The sounds of battle still echoed through the walls of Fort Panhala, but the tide had shifted. Vidur Pant stood at the shattered entrance of the inner keep, his chest heaving as he watched the chaos outside. The Maratha reinforcements, led by the cavalry, were cutting through the Mughal forces in the courtyard, pushing them back.
"They're retreating," Narayanrao muttered beside him, wiping the blood from his sword.
Vidur nodded, but he didn't relax. "Not yet. They'll regroup. This isn't over."
The courtyard was littered with bodies, a stark reminder of how close they had come to falling. Vidur's eyes scanned the battlefield, searching for any sign that the Mughals were rallying again. We can't afford another wave like that.
"Vidur," Narayanrao said quietly, his voice cautious. "Look."
Vidur followed Narayanrao's gaze, his stomach tightening. In the distance, past the fort's outer walls, he saw it—a massive figure rising above the battlefield. A siege tower, untouched by the chaos of the battle, was rolling forward, pushed by Mughal soldiers who seemed intent on making one last desperate attempt to breach the walls.
"They're not giving up," Vidur muttered, his face grim. "That tower will destroy the walls if it reaches us."
Narayanrao's expression darkened. "We have to stop it."
Vidur turned quickly, gathering his thoughts. "Narayanrao, gather the remaining men. We need to destroy that tower before it reaches the walls. We can't let it get close."
Narayanrao nodded and hurried off, leaving Vidur to look out over the battlefield. If that tower reaches the fort... His mind raced with the implications. The walls were weakened already, barely holding after the battering rams had done their damage. The tower would finish what the rams started.
Minutes later, Narayanrao returned with a group of Maratha soldiers, all of them battered from the earlier fighting but still standing tall.
"We're ready," Narayanrao said, his voice steady but urgent. "What's the plan?"
Vidur's eyes flicked to the tower, inching closer by the minute. "We're going out there. A small group. We'll take out the tower from the inside."
One of the soldiers, his face pale, spoke up. "You want to go into the tower?"
Vidur's gaze was hard. "It's the only way. We can't destroy it from here, and we don't have time to mount another full attack. We need to be quick."
The men exchanged uneasy glances, but there was no argument. They trusted Vidur's judgment. There was no other choice.
Vidur led the small group through the courtyard, the sound of swords clashing still ringing in the air as the reinforcements continued their battle with the Mughal infantry. The ground was slick with mud and blood, making their steps cautious but swift.
"We need to move fast," Vidur muttered, his eyes never leaving the tower in the distance. "Once they realize we're coming, it'll be too late."
Narayanrao, close behind him, nodded. "We'll get inside, set it on fire, and get out."
Vidur's heart pounded in his chest. One chance. They reached the edge of the battlefield, where the siege tower loomed above them like a dark shadow. The Mughal soldiers pushing the tower hadn't noticed them yet, their focus on getting the massive structure closer to the fort.
"Now," Vidur whispered, his voice firm. "Go."
The small group moved quickly, slipping past the outer defenses of the Mughal forces. Vidur led the way, his sword drawn as they reached the base of the tower. The wooden structure groaned under its own weight as it rolled forward, the massive wheels turning slowly.
"Get inside!" Vidur ordered, his voice barely above a whisper.
One by one, they climbed into the tower, moving up the wooden supports as silently as possible. Inside, the creaking of the wood echoed around them, but there was no time to pause. Vidur could feel the heat of the battle outside, but his focus was sharp. We just need to get to the center.
Inside the tower, Vidur could see the massive wooden beams holding the structure together. His mind raced. If we can break these beams or set them on fire, the whole thing will collapse.
"Narayanrao," Vidur called softly, "take half the men and start cutting through the supports. We'll set fire to the base."
Narayanrao nodded, moving quickly with his group as they began hacking at the beams with their swords and axes. The wood splintered under the force, but it wasn't going to fall easily.
Vidur and the remaining men started dousing the lower levels of the tower with oil they had brought, working quickly to soak the wood. The smell of oil filled the air, thick and pungent.
"Hurry," Vidur muttered, his eyes scanning the tower. It won't be long before they notice us.
As the last of the oil was poured, Vidur lit a torch. The flames danced in the dim light, casting flickering shadows against the wooden walls.
"We're ready," Narayanrao said, his voice tense.
Vidur glanced at the tower, his mind racing. This is it.
"Light it," Vidur commanded.
The men touched their torches to the oil-soaked wood, and within moments, flames roared to life. The fire spread quickly, the dry wood catching almost instantly. The heat was intense, filling the air with thick smoke.
"Move!" Vidur shouted, his voice barely audible over the crackling flames. "Get out of the tower!"
The soldiers scrambled down the supports, their movements quick and frantic as the fire consumed the structure. Vidur was the last to leave, his heart pounding in his chest as he leaped from the burning tower just as the flames reached the upper levels.
Outside, the Mughals had finally noticed the fire, their shouts filling the air as they rushed to stop the blaze. But it was too late. The flames were spreading too fast, the heat too intense.
Narayanrao reached Vidur's side, breathing heavily. "It's working. The tower's going to fall."
Vidur nodded, his eyes fixed on the flames as they climbed higher. The tower will burn. But we need to get out of here before we're caught in the collapse.
"Fall back to the fort!" Vidur ordered. "Move!"
As they sprinted back toward Fort Panhala, the sound of the tower collapsing behind them echoed through the battlefield. Vidur risked a glance over his shoulder and saw the massive structure tilt, then crash to the ground in a heap of burning wood and debris.
A roar of victory erupted from the Maratha soldiers still fighting in the courtyard. The sight of the fallen siege tower sent a wave of morale surging through the defenders.
"They're retreating!" Narayanrao shouted, his voice filled with relief. "The Mughals are pulling back!"
Vidur reached the safety of the fort's walls, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His eyes scanned the battlefield, where the Mughal forces were indeed retreating, their formation breaking as they fled from the burning wreckage of their last siege weapon.
The courtyard of Fort Panhala was quiet now, the sounds of battle fading into the distance as the last of the Mughal forces retreated. Vidur stood at the ramparts, his face set in quiet reflection. The fort had held, but it had been a close thing—too close.
"We did it," Narayanrao said softly, standing beside him. His voice was filled with a mix of exhaustion and disbelief. "We actually did it."
Vidur nodded, though his expression remained tense. "This wasn't the end, Narayanrao. Aurangzeb won't give up. He'll send more men."
Narayanrao's face darkened, but he nodded. "We'll be ready."
Vidur exhaled slowly, his eyes scanning the horizon where the Mughals had disappeared. For now, they had won. But the war was far from over.