The sound of quills scratching against parchment filled the war room as Vidur Pant sat hunched over a wooden desk, scribbling furiously. His hand moved quickly, yet each word was carefully chosen. The letter had to convey the gravity of the situation—every moment wasted was a moment the Maratha Empire couldn't afford.
"Vidur," Narayanrao said quietly from across the room, watching as Vidur wrote. "The messenger is ready."
Vidur didn't look up, his focus fixed on the letter. "Give me one more moment."
The room was heavy with silence as Vidur's quill continued to scratch. The words flowed faster now:
To the Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj,
Urgent news from Panhala—Aurangzeb's forces regroup, and more are on the way. A march is expected, targeting not just this fort but Raigad and beyond. Reinforcements and supplies are critical.
We stand ready to defend Panhala, but the storm that follows will be greater.
Your loyal servant,
Vidur Pant
Vidur set down the quill, the ink still glistening on the parchment. He blew softly to dry it before folding the letter and sealing it with wax. His hand pressed the seal firmly, his mind turning over the consequences of this message. This is just the beginning.
"Send this to Raigad at once," Vidur said, standing and handing the letter to the waiting soldier. "Make sure it reaches the Chhatrapati quickly. Ride through the night if you must."
The soldier saluted, taking the letter and disappearing out of the room. As the door closed, Vidur felt a weight lift from his chest, but it was fleeting. The real battle was still to come.
Narayanrao stood by the window, arms crossed, his face set in deep thought. "Do you think Sambhaji Raje will be able to send reinforcements quickly?"
Vidur paced across the room, his boots thudding softly on the stone floor. "He'll have to. If he doesn't, Panhala will be overrun. And once we fall…" He didn't finish the sentence. They both knew what came next.
Narayanrao's eyes darkened. "Raigad."
Vidur nodded, his voice low. "Aurangzeb won't stop. This fort is just a stepping stone for him. We need to hold, no matter the cost."
"We will," Narayanrao said firmly. "We've fought off worse."
Vidur stopped pacing, turning to face him. "But have we ever faced something like this? This isn't just a battle. This is a full campaign. Aurangzeb wants to crush us, not just defeat us."
Narayanrao didn't reply immediately. His silence spoke volumes. They both knew this was different. Finally, he spoke. "We'll do what we always do, Vidur. We'll fight."
The next morning, the fort was alive with activity. Soldiers moved quickly through the courtyards, preparing defenses, sharpening swords, and reinforcing the walls. The battle-worn fort bore the scars of the last fight, but it stood tall, a symbol of resistance against the Mughals.
Vidur and Narayanrao moved through the ranks, inspecting the men and the fortifications.
"How are the men holding up?" Vidur asked as they passed a group of archers practicing near the northern wall.
"They're tired," Narayanrao admitted, glancing at the soldiers. "But they're ready. Morale is still high after we pushed the Mughals back last time."
Vidur nodded. "They'll need that strength. The next attack will be worse."
As they approached the main gate, Santaji Ghorpade greeted them, his face etched with concern. "Word from the scouts."
Vidur's eyes narrowed. "What is it?"
"The Mughals are gathering again," Santaji said, his voice tight. "They've moved closer to the fort, setting up camp just beyond the hills. They're preparing for something big."
Vidur's stomach tightened. So soon? "How many?" he asked.
Santaji hesitated. "More than before. And they're bringing siege engines. It won't be long before they're ready to strike again."
Narayanrao cursed under his breath. "We barely recovered from the last assault."
Vidur's face was hard, his mind already racing. Siege engines. More men. Aurangzeb wasn't going to wait. "We have to strike first," Vidur said suddenly, his voice sharp.
Narayanrao looked at him, eyes widening slightly. "You want to attack them?"
Vidur nodded. "If we wait for them to bring those siege engines to our gates, we won't stand a chance. We need to slow them down—destroy their weapons before they can use them."
Santaji raised an eyebrow. "Another raid?"
"Yes," Vidur said firmly. "But we need to be smarter this time. They'll expect us to strike. We have to be unpredictable."
The war room was filled with tension as Vidur, Narayanrao, Santaji, and the other commanders gathered to plan the raid. The map of the Mughal encampment lay spread across the table, the enemy's positions marked with precise details.
"We hit them here," Vidur said, pointing to the area where the siege engines were being assembled. "And here—where their supply wagons are stored. Without food and weapons, they'll be crippled."
Narayanrao leaned over the map. "We'll need to move quickly. If they catch wind of what we're planning, we won't make it out."
"We won't give them the chance," Vidur said. "We strike in the dead of night, just before dawn. Most of their men will be sleeping. We disable the siege engines, burn their supplies, and retreat."
Santaji nodded slowly. "It's risky. But it might just work."
Vidur met his gaze. "We don't have a choice. If we don't do something, we'll be trapped here, waiting for them to break through our walls."
The commanders agreed, and the plan was set. As the meeting ended, Vidur stood by the table, staring down at the map. His mind was sharp, but a gnawing feeling remained in the pit of his stomach. This raid would be even more dangerous than the last.
Narayanrao approached, his hand resting on Vidur's shoulder. "We'll be fine, Vidur."
Vidur didn't answer, his thoughts elsewhere. We have to be.
As the day drew to a close, the fort prepared for the coming raid. The soldiers gathered their gear, checked their weapons, and readied themselves for what could be their final mission.
Vidur stood at the gates, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the fort. The cool evening air felt heavy with anticipation.
"Vidur," Narayanrao said quietly, joining him at the gate. "The men are ready."
Vidur nodded. "Good. We'll move as soon as the moon rises."
Narayanrao looked at him, his expression serious. "You know, Vidur, if this goes wrong…"
"I know," Vidur interrupted. "But if we do nothing, we lose everything. This is our only chance."
Narayanrao sighed but nodded in agreement. "Then we do it right."
The moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale glow over the hills as Vidur and the Maratha soldiers crept silently toward the Mughal camp. Every step was measured, every sound muffled by the night. The weight of the mission pressed down on Vidur's shoulders, but his resolve remained strong.
As they approached the outskirts of the Mughal camp, Vidur raised his hand, signaling the men to stop. He crouched low, peering over the ridge. The camp lay below, quiet and still. Fires flickered dimly in the distance, but most of the Mughal soldiers were asleep.
Vidur turned to Narayanrao, his voice a low whisper. "We hit the siege engines first."
Narayanrao nodded, his face set with determination. "Let's move."
Vidur led the charge, his heart pounding as they descended into the camp. The enemy was unaware of the danger creeping through their midst. Vidur's mind was sharp, his focus absolute. This has to work.
As they reached the siege engines, Vidur signaled to the men. "Now."