Rani Abbakka Chowta: The Flame Against the Tide

Chapter One: Salt in Her Veins

Ullal Coast – 1525 – Midnight

The sea screamed.

Waves crashed against the jagged rocks like war drums. Wind howled through the palms. The storm split the sky with blades of lightning.

And somewhere in the chaos, a baby girl was born.

Not in a palace.Not with garlands.But in a blood-slick hut of an astrologer's wife, while the waters rose and the gods watched.

The midwife cut the cord with a dagger instead of a knife.

She did not cry.

She stared.

Eyes black as monsoon clouds.

The midwife stumbled back. "This one," she whispered, "has salt in her veins."

Ullal Palace – 15 Years Later

The sound of hooves rang like thunder across the courtyard.

Princess Abbakka tore past the guards on a dark stallion, barefoot, face smeared with ash. She was chasing nothing. Fleeing nothing.

She just needed to feel wind.To taste sea spray.To remember she was not a cage-born girl.

Behind her, a royal envoy arrived from the west—Portuguese officers in golden coats, silver crucifixes swinging over iron-plated chests. Their smiles were made of wine and wolf.

"Is this her?" one of them asked.

Abbakka didn't stop riding. Didn't even look.

"She doesn't bow," her aunt, the Queen Mother, muttered.

"She will," the Portuguese envoy replied. "We all do. Eventually."

That Night – Royal Chamber

Stormlight flickered across Abbakka's face as she stood before the Chowta court.

The air reeked of rose oil and treachery.

Her uncle, the High Minister, spoke with dry lips.

"The Portuguese offer trade in exchange for tribute. Cinnamon. Pearls. Protection."

"Protection?" Abbakka's voice cut like coral.

"They protect what they poison. What they cannot own, they burn."

The Queen Mother's fingers tightened on the throne.

"You speak like a warrior, Abbakka. But this is politics. They offer peace."

Abbakka turned toward the council and slammed a curved dagger onto the marble floor.

"I was not born in peace.I will not rule in fear."

Hours Later – Secret Shoreline Cave

In the dead of night, Abbakka slipped away, cloak dragging behind her. She descended into a hidden cove where the old fishermen lived.

A man with one eye—Muthu Nayak, the tide-watcher—waited beside a flickering lantern.

"You should not be here, child."

"I'm not a child," she replied, stepping forward. "I've seen the Portuguese ships. Their cannons. Their crosses."

She held up a silver crucifix looted from a washed-up sailor. "They send gods to conquer land."

Muthu's face hardened. "They've already taken Mangalore."

Abbakka stared into the dark water, silent.

"Then we will make them fear the sea itself."

Flashback – Portuguese Warship, One Year Ago

A small fishing vessel carrying pearls was seized off Ullal's coast. The fishermen were nailed to their own boats, then set adrift as a message.

No tribute, no trade.

The Queen Mother had sent compensation.

Abbakka had not forgotten.

Present – Ullal Fort

The next day, Abbakka stood atop the fort's highest tower as the Portuguese ship Santa Marta dropped anchor, cannons out, flags high.

"They don't come to talk," said her guard captain. "They come to teach."

Abbakka turned to her people gathered below—farmers, pearl-divers, weavers.

"They will not teach here," she said.

She raised her hand.

Dozens of black-cloaked women moved through the crowd, placing small crates at the edge of the harbor.

Salt. Pitch. Oil. Iron shards.

The Portuguese had cannons.

Abbakka had a sea full of explosive wombs.

Harbor – The Ultimatum

The Portuguese envoy stepped ashore with six guards, holding a scroll sealed in red wax.

It read:

"To the Queen of Ullal,Pay tribute or surrender your ports.Refuse, and be considered hostile to the Crown."

Abbakka read it aloud.

Then calmly ripped it in half.

The envoy smiled. "You may rip the scroll, my lady. But not the sea."

She stepped forward.

"No," she said, "but I can set it on fire."

That Night – A Body on the Beach

A fisherman's child screamed.

The royal guards arrived to find a body washed ashore. Mouth sewn shut. Skin carved with a symbol—a flaming cross.

Portuguese.

It wasn't a threat.

It was a ritual.

Abbakka's blood boiled. "They are not missionaries. They are monsters."

Muthu Nayak appeared with an old sea map.

"Then let's show the monsters the way back to hell."

Inside the Palace – The Conspiracy

Unseen, the High Minister spoke with a shadowy figure in the corridor—King Lakshmappa Bangaraja, Abbakka's estranged husband.

"She is preparing for war."

He whispered, "Let her. The Portuguese reward obedience. I will give them the route."

They sealed it with a toast of foreign wine.

Even queens are hunted by ghosts in their own walls.

Final Scene – The Fire Ship

Two nights later.

A lone Portuguese supply vessel appeared offshore. It moved strangely—no flags, no light, no voice.

A sailor shouted.

Too late.

It exploded.

The sea erupted in fire.

Flaming oil lit the waves. Screams echoed. The Portuguese flagship tried to retreat, but chains beneath the water snapped their rudders.

From the cliffs, Abbakka watched, eyes glowing with flame.

"This is your baptism," she whispered.

Closing Lines – Chapter One

The world would call her rebel.A heretic.A savage.

But the sea had named her something else that night—

Queen.

✨ End of Chapter One