As Aditya sat alone in the dimly lit military tent, his mind raced with revelations and uncertainties. He had pieced together the puzzle of his situation, realizing that he had somehow transmigrated to a parallel world, one strikingly similar to his own, yet with crucial differences.
The unfolding events around him resembled those from his past, but with subtle differences that could change history's course.
Right now, the only person he could rely on was his friend Bheem, who had gone out to seek help. Bheem was a trusted companion, and they had fought many battles together, always relying on each other's support. In the last skirmish, it was Bheem who had saved him.
In this timeline, King Hemu's artillery was destroyed but not captured, which was very different from what Aditya had experienced before.
The names of the Mughal leaders had also changed. Instead of Babur as the founder, there was Iqbal, and there were rumours about a young ruler named Afzal leading the Mughal forces instead of Akbar. And his father is also Ziauddin instead of Humayun but he died on same time the Humayun did.
On the contrary, Hemu's history is similar. He was a Hindu general under Sher Shah Suri, and after Sher Shah's untimely demise, he assumed the leadership of the Sur Empire. He declared himself the Hindu emperor, uniting other Hindu rulers and commanding more authority in Afghan ranks to continue the battle against the Mughals. The upcoming battle will decide who will be the ultimate ruler of India, where he is fated to be defeated.
Aditya concluded that he had somehow transmigrated to a parallel world in the past where variables exist, and many things could change. Whatever he would do could alter the future. Fortunately, he held a good memory, but how long it would stay sharp still remained a doubt.
As Aditya thought about the implications of the different timeline, he remembered another important detail: the leader of the enemy forces was still the well-known Bairam Khan.
Bairam Khan was famous for being very smart and always loyal to the Mughal side. He was a strong opponent whose presence on the battlefield could make a big difference for the Mughal forces.
Realizing this, Aditya understood that even though there were new leaders among the Mughals, Bairam Khan's skills and influence would still be very important in deciding the outcome of the upcoming battle.
His tactical skills could be an even bigger problem for King Hemu's forces than before. This meant that Aditya would have to be very careful and clever in dealing with this guy.
At one hand he thought about joining the Mughal forces, using his knowledge to help reduce the damage by the Hemu's army. The idea of taking credit for himself and improving the future's outcome tempted him.
Alternatively, Aditya thought about convincing King Hemu to change his strategy, to prevent the terrible outcome awaiting his forces on the battlefield. The idea of changing history to save many lives troubled him deeply.
Lost in thought, Aditya was surprised by the sound of footsteps nearing the tent. He glanced up and saw Bheem entering, followed by their squad captain, who had come to see how Aditya was doing.
"Aditya, are you alright?" Bheem asked, his brow furrowed with concern as he took in Aditya's troubled expression.
Aditya smiled to reassure Bheem, but inside, he felt overwhelmed by the situation.
"I'm okay, Bheem," he said calmly, even though he felt confused inside.
"Just trying to make sense of everything" he murmured.
The squad captain came closer, looking closely at Aditya.
"We heard reports of a skirmish near the northern perimeter," he said with authority. "Are you fit for duty, soldier?"
Aditya nodded, thinking hard about what to do. He knew he had a crucial decision to make, whether to align himself with the Mughal forces and potentially alter the course of history on his favour, or to stay loyal to King Hemu and try to change the tragic fate that awaited them at Panipat.
But before he could formulate a response, the squad captain's gaze hardened, his expression becoming more serious.
"Soldier, we need every able-bodied soldier on the front lines tomorrow," he continued as his voice seemed urgent. "The fate of our empire hangs in the balance, and we cannot afford any hesitation or doubt."
"I'll be ready, sir," he said firmly. "No matter, What it takes."
As the squad captain nodded and took his leave, cautioning them to prepare well for the challenges ahead, Bheem and Aditya were left alone in the tent. They both felt the seriousness of their upcoming mission.
Sensing the gravity of the situation, Aditya approached Bheem, with determined eyes
"Bheem, I need you to listen to me," Aditya began, his tone earnest as he locked eyes with his friend. "I have a plan for tomorrow, but I can't do it alone. Are you willing to join me?"
**** Scene change ****
In the grand tent in the middle of the Mughal camp, Afzal sat on his throne, surrounded by his advisors and commanders. They looked eager and excited. They talked about plans and strategies for the upcoming battle with the tension of an upcoming battle palpable in the air.
As the meeting progressed, the atmosphere grew increasingly cheerful as Bairam Khan, surrounded by his trusted associates, entered the tent. His arrival was met with nods of respect and murmurs of approval from those gathered, a testament to his esteemed reputation as a master tactician and military leader.
