In Subahu's Royal Tent,
The secret kingdom-wide search for Narasimha had been expanded to include all neighboring kingdoms. The spies and Suras operating in all kingdoms, both allies and enemies were instructed to keep their ears open and inform anything unusual happening in their area of operation. Huge sums of money were announced as reward to the soldier or Sura who came up with a solid lead.

This whole operation was hampered by the fact that the news of the young Prince's disappearance could not be disclosed to the general public. Also very few people outside the captial of Mahishmati knew how their young Prince looked like. Narasimha had led an extremely closeted life at the palace of Mahishmati or away from the kingdom because of Subahu's need to be and remain a hero in his son's eyes. So there was no way Narasimha would be recognized or reported by anyone who might have actually seen him.

"Baava....", Vijayamarthanda's voice cracked up on seeing Subahu.

This was the lowest Vijayamarthanda had ever witnessed of his seemingly strong and impregnable brother-in-law. He had always assumed that nothing had the power to move him. But he was wrong. Watching him wallowing in a puddle of strong alchoholic liquor he had dropped, with no sense of who or where he was, he realized how inwardly fragile he was.

"Get a grip over yourself, brother. What would have happened if somebody else had happened on you at this moment. They could have assasinated you in a moment. We aren't exactly popular you know."

Subahu broke into a mad fit of laughter, "Tell me something new."

"I'll go. It's utterly useless speaking to you now. The Rajamata has sent a very important message. I'll speak about it in the morning when you are more sane", Vijayamarthanda muttered. "I'll instruct the captain to increase the number of guards outside your tent. Here...here....let me help you to your bed. I think you need some good sleep."

"You mean death", Subahu muttered incoherently.

Vijayamarthanda was momentarily stunned when he heard these words, "Everything seems immaterial and useless, Vijaya. Power, ambition, kingdoms, conquest, love and war. What will I do with them without my son, Vijaya?"

At the mention of the word 'son', Vijamarthanda's hard as granite brows softened up, "I have felt that so many times. God blessed me with a son who will never be able to rule my kingdom after me and cursed me with impotency after that to never be able to sire another son or even daughter for that matter."

He sighed with regret as he thought about his son, Prince Virupaksh who never grew up beyond the mental age of five despite the fact that he would be twenty-two in a couple of months. People called him mad, stupid, raving, impotent, unmanly, parasitic, and much more behind his back. He had grown tired telling them that Virupaksh was simply different.

He could have even banged his head against a wall but nobody would have understood how he felt. What about the day when he was no more? This world would mercilessly prey upon him like a hawk on a young fledgeling. He had been so desperate that he was ready to believe that even a sham marriage to a princess from a far off kingdom would be protection enough for his son when he was gone. But even that illusion was shattered when he realised that the marriage was not about to happen and the princess on whom he had pinned all his hopes was an imposter.

Vijayamarthanda lifted Subahu and placed his arms around his shoulders to support him. As he staggered under the weight of his brother-in-law's huge, humoungous and bulky frame while helping him to his bed, Vijaya poignantly remarked, "I think our sins are catching up with us, Subahu, and our progeny is paying the price for it."

He gave one parting look at the recumbent form of his brother-in-law and shook his head before he departed from there.
-
-
-
In a mountain hideout,
"Everything must go on, whether I am there or not." Aditya Varma exhorted his men to continue with the armed uprising just as they had planned.

"How can we proceed forward without you, Chief? Without you, our cause will be lost in Kunthala", his next-in-command pleaded.

"What would you have done if you had lost me in the line of action? Would your fervor and patriotism have died with me?"

His comrade hung down his head in silence.

"Ideals and patriotism fuel causes. I am just another face among countless faces, fighting for the cause of Kunthala. If our cause needs my face, it was never very strong to begin with. Life and breath to Kunthala!" Aditya Varma seeking a pledge from his comrades and soldiers

"Life and breath to Kunthala", shouted his comrades, as all of them parted ways with their chief.

They had all arrived at their hideout to make preparations for the armed uprising to retake Kunthala when the news that Bhavani had left for Sankaleshwar along with Narasimha and their trusted physician greeted them.

Bhavani was more his daughter than his niece. That day in the palace of Kunthala when he had despaired hearing her cries amidst those blood-tainted walls where all the people whom he held near to his heart had met an untimely end, he made two vows. One, to be instrumental in destroying the person who had wrought all this destruction. Two, to protect his little niece, Bhavani from all harm.

Aditya Varma had known since the beginning that the actual revenge would be somebody else's. He had known all these long years that Mahendra Baahubali's son, Gajendra Baahubali was alive and growing up in Subahu's own backyard as his son. This was even before he had known from Mrithyunjay that Bhagiradhi was also alive and had grown up in exile at the Malava islands.

Strange and mysterious are the ways of fate. The conclusion is sometimes written in the beginning itself. He and his brother had stood debating and arguing when they went to assassinate Subahu in the darkness of the night. That one moment had been enough to alert Subahu about the presence of intruders in his chamber and kill his brother.

But what Subahu hadn't known was what had held back the hand of the erstwhile King of Kunthala. He had seen the bright red birth mark on the infant's back, the very mark that had been there on the back of his cousin Mahendra Baahubali's son, Gajendra Baahubali's back.

