The road to Mandore stretched long, but the familiar sight of the grand fortress on the horizon filled Harsha with a mixture of relief and anticipation. Riding ahead of the caravan, he signaled to Veerendra and Senapati Mahadev, who followed close behind. "Once inside the fort, let the soldiers rest and regroup. We will give them two days before they are called upon again."
"Yes, Prince," Mahadev replied, his voice firm as he turned to relay the orders.
As they entered the fort, Harsha dismounted and handed the reins to a stable hand. Without hesitation, he made his way toward the inner palace where his family resided. His heart quickened at the thought of seeing his mother and younger brothers after so long.
The door to his mother's chamber opened with a creak, and there she stood—Queen Sanyogita, regal yet tender, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Harsha," she breathed, stepping forward to embrace him. "It has been two years... and look at you now."
Her hands gently cupped his face, her fingers brushing against the faint stubble on his jaw. She smiled, her pride unmistakable. "You've grown so much. Taller, stronger... you truly carry the aura of a prince now."
"I've missed you, Mother," Harsha said softly, his voice betraying the weight of battles fought and burdens carried.
Sanyogita stepped back to take him in fully, her eyes scanning him head to toe. "You've been through more than you'll ever tell me, haven't you?" she said, her voice tinged with concern. "But first, you must rest. Come."
In the bathing chamber, a large tub had been filled with warm water infused with fragrant herbs. Queen Sanyogita herself had prepared it, drawing from her knowledge of essential oils to soothe his aching muscles.
As Harsha sank into the water, he let out a deep sigh, the tension in his body beginning to melt away. His mother sat beside him, gently combing through his hair, which had grown long enough to brush against his neck.
"It's unruly," she said with a chuckle, running her fingers through the strands. "But it suits you. You've become a warrior, Harsha, but you'll always be my son."
Harsha closed his eyes, allowing himself this rare moment of peace. "You've always taken care of me, Mother. Even now, you make me feel as though I'm still that boy running through the palace gardens."
She smiled wistfully. "You'll always be that boy to me, no matter how far you go or how high you rise."
Later, they gathered in the dining hall, where his younger brothers, Rajendra and Aryanendra, greeted him with excitement. Rajendra, now a teenager, eagerly recounted his training progress, while Aryanendra clung to Harsha's side, peppering him with questions about battles and distant lands.
Harsha listened patiently, offering words of encouragement and praise. The meal was simple but hearty, filled with laughter and stories. For a moment, the world outside the palace walls seemed to fade away.
As they finished their meal, a palace attendant entered, bowing deeply. "Prince Harsha, a royal order has arrived. The emperor summons you to the court."
Harsha stood, his brows knitting in surprise. "So soon?"
His mother placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Go, Harsha. Your father wouldn't summon you unless it was important. I think you may be in for a surprise."
With a nod, Harsha excused himself, his mind racing as he made his way to the court.
The grand court of Mandore was alive with energy. The polished marble floors gleamed under the light of chandeliers, and richly embroidered banners adorned the hall, each bearing the crest of the Suryavanshi Empire—a golden sun shining down upon a saffron field. Seated on an elevated throne, Emperor Harishchandra exuded authority and wisdom, his regal presence commanding the attention of all present.
Arrayed around him were the empire's most powerful and trusted figures. Two army commanders stood near the dais, their expressions sharp and focused. The master-at-arms, known for his unyielding discipline in training the royal army, stood with arms crossed. Beside them, Guru Vatsal, the esteemed rajpurohit and spiritual guide, maintained a serene yet vigilant demeanor. Sanjay, the emperor's most trusted aide and the man responsible for the palace's daily operations, stood slightly apart, ever watchful. Ministers and nobles filled the room, their murmurs subdued as the court awaited the day's proceedings.
As the doors opened, the royal announcer's voice rang clear, silencing the hum of voices.
"Entering the court now—The Guardian of the Realm, Rājyarakṣak, Prince Harsha!"
Harsha stepped into the hall, his presence commanding respect despite his youth. Dressed in royal attire that blended practicality and elegance, he carried himself with the quiet confidence of one who had already proven his worth on the battlefield. The eyes of the court turned to him, their expressions a mix of admiration and curiosity.
As he approached the throne, Emperor Harishchandra rose slightly, a rare gesture of acknowledgment. "Harsha, you have arrived."
The prince bowed deeply. "Father."
The emperor's gaze swept the room, ensuring all were attentive before speaking. His voice was steady, carrying the weight of his authority. "Today, I wish to announce something of great importance, a decision that will shape the future of this empire."
A ripple of anticipation passed through the court.
"Harsha, my son, is already regarded by many as the crown prince. But now, I wish to officially declare him Yuvraj, heir to the throne of the Suryavanshi Empire, and your future king. Before I do so, I seek the counsel of this court—those who have served this empire with loyalty and wisdom. Speak freely."
Guru Vatsal stepped forward, his calm voice carrying the wisdom of the scriptures. "Prince Harsha is more than worthy of this title, Maharaj. His knowledge spans the Vedas and Puranas, and his understanding of dharma and leadership is unparalleled for his age. He is a ruler who will uphold the sacred traditions while guiding us into the future."
Mahadev, the senapati, spoke next, his voice firm with conviction. "I have seen Prince Harsha train new recruits personally. His strategies are brilliant, and his methods have transformed raw soldiers into a formidable force. He has the vision to secure and expand our borders."
Another minister stepped forward. "Prince Harsha's innovations in weaponry and his insight into the art of war give this empire a distinct advantage. These new tools will ensure the safety of our people for generations to come."
A nobleman added, "In Prince Harsha, we see a ruler who is both approachable and firm. He listens like a friend but leads with the authority of a king."
One by one, voices rose in agreement, each testimony reinforcing the court's unanimous support.
"Maharaj," Guru Vatsal concluded, "we all stand behind this decision."
The Declaration
Harishchandra smiled, his pride evident. "It is decided, then. In two months, Prince Harsha will turn fifteen, and we will hold a grand tournament to announce this declaration before the empire and its allies."
He turned to Sanjay. "Send envoys to the vassal lords of Mathura, Gwalior, Kannauj, Mandsaur, and Maitraka. Invite the nobles from their territories, and extend invitations to the Rajputana clans as well. Let this tournament be a celebration of unity and strength."
Harsha stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Father, may I arrange the tournament? I have ideas that could make it not just a spectacle but also an opportunity to generate wealth for the empire. I've been working on ventures that could bring in revenue, and I'd like to use this event to showcase them."
Harishchandra regarded his son thoughtfully. "Very well, Harsha. You will oversee the tournament's arrangements, but you will work closely with Sanjay to ensure everything runs smoothly."
Harsha bowed. "Thank you, Father. I will not disappoint you."
As the court session ended, Harsha remained in the hall, discussing initial plans with Sanjay. The older man, ever practical, raised questions about logistics and resources, while Harsha outlined his vision—a tournament that would showcase the empire's strength while fostering trade and alliances.
The young prince's enthusiasm was infectious, and even the seasoned ministers found themselves nodding in agreement as he spoke.
As Harsha left the court that day, he felt the weight of his new responsibilities settle on his shoulders. Yet, there was no fear—only determination. The tournament would be a success, and it would mark the beginning of his journey as the future king of the Suryavanshi Empire.
End of Chapter
to be continued....