At present time
The battlefield was chaos. Smoke lingered in the air, the remnants of earlier volleys of fire-tipped arrows, as Harsha's soldiers hurriedly pulled back to the hill they had fortified earlier. The young prince rode at the front of his cavalry, his voice clear and commanding.
"Hold the line!" Harsha shouted. "Archers, form a semicircle at the center. Keep your aim sharp—protect both flanks! Spearmen, behind the archers! Hold steady!"
His soldiers obeyed with the precision of well-trained warriors, creating a formidable defensive formation. Harsha's gaze swept the battlefield, calculating every move. This was no ordinary skirmish; the enemy regrouped, emboldened despite their earlier calvary and infantryman. losses. Their commander was desperate, and desperation made for dangerous foes.
Harsha turned to one of his aides. "Dispatch scouts. I want to know who's in that approaching army—and if they're an ally or a foe. Now, go!"
A Familiar Face
Not long after, one of the scouts returned, riding hard with someone in tow. Harsha immediately recognized the second rider—Udaya, one of his most trusted men, personally trained under his command. The young soldier dismounted swiftly and knelt before Harsha, his armor glinting in the dying light of the sun.
"Your Highness," Udaya said, his voice steady despite the urgency.
"Udaya! What are you doing here? And whose banner does that approaching force carry?" Harsha demanded.
"Your Highness," Udaya began, rising to his feet, "we come under the direction of Senapati Mahadev. I accompany Lord Veerendra, along with five hundred of your personal soldiers and additional royal troops. Our mission is to eliminate the enemy force threatening your position."
Harsha raised an eyebrow. "And yet, I see no royal flag raised. Why is that?"
"It is Senapati Mahadev's order, Your Highness," Udaya explained. "He feared the sight of the royal banner might cause the enemy soldiers to desert, scattering them before we could capture their leaders. We wished to avoid such chaos." otherwise they will desert and become bandits.
Harsha considered the wisdom of this decision before nodding. "Very well. Return to Senapati Mahadev and deliver my orders. He is to take the side hill where our cavalry descended during the last assault. Position archers to support an eastern flank attack."
Udaya bowed. "And your plan for the main assault, Your Highness?"
Harsha's gaze hardened. "From the front, I will lead a cavalry charge to break their morale. The eastern flank will follow your archers and strike while they're distracted. Behind me, the infantry with spears will push forward, capturing any who surrender. Kill anyone who resists—but their commander must be taken alive."
The Assault
The sun dipped below the horizon as Harsha's forces prepared for the final assault. His cavalry stood ready at the base of the hill, their armor shining faintly in the waning light. Above, Mahadev's archers took their positions on the eastern ridge, their bows drawn.
Harsha raised his sword, the signal to begin. "Charge!"
The cavalry thundered forward, their battle cries shaking the air. The enemy, still scrambling to form a cohesive defense, was caught off guard by the sudden ferocity. Arrows rained down from Mahadev's archers, pinning the enemy's soldiers in place and preventing them from repositioning.
Harsha's cavalry smashed into the enemy lines with devastating force. Horses trampled shields and men alike, while the sound of steel on steel filled the air. The enemy faltered, their morale crumbling under the relentless onslaught.
From the east, Udaya and Veerendra led their cavalry into the fray, striking the enemy's exposed flank. The encirclement was complete.
"Push forward!" Harsha bellowed, his voice carrying above the din of battle. His infantry surged, their spears creating a deadly wall that pressed against the enemy's broken formation.
The enemy soldiers began to surrender, throwing down their weapons and raising their hands in desperation. Others tried to flee but were cut down by the encircling cavalry.
In the chaos, Harsha's eyes locked onto the enemy commander, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek. The commander fought valiantly, cutting down one of Mahadev's soldiers before being overwhelmed.
"Take him alive!" Harsha shouted.
The commander was dragged to the center of the battlefield, his armor dented and bloodied but his gaze defiant. Harsha dismounted, walking toward the prisoner.
"You led your men well," Harsha said, his tone cold but respectful. "But this battle is over. Who are you, and who sent you?"
The commander remained silent, his jaw clenched.
"Bring him to the camp," Harsha ordered, turning to Veerendra. "Interrogate him. I want answers by morning."
