Peace treaty of Blood

***In a cave in night time***

In the dimly lit confines of a cavern, Afzal slowly regained consciousness, his vision hazy as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. A flickering bone fire cast eerie shadows against the rocky walls, illuminating a makeshift camp within a cave where fruits and herbs lay scattered nearby. As his senses sharpened, Afzal's gaze fell upon a figure sharpening a knife, the glint of metal catching his eye.

Recognition dawned upon him as he realized this was the same assailant who had ambushed him in the tent in broad day light. Panic surged through him as he attempted to move, only to find himself tightly bound. With fear gripping his voice, he called out to the figure in desperation. "Who are you? What do you want?"

Aditya stepped forward, his demeanor calm yet resolute.

"I am Aditya, the bastard son of Hemu," he declared, his voice carrying a hint of defiance.

As Afzal's eyes widened in terror at the mention of Hemu's name, he recoiled in disbelief.

"Impossible! We have no news of such a son," he protested, his voice tinged with fear.

Aditya's expression remained unchanged as he explained, "That's because I am illegitimate, hidden away until now. But before the battle, my father sent me on a mission to wipe you out."

Afzal's fear intensified, his instincts urging him to keep his distance. "Don't come near me! Khan Baba won't spare you," he warned with a trembling voice.

But Aditya's response was serious, his tone unwavering. "It's not that I want to kill you. But if I let you go, you might flee back to Kabul, and this cycle of catch and run will continue."

Afzal's mind raced with the implications of Aditya's words. "Your father will be dead by tomorrow and khan baba will find me," he retorted defiantly.

Drawing closer, Aditya whispered, "Arrows won't work, kid."

Afzal's shock was palpable as he struggled to comprehend Aditya's cryptic warning.

Sensing Afzal's panic, Aditya grew more confident. "We have spies, and so do you. We can wage this war decades as we have both men and technology. Our strength is formidable. By the time you realize, many of your people will be dead. And who knows there is always a third party."

Afzal fell silent, contemplating the grim reality of their situation. He wondered what his father might choose. He remembered the teachings of his mother and questioned if it was the right choice. He felt helpless, as there was no advisor, and now he had to make decisions himself.

"We seek peace, not war," he finally admitted, his voice heavy with resignation. "I don't want our men to die."

Aditya's demeanor softened, sensing an opportunity. He couldn't believe it would be so easy, as he was merely testing the waters.

"Then believe in the power of noble blood," he urged.

As Aditya outlined his plan, Afzal's initial shock gave way to cautious hope. "Is this truly possible?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Aditya nodded solemnly. "You have to believe it. I will make it work.," he affirmed by thinking of his past history lessons.

As Aditya and Afzal discussed their plan, Aditya called out to Bheem, who had been standing guard outside the cave. Bheem returned, visibly relieved, his expression mirroring the exhaustion of a long night's watch.

"Seriously, bro, if not for this cave, I don't know how we could have passed the night," Bheem admitted, his voice tinged with exhaustion and gratitude.

Bheem felt a surge of panic as he noticed Afzal, untied and seemingly free to move.

Aditya offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Bheem. Afzal won't flee," he assured, his tone confident.

Bheem's tension eased slightly at Aditya's words, but his relief was short-lived. Aditya's next words caught him off guard.

"Bro, you can't stay with us tonight," Aditya announced, his tone serious.

Bheem's panic was evident as he protested vehemently. "But why? I've been with you all this time," he argued, his voice tinged with desperation.

Aditya's expression softened as he sought to calm his friend's fears. "I know, Bheem, but you have a mission that only you can accomplish," he explained, his tone gentle yet firm.

Bheem's protests continued, but Aditya persisted, appealing to their friendship and the promise of rewards once their task was complete.

Reluctantly, Bheem agreed, his initial resistance gave up in the sense of duty and loyalty for his friend.

 ***Early next morning, Mughal tent***

In the dimly lit tent, shadows danced against the canvas walls, mirroring the turmoil within Bairam Khan's restless mind. His weary form moved with an air of agitation, the weight of the night's search mission etched into the lines of his face. Despite the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm him, his spirit remained resolute, unwavering in its determination to find the young Badshah Afzal.

