Plotting

Emperor Harishchandra's Court: The Guardian of the Realm

The grand hall of Mandore's royal palace buzzed with anticipation as the royal council convened. Ministers, nobles, and generals filled the room, their expressions a mix of pride and deference as they awaited Emperor Harishchandra's arrival. The heavy doors opened, and the emperor entered, his regal presence commanding immediate silence. Dressed in a gold-embroidered robe and adorned with the royal insignia, he took his seat at the head of the council table.

"Let us begin," he said, his voice deep and steady.

A minister stepped forward with a scroll, bowing before the emperor. "Maharaj, we bring news of Crown Prince Harsha's progress. After 18 months, his campaign against the bandits nears its conclusion. Veerendra and Samundra have returned to Mandore with their forces, victorious in Mand, Yodhey Pradesh Mewar and Jainagara. The crown prince himself is advancing into Matsya, the territory of the Naruka family. This will be his final destination before he, too, returns to Mandore."

The emperor listened intently, his expression a blend of pride and solemnity. The minister continued, "The people have taken to calling him 'The Guardian of the Realm,' or Rājyarakṣak. His reputation now spreads not only across Rajputana but even to our vassal territories. They see him as a protector and a beacon of hope."

A murmur of approval rippled through the court, but Harishchandra raised a hand to silence it. "The title is well-earned," he said, his tone reverent. "My son has not only cleaned the realm but restored the faith of the people in the crown. This is a proud day for our house and for Rajputana."

A Private Conversation with Bhimrao

After the court session, Emperor Harishchandra retired to his private chambers and summoned Bhimrao, the head of the royal spy network. The older man entered, his demeanor calm and composed, and bowed deeply.

"Bhimrao," the emperor began, gesturing for him to sit, "I wish to know every detail about Harsha's campaign. Spare nothing—his victories, his strategies, the challenges he has faced."

Bhimrao nodded and unrolled a smaller map of Rajputana, marked with the prince's path. "Your Majesty, the crown prince has exceeded all expectations. In Mand, Veerendra eliminated roaming bandits and cooperated seamlessly with the Bhati family to secure the borders. In Yodhey Pradesh, Samundra collaborated with the Chauhans to restore order and reopen trade routes. After that, Veerendra cleans Mandore, sweeping its lower regions and in Mewar collaborates with the Rana family, Samundra cleans Jainagara with rao family help , his highness cleans the Hadoti region with Hada family help. Both commanders credit Prince Harsha's foresight and planning for their success. He ensured their forces were well-supplied and coordinated even from afar."

The emperor leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "And his progress in Matsya?"

"Promising, Maharaj," Bhimrao replied. "The Naruka family has welcomed his arrival, and the prince has already begun strategizing to eliminate the remaining bandit groups. He has adapted quickly to the terrain and established rapport with the local leaders. His actions have inspired loyalty among the troops and the people alike."

Harishchandra smiled faintly, his pride evident. "He is proving to be the ruler I hoped he would become. And what of his reputation among the common folk?"

"It is growing like wildfire," Bhimrao said. "Every village he liberates speaks of his deeds. His men, too, spread tales of his leadership and valor. The title Rājyarakṣak resonates deeply with the people. It is more than a name—it is a symbol of their trust in him."

The emperor nodded, his expression contemplative. "Good. Let us ensure that this trust continues to grow. Bhimrao, I want you to send emissaries to every vassal lord and noble house. Let them hear of Harsha's deeds. Spread the stories among the people and the courts. This is not merely for glory but to unify Rajputana under a shared pride in our crown prince."

Bhimrao bowed. "As you command, Maharaj. The tales of his victories will echo through every corner of the realm."

Harishchandra stood, walking to the balcony overlooking the palace gardens. "Harsha's path has not been easy, but he has risen to every challenge. The title Rājyarakṣak is not just his—it is a reflection of our family's duty to this land. Let the people know their protector will soon return to them, victorious."

With a final bow, Bhimrao left the chamber, leaving the emperor alone with his thoughts. Harishchandra gazed out over his empire, the setting sun casting long shadows across the land. Pride swelled in his chest as he whispered, "My son, you are truly destined for greatness. May the gods watch over you on the rest of your journey." 

Reflections at the Naruka Palace

The quiet elegance of the Naruka family palace stood in stark contrast to the grueling campaign Harsha had led over the past eighteen months. The polished marble floors glimmered under the soft glow of oil lamps, their light casting flickering patterns on the ornate walls. Harsha stood by the intricately carved balcony, overlooking the sprawling Aravalli Mountains. The majestic peaks were bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun, their silhouettes a reminder of the natural beauty he had encountered during his journey.

For a moment, the prince closed his eyes, letting the breeze carry him back through time. The memories flowed freely, vivid and unrelenting. He saw himself in the dense forests of Jungladesh, sitting cross-legged among the Jat clans. He had shared their simple meals, laughed with their elders, and played the flute for their children. The haunting melodies had woven a temporary peace amid the chaos of the bandit-plagued region. Their trust in him had not come easily, but it was hard-earned and unshakable.

