CHAPTER 24
THE BATTLE AT PULLALUR
PART- 1
Kannabiraan jumped out of the chariot, holding onto the reins of his horses all the while. “Gods in heaven, dear sister, what are you doing here? When did you get here, and what is this place?” He pelted questions at Sivakami.
“We started out on a journey to Chidambaram, anna,” she replied. “And we stopped here, on our way there. This little town is called Ashokapuram, I believe…oh, look! There’s the pillar erected by the Emperor Ashoka; didn’t you see it?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have time for sight-seeing—but tell me: why this sudden, unannounced start on a journey, at this time…?”
“We couldn’t bear to stay at home, in the middle of the forest, with a war raging around us. Besides, Kumara Chakravarthy has forgotten us completely, hasn’t he? So—”
“My deluded girl, what on earth are you talking about? Kumara Chakravarthy, to forget…! But yours was the first residence we stopped at when the Emperor granted us permission to go to war—and you’ve no idea about Maamallar’s anger when he saw your home locked up…!”
“Well, really…! The unmitigated gall of people who’re angry about locked houses, especially when they’d forgotten our existence for eight months…! Be that as it may, where’re you all running off to?”
Kannabiraan climbed back into his chariot as he spoke. “Haven’t you heard about the battle at Pullalur, yet?”
Sivakami’s lips twisted into a scornful smile. “Ah, you’re running away from battle, are you?”
“Perish the thought, little sister. We’re beating our vanquished foes into hasty retreat—and if you decide to stay here a while more, you might see us return with that dratted coward Dhurvineethan strapped to the wheels of this Royal Chariot, on our way back to Kanchi!”
“Just as you wish, anna. Please make it clear to Maamallar that I shall stay here…: Sivakami hesitated, and threw a penitent glance at him. “And ask him—ask him to forgive me if I’ve…if I’ve angered him in any way,” She finished.
Kannabiraan flicked his whip over his horse elegantly; it emitted a sharp ‘suleerr’, and the animals responded at once, by jerking into motion. The charioteer inclined his head towards Sivakami, indicating that he would pass on her message…
…and the next instant, the royal chariot had vanished in a cloud of dust.
Aayanar appeared at the entrance to the Vihara at that moment. “Sivakami, my dear,” he began. “Who were you speaking with? Was that a chariot I saw, leaving just now? Who was in it ?”
“None other than Kannabiraan, appa,” replied his daughter. “Prince Maamallar and Commander Paranjyothi passed this way too—seconds before the royal chariot did.”
“The Prince…? Well, well, well. It appears that they will not leave us to our own devices, even if we’ve moved away from them—”
“I’m afraid visiting us was not their intention in coming here, father.”
“Indeed,” sighed Aayanar. “Why would they come after us, as you say? The days when Emperors and Princes trooped into a sculptor’s residence, willing to claim an acquaintanceship with him are long gone, I’m afraid.”
“Appa, don’t,” Sivakami intercepted. “Don’t say that, please. It appears—it appears that Maamallar sought us out the moment he had been given permission to go to war…”
“Good Lord…” breathed Aayanar. “Gundodharan’s tales were true all along, were they?”
“Yes. And he was telling us the truth when he spoke about Maamallar’s anger at not finding us there.”
“If I’ve said it once, I’ve said a hundred times that we ought to have stayed at home—but no, you would insist that we start out on this scatter-brained journey to nowhere! And now we’re reaping the benefits of such an ill-omened venture,” finished Aayanar, bitterly.
A lengthy sojourn in a tiny town with no purpose whatsoever was beginning to wear down Aayanar’s nerves; it had become a habit with him, of late, to shift the blame for the repercussions big and small, of events lately transpired on other shoulders rather than his own.
There was, however, some truth in his latest statement—and Sivakami felt a stab of self-blame and remorse as she heard his words.
“There isn’t much use discussing what’s already done, appa,” she murmured.
“As you say, there isn’t much use discussing what cannot be changed. Nevertheless…” Aayanar sighed. “And so—Maamallar passed by this very Vihara, yet never stopped an instant to enquire after us, did he? To think, my dear, how fond he used to be of our company in the olden days…”
“He still is, father,” Sivakami answered as staunchly as she could. “There is a war raging around us, after all—that’s why they’re in such a tearing hurry. I’ve no doubt that he’ll visit us when he’s dealt with affairs of state satisfactorily—Kannabiraan promised that he would, at any rate.”
“That settles it, I suppose. But why’s everyone scampering on the roads, then?”
“There was a battle fought at Pullalur, apparently…”
“Ha…! They’re running away from the battlefield, are they? There was a time when our warriors used to go to war with the battle cry of victory, or a valorous death—and were firm in their belief that retreat in battle was a fate more dishonorable than anything in the world…”
“Appa, the men running from battle were our enemies, in this instance. That satisfies you, I hope?”
“No, it does not,” Aayanar spoke with great emphasis. “Where’s the satisfaction in chasing after a pack of unruly cowards who’re already retreating as fast as they can? There’s a point in gaining a clear victory over warriors in battle…but pray, where’s the valour in striking down men already half-dead with fear?”
Sivakami gave up the argument with a sigh, knowing that Aayanar’s mind was firmly set in dejection, and would not be easily swayed.
Father and daughter lost themselves in quiet—and uneasy reflections.

