Empire Ascension: The Rise of the Fated One-Chapter 210: Northern Imperial Corps

Punjab kingdom, in the outposts of Shivallik hills, afternoon of 19th April 1557.

As the morning sun bathed the rugged peaks of the Shivalik Hills in golden hues, the imperial outpost emerged as a bastion of strength for the Bhargav Samrajya. Originally established by the Mughals during the reign of its founding member, this outpost had transformed into a critical stronghold for the imperial corps, poised for an expedition into Kashmir.

The heart of the outpost was a small, fort-like structure built from sturdy stone walls, remnants of a bygone era under previous Islamic rulers. Now, it stood proudly adorned with the saffron flags of the Bhargav Samrajya, symbolizing Hemu’s dominance. Strategically positioned at the intersection of the routes to Lahore, Kashmir, and Delhi, this outpost was vital to the Punjab Kingdom.

An entourage of 5,000 soldiers, led by Commander Rudra, gleamed in their chain mail armor as they approached the outpost, the royal flag of Bhargav fluttering in the breeze. The guards saluted, allowing the army to pass through the wide iron gate that spanned a small bridge over a moat encircling the fortified territory.

This outpost had expanded beyond the original fort, serving as a temporary base for the Northern Imperial Corps. Here, soldiers trained and prepared before being deployed to defend the northern sector, while the small fort functioned as the command center. It was a post where 10,000 soldiers from Delhi and Punjab comprised the Northern Imperial Corps.

As Rudra made his way toward the command fort, he passed the training grounds, where soldiers executed drills with swords and spears, their movements synchronized like a well-rehearsed dance. Flanked by his subordinates, who carried the flag of the royal capital, he navigated through the throngs of imperial soldiers, receiving nods of respect as he passed, like a gentle breeze flowing through the ranks. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Reaching the front door of the fort lord’s chamber, Rudra paused for a moment before the door swung open. All military officials rose in unison, standing at attention to greet him. Inside, Zorawar Singh, the former commander and now fort lord, awaited him, already briefed on Rudra’s arrival.

Zorawar Singh, clad in chain mail armor, greeted Rudra with a broad smile. "It’s an honor to meet you, General Rudra Singh Chauhan. I can hardly believe you’ve made it to general! May I see the token of your insignia?"

Rudra nodded to one of his subordinates, who stepped forward to present the imperial token of authorization. A grin spread across Zorawar’s face as he accepted it.

As Zorawar handed over the seal of the fort, he saluted with a clenched fist to his heart. "For the Samrajya."

"For the Samrajya." Rudra reciprocated the same before taking the seal, which represented his lordship over the fort, and then continued warmly, "The pleasure is mine, old friend." He added with a playful grin, "My promotion is a reflection of my loyalty and expertise, unlike someone who’s favored by luck to remain a subedar all this time!"

Laughter erupted between them as they welcomed each other after their long separation. They had first met during Hemu’s conquest of Delhi; however, their paths diverged as military needs took them in different directions.

Turning to his subordinates, Zorawar introduced them. "Allow me to present Faujdar Phula Singh and Sidharth Prajapati. They have accompanied me in this endeavor and will be instrumental in the war to come."

Rudra greeted them in kind. "And here are my trusted comrades, Faujdar Amrendar Singh and Harish Pal. We’ve fought side by side in many conquests."

As the military officials exchanged greetings and familiarized themselves with one another, Zorawar suggested, "Let Faujdar Phula Singh help you acclimate to the fort while I finalize our plans."

But Rudra interjected firmly, "No need, Subedar. We’re well acquainted with the fort from our way here. I’m not in the mood to relax. Better you focus on the arrangements you’ve prepared. Amrendar can assist if you feel short-handed."

With a crisp salute, Zorawar responded, "Then I won’t shy away from your favor." He then took his leave along with the other officials, leaving only Faujdar Harish Pal and Rudra in the room.

Settling into his new seat as city lord, Rudra turned to Harish and asked, "Did you notice anything unusual?"