His thoughts shifted to Hadoti. The lush green valleys and serene lakes still lingered in his mind's eye. He had marveled at the ancient temples that stood as silent sentinels of a forgotten era, their weathered stone carvings a testament to the region's rich heritage. The Hada family's cooperation had been instrumental in bringing stability to the region. The sight of villages once terrorized by outlaws now bustling with life and hope had filled him with quiet satisfaction.

And then there was Matsya. The rugged terrain of the Aravalli Mountains had tested both his endurance and his resolve. He recalled the thrill of the hunt, the lion's piercing gaze before their confrontation, and the respect he had gained from his men for leading from the front. Each step in this land, each challenge conquered, had further cemented his reputation as a leader who did not merely command but earned the loyalty of those who followed him.

Yet, despite the triumphs and accolades, Harsha's heart yearned for home. His mother's gentle embrace and the sound of her prayers at dawn were memories he cherished deeply. He missed the innocent laughter of his younger brother, Aryanendra, and the curious questions that always seemed to flow from his inquisitive mind. Mandore awaited, and with it, the warmth of family and the promise of a long-awaited reunion.

"Your Highness," a servant interrupted softly, bowing deeply, "the Naruka family has prepared a farewell dinner in your honor. They await your presence."

Harsha turned, offering a faint smile. "Thank you. Inform them I will join shortly."

As the servant departed, Harsha lingered for a moment longer, gazing at the distant horizon. The Guardian of the Realm had nearly completed his mission. With every bandit routed, every village freed, and every alliance forged, he had proven himself worthy of the title bestowed upon him by the people: Rājyarakṣak. And yet, as the sun dipped below the mountains, Harsha knew his greatest challenge awaited—not on the battlefield but in uniting a fractured land under one vision.

With a deep breath, he straightened his posture and stepped away from the balcony. The road to Mandore beckoned, and Harsha was ready to return home—not just as a prince but as a protector, a leader, and a son who had fulfilled his duty. 

The Plot in Mathura

The opulent hall of Mathura's royal palace gleamed under the light of silver chandeliers, casting intricate shadows on the polished marble floors. King Shuryasena leaned back on his throne, a sly smile playing on his lips as he regarded his son, Dharmaketu, standing confidently before him. The room was empty save for the two, the weight of their conspiracy cloaked in secrecy.

Shuryasena's voice was low but filled with anticipation. "So, tell me, Ugarsena , is everything in place? Crown Prince Harsha has proven himself to be a formidable force. This cannot be left to chance."

Ugarsena bowed slightly, his tone calm and assured. "Father, I have taken every precaution. My men are ready, and our plan is flawless."

"Explain," Shuryasena demanded, leaning forward.

Ugarsena nodded, his eyes gleaming with confidence. "I have recruited a force of one thousand men. They come from Mathura, Indraprastha, Aryavarta, and Agravana. Each has been paid in gold, ensuring their loyalty. They have trained rigorously for months under our trusted commander in a secluded village between Mathura and Matsya."

Shuryasena raised an eyebrow. "And these men—do they know who they serve?"

"No, Father," Ugrasena replied. "They have only interacted with our commander. To them, he is their sole authority. They believe they are fighting to secure the kingdom's borders from the crown's enemies. None suspect our involvement."

Shuryasena tapped his fingers on the armrest, a calculating glint in his eyes. "Good. Harsha's reputation has grown, but even the strongest leader can be undone by exhaustion and surprise. What of his current position?"

Ugrasena smirked. "The crown prince is leaving the Naruka family's territory and heading toward Jainagara. He has just 300 soldiers with him, and they are weary from eighteen months of constant campaigning. By the time he reaches the Deeg region, which close from Mathura, his men will be even more fatigued. That is where we will strike."

"The Deeg region?" Shuryasena asked, intrigued.

"Yes," Ugrasena affirmed, pointing to a map spread across a nearby table. "The Deeg region is critical. There is only one direct route from Naruka territory to Jainagara, and Harsha will undoubtedly take it to continue his journey to Mandore. Our commander will ambush him there. With 1,000 men against 300, the odds are heavily in our favor."

Shuryasena's lips curled into a satisfied grin. "And where will you be during this ambush?"

"I will remain hidden, as will you," Ugrasena replied firmly. "It is best to let the commander handle the assault. If something goes awry, we will not be implicated. But rest assured, Father, it will not fail. The crown prince and his men will be caught off guard, and their numbers will be no match for ours."

Shuryasena nodded, leaning back once more. "If this succeeds, we eliminate the most formidable threat to our ambitions. Harsha has grown too powerful, too respected. His continued survival poses a danger to us."

"It will succeed," Ugrasena said with conviction. "By the time the royal court hears of it, it will be too late. The Guardian of the Realm will fall, and Rajputana will be vulnerable."

Shuryasena's laughter echoed through the chamber, cold and calculating. "Excellent, my son. Let us see if this so-called Rājyarakṣak can protect himself from the shadows closing in around him."

As the two schemers shared a toast to their plan, the weight of their betrayal hung in the air—a storm gathering on the horizon, threatening to upend the peace Harsha had fought so hard to secure.

End of Chapter 

to be continued ....