A vast ground capable of holding ten thousand people had been prepared for the coronation. It was large enough to accommodate powerful regimental representatives. I stood at the center of the stage, surveying each section as workers toiled tirelessly under the scorching sun. The stadium was adjacent to the spiraling path of the fort, and all nearby housing had been vacated to accommodate guests arriving from every corner of the island.
Uthagan soldiers marched in formation and created a protective ring around Amirtha. She smiled at me, walked past the soldiers, and handed me a scroll.
“Before sending the Emperor’s personal invitations, he wanted you to confirm them,” she said.
I opened the scroll and began reading the list of invites—from Swarpa to Anniyur. A smile spread across my face when I reached the names: Selvan and Kani of Pathukala.
Amirtha continued, her tone laced with distaste.
“The Emperor has kept his promise. He will recognize Pathukala and rebuild Kalam—if they agree to bend the knee.”
She dismissed her soldiers with a gesture. We began walking toward her chariot.
“May I ask you something?” I said.
She turned back, surprised, then nodded.
“Why do you hate the Pathukalans so much?”
She exhaled heavily and lowered her head.
“Burnt history doesn’t just erase Pathukalan pride—it also conceals the horrors they inflicted for centuries.”
I realized I knew nothing of this history. As I waited, she continued.
“Today they may seem harmless, and the Emperor has chosen to forgive their past atrocities, but the scars they left on the Uthagans will never fade. Everyone in the Chakran Empire thinks we stand with the Emperor only for favors. But every Uthagan is grateful to Emperor Thejan for liberating us from the Pathukalans.”
She paused.
“The entirety of Uthaga will hate you for recognizing Pathukala. But I will convince them.”
We reached the chariot.
“The Emperor has ordered Katamaran, Gandar squad leader, to personally deliver the message to Kaankottai Selvan. I hope this makes you happy.”
I was still scanning the scroll, searching for Sikala’s name.
She noticed what I was looking for and smiled.
“Ankalans and Sathyera follow matrilineal laws. Their invitations have already been sent by Empress Parandvani.”
Four Gandar squad members in full armor marched up to the chariot. Katamaran planted his spear shaft into the ground and thumped his chest in salute. I nodded; they stood at ease. Amirtha dropped the special invitation into Katamaran’s hands, careful not to touch him. I was surprised they observed this custom even with their top commander.
Ignoring protocol, I grabbed him by the shoulder and started walking toward the palace. The other three squad members picked up his spear and followed.
“Why did you have to come all this way just to collect a scroll, Katamaran?”
He kept his head lowered.
“No, my prince. Our new spies in Ankala, planted by Minister Senga, have sent something urgent.”
He produced a small palm-leaf letter. We were now surrounded by commoners building tents and carrying wooden beams.
I pushed his hand down.
“Isn’t it surprising that we never had ears inside Ankala or Sathyera, yet they’ve had spies in our capital for decades?” I said, looking at him.
“Yes, my prince, but…”
“But?”
“May I speak freely, my prince? I don’t wish to overstep.”
“Speak freely, Commander. I respect you as an advisor.”
“Emperor Thejan never considered them equals. He deliberately left spies in their capitals. That’s what we believed—until the war with Ankala two years ago. He knew their army was coming, marched first, and ended the war before it truly began. He maintains his own secret network, one no one else knows about.”
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I nodded. He had been sitting in the Hira gardens, aware of every step I took.
“Isn’t he unmatched—both on the throne and in the field? Have you ever seen anyone greater, Katamaran?”
“On the throne, he is the greatest.”
“And on the battlefield?”
“I would always say the finest warrior I have ever seen in my life is none other than your brother, my prince.”
“Wait—you knew him? You never told me!”
“He treated me with respect. He recommended me to the Aadhi Regiment. He made me who I am today. We fought together at Anniyur and Vakkanam. We even attended the Great Kandanchi Tournament—and won.”
“Kandanchi Tournament?”
