At a signal from the President, the herald blew out his trumpet to announce the end of the contest. The young men lined up before the President for appraisal. Both Sakrid and Prithusen had only two streaks of blood on their bodies, Vrishnesh had three; the remaining young were marked with four streaks of blood.

After consulting other members of the Council, the President declared, ‘May the members of the Council and those present listen to what I have to say. Sakrid and Prithusen have distinguished themselves in the use of weapons. Prithusen would have won the first place, had he not wasted much of his energy hitting aimlessly on his left side. Because of this lack, the honour of being the best swordsman goes to Sakrid.’

Then pointing to a coronet of green leaves interwoven with white flowers, the President said, ‘We shall now start the music and dance contest. The girl who, among the pupils of Devi Mallika, wins the title of Daughter of Saraswati, shall have the honour of crowning the best swordsman with this coronet.’

The herald sounded the trumpet. There was a shout of joy from the spectators. The young men paid their obeisance before climbing down the steps of the platform. Prithusen, however, did not move.

Holding his sword straight in front of his face and bowing his head a little, he said, ‘I, Prithusen, son of Prestha, the merchant, seek your permission to say something.’

The President looked at him curiously.

Prithusen continued, ‘With Your Honour’s permission, I beg to submit that I did not waste my energy in aimless backhand blows. I was fighting not five enemies, but six; the sixth being the plantain tree. If you permit, sir, I shall prove it.’

And so saying, he moved towards the left side of the arena, straight to the pillar against which the plantain tree stood. Doing so he struck at it with all his might. The severed pieces of the tree fell in a heap.

There was a gasp of admiration from the audience, impressed by his dexterity and unique swordsmanship.

Bowing before the President, Prithusen said in great humility, ‘Sir, I have overpowered that enemy too. I would now pray for Your Honour’s judgement.’

The President, too, was impressed by this amazing display. He got up and, placing his hand on Prithusen’s shoulder, said, ‘I erred in my previous judgement. It is Prithusen who is the outstanding swordsman of Sagal.’

‘Yes, yes … this is as it should be,’ uttered the members of the Council, nodding assent.

The spectators were thrilled.

However, the Chairman of the Council, Acharya Pravardhan, stood up to object, ‘Sir, I would request the members of the Council to give this matter serious thought. Can a judgement, once given by the President, be reversed?’

The members of the Council, the nobles and other spectators, struck dumb with surprise, looked at the Acharya.

Before resuming his seat, the President raised his hand again and said to the audience, ‘Members of the Republican Council, honourable lords of the nobility and citizens of Sagal, I ask you to reflect on the objections raised by Mahapandit Acharya Pravardhan, Chairman of the Council. I have admitted my error of judgement. In my old age my eyesight is not what it used to be. It is not proper that injustice should be done to a young man on account of my failing eyesight. If the Republic has faith in me, I should be permitted to rectify my mistake.’