Manimekalai stood looking at Vandiyathevan's face. He stood smiling, his mind racing — what could he say to this girl, and how could he escape?
From somewhere outside came a voice: "My lady! Did you call me?"
"No, go about your work!"
Her moment of confusion passed. She bolted the opening through which he had entered, then led him aside and turned.
"Tell me the truth. You said Chandramathi called you here. Is that really true?"
"Yes, my lady! After you left the hunting hall, she looked at me and said — 'Monkey! Will you come to my room? Useful for frightening away unwanted visitors!' Perhaps those words did not reach your ears."
Manimekalai smiled faintly. "If they had, I would not have left her alone."
"What is the use of being angry with your friend? If my face and the monkey's are alike, what can she do about it?"
"There is a great distance between your face and the monkey's."
"Like the distance between the monkey's face and the owl above it."
"Your face is neither. But you have all the monkey's tricks. Was it not you who peeped into this mirror earlier?"
"Yes, Princess. But when I looked, next to my face I saw what seemed like a celestial maiden. Fearing I might startle her, I let go of the ivory tusk and the door shut by itself."
"Do you know who that celestial maiden was?"
"Later I understood — Lady Manimekalai, before whom celestial maidens themselves would bow. And the dear sister of my beloved friend Kandanmaran."
Manimekalai's brows drew together. "Kandanmaran is your beloved friend? The very man you stabbed in the back?"
"God! What a lie! I carried the unconscious Kandanmaran to Sendhan Amudhan's hut and saved his life. Who told you such a thing?"
"My own brother."
"Did he say why I would have wanted to kill him?"
"He said you insulted me — called me ugly, said the women of Thanjavur were more beautiful. He beat you for it, and you stabbed him from behind."
"I would rather cut off my tongue than call you ugly! It was Kandanmaran who insisted I forget his sister — because great emperors were waiting to marry you."
"And you forgot me completely?"
"I could not. But from that moment I thought of you only as a dear sister. Take me to Kandanmaran — let me clear this false impression."
"So that you can finish in Kadambur what you began in Thanjavur?"
"Would I come searching for him in his own palace to kill him? My lady, Kandanmaran himself may have arranged those men to come after me. Call him — let him kill me with his own hands if he wishes. Why send others?"
"Kandanmaran is not in town. He went to Kanchi to bring Prince Karikalan here. By tomorrow night everyone will have arrived." She paused. "You cannot leave now — when Pazhuvettarayar arrives, not even a fly can enter unnoticed. If he finds you here, he will have you cut down on the spot."
"I hear he is very attached to his queen."
"The whole land knows it. When they came eight months ago, he would not even let her enter the women's quarters." She thought for a moment. "Kandanmaran has a separate armory in this palace. I will hide you there until he returns tomorrow evening. You can settle matters with him directly."
"If he asks how I came to be there, what do I say?"
"Tell the truth."
He gestured toward the wall. "You yourself don't believe the truth I am telling you — even with those men still in the next room."
"I shall test that right now. I am going into the hunting hall to question them."
"They are dangerous men—"
She drew a small folding knife from her waist. "No one can touch me in my own palace. Hide near that wooden store-room. I will return shortly."
Vandiyathevan moved toward it. The doors stood open — inside were shelved musical instruments rising in steps to the roof. A yazh, a veena, drums, cymbals.
Manimekalai walked into the hunting hall without hesitation. Vandiyathevan marveled at her courage.
Then another door opened and Chandramathi rushed in. "My lady! My lady! The people from Thanjavur have reached the fort gate!"
She looked around. Vandiyathevan slipped into the instrument room. She moved toward the hunting hall doorway and he climbed a few steps to stay out of sight. His knee struck a veena — it rang out. He climbed higher. His head struck the upper wooden panel.
It shifted.
He pushed it fully aside and climbed through to the upper terrace — the very terrace where he had once listened to the chieftains' deadly conspiracy from behind the pillars.
Below, from the main gate, drums and trumpets roared. Pazhuvettarayar's entourage had arrived and the entire palace had rushed to receive them. The terrace and courtyard were deserted.
He moved quickly to the outer wall. He spotted unused bamboo poles from the dance shed, fetched one, leaned it against the wall and began to climb. Halfway up it started to slip — then steadied, as though caught by a hand from above. He grabbed the top of the wall and pulled himself up. The pole fell behind him with a crash, swallowed by the roar at the gate.
On the terrace a woman's silhouette stood watching. He could not help himself — with a small wave as if to say I am off now, he swung over and climbed down the outer side, using the rough stone and tree branches to descend quickly.
He smiled, thinking of how he had outwitted Manimekalai.
Then he heard what seemed like an answering laugh.
His blood went cold.
He looked down. A dog waited below, ready to leap at him.
Climb back up, or jump down? Vandiyathevan's legs swung helplessly as the dog leapt upward at him, jaws open.