Chapter 56: Into the Heart of the Enemy

The first light of dawn had barely touched the sky when Vidur Pant led the small group of Maratha soldiers into the mist. The soft glow of the rising sun barely cut through the thick fog that hung low over the fields between Fort Panhala and the Mughal camp. Every step they took was measured, every movement deliberate, their bodies low and silent as they moved through the shadows.

Vidur's heart pounded in his chest, not from fear, but from the sheer weight of the moment. The plan they had crafted the night before was bold—dangerous, even—but it was the only way. We can't wait any longer. We need to strike first.

He glanced over at Narayanrao, who was just a few steps behind him. Even in the dim light, Vidur could see the resolve in his friend's eyes. They had fought together for so long now, and this moment felt like a turning point—either they would succeed and cripple the Mughal forces, or the siege would finally break them.

"Are we ready?"

Narayanrao's voice was low, barely a whisper. It carried with it the same tension that buzzed through the air around them.

Vidur gave a short nod. "As ready as we'll ever be."

Ahead of them, the outline of the Mughal camp began to take shape through the fog. The fires from the previous night's raid had died down, but the damage they had caused still lingered, the ground littered with debris and scattered supplies. Soldiers moved through the camp, their silhouettes blurry in the mist, unaware of the danger creeping closer.

"Stay low," Vidur whispered, signaling to the men behind him. "We strike fast and then fall back. No unnecessary risks."

The soldiers nodded, their faces set with determination. Despite the exhaustion weighing down on them, Vidur could see the glimmer of hope in their eyes. They know what's at stake.

Vidur's group split into two as planned. He would lead the first strike on the Mughal supply wagons, while Santaji Ghorpade led the attack on their siege engines. Both were vital targets—without supplies, the Mughals would weaken; without their siege engines, their assault on the fort would stall.

The mist worked in their favor, cloaking their approach as they neared the supply wagons, which were piled high with food, ammunition, and other essentials. The camp was still waking, the soldiers slow to rise, unaware of the silent threat moving through their ranks.

Vidur raised his hand, signaling the men to stop. They crouched low in the shadows, watching the guards near the wagons. There weren't many—only a handful of soldiers lazily patrolling the area.

"Now," Vidur whispered, his voice barely audible over the soft rustle of the wind.

With that, the Marathas sprang into action, their movements swift and efficient. Vidur moved like a shadow, his sword cutting through the air as he struck down the first guard before the man even had time to react. The others followed suit, dispatching the remaining guards with silent precision.

Within moments, the supply area was theirs.

"Light the wagons," Vidur ordered quietly, his eyes scanning the camp for any sign of movement. "Be quick."

The soldiers moved swiftly, setting the wagons ablaze with torches they had brought from the fort. The dry wood caught fire quickly, the flames licking up into the sky, bright and hungry. Smoke began to curl into the air, thick and dark, as the fire spread from one wagon to the next, consuming everything in its path.

Vidur's pulse quickened as he watched the destruction unfold. This is it. This is the blow we needed.

The Mughal camp erupted into chaos as the fire spread, the shouts of soldiers filling the air as they rushed to contain the blaze. Vidur could see the confusion on their faces as they scrambled to understand what was happening, their movements frantic and disorganized.

"Fall back!" Vidur shouted over the growing roar of the flames. "We've done enough. Get out before they regroup!"

The Maratha soldiers began their retreat, slipping back into the mist as the Mughal forces struggled to react. Vidur moved with them, his heart still pounding, but a small sense of victory settling in his chest. We did it.

But the danger wasn't over yet.

As they made their way back toward the safety of the fort, Vidur caught sight of movement in the corner of his vision—Mughal soldiers, finally aware of the attack, rushing toward them through the smoke and fog.

"They've seen us!"

Narayanrao shouted, his voice tight with urgency. "We need to move!"

Vidur cursed under his breath, his mind racing. We need to get out of here fast. He turned to his men, his voice sharp with command. "Double time! Don't stop for anything!"

The Marathas picked up their pace, moving swiftly through the thickening mist as the Mughal soldiers closed in behind them. The sound of clashing swords and shouting voices grew louder as the enemy pursued them, determined to cut them off before they could escape.

Vidur's breath came fast and heavy as he sprinted through the fog, his eyes scanning the landscape ahead for any sign of the fort. We're close. Just a little farther.

By the time Vidur and his men reached the fort's gates, the Mughal soldiers were dangerously close. The sound of their footsteps pounded in Vidur's ears as he turned to look over his shoulder, the glint of their weapons barely visible through the haze.

"Open the gates!" Vidur shouted, his voice hoarse from exertion. "Now!"

The gates creaked open just as Vidur and his men reached them, the heavy wood groaning under the strain. They slipped through the narrow opening, barely making it inside before the gates slammed shut behind them, cutting off the Mughals' pursuit.

Vidur collapsed against the wall, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The soldiers around him were equally exhausted, their faces streaked with sweat and dirt, but their eyes gleamed with a sense of triumph. They had done what they had set out to do.

"They'll be scrambling now,"

Narayanrao said as he leaned against the gate, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "That fire will take out a lot of their supplies."

Vidur nodded, though his mind was still racing. "It'll slow them down. But it won't stop them."

The victory felt real—tangible even—but Vidur knew it was only a temporary reprieve. The Mughal forces would recover, and when they did, their retaliation would be brutal. This was just the beginning.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the fort buzzed with quiet activity. The soldiers who had returned from the raid rested briefly, but Vidur knew they wouldn't have long to recover. The next attack could come at any moment, and they needed to be ready.

Vidur stood at the top of the ramparts, his gaze fixed on the Mughal camp in the distance. The fires had finally died down, but the smoke still hung in the air, a lingering reminder of the damage they had inflicted. The camp was stirring now, soldiers moving with renewed urgency as they worked to salvage what they could.

"They're going to hit us hard,"

Narayanrao said quietly as he joined Vidur on the ramparts. "When they do, it'll be worse than anything we've faced so far."

Vidur didn't respond immediately, his mind focused on the distant camp. He could feel the weight of the coming battle pressing down on him like a heavy cloak. We've bought ourselves time. But is it enough?

"They will come," Vidur said finally, his voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside him. "And when they do, we'll be ready."

Narayanrao glanced at him, his expression grim. "Are we?"

Vidur nodded, though the doubt lingered at the back of his mind. "We have to be."

As night fell, the fort was quiet once again, the soldiers resting in preparation for the battle they knew was coming. Vidur stood alone at the edge of the ramparts, his eyes scanning the horizon where the Mughal campfires flickered like stars in the distance.

The air was thick with anticipation, the stillness almost suffocating. Vidur's thoughts drifted as he stared out into the night, his mind racing with the weight of what was to come.

He could feel it in his bones—the next attack would be the most dangerous yet. The Mughal forces had been weakened by the raid, but they were far from broken. When they struck again, it would be with the full force of their might.

Vidur closed his eyes for a moment, letting the cool night air wash over him. We'll survive this. We have to.

But even as the thought crossed his mind, the doubt crept back in.