The scorching sun hung low over Rajputana, casting long shadows across its arid plains. The villages, nestled between rolling dunes and rocky outcrops, buzzed with quiet anticipation. The royal guards, clad in polished steel and bearing the Suryavanshi insignia, rode through dusty pathways, their voices echoing through the hamlets.
"By decree of His Highness, Crown Prince Harsha Suryavanshi, son of Emperor Harishchandra Suryavanshi, every able-bodied man shall labor for the empire's progress! In exchange for your work, your families shall be provided for. The elderly and children are exempt. Report to your village chiefs at sunrise tomorrow!"
Whispers and murmurs followed the announcement. Farmers resting beneath trees exchanged glances, their worry melting into relief. Merchants paused their transactions, considering the impact. For years, their burdens had been heavy, but now, for the first time, the empire called upon them—not for war, not for taxes, but to build a future.
An elderly villager with a weathered face nodded approvingly. "The young prince is wise. He does not take from us—he asks us to build with him. This is how great empires are made."
Across Rajputana, similar sentiments spread. A newfound sense of unity and purpose took root, the people breathing in the winds of change. Excitement and optimism spread like wildfire, and men gathered in courtyards and by the wells, discussing what was to come. The village chiefs prepared lists of willing workers, and as the sun set, families sat together, dreaming of the empire they would help shape.
Far from the villages, near Mandore...
Harsha sat beside Rudra, studying the rough sketches of a city yet to rise. The wooden table before them was scattered with parchments detailing walls, roads, and fortifications. A brazier burned nearby, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls of their makeshift planning chamber.
"Rudra, the city must be walled from all directions," Harsha said, his fingers tracing the map's lines. "Four massive gates, tall and wide enough for two to four horse-drawn wagons to ride side by side. Each gate will close at night, ensuring safety. And along the walls—defensive openings. From the outside, they must be invisible, but from within, our soldiers should see clearly. The walls should be sturdy and wide enough for two to three guards to patrol comfortably."
Rudra nodded, absorbing every instruction. "It shall be done, Yuvraj. But what about the essentials? Water storage, drainage, and strong foundations for homes?"
Harsha's eyes gleamed. "We will learn from our ancestors. The Indus Valley Civilization had sophisticated drainage. We shall build upon their knowledge. Wells, reservoirs, and underground canals must be part of our blueprint. I have taught you architecture and strategy. You have ten trained men at your disposal. Create a fine blueprint for this location and then move on to other cities. Begin their foundations as well."
Rudra marked the plans carefully. "And the roads?"
"Wide and structured," Harsha declared. "The city must connect seamlessly to all Rajputana territories. A strong trade network will make us rich, and fast-moving roads will ensure our army's dominance. Use stone, brick, and cement for durability. And most importantly—improve the steel used in administrative and court buildings."
Rudra smiled. "Yuvraj, if we accomplish this, the city will be a marvel."
Harsha leaned back, exhaling. "It must be. Because this is just the beginning."
They continued discussing the layout for hours, adjusting their plans based on the terrain and available resources. Rudra occasionally scribbled down notes, while Harsha envisioned the bustling city in his mind—markets teeming with merchants, well-guarded avenues, and temples standing tall as symbols of prosperity.
Harsha's mind, however, was not only on city planning. His gaze drifted beyond the maps, toward a vision far grander. He had already begun working on a weapon that would reshape the future of warfare—a cannon. The first step was the discovery of black powder, a volatile mixture of saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal.
Yet, the greatest challenge remained. "The yield of black powder is low," Harsha muttered to himself. "The mills are running, but progress will be slow without enough saltpeter and sulfur."
His thoughts wandered. I am already in trade with Magadh for these minerals. Dhruv is doing fine work securing them.
But his eyes were set on Patna. The largest saltpeter reserves in Bharat lie there. If we control them, we control the future of warfare. Once I perfect the cannon, fortresses, and borders will be mere obstacles in the path of conquest. And our own fortresses will be fortified with these weapons.
He clenched his fists, excitement coursing through him. The thought of wielding the power of black powder thrilled him—but he knew patience was key. Laying the groundwork was just as important as the final strike.
A distant horn sounded. The workers had begun clearing the land for the city's foundation. Harsha stood, watching as men and women toiled, their efforts shaping his dream into reality. He imagined the roads filled with carts, the courtyards bustling with scholars and soldiers alike. The vision of a thriving city fueled his determination.
"Rudra," he said, turning to his companion. "I leave this task in your hands. I will visit Balram. He is constructing a new blast furnace, and its success is crucial to our progress. Stronger steel will be the backbone of our empire. And I have more work for him."
As Harsha rode off, Rudra watched him go, admiration in his eyes. "A king not yet crowned, but already a legend," he murmured.
The winds of change blew through Rajputana, promising a new era. As the dust rose behind Harsha's departing figure, the foundation of a legacy was being laid—brick by brick, dream by dream.
End of Chapter .
to be continued ...