Aparaajitha bristled with rage. Shatadru had requested her to come for a moonlit boating excursion on the river. Thinking that this would be the right opportunity to elicit some extra information from the lecher, she had readily agreed to the proposition. All her soldiers and bodyguards had been standing ashore as Shatadru had rowed away with her and Malli in the pleasure boat. She had been very overconfident about her own abilities and prowess and terribly underestimated her enemy's. Several masked men had been waiting for them downstream. They immediately overpowered and incapacitated her and Malli before they proceeded to bind and then blindfold both of them.

Her soldiers and bodyguards would not suspect anything amiss until some while. Mrithyunjay would be very busy this whole night in saving her uncle and his men from the Kalakeyan death sentence.  Aparaajitha wondered to herself, "Have Subahu or Vijamarthanda become suspicious about my activities?" She reasoned out that if it was either of them, they would have instantly had her executed for her treachery. It was somebody else who had something to gain from her.  Now there was nothing to be done except wait for the events to unfold.
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Near the Waterfall,
The cool waters of the stream kept washing over Narasimha's entire body. The hot ascending rays of the sun danced over his face and the billowing mountain air kept caressing him from beneath his clothes. The need to sleep peacefully was the most overpowering emotion.

Narasimha could hardly fathom what motivated that wild and reckless leap of faith down this deep abyss. He could have lost his life. But after having seen death at such close quarters, death had lost its ability to scare him. His eyes briefly flickered open. The extremely beautiful and sad eyes of his friend Bhavani were wistfully staring down at him.

Narasimha gave her a blissful smile. He was happy he had been right all along. She was here this whole while. She would decry his deception and falsehood. But he wasn't scared anymore. He had become tired of hiding the truth about his identity even from his closest friends. He would tell her the whole truth and he was sure she would understand, "Bhavani......you.....I...."

Bhavani held her palm in front of his mouth to make him desist from talking and unduly exerting himself. He did not realize till the present moment how big, round and beautiful her jet-blue eyes were. She pried open his fingers to pull the arrow he held in his hands and prevent him from hurting himself. His fingers let go of the arrow and instead firmly wrapped themselves around hers in an iron grip. She tried jerking his hand away but he held on.

He would hold hers for an eternity whether she wanted it or not. He would bring smiles and happiness to that sad face. She reluctantly seemed to let him keep holding hers. She called out to somebody to help her. A cacophony of unknown voices erupted. He was hoisted up their shoulders and carried to some unknown destination.

Several days had passed as he oscillated between consciousness and unconsciousness. He wasn't sure how much time had elapsed. He was in a small, warm and cosy hut. His forehead and whole body were burning as though on fire. Every time he opened his eyes, he beheld a very old physician applying a cooling green paste all over his body and making him drink an extremely bitter concoction. His back was bent due to age. He held a stick to support him while walking.

Bhavani kept changing cold compresses over his forehead from time to time. Tears streamed down her eyes like pearls. He knew he was the reason for these tears. It stung him to see her in pain because of him. He wanted to brush off those drops from her cheeks. But he was powerless. He couldn't move his body even an inch. A numbing pain inflicted itself upon his bones and muscles.

"How is he, Thatha?" Bhavani asked in a poignant voice full of sorrow.

"I am doing the best I can with the resources available in this forest, Bhavani. But the fever shows no signs of abatement. Three more days like this and the fever will reach his brain."

"Is there nothing else we can do?" She said breaking into copious tears.

"Let me see", he pondered. "We could inform Subahu that Narsimha is here. They must have been searching for him high and low by now. But I doubt if any physician or quack in Mahishmati could have done much more than I have done."

Bhavani asked, "Then what do you suggest, Thatha? I am all alone. I don't have anyone else to turn to for advice. You know about uncle and...." Her voice trailed off.

The old man replied, "I am a physician, first and foremost. My primary duty is towards my patient even if he is my enemy. That is why I did not refuse to treat Narasimha when you first brought him to me."

Bhavani folded her hands in gratitude, "I will forever be grateful to you for that. Your son was massacred by Subahu's soldiers and your fields were confiscated. Still, you did not refuse to treat Narasimha."

The old man waved his hand to make her desist from talking about the past, "Let us concentrate on the present, Bhavani!Nobody can change the past. I would not hold up the mistakes of a father against his son." After a pregnant pause, he continued, "I have a friend and fellow physician who lives in Vijayapuri. If we manage to somehow take him to his medical dispensary, he will surely be able to save him. He is one of the finest physicians in the whole country."

"Then what are we waiting for, Thatha? Please make arrangements for all of us to travel. I cannot see my fri....."

