Chapter 41: The Storm Returns

The afternoon sun had barely dipped behind the hills when the first Mughal trebuchet launched its payload. Vidur Pant stood atop the ramparts, his eyes fixed on the massive boulder hurtling through the air. It slammed into the outer wall of Fort Panhala with a thunderous crash, sending cracks spidering through the stone.

"They've started," Vidur muttered under his breath, his gaze narrowing. The Mughals weren't waiting—they were coming in full force.

Narayanrao stood beside him, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "They've brought everything they had this time."

Vidur nodded, his mind racing. Siege engines. Catapults. More soldiers than we've seen before. This attack wasn't just meant to breach the walls—it was meant to crush them.

"Get the archers ready!" Vidur barked, his voice steady despite the rising tension.

The Maratha soldiers along the walls shifted, their faces pale but resolute. The archers raised their bows, waiting for Vidur's command.

"We hit their siege crews first," Vidur continued, his eyes scanning the battlefield below. "If we can take out the men operating those trebuchets, we can slow them down."

Narayanrao nodded, already moving to relay the orders. The tension in the air was thick, the weight of what was coming pressing down on every man in the fort.

The next trebuchet launched, its massive stone sailing through the air and slamming into the already weakened section of the wall. Vidur flinched as the ground trembled beneath his feet, but his focus didn't waver.

"Archers, fire!" Vidur shouted, his voice carrying over the noise of battle.

A volley of arrows shot from the ramparts, arcing through the sky before raining down on the Mughal siege crews below. The first line of Mughal soldiers crumpled under the barrage, but the trebuchets continued their assault, undeterred.

"Reload! Keep firing!" Vidur ordered, his eyes darting between the walls and the advancing enemy.

The archers moved quickly, their hands trembling but steady as they prepared for the next volley. The sound of the trebuchets launching again filled the air, and Vidur's heart sank as he saw another stone hurtling toward the fort.

"They're not slowing down," Narayanrao muttered, his eyes darkening as he watched the Mughal siege engines advance.

Vidur's jaw clenched. "We need to hit them harder."

Vidur turned, his eyes locking onto Narayanrao. "We need to send a team out. Sabotage the siege engines before they get too close."

Narayanrao's brow furrowed. "That's a death mission. The Mughals have doubled their numbers. We'll be slaughtered before we reach them."

Vidur's mind raced. He's right. But we can't just wait for them to break through.

"Then we don't send a large group," Vidur said, his voice calm but determined. "A small, fast team. We hit them, set fire to the engines, and fall back."

Narayanrao hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Who do we send?"

Vidur's eyes scanned the soldiers below, his mind weighing the options. "I'll lead the team. We can't risk anyone else."

Narayanrao's eyes widened. "You? No. You're the one holding this place together, Vidur. If you don't make it back…"

Vidur cut him off, his voice firm. "There's no time for debate. I'm going."

Narayanrao looked at him, his face filled with worry, but he nodded. "Then I'm coming with you."

Vidur didn't argue. There wasn't time. "We leave at dusk."

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the battlefield, Vidur, Narayanrao, and a small group of Maratha soldiers slipped out of the fort under the cover of darkness. The sound of the trebuchets launching still echoed in the distance, but the Mughals hadn't noticed their approach yet.

Vidur led the way, his heart pounding in his chest as they moved swiftly through the tall grass that separated them from the Mughal camp. Every step was measured, every breath controlled. We can't afford to be seen. Not yet.

As they neared the first siege engine, Vidur signaled for the group to stop. He crouched low, peering through the darkness. The massive wooden structure loomed above them, surrounded by Mughal soldiers.

"We take out the guards first," Vidur whispered, his voice barely audible. "Then we set fire to the engines."

Narayanrao nodded, his face tense. "Quick and quiet."

Vidur drew his dagger, motioning for the others to do the same. They moved silently through the shadows, their steps muffled by the soft ground. The first guard never saw them coming. Vidur's dagger flashed in the moonlight, and the man crumpled to the ground without a sound.

One by one, the guards fell, their bodies slumping into the darkness as the Maratha soldiers moved swiftly through the camp.

"Now," Vidur whispered, his voice urgent. "Set the fires."

The soldiers moved quickly, dousing the wooden siege engines in oil they had brought with them. Vidur lit a torch, the flames flickering brightly in the darkness. For a moment, his heart raced. This has to work.

He touched the torch to the oil-soaked wood, and the fire roared to life. Flames leaped up the side of the siege engine, consuming it in moments. The heat was intense, filling the air with thick, acrid smoke.

Narayanrao appeared beside him, his face glowing in the firelight. "We need to move. Now."

Vidur nodded, his eyes scanning the camp. The Mughals were starting to notice the flames, their shouts of alarm echoing through the night.

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

The small group of Marathas retreated swiftly, their feet pounding the ground as the fire raged behind them. The Mughal soldiers were in pursuit now, their shouts growing louder as they closed the distance.

"Faster!" Vidur hissed, his heart pounding in his chest. The fort was in sight, but the Mughal soldiers were gaining on them.

Arrows whistled past Vidur's head as he sprinted toward the gates. He could hear the hooves of Mughal cavalry in the distance, the sound growing louder with every second.

"They're right behind us!" Narayanrao called, his voice strained.

Vidur gritted his teeth, his legs burning with the effort. We're almost there. Just a little farther.

The gates of Fort Panhala loomed ahead, and Vidur could see the soldiers on the walls, ready to provide cover. The Mughal soldiers were closing in fast, but the fort was within reach.

"Get inside!" Vidur shouted as they neared the gates.

The gates slammed shut behind them just as the first wave of Mughal arrows clattered against the stone walls. Vidur collapsed against the gate, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

"We made it," Narayanrao said, his voice filled with disbelief.

Vidur nodded, though his mind was already racing. We burned the siege engines, but the Mughals are still out there.

"They'll come at us again," Vidur muttered, his voice hard. "But we bought ourselves time."

Santaji Ghorpade appeared, his eyes wide as he surveyed the scene. "The fire's spreading. That should slow them down."

Vidur wiped the sweat from his brow, his gaze fixed on the battlefield beyond the walls. "It won't stop them for long."

The fires burned through the night, casting an orange glow over the Mughal camp. From the walls of Fort Panhala, Vidur could see the destruction they had caused. The siege engines were reduced to smoldering heaps of wood, but the Mughals were already regrouping, their soldiers still gathering beyond the reach of the flames.

Narayanrao stood beside him, his face set in grim determination. "We slowed them down, Vidur. But what's next?"

Vidur's jaw clenched, his mind racing with possibilities. We've delayed the inevitable, but the real fight is still ahead.

"We wait," Vidur said quietly, his eyes never leaving the enemy camp. "And we prepare for the next wave."