Empire Ascension: The Rise of the Fated One-Chapter 170: Emperor’s Duty

Rewari Kingdom, Khera village, morning of 26th march 1557.

The sun cast a soft glow on the village as Emperor Hemu and General Shadi Khan, both in the guise of traveling merchants, made their way through the vibrant market of Khera.

Wrapped in simple shawls, with turbans on their head, they appeared as ordinary travellers. A small unit of disguised royal guards kept a vigilant watch from a distance.

As they approached the village, Hemu’s attention were drawn to a newly constructed canal , nourishing the crops. "A canal? This wasn’t here before," he murmured.

Shadi Khan, walking slightly behind as fellow traveller, nodded in agreement. "Seems there’s been development in these parts, Your Majesty."

The makeshift tents of traders and merchants clustered near the village borders caught their attention. Carts and carriages bustled about, and a group of police trainees practiced with crossbows nearby.

Further in, soldiers in blue uniforms with muskets in hand, were spotted patrolling few areas.

As they entered the bustling streets of the village, they got impressed by the organised layout.

"This village is growing rapidly," Hemu commented.

Clean drainage systems and public toilets dotted the corners, with caretakers charging small fees for their use. It resembled a town on the rise more than a humble village.

"Remarkable," Shadi Khan muttered, scanning the surroundings. "But why here? This place wasn’t even notable the last time we passed through."

As they made their way through the market, Hemu’s gaze shifted to the stalls brimming with goods, particularly those selling soap.. one of the village’s renowned products. Police guards patrolled, armed with repeating crossbows, while a few elite soldiers wearing armor and carrying lantern shields stood watch, overseeing the rangers.

At the village square, they paused in front of a large edict of laws, noticing a small crowd forming near a building. The sign above the building read "Farmer Relief Office." A guard stood at the door, waving the villagers away.

"Disperse! The prince hasn’t arrived yet!" the guard called out.

Hemu furrowed his brows and turned to Shadi Khan, puzzled by the gathering. They approached a villager holding a pot.

"You there," Hemu asked gently, "what is all this about?"

The farmer, an older man with sun-baked skin, smiled, holding his pot proudly. "I’ve brought buttermilk for the prince. It’s his favorite."

"Buttermilk? For a prince?" Shadi Khan sneered with disbelief before Hemu could respond. "A royal would never accept such a gift from a commoner, especially something... so lowly."

The farmer glanced at Shadi Khan, unimpressed. "You must not know Prince Aditya," he retorted. "He visits this office often to help us. He’s no corrupt noble like you might think."

Hemu’s eyes widened, the farmer’s words ringing in his ears. ’Prince Aditya?’

Shadi Khan, being skeptical, tried to test him out through intimidation. "You dare waste our time? You think we would believe a prince would accept a gift? And that.. a simple pot of buttermilk?"

The farmer stood his ground, unfazed. "He would, and he has. Unlike nobles who sit on high thrones, Prince Aditya doesn’t discriminate. He has done more for us than any emperor. My sons got hired in his company, and this pot is a small gesture of thanks. Now move, I also don’t have time for the likes of you."

As they walked through the vibrant village square, Emperor Hemu and Shadi Khan noticed a sense of vitality they hadn’t expected.

What was supposed to be a simple village seemed to be thriving beyond measure. Curious, they approached a merchant selling spices and other goods.

Hemu, disguising his regal tone, asked, "This place... it seems larger than a simple village. What is happening here?"

The merchant seemingly jovial, smiled warmly. "Ah, this village? It was nothing before. Everything you see- the market, the homes.. it’s all thanks to Prince Aditya. He rebuilt this place from the ground up after an unfortunate ambush. Turned it into a real hub."

Shadi Khan, skeptical, folded his arms. "Prince Aditya did all this?"

The merchant nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes! After that incident the village was destroyed, the prince didn’t just leave. He stayed, helped rebuild everything. People say this village is the first to hold a real election too. Fair and proper, like something you’d expect in a city, not a remote village!"

Hemu and Shadi Khan exchanged puzzling glances.

"An election, you say?" Hemu’s asked with curiosity.

The merchant leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Indeed, the sarpanch and police chief guard of this village are the prime examples. He’s built free houses, opened soap factory, and even arranged markets like this one. Some of us wish he’d never return to Delhi."

Hemu’s smile widened. His adopted son was leaving a greater mark than he expected.

Shadi Khan, equally pleased, commented, "The prince certainly seems to have gained the people’s favor."

But before they could say more, the merchant added, "Oh, and there’s a big ceremony in the fort city for crown prince’s coronation. People are gathering for free food and festivities.. that’s why the market is quieter than usual. You might want to head there if you want to see the real excitement."

Hemu and Shadi Khan both raised their eyebrows at the mention of the ceremony.

"A ceremony, you say?" Shadi Khan asked.

The merchant nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, dear traveller. A grand feast, open to all. The fort city is buzzing with it. You should go! Its not much far from here"

Hemu gave a knowing smile with curiosity piqued. "Perhaps we will. Thank you, merchant."

