CHAPTER 44

THE LION INSIGNIA

Mandapapattu did not present quite so festive an appearance, the next day. Despite the well advanced hour, two jaamams past the sun beginning his journey across the skies, not many people could be seen on the streets. Two days of endless merry-making, feasts and adventures, not to mention sleepless nights due to the tumultuous emotions brought upon by its esteemed visitors meant a very jaded set of villagers, post the celebrations. Most homes still had their front doors locked, that morning; the Naavukkarasar monastery was no different.

And yet – one could hear voices from within.

Gundodharan, Sathrugnan and Vajrabahu made their way towards the monastery’s entrance. The younger man banged on the door, and the voices ceased at once.

Sounds of movement within reached them, along with that of doors being opened and closed.

Finally, the door opened, and Aayanar walked out. “Is it you, Gundodhara? Where were you all night? To think we trusted –” He caught sight of Sathrugnan and Vajrabahu. “Who are these?”

“Didn’t I tell you, Master, of two men I met yesterday, who were interested in sculpture and art? I searched for them all night and stumbled upon them at dawn. They wished very much to see you – so here they are,” replied Gundodharan.

“Is that so? You are very welcome, then. Sivakami, my dear, do set the manai out, will you?” called out Aayanar.

Sivakami, who stood just behind Aayanar, hastened to carry out his request. The visitors entered and sat down, along with Aayanar; Sivakami, also pressed to take a seat, steadfastly refused. She much preferred, instead, to gaze at the newcomers avidly.

“Gundodharan did mention your interest in art and sculpture,” Aayanar began, formally. “Where do you hail from?”

“Master, do you really not recognize me?” asked Sathrugnan.

“I am afraid not, my man. Were you my student, at any time?”

“Certainly, Sir. Perhaps you could ask Lady Sivakami? I am sure she remembers me.”

“I do, Appa,” Sivakami volunteered. “He was your student for two or three days, I believe.”

“I seem to bring misfortune upon my own head, often,” mourned Sathrugnan. “You left for Maamallapuram within days of my arrival –”

“And within days of my arrival at Maamallapuram, all work ground to a halt. I do not know why this wretched war ever began, or when it will ever end!” declared Aayanar, with a huge sigh.

“Just a little patience, Aayanar. Everything will be over soon, and you shall take residence, once again, in your beautiful forest home,” assured Vajrabahu.

His voice startled Aayanar. “Who might you be, Ayya?” he queried, staring hard at the man.

“Do you really not recognize me, Aayanar?”

“You do look familiar, but –”

Sivakami chose this moment to approach her father, and whisper into his ear. “It’s the Emperor, Appa. Don’t you recognize him?”

Aayanar listened to her words, struck with amazement, and gazed keenly at Vajrabahu’s face. The next instant, he had risen from his seat. “My Liege – what sort of a disguise is this? Why, I never knew it was you!”

“Indeed, Aayanar, only now do I feel any contentment about my ability
to don a disguise,” said Mahendra Pallavar. “Not even standing in front of Pulikesi and delivering a message to his face afforded me such satisfaction.”

“Pallavendra, when Gundodharan mentioned two men who had looked at the boulders in this village and talked about rock-cut temples, you were the first person who came to my mind,” poured out Aayanar. “No one else except our beloved Emperor, I thought, could even conceive of such glorious things. And it is you! Did you truly come here just to see this poor sculptor? How long it has been, since our last meeting – as though aeons have passed!”

“Aayanar, I may have come to you in disguise – but I have no wish to lie, as well. I came here, not to visit you, but in search of my son Maamallan.”

Sivakami lowered her head, suddenly overcome by bashfulness.

Aayanar stammered a little, at this revelation. “But, Pallavendra, Maamallar left the village last night! Didn’t Gundodharan tell you?”

“Maamallan and Paranjyothi are, doubtless, on their swift way to Kanchi, by now. I merely thought I would pay you a visit, and offer my gratitude for saving my son,” said the Emperor.

“Sire, far from it. We did not save The Crown Prince – rather, it was he who arrived at the right moment, and saved us from drowning in a terrible flood!”

“True – I do know it. But it is also true that you saved him. And when I say you, I mean your daughter, specifically. Here, look at this dagger.” And the Emperor held out the snake-handled knife.

