Recap:

Valli narrates the tale of Narobha, a divine robber, and Tara, forced to marry King Tungabhadra. Driven by ambition and the manipulative Brahmin Narayana Bhattar, Narobha plots to kill Tungabhadra using a cursed keris stolen from its maker, whom he murdered. Rumors of the Keris’s magic spread, and Narobha rents it to his friend Nagalingam.

Chapter 12/26: Ladder to Treachery

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

Valli sat across from Queen Tara (a) Parvata Vardini in the war room, the dim glow of oil lamps casting long shadows on the intricate tapestries. Tara leaned forward, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her gaze unwavering as she listened to Valli’s every word. Valli, her own posture composed, occasionally gestured with a slender hand as she recounted the unfolding past, her eyes reflecting a knowing sadness.

“Rani,” Valli began, her voice a low murmur that filled the silent chamber, “even as the whispers of the magical keris spread through Taravati, and Nagalingam proudly displayed his rented prize, Narobha was meticulously positioning himself for his final, treacherous act…”

Narobha was already free to move within the palace. Indeed, he had been approved as a personal security guard for Tungabhadra upon Narayana Bhattar‘s recommendation. He made sure Tungabhadra didn’t hear the gossip about the keris. He threatened his knights, if they inform king about anything without his knowledge, will be treated as insubordination and punished.

Wherever the king’s palanquin, chariot, or horse traveled, Narobha was in tow. The king’s comfort of the moment was misleading and temporary, like a rat that has only briefly escaped a snake.

Narobha frequently had opportunities to see Parvata Vardini. The challenge was to observe her discreetly. When Tungabhadra was away, his gaze would often linger on her. Sensing his eyes on her, Parvata Vardini turned towards Naroba sharply, like a cobra raising its hood. Naroba would then look away. Even when king and queen travelled in chariot, she felt his gaze continuously which made her so uncomfortable.

On the other hand, Narayana Bhattar advices Narobha to support Tungabhadra by taking over his worries in management. Narobha streamlined the tax collection and he purposefully ensured he lead the procession of traders and citizens came to meet King to pay the tax and offerings. He made the tax offering nearly as a ritual. That made Tungabhadra very happy and freed from worries.

After trade, Narayana’s next target was local justice system. Narobha spread his influence towards local court; he built an image like he respects the jury, and bring the offenders to the court. He lobbied with the jury often, and arranged for meeting between jury and king often. This provide an image to jury, as if king pay them respect after Narobha came in. On the other hand, Tungabhadra thought, Narobha did everything with his presence.

He climbed multiple levels within the bureaucratic hierarchy. Before long, he ascended to the position of head of the armed forces.

On the first day of the new moon, the palace was abuzz with celebrations for Queen Parvata Vardini’s conception of the future king. Offerings were made at all the temples, and free food, including meat, was distributed widely. The palace offered sarongs, dried fruits, and nuts to the populace.

Tungabhadra was jubilant that day. Everyone greeted him with congratulations. He drank excessively that night. Parvata Vardini remained with the medics and priests, appearing content.

On the same day evening, Kaniyan Koothu festival, a celebration intended to appease the graveyard deity Sudalai Madan, was scheduled. Narobha told Tungabhadra that it is enough to leave the people to celebrate it and there is no need for royal presence. It was comfortable for Tungabhadra, who was tired already.

That evening, Narayana Bhattar departed from town saying he wanted to procure items for the temple. On the outskirts of the town, near the graveyard, he saw Kaniyan-s, conductors of Kaniyan Koothu festival, getting ready to conduct the festival. Annavi, the head kaniyan, was coordinating the activities. Couple of his team members dressed as females, few other kaniyan-s are unpacking the musical instruments like parai, kanjira, pambai, urumi and murasu.

At midnight, Narobha left his residence, not on horseback, but on foot; a collection of duplicate keys tucked into his waist, face covered with a black cloth. He moved with caution and speed.

The wind from the sea was unusually gentle, and the entire town was asleep. Narobha’s legs moved swiftly, as if driven by a singular, final destination. They halted at the rear of Nagalingam’s residence, the man who had acquired the keris from Narobha.

Looking in both directions, he carefully pulled apart the palm-stick fencing. The creaking sound caused him to pause momentarily. Then, placing his hands on the top of the fence, he vaulted over it. The grassy area beyond was wide and damp.

Familiar with the layout, Narobha reached the back door. His initial attempts to open it failed. He then tried a side window, which he found ajar. From his toolkit, he assembled several pieces to create a long rod, approximately of one person’s height, with an S-shaped hook at the end. He inserted this through the window gap to disengage the door latch. After some effort, the lock released from the inside. He slipped inside on tiptoe, like a kathak dancer. The keris was prominently displayed on a wooden table, flanked by two elephant tusks.

He carefully retrieved the keris, making no sound, and left the house, ensuring the door was closed behind him.

Note:

• This fiction is a retelling of a mythology.
• Images generated with ImageFx of Google Gemini.
• Awkward sentences are removed by AI for a smoother reading experience.