They immediately knew that the real identity of the infant who lay asleep on Subahu's chest was Gajendra Baahubali. Judging that Gajendra would be safer in remaining wherever he was and growing up as Subahu's son than in remaining with him, Aditya escaped from the palace of Mahishmati to the mountains of the Udayagiri. He hadn't breathed about this to a single soul including his own niece, Bhavani in order to protect Gajendra.

"I am coming for you, Bhavani. You never told me about your friend. You perhaps assumed that I would be angry at what you had done. But what you don't know is that your friend isn't who he thinks he is. He is who you would never think he is. I think the time has come for several revelations", said Aditya to himself.
-
-
-
At Kanchu Kota,
Evading Subahu's soldiers and Suras at numerous check posts, defeating and silencing a secret search party of soldiers who became unduly suspicious about him and his activities, adopting various colorful and innovative disguises and dialects at all the roadside inns he stopped to fool any observers, Mrithyunjay reached Kanchu Kota.

Dirty looks; scared looks;and occasionally a stony silence greeted his discreet enquiries about the place and how to reach it. He began despairing if he would ever be able to make it there. He began wondering what horrid mysteries the fortress was hiding that it scared the living daylights out of the people to whom he asked simple questions about it.

Towards the last lap of his quest, he encountered a mad man. He rudely pelted him with stones as though to chase him away from the place, "Go away. Whoever goes ahead meets his doom."

The man had long matted tresses of hair, dark sun-burnt skin, a severely bent back apart from a limp in one of his legs. The man must have been very tall and handsome in his prime. Mrithyunjay wondered who the man could possibly be and why he seemed so insistent on spiriting him away from Kanchu Kota. But thoughts of meeting his father after so many years pushed the thoughts about the madman to the background.

The Kanchu Kota loomed ahead of him; a huge, dark, steep and impenetrable wall of copper that seemed to have no visible entry points or exits, "How am I going to infiltrate into that huge wall of copper? Should I bend, break or melt it?"

He tried to make sense of what he was seeing before him but in vain. He opened his father's message and reread it. He had done this countless number of times in the past couple of days. He wondered, "Father must have implied a deeper, hidden meaning within this message. Why am I unable to decipher it?"

He tried to read between the lines of the message, "This is the true story of Mahishmati ...We want it to go beyond the fortress of lies....He talks about a fortress. The only fortress here is Kanchu Kota. Is the Kanchu Kota a lie? An illusion?"

Mrithyunjay  continued reading, "The wall of misinformation and disambiguation....Either these walls don't exist or they are simulating something else.....Crossing the valley of death...It means that I have to cross a valley somewhere to find what I seek. But I don't see a valley anywhere. I actually see nothing except huge copper walls."
-
-
-
At Urumi Nachiyar's Headquarters,
Narasimha and Bhavani reached Urumi Nachiyar's headquarters. They informed the guards at the entrance that they had come to deliver the washed clothes. After being throughly checked, they were let in.

Nachiyar was practicing on her Urumi and teaching the kids of her camp about it, "The Urumi or whip blade is a difficult weapon to wield. It is like a double-edged sword. In the hands of an inexperienced hand, it ends up hurting the person who wields the weapon instead of hurting the enemies."

She swished, twirled and swung about the Urumi with perfect ease, hitting targets at will. Narasimha and Bhavani watched spellbound at the consummate skill with which Nachiyar fought. Nobody could have ever got within an arm's length of Nachiyar in any field of battle without getting wounded.

Bhavani and Narasimha were told where to keep the clothes they had bought with them before being led out. When they came outside Nachiyar's cottage after keeping the clothes, the class had dispersed.

Nachiyar was nowhere in sight. But her weapon Urumi gleamed and dazzled beckoningly in the rising rays of the sun. Narasimha surreptitiously touched the weapon. Bhavani tugged and pulled at him, "Psst...Nachiyar isn't here. We aren't going to learn anything today. Let's try our luck tomorrow."

She saw which way his thoughts were inclined, "It's a nice weapon. But you'll get us caught with your curiosity."

But even before she had completed the last sentence, Narasimha had lifted the Urumi in his hand and was about to mimic the way he had seen Nachiyar do it before his hand was held back. It was Nachiyar  who had returned at that exact same moment.

Narasimha was about to explain what he had been about when Bhavani gulped and gasped, "Err...Sorry Mam. I think I and my friend are already running late. We have to deliver washed clothes for my uncle at many places. I think we should get going."

Bhavani literally caught hold of Narasimha's hand and ran when Nachiyar shouted to the guards, "Stop them!"

They were surrounded by guards. Narasimha muttered in her ears, "Kshatrani it wasn't my curiosity that got us caught. Your panic and over-intelligence did it."

"Who are you? You'd better have a good explanation or else....", Nachiyar warned ominously.
-
-
-
Author's Note:
Dear friends and readers, thank you for staying with me and my story. I wouldn't have persisted and written beyond Book One of this story if all of you hadn't been so encouraging and motivating towards me. I have written a story update after a very long break. Please do let me know how you found what you read.