Chapter 1/26: Approach to Taravati

Part 1/2 of the novella ‘The cursed keris of Taravati’

Valli walked along the sandy path. Recent traces of ox carts and palace chariots marked the way. The previous night’s thunderstorm had made the path soggy and slippery. A stream, unexpectedly swollen by the rain, flowed through the thickets of cogon grass on either side, creating a lush, fortress-like passage to the palace of Taravati.

The grass blooms drooped towards the earth, like a bride within her wedding pavilion. Raindrops on the grass and its blooms glittered like a pearl-stringed mathapatti tracing the bride’s hairline. The dense growth of grass gave way to fertile farmland filled with clove plants, some ready to bloom. In the distance, lines of coconut trees led to the towering Mount Ranadhira.

Valli walked steadily, enjoying the sight of cloves, ginger plants and pepper creepers. Her newly woven cotton saree rustled softly with each step. Her brown face was adorned with three lines of sacred ash and a bright red kumkum dot, slightly larger than usual. Her hair bun indicated that her hair was long and healthy. A peacock feather enhanced her beauty. Two strings of pearl and coral formed an arc, ending at the hooks pinned to her hairline above her ears. The makara kundala, fish-motif earrings set with ruby stones, swung in rhythm with her measured gait. Fine carnelian beads and medium-sized pearl beads, connected by a silver thread and fastened with fish-motif hooks, formed a beautiful necklace that graced her neck. Her hands swung gently, like a snake crafted from the heartwood of an ebony tree from the Podhigai Hills, which separated the Pandya and Chera kingdoms in her homeland. The sacred stick in her palm felt warm, signaling that she was on her way to conduct her fortune-telling.

She had been expecting palaces like those in her motherland. Instead, she was somewhat disappointed to see slightly larger houses, thatched with coconut and palm leaves or cogon grass. Security guard posts were built in the trees, supported by bamboo. This appeared to be the city’s edge, as she noticed a lush rainforest behind the palace, ending at the banks of the Manvi River, its water turned reddish-yellow by the recent heavy rain. She mused that a river with transparent water resembled humans with tamo-guna, while the river with rainwater resembled those with rajo-guna.

She entered the grounds easily, finding them poorly guarded. A few guards were going about their work and some men and women were cleaning cloves and placing them into sacks. The chirping of bulbuls and the rhythm of flowing water filled the air. It seemed more like a large landlord’s residence than a royal dwelling.

As she approached the entrance, a middle-aged woman, who appeared to be an attendant, emerged from the doorway. Valli was led to an inner sanctum-like room, lit by several oil torches. Coils of cloth soaked in oil lamps were screwed onto iron stems with brass handles, tucked inside holders on the wall.

A small sculpture of Prajna Paramita, the Buddhist goddess of wisdom, sat in peaceful meditation. Nearby, a teak ornamental chair with soft red silk cushions on the seat and armrests invited rest. As time passed, Valli realized that the noises from outside were not heard within the room. She deduced that the room must be double-walled, as the attendant had opened two doors, one after the other, to enter. Valli had heard of such secret halls in the Pallava kingdom, but this was her first experience with one.

“The Maharani is arriving,” the lady attendant announced as she opened the door.

Valli stood up, her palms in a greeting position. As the double doors parted, Valli’s breath caught slightly. The queen Parvata Vardini‘s entrance was an example of quiet dignity. Despite the small entrance, she moved with regal grace that commanded attention.

The first thing Valli noticed was the queen’s posture. Even as she bowed her head to enter, there was an inherent strength in her bearing. The dim light of the oil torches cast a warm glow on the queen’s skin, revealing a face of serene beauty. Her features were delicate yet strong, with eyes that held a depth of wisdom and a hint of sadness. With her aquiline nose and full lips, Valli thought the queen would be divinely beautiful if she smiled.

Valli’s eyes were drawn to the queen’s attire. Though not overly ostentatious, it was clear that her clothing was of the finest quality. A richly patterned kain wrapped her lower body, its colors muted yet vibrant in the torchlight. A flower and bird patterned dark red kemben covered her upper torso, and it appeared to be made of a very fine material, likely made and woven locally in Taravati. Subtle gold jewelry adorned her neck and wrists, catching the light with a soft shimmer. Her hair, styled in a neat and elegant fashion, was adorned with small, intricate ornaments, suggesting a semi-formal or casual meeting.

Valli moved a step forward towards the queen and greeted her with folded hands. Parvata Vardini’s gesture conveyed acceptance, and her hands gestured Valli to sit. Valli noted the queen’s hands, delicate yet firm. They bore no signs of excessive adornment, suggesting a woman of inner strength rather than outward display. The queen’s movements were fluid and graceful as she sat down on the thick mattress on the floor. An aura of peace and tranquility surrounded her, a sense of inner calm that filled the room.

Despite her power, she carried herself with quiet humility. Valli sensed a deep intelligence and wisdom emanating from the queen, a quality that resonated with the goddess sculpture in the background.

“My dear young lady, you look strong as a palmyra sprout, yet you seem like a girl. Where have you come from?” Parvata Vardini began the dialogue.

Valli perceived a hint of confusion in the queen’s face, her voice sounding like an excited girl playing with her favorite pet.

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Note:

• The fiction is a retelling of a historic event.
• Images generated with ImageFx and Imagen of Google Gemini.
• Awkward sentences are removed by AI for a smoother reading experience.