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The tense atmosphere enveloped the tent, its canvas walls fluttering in the gusts of wind outside. Three commanders sat in a semi-circle, their eyes fixed on Prince Harsha, who was seated on the large, soft bed, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The silence in the tent was deafening, and the commanders gulped anxiously.

Commander Bhaskar, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his usually stern face betraying a hint of unease. His sharp eyes, accustomed to reading battlefields, now attempted to gauge the prince's reaction.

Next to him, Commander Hariharan clenched and unclenched his fists, his jaw set in a rigid line. The seasoned warrior's usually confident demeanour was replaced with visible tension as he glanced between the prince and his fellow commanders, hoping their words had struck the right chord.

Commander Venkata, the eldest and most experienced of the trio, maintained a calm exterior that did little to hide the worry in his eyes. He watched the prince intently, his mind replaying their conversation.

'Youngest Prince, eh? So I have multiple older brothers... Interesting,' thought Harsha.

"What happened to the battle after I passed out?" Harsha speculated aloud, his gaze firm on the commanders.

"Your Highness, we won the battle, largely due to your heroic feats in saving Commander Hariharan," said Venkata Reddy, his voice steady as he took the lead, his experience lending authority to his words.

"So, this is the idiot who commanded the army at that time?" Harsha remarked, pointing at Commander Hariharan, who was fidgeting nervously in his seat.

At the remark, Hariharan jumped up, stood straight, and hung his head in shame. Silence fell over him as he struggled to find words to address his incompetence on the battlefield.

"What were the casualties, and when is the next battle?" inquired Harsha, his tone calm and steady.

Bhaskar, taken aback by the prince's stern words toward Hariharan, composed himself before responding. "Your Highness, the next battle is likely already underway. His Majesty is leading the forces in Bidar."

Venkata Reddy, sensing the need to provide more context, added, "The casualties were significant, Your Highness. We lost many brave soldiers, but your actions turned the tide in our favour. As for the current battle, His Majesty Krishna Deva Raya has ordered us to hold our position here in Gulbarga."

'Krishna Deva Raya... the strongest emperor in the history of the Vijayanagara Empire. And now, I am his son!' Harsha mused internally.

Harsha nodded, then looked directly at Venkata. "And what is our plan while the main forces engage in Bidar? Are there any immediate threats we should be aware of?"

Venkata exchanged a quick glance with Bhaskar before replying, "Our scouts are monitoring the surrounding areas, but there are no immediate threats reported. Our orders are to secure this position and support the main forces as needed."

"Your Highness, His Majesty has ordered you to return to the capital city as soon as possible," explained Venkata Reddy.

"Why is that? Doesn't the emperor need someone to lead the army in case he needs reinforcements in Bidar?" Harsha inquired, his voice steady and his piercing gaze fixed on Venkata Reddy.

"Your Highness, we must follow orders from above, and His Majesty hasn't lost a battle since he ascended to the throne. So I don't think we have to worry about that," expressed Venkata Reddy.

"Fine. Make preparations for my departure tomorrow," Harsha commanded, sinking back into the bed. "You are dismissed. I need to rest now."

The three commanders stood and gave a respectful bow to Harsha before quietly exiting the tent. They were taken aback by the prince's sudden transformation. The once lazy and unremarkable prince now radiated an authoritative aura that made them feel small in his presence.

"Brother Hari, you were right. I apologize," said Bhaskar, exhaling a heavy breath of relief.

"The prince has changed. He wasn't like this before," Venkata remarked with a sigh.

Hariharan wore a nervous expression after the encounter, still feeling the prince's cold gaze piercing through him. He was the least experienced commander of the bunch, having been given the title during the war. Bhaskar, despite being younger than him, had already been a commander for over a year.

"You should have seen how he fights! The prince was like a legendary warrior from the epics, hacking and beheading foes," exclaimed Hariharan, a shiver running down his spine as he recalled the prince, drenched in blood, cutting down Bahmani soldiers.

"Bhaskar, prepare some troops from your unit to escort the prince to the capital tomorrow. Hari, you're in charge of vetting the food and inspecting the prince's carriage for any defects. Ensure everything is ready by morning," ordered Venkata Reddy, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Sure, I'll assign a unit leader and 150 troops from my unit to escort the prince. They will be ready by tomorrow morning, Brother Venkata," agreed Bhaskar, as he walked towards his tent.

