Vira-vara had not gone far when he almost stumbled over a woman who was weeping bitterly. By the dim light of a torch, which he had hurriedly picked up after leaving the King’s presence, he could see that she was a very beautiful and splendidly dressed lady.
“Why do you thus lament?” asked he.
“I am the Fortune of the King Sudraka,” answered she. “For a long while I lived happily in the shadow of his arm, but on the third day he will die, and therefore do I shed these bitter tears.”
“Can anything be done, dear lady, that will prolong your stay here?” asked the Rajpoot.
“Only one thing,” replied the Spirit, “but that I do not like to tell you.”
“Tell me what it is, and I swear to do it, out of loyalty to my kind Master,” said the faithful guard.
“Then,” said the Spirit Lady, “if you will cut off the head of your firstborn son, who has on his body the marks of greatness, and offer his head as a sacrifice to the all-helpful Goddess Durga, then shall I continue to be the guardian angel of the Rajah, even though he should live another hundred years.”
Having said this, she disappeared, and Vira-vara went to his own house and awoke his wife and son.
These two listened attentively while he repeated to them the words of the vision and then the son said: “I feel honored in that I may be the means of saving the King’s life; kill me quickly, for it is well that I can give my life to such a good cause.”
To this the Mother agreed, saying, “It is well, and worthy of our blood; how else should we deserve the King’s pay?”