The old physician explained, "It is not as easy as it seems. Sankaleshwar where my friend's dispensary is situated is a part of the empire of Mahishmati. Technically speaking, Vijayamarthanda is the ruler of Vijayapuri and the Overlord who rules on his behalf is Sambamurthy. But the ruling establishment is practically nonexistent in Sankaleshwar. The diktats of the lady tribal chieftain, Urumi Nachiyar are held supreme. She and her clan have waged an unending and inconclusive war against the empire of Mahishmati. Vast lands of Vijayapuri run under their administration and control. From time to time, army regiments are sent to reconquer these lands. But they revert back after a very short while into the hands of Nachiyar and her clan.  A lot of blood has been shed on both sides. Narasimha is the prince of Mahishmati. If they get even the slightest wind of this, Nachiyar and her clan will not hesitate to murder your friend in cold blood."

"We have to run that risk anyhow, Thatha. You were saying that there is otherwise no hope for his survival."

The old man sighed, "Yes, you are right. There is....otherwise.....no hope."
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At the House of a Devadasi in Vijayapuri,
Sambamurthy sat on a plush mattress on the floor enjoying the performance of Abinaya. She was reputed to be the most talented and beautiful Devadasi (Courtesan) in the whole of Vijayapuri. She could bring any man to his feet just like the apsaras (dancing damsels) of heaven with her dancing talent.

He had expressed his desire to witness her performance several weeks ago. He had been turned away from her doors several times by her maids telling that she was ill and indisposed. She had played rather hard to get all this while. His ego was hurt.  He had forcibly stopped the people who frequented her house to witness her performance. He exorbitantly hiked the taxes she had to pay ten-fold. He was even considering getting her imprisoned to make her accede to his demands.

His authority as Overlord had become a big joke because of his obsession with her. But luckily for him and her, she realized the folly of her ways. She sent him a message that she would exclusively entertain only him that night. She served him alcoholic beverages at regular intervals. He had tried to pull her into his lap but she skillfully wriggled out of his grasp and resumed her performance. She whirled and twirled on her feet moving her hands in intricate mudras (patterns).

After several claps and bravos later, Sambamurthy dozed off on the very mattress on which he sat. She gave him a look full of hatred and distaste before she beckoned one of her maids to deliver a note to somebody. Then she turned her attention towards the recumbent figure on the mattress. She instructed her maids, "Tie him up and lock him in that chamber. His men are still outside. Did you serve them the wine I gave you?"

"Yes, but they refused the offer", replied the maid.

Abinaya shrugged her shoulders, "Alright! In that case, there is nothing to do but wait. Pretend as though nothing happened."

The effects of the sleep-inducing wine would wear off in a while. She hoped her message would reach Urumi Nachiyar in time. She had taken a very big gamble. But this disgusting man had left her with no option. He had pursued her and made her life a living hell even though she had made it very clear that she wasn't interested in him. 

Abinaya started getting more anxious as a couple of hours passed. The effect of the wine must have worn off. The door of the locked room in which she had bound Sambamurthy started pounding loudly. The men who were outside sensed something amiss. They immediately barged in and freed him.

Sambamurthy ground the heels of his footwear over Abinaya's chest while placing his sword near her neck. He realized that she had trapped him. He interrogated, "To whom did you send the message, you she-devil?"

Abinaya gasped and panted for breath. She spat out, "Urumi Nachiyar!"

Sambamurthy instantly paled. He wasn't sure he exactly wanted a confrontation with Urumi Nachiyar. All the Overlords before him had perished at her hands. Abinaya laughed, "It is good to see even a man like you knocked out of your wits. She is coming. Hide before you can. She will hunt you and your men down."

"You Vesya (Prostitute)! I would have given you anything you wanted. I would have made you my queen. Why did you dupe me?" Sambamurthy asked.

"I am a Devadasi, Sambamurthy, and not a Vesya as you put it. People come to see my dance. I sell my talent not my body. You would have made me a queen maybe. But you would have taken that thing away from me that I price above my life. Death would be far better than such a fate."

"Die, then!" Sambamurthy drove the sword into her.

Dust was rising up in the sky as distant horse hooves started approaching nearer and nearer. One of the Sambamurthy's soldiers peeked out of the house as he gasped, "Urumi Nachiyar!"

Sambamurthy's false bravado had fled. He was in the icy grip of an unholy fear of death. He and his men hastily decamped from there. The sorry sight of Abinaya and her maids lying in their own blood greeted the eyes of Nachiyar and her troops.

The hard expression on the iron lady's face instantly softened on witnessing this gruesome sight. Nachiyar bent down and held Abinaya's lifeless hand in hers as she promised, "Your sacrifice won't go in vain, Abinaya. Blood for blood!" Nachiyar roared. She picked up her weapon, the Urumi (a flexible whip blade) by which she had gained the epithet Urumi Nachiyar, and held it to the sky, "Pursue those cowards. They wouldn't have gone very far. Intercept them before they reach the fortress on the hill."
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