"Well, I will assign some troops from my unit to escort the prince as well," voiced Venkata, his tone decisive.

"Good idea, Brother Venkata. We need to ensure the prince's safety at all costs," agreed Bhaskar.

Hariharan nodded, though his face still bore traces of anxiety. "I will see to the prince's food and carriage immediately," he said, determination in his voice.

"Make sure there are no mistakes this time, Hari," Venkata added, his eyes narrowing slightly "The prince's safety is paramount,"

"I understand, Brother Venkata," Hariharan replied, bowing slightly before leaving.

As Hariharan walked away, Bhaskar turned to Venkata "He's got a lot to prove. Let's hope he doesn't falter again,"

Venkata sighed, stroking his chin thoughtfully "Let's just make sure everything is perfect for the prince's journey,"

The three commanders exchanged a brief nod of agreement before parting ways, each heading to fulfil their respective duties with a sense of urgency.

Harsha woke up later, feeling a deep sense of relief and comfort from his injuries. Morning light filtered through the tent, marking the day he was to begin his journey to the Royal Capital of the empire from the front lines.

Maids were called to prepare his bath and lay out his clothes. The warm water eased his aching muscles, and he felt refreshed as he dressed in a long tunic and pyjamas.

Stepping out of his tent, Harsha saw the bustling camp spread out before him. The camp sprawled across the open field, a hive of activity under the intense sun. The heat was tangible, with waves shimmering off the ground, distorting the air. Soldiers moved with purpose, their armour glinting in the sunlight. Tents dotted the landscape, smoke rising from cooking fires, and the clanging of metal mingled with shouts of training drills. Amidst this lively scene, the distant chirps of sparrows provided a soothing contrast, their gentle melodies echoing through the bustling camp.

Commander Hariharan came running to him as he exited the tent and, with a salute, mentioned, "Your Highness, the carriages and escort are ready. We have also done checks on your carriages to ensure safety."

"I see. Guide me there and also fetch me a sword. I lost mine on the battlefield," voiced Harsha, shifting his gaze from the surroundings to Hariharan.

After walking through the camp, he reached an open field where a carriage came into view. A few hundred armoured soldiers, along with some cavalry, were also present in the escort unit to ensure his safe passage to the Capital City of the Empire.

All three commanders were present to see him off as well.

'So this is the power of the Royal Family in these times. It's pretty interesting to know,' contemplated Harsha as he made his way to the carriage.

Commander Hariharan came running with a sword in his hand and quickly handed it to him " Your Highness, Here is the sword you requested"

Harsha unsheathed the sword. The sword was a work of art, with a slightly curved blade made of the finest steel, shining with a silvery gleam. It had a single edge, sharp enough to cut through armour effortlessly. The hilt was wrapped in dark leather for a firm grip, while the crossguard and pommel were decorated with intricate gold designs. A ruby was set into the pommel, catching the light and casting a deep red glow.

"Not bad," remarked Harsha after inspecting the sword carefully.

Venkata Reddy and Bhaskar saluted him as soon as he reached the carriage. They offered their farewells and best wishes for a safe journey.

"Your Highness, may you have a safe and swift journey to the capital," Venkata Reddy said, his voice steady with respect.

"Yes, we will ensure everything goes smoothly here in your absence," added Bhaskar, nodding firmly.

"Fine," Harsha replied with an indifferent look, stepping into the carriage. With a final nod from the commanders, the carriage set off towards the capital, the wheels creaking softly as it began its journey. The escort unit fell into formation around the carriage, commencing his journey to the Capital.

Four Days Later.

'hm.. so this is how the capital city of the empire,' Harsha remarked as his eyes relayed on the passing scenery. He could see bustling streets filled with people smiling and shopping, huge temples with elegant designs, and tall gopurams with complex Dravidian patterns and grand carvings on the walls. The intricate details truly showcased the talent and craftsmanship of the artisans of this era.

The paved pathways were filled with people walking around wearing luxurious clothing, and there were huge roads for carriages to pass through in the middle of the city. Overlooking this beautiful and mesmerizing scenery was a large building heavily fortified with intricate golden designs carved into the gate - the Royal Palace of the Vijayanagara Empire, displaying the power and wealth of the Empire.

Author's Notes 

I will try to post one more chapter today. Do stay tuned. Thank you

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