Recap:

Valli narrates the intertwined fates of Narobha, a robber of divine origin, and Tara, forced to marry the tyrant Tungabhadra. Guided by the cunning Brahmin Narayana Bhattar, Narobha seeks power. Obsessed with Queen Tara, he plots to assassinate the king with a magical Keris. Narobha murders the Keris maker and steals the unfinished weapon, which is now cursed. He rents the Keris to his friend Nagalingam, who unknowingly becomes a pawn in Narobha’s deadly game. In a calculated move, Narobha eliminates Nagalingam and retrieves the Keris, positioning himself closer to his ultimate goal: power and the Queen.

Chapter 13/26: Lethal Legacy

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

Valli continued her narration, her voice a steady thread weaving through the silence of the war room, transporting Queen Tara (a) Parvata Vardini back to those tumultuous days following her pregnancy. The flickering lamplight danced on Valli’s face, highlighting the gravity of the events she was recounting.

The Kaniyan Koothu performance pulsed with its characteristic energy at the graveyard. Annavi, the lead Kaniyan, sang with a powerful, hoarse voice, invoking the spirit of Sudalai Madan to possess the other Kaniyan performers. The forceful drumming amplified the intensity of the ritual, driving some of the Kaniyan participants to make vigorous and ferocious movements.

Meanwhile, far from the lively koothu grounds, Narobha moved swiftly along the footpath leading into the forest. This path followed the banks of the Manvi River towards the rear entrance of the palace.

With no moonlight, with some struggling, he came near the palace, where dim oil torches were burning; a few of them were put out due to exhausted cloth or dried oil. Narobha closed his face with a black cloth again.

Conveniently, he went inside by hiding from pillar to pillar, wall to wall. There was no tight security, except for a few who were sleepy themselves. He was there, in front of Tungabhadra’s bedroom.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there was no window nearby. But Narobha made calculations earlier. He went to the side where the scaffold ladder was kept leaning on the wall. Adjusting it suitably, he went to the top, opened the door by breaking the weak lock, and went to the bedroom of Tungabhadra by jumping through the window.

Tungabhadra was asleep with his wife. Infatuated, Narobha tried to look at her face, but the light was dim. Even in the dim light, he could see her cheeks glowing. With his heartbeat raised, he put his hand inside his shalve; the keris appeared in his hand.

On the Koothu ground, the drumming escalated into a frantic, deafening pulse, intertwined with the piercing shriek of the Nagasvaram reaching its terrifying zenith. The Kaniyan-s, now vessels for the bloodthirsty Sudalai Madan, whirled in a frenzy of uncontrollable motion. The sight of fresh banana sprouts smeared with crushed banana was presented to them, triggering guttural, animalistic growls that resonated with primal hunger.

A wave of feverish devotion seized another Kaniyan; with a raw cry, he slashed his own hand-skin, the crimson lifeblood gushing onto the offered banana. Then, a chilling stillness descended as the unseen presence of Sudalai Madan possessed Kaniyan-s, hungrily consuming the blood-soaked offering. The possessed performers erupted in a terrifying ecstasy, their bodies contorting and leaping as the drums pounded a relentless, feverish rhythm and the Nagasvaram screamed its high, unearthly note.

Narobha raised his hand, with full force, he penetrated Tungabhadra’s heart deep with the keris. With his voice struggling to rise, Tungabhadra struggled for life. As if possessed by Sudalai Madan, the keris appeared to feast on flesh, bone, and blood.

With his face covered with a black cloth, Narobha stood peacefully and watched until Tungabhadra’s breath subsided.

“So many wars were won by the unexpected side. Tungabhadra was the finest example. Rudeness alone did not help him. He fell to a simple game by Narayana and Narobha and fed a snake. On the other side….,” Valli became furious suddenly.

“I see you, with utter shock, open mouth, without voice, watching the puffing blood from Tungabhadra’s chest. O the lady who is so soft like a gloomy flower, you had no words to express. Your thoughts divided into two and opposed each other.”

Valli began to hum her song:
‘The king of this land, his reign is through.’
‘My father’s curse, it has rung true.’
‘His bitter words take hold.’
‘And I, with child beneath my breast, what future will unfold?’
‘My vengeance sought for brutal reign,
for blood that stained this ravaged plain,
has found its grim reply.
‘But oh, my babe, beneath my heart,
where will your safety have its start?
Beneath this weeping sky?’
‘No longer treated as an object to seize, I am human now,
..with newfound ease.
…with newfound ease.’“

With folded hands, with fists scuffling together near her jaw, Parvata Vardini was reactionless.

“Narobha revealed himself to you by removing his face mask briefly. With a triumphant smile, he covered his face once again and jumped from the window and ran inside the same footpath inside the jungle. He left the cursed keris on Tungabhadra’s heart.”

Parvata Vardini shouted with a high-pitched voice to bring the attendants. Everyone was so shocked. The Queen ordered the conch to be blown to announce an emergency. On hearing that, someone rang the gigantic bell by pulling a coconut fiber coir tied to its tongue. Everybody searched inside the footpath inside the jungle, but clever Narobha had reached the city on the other side. Similar to any other people of the town, he entered into the palace pretending to be in heavy shock.

Parvata Vardini was sitting on the bed with Tungabhadra’s head in her lap. Narobha put a sword in his hand and surveyed the room. Palace medics were there, and they removed the keris carefully.

“Give me that,” ordered Narobha.

Upon getting it, he looked into it.

“Half-finished Keris. This is the same Keris owned by Nagalingam… Maharani! I will bring the murderer in front of the law first thing in the morning… You Nagalingam… the cold blooded murderer…” Narobha roared and left swiftly. Parvata Vardini’s eyes were on Marajara’s.

Narobha came out and asked his guys to assemble. Before someone saw, he issued a verbal order to them.

“I’ll issue an order to arrest Nagalingam now. But you will go home only after two naligais (2 x 24 minutes). If you expose this to anyone, you know who I am. If a king is dead without heir, the head of the armed forces will be the next king, mind it.” On seeing the urgency, the general public rushed towards them to observe. Narobha changed his tone.

“Go and get me that Nagalingam, ruthless murderer. How dare you kill our king!”

On hearing this, the people became mad. They took whatever they found as a weapon—stick, axe, spear—and rushed towards Nagalingam’s house. People celebrate such moments. Keeping their rational minds away and just rejoicing in believing falsified truth, they join as a mob to target an individual. It happened. They broke the door of Nagalingam. As Narobha’s guys delayed, they started thrashing Nagalingam like anything. Before Narobha’s guys reached the place, Narobha went first with the same keris.

On seeing Narobha, Nagalingam opened his mouth to say, “Tell them I am innoc…” But Narobha stabbed him in his stomach and chest with the same Keris by roaring, “You bloody cheat and murderer. How dare you kill my king!” Nagalingam’s wife was shouting, her hands beating her own head out of inability to save her innocent husband, and her kids were crying. One of the kids was too small to understand his father was dead.

With successful execution, Narobha went to the palace again and knelt down before Parvata Vardini and announced, “The killer is dead, Maharani.”

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Note:

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