Recap:

Valli, a fortune teller, narrates the intertwined lives of Narobha, a robber of divine origin, and Tara, a virtuous woman forced into marriage with the tyrant Tungabhadra. Narayana Bhattar, a cunning Brahmin, mentors Narobha, aiming to seize power. Tungabhadra’s oppressive rule and Narobha’s obsession with Tara set the stage for conflict at a grand religious gathering.

Chapter 9/26: Intricate Conspiracy

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

Tara asked her attendants to bring Valli to the war room once again. That day, Tara entered, offered prayers to the Prajna Paramita sculpture, and smiled at Valli before sitting on the mattress. Valli, sensing Tara’s eagerness to continue the story, resumed her narration.

“Narayana Bhattar explained that assassinating Tungabhadra was not as simple as Narobha imagined. To succeed, Narobha would need a magical keris, a dagger of Suwarnadvipa, an island nation in the east.”

A magical keris was no ordinary dagger. It was not merely cast iron shaped in a wavy pattern, but a weapon imbued with mantras, designed to awaken the dormant gods within it.

Though the religious event had concluded, Narayana and Narobha remained in Taravati to establish contacts and execute their plan.

Narobha pondered how to acquire such a keris. He recalled his gambling friend, Pangan Sambatti, who had useful connections.

Narobha contacted his friend, who directed him to Maran Saththan of Panaikulam village in Durgavati. Maran was an expert smith, well-versed in the Atharva Veda.

“It can be done,” Maran said, “but such a keris will cost around 100 gold coins, and I require a year.”

“That’s exorbitant!” Narobha exclaimed.

Maran retorted, “Then take a common dagger. Do not ask me to customize.” He closed the conversation. Narobha ordered the keris and paid an advance of 20 gold coins.

Meanwhile, Narayana Bhattar secured a position at the nearby Ananta Sayani Kesava Perumal temple in Taravati. One evening, he waited at the temple doors for someone. Narobha sat near the demon sculpture on the short compound wall.

“Come down, Narobha,” Narayana said, his voice laced with his characteristic bray-like laughter. “For a moment, I thought there were two bhootham-s.”

Narobha jumped down and sat on the raised platform near the Hanuman shrine. “Isn’t it late for sayaraksha?” he asked.

“I’m awaiting an important person, today’s donor.”

Before Narayana finished, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the temple doors. A palanquin, carried by four men, arrived. A golden finger, adorned with a ring of red coral surrounded by emeralds, parted the red velvet screen of the palanquin.

“It was you,” Valli inquired, “do you recall emerging and entering the temple, where Narayana Bhattar greeted you, Rani?”

Tara remained silent. Valli continued.

“Maharani Sri Devi’s arrival made the hour feel auspicious. almost as if Sridevi herself had come to Vishnu. Welcome,” Narayana Bhattar offered formal greetings.

Parvata Vardini entered the temple, followed by her attendants carrying shining brass plates laden with garlands made of jasmine and tulsi, loose hibiscus flowers and tulsi leaves, aromatics such as sandalwood, agil, and powdered benzoin, and auspicious items like sindoor and turmeric.

Shortly after, Tungabhadra, the king, arrived at the temple. Though he had little interest in Shaivism, Vaishnavism, Buddhism, or the nascent Islam, he felt pressured to appease the priests and, by extension, the people. With a forced smile, he accepted the formal greetings and offered a silk and cotton mixed sarong as his contribution.

As the temple bells tolled with the chant of “Om Om Om,” the royal couple entered the ardha mandapa, and Narayana Bhattar began the sayaraksha pooja for Ananta-Sayani with her consorts Sri Mahalakshmi. They worshiped Sri Andal in her dedicated shrine. No one was permitted to remain during the worship, not even the queen’s attendants. Narayana Bhattar concluded the pooja and offered prasadam to the king and queen.

Later, Narayana’s attendants escorted Tungabhadra to the circular path around the temple, where offerings for the people were arranged. As Tungabhadra emerged from the ardha mandapa, people were permitted to approach him and receive gifts. Those who received gifts blessed and greeted Tungabhadra, furthering his aims.

Narobha, captivated by the queen, lost his composure. He did not follow her, but observed the pooja from a distance. He noticed Narayana engaging Parvata Vardini in a serious discussion. Despite the lack of argument, the discussion clearly concerned a serious matter, and worry was evident.

Narobha stood prominently in the path of the procession around the temple. The queen wore a white kemban and a floral motif batik, likely imported from Suwarnadvipa. Though he had seen her during her ritual bathing in the river, he was struck anew by her beauty. He thought, “Tungabhadra was no fool to commit such a crime. If I were king, I would have abducted her too! She is utterly captivating.”

After distributing the offerings, the royal couple prepared to depart in Tungabhadra’s chariot. Narayana paused Tungabhadra before he left, calling Narobha to his side.

“This is the man I mentioned,” Narayana said.

“I know him well.. very well..” Tungabhadra replied angrily.

“Dear King” Narayana began. “The past is past! He now walks the path of Dharma, and I guide him towards eternity. His skills can be used for good. He has promised me he will be a worthy guard, protecting you from the rebels who seek to usurp your throne.”, he then turned to Narobha and gestured an order.

Narobha bowed respectfully and murmured “I will be the King’s guard and his shadow. Whoever opposes him will first face my sword.”

Tungabhadra looked deeply into Narobha without replying, then he turned his eyes to Narayana Bhattar.

“You speak well, Brahmana. You are a wise man from Tamil land, educated in Kanchipuram and Kannauj. I will consider your words and give you my decision.” Narayana took the absence of a negative reply in Tungabhadra’s response as a positive sign. Narobha was struck by the contrast between Narayana’s skill and Tungabhadra’s lack of intelligence.

The chariot carried the royal couple away, its wheels leaving impressions on the wet sand. The empty palanquin followed, mirroring the emptiness in Narobha’s mind.

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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.