Chapter 45: The Siege Tower Approaches

The massive siege tower rolled toward Fort Panhala, its towering form cutting through the morning mist like a harbinger of doom. Vidur Pant stood on the ramparts, his eyes locked on the monstrous structure inching closer with every passing second. The tension in the air was suffocating, and the sounds of battle around him felt muted, as if the fort itself was holding its breath.

"They're bringing their best now,"

Narayanrao muttered, his voice filled with dread as he watched the tower's slow but unstoppable advance. "That thing will crush the walls."

Vidur's jaw tightened as he measured the distance between the tower and the fort. They didn't have much time. "We need to destroy it before it reaches us," he said firmly, his voice cutting through the rising tension.

"How?" Narayanrao asked, his gaze shifting from Vidur to the oil barrels stacked along the ramparts. "We can't stop it head-on. The tower's too heavily armored."

Vidur's mind raced. He knew the siege tower would bring overwhelming numbers of Mughal soldiers straight to the top of the walls if it got close. And if the Mughals established a foothold up there, the fort would be overrun in hours. They had one shot to stop it.

"We'll set it on fire," Vidur said, his voice calm but decisive. "If we can get close enough to the base, we'll douse it with oil and light it up."

Narayanrao hesitated, his face pale with worry. "That means sending men out there. It's a suicide mission, Vidur."

Vidur's gaze didn't waver. "We don't have a choice."

The courtyard was filled with the sound of hurried footsteps and anxious murmurs as Vidur gathered a small group of Maratha soldiers near the base of the walls. Each man's face was lined with exhaustion, but their eyes reflected the same determination that had carried them through the siege so far.

"We've stopped their battering ram," Vidur began, his voice steady despite the weight of what he was about to ask. "But that tower is their final weapon. If it reaches the walls, they'll be able to flood the fort with soldiers. We can't let that happen."

The men exchanged uneasy glances, but no one spoke. Vidur's words hung heavy in the air.

"We're going to set it on fire," Vidur continued, his gaze moving from one soldier to the next. "We'll carry oil out to the base of the tower, douse it, and burn it before it reaches the fort. If we fail—" he paused, letting the gravity of the situation sink in, "—the fort falls."

Narayanrao stepped forward, his sword drawn. "I'm with you, Vidur. We fight together."

Vidur nodded, a small but determined smile flickering on his face. "We move fast. We move quiet. And we don't stop until that tower is nothing but ashes."

As the gate opened just wide enough to let the small group slip through, Vidur felt the weight of the moment press down on him. The Mughal soldiers were still distant, their attention focused on advancing the siege tower toward the fort. But that wouldn't last long. Once they spotted the Marathas, the real fight would begin.

The ground was uneven beneath their feet, the air heavy with tension. Vidur led the way, his heart pounding as they crept closer to the massive structure. His eyes flicked between the tower and the Mughal soldiers pushing it forward. We have to move fast.

"Keep low," Vidur whispered over his shoulder, his voice barely audible. "We can't be seen."

The soldiers followed in silence, their movements quick but measured as they closed in on the siege tower. The sound of its massive wooden wheels groaning against the earth filled the air, making every step feel like a race against time.

They reached the base of the tower without being detected, the hulking wooden structure looming over them like a great beast. Vidur signaled for the men to start pouring the oil, his eyes never leaving the Mughal forces beyond.

"Hurry," Vidur muttered, his voice thick with urgency. "We don't have much time."

The oil flowed freely, soaking the thick wooden beams that supported the siege tower. Vidur's heart pounded as he moved quickly, splashing oil across the base of the structure, his mind focused on the task at hand. If they could set the fire before being noticed, they might have a chance.

"Vidur," Narayanrao whispered urgently from beside him. "They're moving. We need to light it now."

Vidur's eyes darted to the Mughal soldiers, who had begun to notice the sudden movement near the tower. Shouts rang out, and the Mughal archers raised their bows, preparing to rain death down on the Marathas.

"Light it!" Vidur shouted, his voice rising above the growing chaos.

One of the soldiers struck a flint, and within moments, the oil-soaked beams erupted into flames. The fire spread rapidly, climbing the sides of the tower, the heat intense and the flames roaring with ferocity.

"We've done it!" Narayanrao shouted, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and triumph.

But Vidur didn't relax. His eyes remained fixed on the approaching Mughal soldiers. They were outnumbered, and the enemy was closing in fast.

"Fall back to the fort!" Vidur commanded, his voice sharp. "Now!"

The Maratha soldiers turned and ran, their feet pounding the earth as they made a desperate dash for the safety of the fort. Arrows whistled past them, thudding into the ground as the Mughal archers unleashed a relentless volley. Vidur's chest burned with exertion, but he forced himself to keep running, his eyes fixed on the gates ahead.

"Faster!" Vidur shouted, his voice hoarse. "Get inside!"

Narayanrao was close behind him, his breath ragged but his pace unwavering. "We're almost there!"

The gates loomed ahead, and the soldiers on the ramparts provided covering fire, their arrows cutting through the air as they aimed at the Mughal forces in pursuit. Vidur could hear the heavy footsteps of the enemy closing in behind him, but he didn't dare look back. The gates were so close.

With a final burst of energy, Vidur reached the gates, stumbling inside just as the heavy doors slammed shut behind them. His chest heaved as he collapsed against the wall, his entire body aching from the effort.

"We did it," Narayanrao panted beside him, his face streaked with sweat and dirt. "We stopped the tower."

Vidur nodded, though his mind was already racing. They had stopped the siege tower, but the fight wasn't over.

From the ramparts, Vidur watched as the flames consumed the siege tower, the massive wooden structure collapsing under the heat. The Mughal soldiers had pulled back, retreating to regroup, but the fire continued to burn, casting an orange glow over the battlefield.

"We've bought ourselves time," Vidur muttered, his voice filled with both relief and exhaustion.

Santaji Ghorpade joined him, his eyes fixed on the burning tower. "They'll be furious. They'll come back stronger."

Vidur nodded, his jaw tight. "We've delayed them, but we can't get complacent. They'll regroup, and when they do, they'll throw everything at us."

Narayanrao wiped the sweat from his brow, his voice low but firm. "We're running out of tricks, Vidur. We've fought off every wave they've sent, but how much longer can we keep this up?"

Vidur didn't answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon, where the Mughal camp still stretched out like a vast sea of tents and soldiers. How much longer could they hold out? The fort's walls were crumbling, the men were exhausted, and their supplies were dwindling. But there was no choice. They had to keep fighting.

"We hold the fort," Vidur said finally, his voice steady. "As long as we have breath left in our bodies, we hold."

The siege had not ended, only paused. And the next assault would come with the fury of a desperate enemy.