Approaching Afzal with a confident smile, Bairam Khan bowed respectfully before speaking. "Your Majesty, I bring news of great success," he declared with pride.
"Thanks to the valor and ingenuity of Alu Quili Khan Shaibani, the enemy's cannons have been made useless."
At his words, a smile spread across Afzal's youthful face, his eyes alight with satisfaction.
"Excellent news, indeed," he replied with approval. "Alu Quili Khan, you have done the Mughal Empire a great service. Tell us, how did you achieve such a feat?"
Alu Quili Khan stepped forward, his chest puffed with pride as he recounted the events that led to their victory.
"Your Majesty, it was by the grace of Allah that we stumbled upon the transportation of the enemy's cannons," he explained with respect.
"Though our initial intention was to capture them for our own use, we feared that reinforcements would arrive before we could secure them. So we chose instead to destroy the cannons, salvaging only a fraction of their numbers."
Bairam Khan nodded in approval, his eyes gleaming with admiration for his comrade's quick thinking. "A wise decision, Alu Quili Khan," he praised. "Your actions have dealt a significant blow to our enemies and bolstered our own forces.
With your leadership, I have no doubt that we will emerge victorious in the battles to come."
"Your Majesty," Alu Quili Khan began with caution, "while the destruction of the enemy's cannons is indeed a significant blow, it may not be enough to secure our victory."
Afzal's expression darkened with apprehension as he pondered Alu Quili Khan's words. "Yes, esteemed advisor," he interjected, "what good are twenty cannons against the might of Hemu's vast elephants? I fear the bloodshed that awaits our people if we proceed with this course of action."
Bairam Khan's lips curled into a wry smile, "Your Majesty, with the threat of Hemu's cannons neutralized,
we hold the advantage. We cannot let this chance go where the enemy has lost its main advantage."
Afzal spoke up, breaking the tension in the room. He sounded unsure but hopeful.
"I'm thinking about doing things differently, "he said carefully, getting everyone's attention.
"Maybe we can try to make peace with Hemu. We could talk and agree to let him have Delhi while we retreat to Kabul and share the border with Punjab.
It may not be victory, but it would spare our people from further bloodshed."
Bairam Khan's eyes narrowed with impatience as he dismissed Afzal's concerns "Your Majesty, peace with Hemu? Have you lost your senses?"
Bairam Khan retorted with clear disrespect. "To suggest such a course of action would be to admit defeat before the battle has even begun. We cannot show weakness to our enemies, lest they perceive it as an invitation to strike."
Afzal's resolve wavered under Bairam Khan's stern gaze, but he remained steadfast in his belief.
"But, wazir (prime minister)," he persisted, "surely there is merit in seeking a diplomatic solution. If we can avoid further bloodshed and secure a peaceful resolution, is it not worth considering?"
Turning to face Afzal directly, Bairam Khan pressed on, his tone laced with urgency. "Do you truly believe that Hemu will simply allow us to retreat to Kabul unopposed?
What guarantee do we have that he will not pursue us and attack our people once we have turned our backs?"
Bairam Khan looked at Afzal with a sneer and laughed. "Peace with Hemu would only serve to weaken us, Your Majesty,"
he asserted with scorn in his face. "We must show strength and determination if we are to emerge victorious. Anything less would be an insult to the legacy of the Mughal Empire."
Afzal's confidence trembled under Bairam Khan's penetrating gaze, his mind revolved with doubt and uncertainty. "But what choice do we have?"
As Bairam Khan outlined his strategy for victory, Afzal's heart raced as he listened to the details of Bairam Khan's plan, his face twisted with conflicting emotions.
"No, Bairam Khan," Afzal said firmly, his voice shaking but determined. "I won't bring shame to the Mughal name. We can't use cowardly methods to win this battle."
Bairam Khan's eyes narrowed. "Your Majesty, you are too naive and kind-hearted even for the enemy." He lectured, "Such qualities will only bring doom upon the Mughal dynasty.
He remained steadfast in his persuasion. "Your Majesty, this is not about cowardice," he urged, "This is about securing the future of the sultanate, of fulfilling the ambitions of your late father, the great Sultan Ziauddin.
I have promised him that we will conquer all of India and spread the glory of Islam. As his son, I expect you to honour his wishes and ensure the greatness of our empire."
Afzal's heart sank as he realized the uselessness of his self-suggestion, "Very well,"
He reluctantly agreed, saying, "But remember, wazir, if we go this way, our people's blood will be on our hands. I'll make my decision tomorrow."
Feeling the weight of his decision, Afzal knew he faced a crucial moment. His choices would affect the Mughal Empire's future. With a heavy heart, he prepared for the challenges ahead, aware that what he decided would shape his legacy for generations.