Aayanar and his daughter stared at the murderous instrument, struck by a strange, unexplained sense of terror.

“This dagger was to have been plunged into Maamallan’s unsuspecting back, Aayanar. He escaped such a terrible fate only because Sivakami was by his side.”

Sivakami shuddered. The thought that this evil dagger was to have been thrust into the Lord of her heart was a severe blow; it was as though someone had plunged the dagger into her own heart. That she had been the means of saving him! Exhilaration coursed through her veins. But how had she been the instrument that saved him? The thought puzzled her no end.

“Sire, what is this that you say? Was this dagger meant to kill Maamallar? Good god, who would dare to commit such a heinous act? Why would they? And how did Sivakami save him from it? This is all very mysterious – Sivakami, do you know anything of this?” Aayanar pelted the Emperor with questions.

“It would be quite pointless to ask Sivakami anything – she is unaware of the circumstances. I shall reveal all, when the time comes. In any case, all danger is now past; Maamallan is probably well on his way towards Kanchi – and it is time I made my farewells, as well,” said the Emperor. “Aayanar, you are quite satisfied with Mandapapattu, aren’t you? You would like to stay here until the war ends, wouldn’t you?”

“That is my intention, Sire. The people of this village appear to be extremely interested in the arts. They are kind-hearted as well, and have promised to help me in carving rock-cut temples.”

“I shall do my part as well. I believe I will instruct the Thirukkovilur Kottam Officers to supply you with all the resources, men and tools that you may need, for your work.”

“Would it be possible for you to stay here at least a day, Pallavendra? I should like so much to tour the rock-faces and boulders here, to determine the kind of temples and figurines they would make.”

Mahendra Pallavar gave vent to a laugh. “Aayanar, Vathapi’s forces are within three kaathams of Kanchi, it seems. I must reach the city before them.”

“Is that so?” enquired Aayanar, looking worried. “But isn’t Kanchi more than seven kaathams from here? How will you arrive in time, Sire?”

“That does not worry me. Kannabiraan awaits with my chariot, across the river.”

Sivakami glanced at Aayanar, at this. “I would like to know about Kamali’s health, Appa. Could you ask him?”

“Kamali is very well, my dear. Kannabiraan was very desirous of delivering news about her to you, but it was I who forbade him to do so.”

Sivakami glanced at her father again. “Appa, ask him to send us news once Kamali’s child is born.” Shyness overcame her; for some reason, she found it difficult to even look up into the Emperor’s face.

“As you wish, Sivakami. I shall make arrangements to send you the news. Aayanar – it is time I left? Shall we take a look at your famous rocks and boulders on our way? Would you be able to accompany me?”

“Indeed I shall, Sire,” assented Aayanar. “What else could be more important?”

“Ah, I seem to have forgotten something important,” the Emperor said, and took out a hexagonal insignia, from his shoulder-bag. He displayed it to Aayanar. “Do you recognize this?”

“I do, Sire. It is a Lion Insignia.”

“Yes – and as of now, there are only eleven pieces existent, in the Pallava Empire. I am giving the twelfth piece to you. Keep this in your possession and display it as needed; every officer in the Pallava country will jump to obey your every command when they see it. Any and every fort will open its gates to you. With this, you have the right to meet me and Maamallan at any time you choose. I am entrusting you with this insignia, that it may prove useful to you during these war-torn times. Be very careful indeed – do not use it unless the situation is dire,” warned the Emperor, and handed over the insignia.

Aayanar hesitated. “Sire, why do I, a poor sculptor, need such a thing?”

“Aayanar – there is no wealth that I cherish more, in this Empire, than you and your daughter. Who knows? This insignia might prove useful to you, sometime. Guard it very carefully,” and the Emperor handed it over.

Aayanar, who could find no reason to refuse it after this, received it reverently. “Sivakami, my dear, lock this away in our case, would you?”

Sivakami duly took it, and entered the backroom, to where their belongings were placed. The women of some of the village’s richer families had come together and given her a beautifully decorated box to store her dresses and ornaments; Sivakami opened it and stowed the insignia safely into it.

Someone stood behind a pillar in the room, minutely watching Sivakami put away the insignia in her box.

It was Naganandhi.