Chapter 26: The First Strike

The air was still. The moon hung high over Fort Panhala, casting a pale glow over the rugged hills that surrounded the fort. Vidur Pant stood atop the ramparts, his gaze locked on the dark horizon. The Mughals hadn't made their move yet, but he could feel the tension in the air, like the weight of a storm about to break.

"Any sign of movement?" Vidur asked quietly as Narayanrao joined him, his silhouette blending into the shadows of the fort's walls.

"None so far," Narayanrao replied, his voice just as low. "But they're out there. We'll hear them soon enough."

Vidur nodded. "The men are ready?"

"As ready as they can be," Narayanrao said. "We've set the traps in the hills, and the ambush teams are in position. They'll strike the moment the Mughals enter the valley."

Vidur exhaled slowly, his mind racing with the possibilities. The plan was simple but dangerous—delay the Mughal forces long enough to weaken them before they reached the fort. Every minute they bought outside the walls would be crucial. But Vidur knew that nothing ever went exactly as planned in war.

It was just past midnight when the first faint sounds reached them—horses, boots crunching over gravel, and the low murmur of voices. Vidur stiffened, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his sword.

"They're here," Narayanrao whispered, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the dark valley below.

Vidur leaned forward, straining to hear. The sound of the approaching Mughal army was growing louder, though still faint, muffled by the hills. The enemy was moving cautiously, likely aware that they were walking into Maratha territory. Vidur could only hope that their caution would play into their hands.

"They're taking their time," Vidur murmured. "Good. We need them to walk right into our traps."

Narayanrao nodded, his expression tense. "The scouts have signaled—they're moving toward the eastern pass, just as we expected."

Vidur's heart pounded as he imagined the scene unfolding in the valley below. The ambush teams were lying in wait, hidden among the rocks and trees, ready to strike. If the Mughals fell into the trap, they'd be caught in a deadly crossfire. But if the Mughals were prepared, if they had somehow learned of the plan…

Narayanrao interrupted his thoughts. "It's time. We should head to the lower ramparts. We need to be ready."

Vidur nodded and turned, his boots thudding softly against the stone as he descended the steps of the fort. As they made their way down to the lower walls, the sound of the Mughal army grew clearer. Vidur could hear the distant rumble of wagons and the clatter of armor. They were close.

Minutes later, as Vidur and Narayanrao reached the lower ramparts, a sharp whistle pierced the air. Vidur's pulse quickened—it was the signal from the scouts. The Mughals had entered the valley.

"Here we go," Narayanrao muttered under his breath, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Vidur's eyes were locked on the valley below, where the enemy forces were hidden by the shadows of the hills. His breath caught in his throat as the first explosion shattered the night.

Boom!

The sound echoed across the valley, followed by the unmistakable cries of confusion and panic. The traps had been triggered. Vidur could see flashes of light in the distance as more explosions rocked the ground, throwing the Mughal forces into disarray.

"Hit them hard," Narayanrao said through gritted teeth.

The Maratha ambush teams sprang into action. Arrows rained down from the hilltops, slicing through the air and finding their marks among the confused Mughal soldiers. Vidur watched as the enemy forces scrambled for cover, but the valley's narrow paths offered little shelter.

"They weren't ready for this," Vidur murmured, his eyes scanning the chaos below.

But even as the Marathas struck with precision, Vidur could see the Mughals regrouping. Their officers were shouting orders, rallying the soldiers to form defensive lines. The element of surprise wouldn't last long.

"They're adapting quickly," Vidur said, a note of concern creeping into his voice. "We need to pull back before they recover."

Narayanrao nodded. "The ambush teams know when to fall back. We can't risk losing too many men out there."

As the ambush teams withdrew from the hills, Vidur and Narayanrao watched from the ramparts. The Mughals had taken heavy losses, but they were still advancing, albeit more cautiously now. Vidur could see their torches moving slowly through the valley, casting flickering light on the rocky terrain.

"They'll reach the fort by dawn," Narayanrao said grimly. "And when they do, they'll come in full force."

Vidur's mind raced. They had weakened the enemy, but it hadn't been enough to stop them completely. The real battle was about to begin, and it would take place within the walls of Fort Panhala.

"Get the men ready," Vidur said, his voice steady. "We'll hold the walls as long as we can. If the Mughals break through, we fall back to the inner keep."

Narayanrao nodded and left to rally the troops, his footsteps echoing down the stone corridors.

As the hours passed and the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, the tension in the fort was palpable. The soldiers stood at their posts, weapons in hand, eyes fixed on the valley below. They knew the Mughals were coming.

Vidur stood atop the walls, his gaze focused on the distant line of torches as the enemy approached. His hands were steady, but his mind raced with thoughts of what was to come. He had been through battles before, but something about this one felt different. The weight of responsibility hung heavy on his shoulders.

"Vidur," a voice called softly behind him. It was Santaji Ghorpade, his face set with determination.

Vidur turned to face him. "Santaji."

"The traps bought us some time, but it wasn't enough," Santaji said, his tone grim. "The Mughals will be at our gates soon."

"I know," Vidur replied. "We've weakened them, but they're still coming in force."

Santaji placed a hand on Vidur's shoulder. "We'll hold them off. We've faced worse."

Vidur nodded, appreciating Santaji's calm confidence, even in the face of overwhelming odds.

As the sun fully rose, the sound of drums and marching feet filled the air. The Mughals had arrived. Vidur's heart pounded as he looked down from the ramparts and saw the vast army stretching out before them, far more than they had anticipated. The enemy was heavily armed, with siege weapons in tow, ready to breach the walls of Fort Panhala.

"They brought everything," Narayanrao muttered as he returned to Vidur's side, his eyes scanning the enemy forces.

Vidur's mind raced as he watched the Mughal army take position. He could see the banners of their elite forces moving to the front lines, their commanders barking orders, preparing to launch the first assault.

"This is it," Vidur said, his voice low but determined. "We hold the fort. No matter what."

Narayanrao nodded, his expression hard. "For the Maratha Empire."

Vidur's gaze hardened as the Mughal siege engines rolled into position. The first volley of stones slammed into the fort's walls with a deafening crash, shaking the ground beneath their feet.

The battle for Fort Panhala had begun.