu: The Tamil version of the novel is in the public domain. Copyright for the translation is reserved by the translator..
Art by Sujatha, unless otherwise credited.
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