As the captured soldiers were rounded up and the battlefield cleared, Harsha stood atop the hill, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The battle was won, but the questions it raised loomed large.
After the Battle
The night was still, save for the occasional rustle of the wind and the muted murmurs of soldiers outside the command tent. Inside, a single oil lamp cast flickering shadows on the canvas walls. Harsha sat at the center of the room, his armor removed but his expression sharp with focus. Across from him were Senapati Mahadev and Veerendra, both looking equally grim yet composed after the hard-fought victory.
The aftermath of battle lingered in the air—blood, sweat, and the faint acrid tang of burned earth. Mahadev leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Harsha. "Prince, I must ask," he said, his voice low but firm. "Those weapons your archers used... What are they? I saw their devastating results firsthand. Their fire and force left the battlefield in chaos. Are you planning to introduce them to the royal army? And can they be mass-produced?"
Harsha paused, his jaw tightening. His gaze flickered toward Veerendra before returning to Mahadev. "No," he replied,
his tone resolute. "These cannot be mass-produced right now. What you saw today was my first and last batch. I intend to discuss the production methods with my father, the emperor, but for now, they remain a closely guarded secret."
Mahadev frowned, his brow furrowing. "But why, Prince? If these weapons were available in larger quantities, they could change the course of warfare. The Suryavanshi army would become unstoppable."
"It's not that simple," Harsha said. "The materials and techniques involved are delicate. Even the smallest mistake could result in disaster. I witnessed their development with Rudra and Dhruv at the testing site near Mandore. The process is far from reliable, and scaling it up would be... challenging."
Veerendra, who had remained silent until now, leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. "Even so, Prince, the potential is undeniable. If perfected, these weapons could make the Suryavanshi army invincible."
Harsha gave a faint smile, though it lacked warmth. "Potential doesn't win wars, Veerendra. Discipline, strategy, and timing do. But yes, I will consider the possibilities with my father's counsel."
The conversation shifted as Harsha turned to Veerendra, his expression curious. "By the way, how did you know about my position in the Deeg region? How did you manage to locate me so quickly?"
Veerendra straightened, his tone more relaxed now. "It wasn't easy, Prince. A lot has happened at the palace in the last month."
Harsha raised an eyebrow, silently prompting him to continue.
"About a month ago," Veerendra began, "Nandini uncovered troubling information about secret activities in Mathura—recruitment efforts, training camps, and unknown forces gathering strength. She approached the emperor directly, bypassing the usual protocols because of the urgency of the matter."
Harsha leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Nandini? What did she discover?"
Veerendra nodded. "She found out about these operations through her network of spies and informants. The emperor immediately called Senapati Mahadev to devise a plan. Given your proximity to the area and your past activities , we were dispatched to reinforce your position. But," he added with a faint grin, "it seems you had things well in hand before we arrived."
Harsha let out a small laugh. "Barely. That enemy force was more resourceful than I expected. Still, it's good to know the palace is moving swiftly to address these threats."
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside the tent. A guard entered and saluted sharply. "My lords, the prisoner is secure but has refused to speak."
Harsha's expression darkened. "Veerendra, you've interrogated him?"
"Yes, Prince," Veerendra said. "I've questioned him personally, but he remains tight-lipped. Whoever trained him ensured his loyalty and discipline. I don't think conventional methods will work."
Harsha smirked, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Leave him to Vaidhyanatha. He has methods that few can resist. Torture with herbs and tools, combined with healing techniques—it's as effective as it is excruciating."
Mahadev exchanged a glance with Veerendra, then nodded. "As you say, Prince. We'll ensure Vaidhyanatha has everything he needs."
Plans for Departure
Harsha stood, stretching his shoulders before looking at both men. "In the morning, we'll leave for Mandore. Take the prisoners with us. Those who surrender will face judgment, but the commanders... we'll extract every detail from them before making a decision."
Veerendra rose as well, his expression serious. "The men will be ready, Prince. I'll see to it personally."
Mahadev stood, saluting sharply. "This has been an easy victory, Prince but we'll make sure it counts."
Harsha gave them both a nod, then turned to leave the tent, his mind already shifting to the next steps. The battle was won, but the war—both on the field and in the shadows of politics—was far from over.
End of Chapter
To be continued ….