As the hours dragged on, Ali Quli Khan entered the tent, his expression reflecting the same concern that clouded Bairam Khan's mind. With a heavy sigh, Bairam Khan acknowledged his companion's presence, inwardly fearing the inevitable conversation that would follow.

"Any news of the young Badshah?" Ali Quli Khan inquired, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.

Bairam Khan shook his head wearily. "The jungle is vast, and the darkness of night shrouds our efforts. We've dispatched search parties to the potential checkpoint areas outside of Panipat, but..."

Before he could finish his sentence, a guard burst into the tent, interrupting their conversation with urgent news.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lords," the guard began, "but there's a messenger outside. Claims he knows the whereabouts of the young Badshah. He bears two parchments."

Bairam Khan's interest piqued at the mention of the parchments, his caution heightened by the unexpected development.

"Alright, let him in quickly," Bairam Khan instructed the guard.

The guard hesitated before responding, "He mentioned that the contents are written in Devanagari script and he wishes to read it in front of the Mughal court."

Bairam Khan nodded in understanding. "Very well. Assemble the court meeting in the larger tent and call all the leaders in my name. And make sure he doesn't escape."

***Mughal Court arranged in tent***

As the preparations were made, the messenger returned and announced, "I have come with the words of Badshah Afzal."

All eyes turned towards the messenger as the anticipation in the room grew palpable.

The messenger's voice trembled slightly as he read aloud the contents of the parchment, his words echoing with a weight that seemed to hang heavy in the air.

Messenger, "I, Afzal, son of former Mughal ruler Ziauddin and current Mughal emperor, hereby declare peace with the forces of Hemu..."

Bairam Khan's eyes widened in disbelief as he listened to the messenger recite the unexpected declaration of peace. The implications of Afzal's words left him reeling, his mind struggling to process the gravity of the situation.

Messenger, "...any member violating this treaty after it is known will be considered a traitor and will be punished with death."

Bairam Khan's brow furrowed in concern as he contemplated the consequences of such a decree. The severity of Afzal's warning only served to underscore the seriousness of the situation.

Messenger, "...we Mughals accept and acknowledge the sovereignty of Hem Chandra's captured regions as Hindustan or Bharat, from Bengal to the Delhi Sultanate, up to the Ravi river in Punjab."

The messenger's words fell like a heavy shroud over the tent, casting a pall of uncertainty over the assembled company. The scope of the territorial concessions outlined in Afzal's declaration left little doubt as to the magnitude of the peace agreement.

Messenger, "...we begin the era of peace and friendship between two empires. Our royal noble blood shall be proof of our treaty's legitimacy."

Bairam Khan's jaw tightened as he absorbed the finality of Afzal's words. The prospect of peace between the Mughals and Hemu's forces was both tantalizing and fraught with peril, the fragile balance of power between the two empires hanging in the balance.

As the messenger concluded his reading, a tense silence settled over the tent, the weight of Afzal's proclamation hanging heavy in the air. 

Snatching the parchments from the messenger, Ali Quli Khan unravelled the first with trembling hands, his heart sinking with each passing moment as the whole content included as below:

"I, Afzal, son of the late ruler Ziauddin and current Mughal emperor, hereby declare peace with the forces of Hemu. I order my forces to immediately cease any acts of hostility that may violate this treaty. Any member found violating this treaty after its proclamation will be deemed a traitor and subjected to punishment by death.

Prince Aditya, though illegitimate, bears the true royal blood of Hem Chandra and has chosen to halt the war with his royal authority. We, the Mughals, accept and recognize the sovereignty of Hem Chandra's captured regions as Hindustan region, extending from Bengal to the Delhi Sultanate in the northwestern part of Hindustan(India) , up to the Ravi river in Punjab in west to northern himalayas of kashmir as final borders between two empires.