“Yes, my prince. A decade ago we won the Kandanchi tournament. That is where he met and fell in love with the Sathyera princess, heir to their throne. She gifted him the emerald crown he always wore—defying the Emperor’s command to wear only the ruby crown.”
I was learning things about my brother I had never known. I felt he should never have left Chakra—and how different my own life might have been because of his choice.
We ascended toward the palace. I opened the scroll Amirtha had given me.
“Katamaran, be diplomatic. Don’t kill any Pathukalans. Remember—she could one day be your Empress.”
His eyes widened in surprise.
“Ha! What could the Emperor do? Abandon me? I’m his last hope before retirement!” I laughed, climbing faster until I stood on higher ground than him. I waited.
“I am happy for you, my prince. Please—look at this.” He handed me the palm-leaf letter from Senga’s spies in Ankala wrote as a poem to disguise the commoner
I read it, brow furrowed.
“Why are they requesting help from Sathyera to track down the golden cloaks? And who is Uji?”
“Do you know anything about this, my prince?”
“Yes—it’s a long story. But he could never trace it back to me.”
“I know Uji, my prince. And I believe you are underestimating him. He should be dealt with soon.”
“You know him?” I looked at him, startled.
“We fought him in the Kandanchi tournament. He lost only to your brother and tried to kill himself on the field—but your brother stopped him. He hates Chakrans to his core. He was behind the attacks on Uthagan villages.”
I was stunned.
“Very well. Instruct our Ankalan spies to keep watch on him and report everything to me.”
I handed him the Emperor’s invitation and smiled.
“Convey the message. Let’s hope for the best.”
Katamaran rode to the fort’s stable, mounted his horse, and descended the spiral path. He passed the guards, empty guest houses, and the farmland glistening with water, ready for the next sowing. He rode past Valoor temple and reached the Chenna delta before sunset.
He reunited with old friends from the Aadhi Regiment and received blessings from King Aadhi.
Early the next morning, he boarded the regiment’s boat and crossed the mighty Chenna River. He entered the Agam forest, dismounted, and walked cautiously, blade in hand.
He heard a woman crying and peered from a distance.
Three women surrounded another who cradled an injured child. Kani was treating the boy. Even after forty years in the forest, many still lacked the customs needed to survive its dangers. Animal attacks on children were common, and summer brought fear to everyone.
Katamaran looked closer. The child’s chest bore deep tiger claw marks; some bones were exposed.
He stepped out alone. The villagers froze at the sight of a fully armored Chakran warrior approaching with a drawn blade.
He placed his sword on the ground and announced,
“I carry a message and an invitation from the Chakran Emperor Thejan.”
People scattered. Children shouted, “Usurper! Usurper!” A stone flew past him, narrowly missing.
At the far end, he saw hope flicker in some eyes.
Tabi and his men surrounded him with tied spear shafts and forced him to walk toward the main hut.
With Kani’s help, Selvan emerged from the hut and sat on a wooden throne. Kani stood beside her grandfather, her hands twisting with excitement. Tabi looked concerned.
Selvan raised a hand, signaling the messenger to speak.
The spear shafts lowered. Katamaran took out two scrolls.
“I, the chosen messenger for Pathukala, bring an invitation and a message from Chakran Emperor Thejan.”
A portion of the crowd shouted again.
Selvan raised his hand to keep silence.
“My beloved son Adhiyavan is to be crowned Prince of the Chakran Empire. I am willing to set our past aside, Kaankottai Selvan. I would be honored if you and your granddaughter Kani attend the coronation at Chakran Fort.”
Some in the crowd murmured in surprise. Kani raised her hand for quiet.
“When is the coronation?” she asked.
Selvan smiled, allowing her the moment.
“This new moon day.”
Tabi tapped his spear shaft.
“Address her as Princess, messenger.”
“My Princess.”
Some looked angry; others confused.
Selvan smiled.
“Now read the message.”
Katamaran swallowed hard, glanced at the mix of hopeful and furious faces, and began:
“My days as Emperor are numbered. I wish to leave my son a clean, trouble-free empire. So I wish to end this long cat-and-mouse chase, my brother Selvan.”
