Rk Singh
‘I must have the last gem of the Navigators, Vazhuthi said. ‘It alone will control the Oru Arrakan. The rulers of Kumari Kandam will fall at our feet.’ ‘Our scouts have found it, Holiness,’ said the assistant, his pocked face breaking into a smile. ‘A peasant-boy who dwells in the mountains to the north.’ ‘How came such a gem to this child?’ Vazhuthi said. Who are his parents? ‘We only know that his father is a Royal Forester.’ ‘It matters not. Order our assassins to kill him and take it.’ ‘And his father?’ ‘Kill anyone who stands in your way.’ ‘What is this village called?’ ‘Sailem, Holiness. It is called Sailem.’ Vazhuthi looked at his assistant with eyes dark as a moonless ocean. ‘Kill the whole village if you have to. They are of no consequence.’ The assistant priest shivered and pulled his black robes tighter, stepping backwards and bowing. Vazhuthi closed his eyes and focussed his mind on the gem that he so desired. Yet in the depths of his mind, he felt some unseen power protecting the boy. He did not like unknowns. Unnerved, he left the chamber, his trembling assistant in tow. That night as Kumari Kandam slept, the bright stars of the Seven Sages wheeled over the extinct volcano. With a sound like distant thunder, another of the twelve stone guardians failed, its hum falling silent forever. Three Guardians now lay dead in the mountain under the stars. The Oru Arrakan surged against the remaining Guardians, fighting to escape. It had always fought to escape.
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