As they walked away, Shadi Khan quietly remarked, "Your Majesty, are we really going to announce our presence? We’ve learned enough; perhaps it’s better to return."

Hemu, wearing a thoughtful expression, replied, "No, Shadi. It is my duty to delve into the depths of what is unfolding here. Let’s see just how deep these roots of his truly go."

Pakistan sultanate, Lahore fort, afternoon of 26 march 1557

In the peaceful setting of royal quarters, Badshah Afzal knelt on a prayer rug, deeply engrossed in his namaz. The scent of burning incense filled the air, mingled with the whispers of his recitation.

Outside the room, the soft creaking of a door announced the entrance of Bairam Khan, holding a stack of papers in his hands. He stood silently, admiring the Badshah’s newfound devotion with a small smile, feeling content.

Bairam Khan, waited patiently until Afzal finished his prayer. As the Badshah rose from his knees and folded his prayer mat, his face hardened. Seeing Bairam Khan, he braced himself as whenever the Khan arrived unannounced, it rarely brought good news.

"Did something happen, Khan Baba?" Afzal asked with wariness.

Bairam Khan bowed slightly, "Yes, my Badshah. But can I not come to check on your health even when there is no crisis? You are the heart of this empire, after all."

Afzal’s lips curled into a sarcastic smile. "Certainly, when I am your prisoner. It’s only natural to check if the pet is in good condition or not."

The words stung Bairam Khan heart and he frowned, noticing his resentment. Despite all efforts, it seemed Afzal still harbored animosity. "I’ve only barred your movement for your safety, my Badshah," Bairam explained, his tone more defensive than before. "The region is unstable, and I fear an attack at any moment. I do this for the good of the empire."

Afzal sat on a plush cushion with unreadable face. After a moment, he inquired. "And what news have you brought this time?"

Bairam Khan’s expression grew serious. "We have received word from both the Persian Empire and the Bhargav Samrajya. Tensions are rising."

Afzal straightened with sharpening gaze.

"The Safavids have lodged a formal protest, upset with the unrest in our region. Non-Muslims have been attacked by rebellious factions, and their properties looted, which has disrupted trade. Their merchants have suffered heavy losses," Bairam Khan continued. "The Safavid Empire, which relies heavily on commerce, is expected to send a delegation soon to address this. The protests might impact our relations further."

Afzal frowned but motioned for him to continue.

"As for the Bhargav Samrajya," Bairam Khan added with a grim look, "our plans for revenge have failed. The proxies we sent... have been wiped out. So far we haven’t received much details."

Afzal’s expression darkened. "Does this mean our involvement has been uncovered?"

Bairam Khan shook his head. "No, my Badshah. We have plausible deniability. It wasn’t our main army, and we can easily attribute it to rebellious factions within the region. But the loss is still substantial."

The Badshah leaned back, considering the implications. "And what of our economy?" he asked in low voice.

Bairam Khan sighed. "The economy has been hit hard, especially with the disruption in trade. To stabilize it, I recommend we raise taxes."

Afzal scoffed. "You would bend a branch that is already at its breaking point? That will only lead to its snapping."

Bairam Khan pressed forward with his argument. "We need funds, my Badshah. If we raise the jizya on non-Muslims, it will appease the Muslim populace and fill the coffers."

The room fell silent as Afzal rose and walked toward the window. He stared out at the sprawling city beyond the fort, deep in thought. After several moments, he spoke. "In Islam, we vow to protect those who pay for their safety. Make sure those who pay jizya are treated fairly, with respect. Let them live in peace."

Bairam Khan smiled, pleased with the Badshah’s religious adherence, but his satisfaction quickly faded when Afzal added, "And those who cannot pay... should not be harassed. Instead, put them on a debt list and give them more time. This way, the people will see that the regime is merciful, that we care for them."

Bairam Khan frowned, about to argue that such leniency was impractical. But before he could voice his concerns, Afzal continued, "Send a diplomat to the Bhargav Samrajya. We need to understand how they were able to defeat our forces so thoroughly. Mend ties with them. If we can increase trade with their empire, it will benefit our economy."

Bairam Khan blinked in surprise at the suggestion. "You want to strengthen ties with them?"

Afzal nodded. "Yes. Trade is essential to the prosperity of our people. We need more than just force; we need opportunities. Learn from them, find out how they have grown so powerful. At the same time, raise a strong army loyal to the regime, even if it takes time.. punish the troublemakers and restore peace. The people must see that we are capable of protecting them. Only then will they support us."

A wave of relief washed over Bairam Khan. The Badshah’s youth and earlier sarcasm had worried him, but his words now showed wisdom and a keen understanding of leadership. Perhaps the boy he had once tutored was growing into a ruler after all.

"As you wish, my Badshah," Bairam Khan said, bowing deeply. "I will see to it."

Afzal gave a final nod, and as Bairam Khan left the room, he couldn’t help but feel satisfied with the way the young emperor is handling his duty. But there was still much to be done.