The crowd gasped.
“I want to end this rivalry. Name your heir and accept the Chakran Empire.”
More shouts erupted, but Katamaran continued.
“We will recognize Pathukala as a feudatory kingdom. As reparation, I will rebuild Kalam to its former glory and restore the old route to Anniyur.”
Kani looked at Selvan with hope, clutching his armrest. Tabi, watching her, appeared disappointed by her enthusiasm. The crowd buzzed.
Selvan raised his hand for order and smiled.
“The messenger has traveled far. Treat him as our esteemed guest. Let him rest. We will give our response as a community tomorrow. Is that acceptable, messenger? By the way—what is your name?”
Katamaran bowed his head.
“I would be honored to deliver your response and accept your hospitality. My name is Katamaran.”
At the mention of his name, the crowd murmured again. Selvan smiled. Katamaran looked puzzled as two guards escorted him to a hut.
“Thejan chose the right man as messenger,” Selvan said quietly.
Katamaran turned to the guard.
“Why does he say that?”
The guard stared.
“Address him as Emperor, messenger. Understood?”
Katamaran remained confused.
“Have you ever seen your parents, messenger?” one guard asked.
He shook his head Nodding No.
“You look like you’ve seen forty summers,” the other said.
“I don’t know. I was an orphan in the capital—raised by guards, cooks, and chefs.”
The first guard chuckled.
“And all of a sudden you became a warrior. Haha. Go rest. Someone will bring food.”
Katamaran watched the guards leave as curious villagers gathered around them.
Hours later, he awoke to darkness. A torch approached. A woman carried food. As she drew near, he realized it was Kani. He hurried to take the tray from her.
Kani smiled.
“It’s alright. You are our esteemed guest. I’ll carry it.”
They entered the hut. The torch-bearer remained outside. Kani served him jackfruit and rabbit meat.
“Princess, you don’t have to serve a man like me,” he said, head lowered, thinking of his caste.
Kani smiled graciously.
“I don’t see differences in people—whether by power or position. You may call me Kani.”
He coughed. She immediately offered water in a clay vessel. Tears welled in his eyes.
“No, Princess. I could never. Prince Adhiyavan told me you are our future Empress.”
Kani blushed, covered her face, and turned aside.
“That Idiot! Did he really say that?”
With a mouthful of jackfruit, Katamaran nodded.
“Yes—yesterday, before I left.”
Kani smiled.
“Eat slowly.”
After dinner, Kani left with the torch-bearer. Katamaran stepped outside and sat by the lake, watching the village. Kani moved from home to home, inquiring, helping, tending.
He noticed a man beating drums. Handful of villagers, including Kani, entered Selvan’s hut.
Before going in, Kani glanced at Katamaran.
Inside, village leaders sat on the floor. Selvan occupied the wooden chair. Kani stood to his left. Hearing her anklets, Selvan took her hand.
“You may sit with them today, Kani.”
He then took Tabi’s hand.
“You stay with me, Tabi.”
Kani was surprised—she had always stood beside her grandfather. Today felt different.
Selvan continued.
“First, about the invitation. We have all met Adhiyavan—a charming young man, and close to my heart. We will accept the invitation. I would like Kani to coordinate and finalize the coronation gift.”
Kani smiled.
“Hearing the Chakran message, I know some of you are very angry, while others are very happy. We stand divided, and I recognize that. Therefore, I have decided—we divide.”
“Grandpa!” Kani cried.
“This is the proper solution for our people, Kani. Moving the entire village every two months has left us exposed. My people have suffered enough. I lost my father and my son to this cause. I will not let anyone else lose theirs. My verdict is final.
“Those who wish to return to Kalam may go. Those who wish to remain in Agam may stay. I will spend my final days here in Agam—no one must force me. Kani will lead those who go to Kalam. And I promise you: neither you nor the Chakran throne will interfere with those who remain.”
