The flames from the destroyed siege tower flickered in the distance, casting long shadows across the walls of Fort Panhala. For the moment, the air was still, but the tension hung as heavy as the smoke drifting up from the battlefield. Vidur Pant stood atop the ramparts, his body exhausted, but his mind racing. They had succeeded in stopping the Mughal siege tower, but the cost was mounting. Every victory came with a price.
"They'll come again soon,"
Narayanrao said, his voice low as he joined Vidur on the ramparts. His face was streaked with dirt and exhaustion, but his eyes remained sharp.
Vidur nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the flickering lights of the Mughal camp in the distance. "They will. They're regrouping now, planning their next move."
The Maratha soldiers below were moving quietly, tending to the wounded, reinforcing the weakened sections of the walls, and preparing for the next wave. There was no celebration for the destruction of the siege tower—only the grim understanding that this was far from over.
"How are the men holding up?" Vidur asked, his voice calm despite the weight of the question.
Narayanrao exhaled slowly. "They're tired. We've lost many, and those who are left are worn down. But their spirits… they're still with us."
Vidur's jaw tightened. Good. Because they would need every bit of strength for what was coming next.
As night fell over the fort, Vidur gathered with Narayanrao and Santaji Ghorpade in the war room. The flickering light of the torches illuminated the worn map of the fort spread out before them, the edges torn and smudged with dirt and blood.
"They've lost their siege tower," Santaji said, his voice steady as he traced the path of the Mughal forces on the map. "But they're not going to give up. They still outnumber us, and their camp shows no signs of retreat."
Vidur nodded, his eyes scanning the map with a cold focus. "They'll change tactics. They'll try something we haven't seen yet."
Narayanrao frowned, his arms crossed over his chest. "What do you think they'll do?"
Vidur's eyes narrowed as he considered the possibilities. The Mughals were strategic. Calculated. They wouldn't waste time on another frontal assault if they believed it would fail again.
"They might try a night raid," Vidur said slowly, his voice thoughtful. "Send smaller groups to breach the walls under cover of darkness. If they can slip through our defenses without alerting the fort, they could cripple us from within."
Narayanrao's expression darkened. "A covert attack? They'd risk sending smaller units into the fort?"
"They're desperate," Vidur replied, his voice firm. "We've held them off for too long. They'll try anything now."
Santaji glanced at Vidur, his brow furrowed. "If they do that, we'll need to split our forces. Defend multiple points at once."
Vidur's gaze was hard as he looked at the two men. "We'll be ready. Post sentries at every entrance. We can't afford to leave any weak points exposed."
Vidur returned to the ramparts, his eyes scanning the Mughal camp below. The lights still flickered in the distance, and from time to time, he could hear the faint sound of drums and voices carried on the night wind. They're planning something. I can feel it.
He stood there for a long time, his mind racing with possibilities, running through strategies, preparing for every possible move the enemy might make. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his fingers gripping the worn leather tightly.
"Vidur,"
a voice called softly behind him.
He turned to see Narayanrao approaching, his face lined with fatigue. "You should rest," Narayanrao said, his tone more a suggestion than a command. "You've barely slept in days."
Vidur shook his head. "I'll rest when the fort is secure."
Narayanrao sighed, his expression filled with concern. "You can't carry this alone, Vidur. We're with you. The men trust you, but they need you at full strength."
Vidur looked out at the darkened battlefield, his eyes narrowing. "They need me to keep this fort standing."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Both men knew what was at stake. Both understood the price of failure.
"We'll be ready," Narayanrao said finally, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "Whatever they throw at us next, we'll be ready."
Vidur nodded, but his mind remained focused on the enemy camp. Would they really risk a night raid? Or would they try something more?
It was past midnight when the first alarm sounded.
Vidur was on the ramparts when he heard the distant cry of the sentries. His heart raced as he turned, his eyes searching the darkness beyond the walls. He couldn't see anything at first, just the shadowy outlines of the fort's perimeter and the flickering campfires of the Mughals in the distance.
"Vidur!"
a voice called from below. One of the soldiers was running toward him, his face pale with urgency. "Movement near the eastern gate! We've spotted a group of Mughal soldiers approaching!"
Vidur's blood ran cold. A night raid. They're trying to breach the gate.
He turned sharply to Narayanrao, who had rushed to his side. "Get the men ready. We need to stop them before they get too close."
Narayanrao nodded, already moving to rally the soldiers. Vidur's heart pounded as he grabbed his sword, his body tensing with anticipation. They were coming.
The fort erupted into chaos as Vidur led a group of Maratha soldiers toward the eastern gate. The night was thick with tension, the shadows deep and foreboding. Vidur's eyes darted through the darkness as they moved swiftly, his sword drawn and ready.
"Keep low," Vidur whispered, his voice barely audible. "They'll be trying to stay hidden."
As they neared the gate, Vidur could hear the faint rustle of movement in the bushes just beyond the walls. He raised his hand, signaling the men to stop. His heart raced as he strained to listen, his ears catching the sound of footsteps—quiet, deliberate.
"They're close," Narayanrao muttered from beside him, his voice tense.
Vidur nodded, his grip tightening on his sword. "On my signal."
They waited, the silence pressing down on them like a weight. Every breath felt louder than it should, every heartbeat like a drum in Vidur's ears. The enemy was just beyond the walls, moving in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Then, in the darkness, Vidur saw them—Mughal soldiers, slipping through the shadows like ghosts, their weapons gleaming faintly in the dim light of the moon.
"Now!" Vidur shouted, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
The Maratha soldiers surged forward, their swords flashing as they clashed with the Mughal raiders. The sound of steel on steel filled the night air, and Vidur's heart pounded as he fought his way through the chaos.
The battle was swift and brutal. Vidur moved through the fray with deadly precision, his sword cutting down the first Mughal soldier in his path. But the enemy was prepared. The Mughal raiders fought fiercely, their blades striking with a deadly purpose.
"We can't let them breach the gate!" Narayanrao shouted, his voice rising above the clamor of battle.
Vidur's chest burned with exertion, but he pushed forward, his mind sharp and focused. We have to push them back. If they get through the gate, it's over.
The fight raged on, the darkness making it difficult to see, but Vidur refused to give an inch. His sword clashed with an enemy's blade, the impact sending a shockwave through his arm. He gritted his teeth, blocking the next strike with grim determination.
"They're falling back!" Narayanrao shouted, his voice filled with relief.
Vidur didn't stop. He pressed the attack, cutting through the last of the Mughal raiders with a final, decisive strike. The enemy soldiers retreated into the night, their plans thwarted.
As the last of the Mughal soldiers disappeared into the shadows, Vidur stood by the gate, his chest heaving with the effort of the fight. The night was quiet once more, but the weight of the battle lingered in the air.
"We stopped them," Narayanrao said, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. "But they'll try again."
Vidur nodded, his gaze fixed on the dark horizon. "They will."
He wiped the sweat from his brow, his mind already turning to the next move. The Mughal forces were relentless, but so were they.
The Mughal forces were relentless, but so were they.
Fort Panhala had withstood the night raid, but the siege was far from over. The Mughals would return, and next time, they wouldn't come in the shadows.