Meanwhile, the Mughals will retain control over the territories of Kabul, Sindh and the Punjab borders, which we will refer to as Pakistan empire.

We declare the conflict between us to be a draw, considering each other as equals. With this resolution, we foresee no further justification for violence and expect to depart peacefully to the borders of Punjab without pursuit.

We anticipate the safe return of any of our people who may be captured or associates himself with us, with a reciprocal expectation for the treatment of any of their people we might capture without any violence.

Furthermore, I, on behalf of the Mughal emperor, pledge that there will be no further acts of war from our side for the next five years and expect the same from the new Hemu's empire in Hindustan(India).

With these terms, we usher in an era of peace and friendship between our two empires. Our royal lineage serves as testament to the legitimacy of this treaty.

However, any breach of this accord from our side will be condemned by history as slanderous. and so we validate it.

We'll solidify this treaty with our blood signatures and henceforth, this shall be referred in history as the Peace Treaty of Blood. At the bottom of the document, Badshah Afzal's. placed his thumbprint beneath his name, followed by Prince Aditya."

His initial reaction was one of panic and disbelief, the weight of loss bearing down upon him like a leaden cloak. The parchment slipped from his grasp, fluttering to the ground in a silent proclamation of defeat.

Ali Quli Khan's voice was tinged with disbelief. "This... this seems impossible. Peace with Hemu? But why now? And what about Afzal?"

Bairam Khan's tone was heavy with sorrow. "I'm at a loss, Ali Quli Khan. Truly, I am. But our priority is finding Afzal and understanding this situation. We cannot allow this treaty to go unchallenged."

At the same time the messenger interrupted, his hands trembling, attempted to hand over the parchment to Bairam Khan. "Esteemed sir, this is for you," he said nervously.

As Bairam Khan unfolded the second parchment, initially he was surprised as it was written in urdu but later a surge of fury coursed through his veins, as the contents were :

"Hey, Bairam Khan! Rumor has it you're as bald as they come. Your dome shines brighter than a freshly laid egg!

I've also heard you've got a lovely wife, but no heir to carry on your name. What a pity! Who knows what you're putting in there, huh? Honestly my father is an expert in this. Anyways, listen up, if you try any funny business and so much as scratch even a soldier or my messenger and my people, you'll be seeing your precious little one's head hanging in Purana Qila. Once your people return, and mine as well, I give you my word as Hemu's representative that your emperor will be safely escorted back to you, and he will be honored as our esteemed guest till then. And mark my words, I'll be sending out invitations to other Hindu rulers to come and share Delhi. If it's not me ruling, I will make sure it won't be you either! So, better grab what you can while you still can, old Baldy. HAHHAHAHAHAHA.

- with love and expertise

Aditya the bastard".

Ali Quli Khan watched in silence as Bairam Khan's expression shifted from disbelief to anguish. He moved to offer comfort, but before he could speak, Bairam Khan's trembling hands reached for the sword.

With a swift motion, Bairam Khan threw the parchment in air and slashed it with his sword, his rage boiling over in a torrent of emotion. The pieces fluttered to the ground, scattered remnants of a message that had brought only sorrow and anger.

"ADITYAAA! f###ing bastard! I will kill you. I swear I will kill you-BASTARD! 

-GAAAAAAAAH!!!!!" Bairam Khan's voice thundered through the tent, his fury unleashed in a primal roar. 

Everyone's eyes widened in shock at the sudden outburst, their own emotions mirroring the tumultuous storm raging within his leader's heart.

As Bairam Khan's anger echoed through the tent, a sense of foreboding settled over them, the shadow of betrayal and foolishness of their naive young emperor , looming large in everyone's mind.

Bairam Khan stormed out of the court in a fit of anger, his hurried steps echoing through the tent as he sought to regain control of the situation.

Sensing his fury, those present made way for him, allowing him to pass unhindered. With a curt command, he instructed, "Ensure the treaty terms are followed, especially regarding the prisoners. And I am not to be disturbed for the rest of the day."

He left his advisors and subordinates dumbstruck to navigate the unfolding events on their own.