The atmosphere grew tense as Harish replied, "The faujars didn’t seem pleased with our arrival, General. It’s as if they harbor some discontent."

Rudra chuckled, acknowledging the keen observation of his subordinate. "You’re not wrong, Harish. We’ll need to address that before it festers."

An hour later, in the fort lord chamber

A long map of Kashmir and its border with Ladakh sprawled across the table, surrounded by the faujars present while Subedar Zorawar explained the strategic passes. A few civilians were also in attendance, key figures who played significant roles in the expedition.

Zorawar gestured to the map. "This used to be our main route to Kashmir: the Banihal Pass. It has many narrow passages, ideal for ambushes from elevated heights. If we attempt to force our way through, we might replicate the tragic massacre of Kashmiri soldiers that occurred a few months ago." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle before continuing. "Therefore, we have an alternative route: the Haji Pir Pass in Poonch. It lies to the northwest of Banihal, and according to intelligence gathered from locals, this route is less challenging, though we still face the risk of encountering enemies from advantageous positions. Once we successfully cross over, we have thoroughly prepared our logistics and roadmap for our conquest from Poonch to the Srinagar fort."

Rudra turned to the civilians, who stood with their gazes cast downward, and inquired of Zorawar, "Are they the sources or guides who discovered this alternate route?"

Zorawar nodded. "Yes, General. Allow me to introduce them." He gestured to a man standing off to the side. "This is Abdullah Khan, a shepherd who sought refuge here. He has extensive knowledge of the internal routes and connections." The shepherd bowed, visibly hesitant to meet their eyes.

Zorawar continued, "This is Abhinav Bhat, the translator. He was originally a trader present in Punjab when Kashmir fell. He has worked with the administration before and knows much of the local language and internal routes." Abhinav bowed with respect, though felt a bit nervous.

Lastly, Zorawar pointed to a young man in his early twenties. "This is Shravan Sahni, a local resident of Poonch who lost his parents when Ladakhi forces plundered his hometown. Despite his age, he possesses considerable knowledge of the Himalayan terrain and will be our main guide."

Rudra scrutinized Shravan, feeling a sense of suspicion. The young man’s calm demeanor struck him as odd, especially given his presence in front of the military of higher rank.

"Shravan," Rudra called, pointing him out. "Step forward."

At being singled out, Shravan frowned, further arousing Rudra’s suspicion. He approached cautiously, careful not to misinterpret the situation. "Do you know this route?" Rudra asked.

Abhinav quickly translated the question into Kashmiri, and Shravan nodded in response.

Rudra continued, "How many years have you lived in Poonch? Are you sure of this route?"

"I was born there, hazur, as a Kashmiri Pandit. I used to be a travel guide and know every route from Poonch to Srinagar with clarity," Shravan replied, his voice steady.

Rudra nodded after receiving the translation. "Is that so? Perhaps you can tell me the legend of how Kashmir got its name ?"

Shravan looked puzzled, but Zorawar interjected, "General, with all due respect, I believe questions should focus on the practical matters at hand. Not all of us are well-versed in Kashmir’s history, especially those who toil daily for survival. I’m not sure what you’re trying to point out, sir."

Rudra sighed, acknowledging Zorawar’s point. "You’re right. I was just curious." He turned to Shravan, his expression softening. "I feel for your loss; it must be hard to bury your parents. Tell me, Shravan, do you know of any Ladakhi nobles responsible for the plunder? I assure you, we will bring them to justice for what you’ve endured."

Emotion welled up in Shravan’s eyes, threatening to spill over. "Hazur, we know nothing of who was responsible. We are simple people, striving to earn our daily bread. But I hate all Ladakhis to the core for sending my parents to their graves. They must be punished. Please, kill them a thousand times, Hazur, and I will do whatever it takes, even sacrifice myself if needed." His voice broke, and the atmosphere grew heavy with sorrow.

Rudra nodded empathetically, rising to his feet. "But I don’t understand. Since when did Kashmiri Pandits stop cremating their dead? Are you truly a Hindu Pandit?"

The atmosphere turned tense as everyone stood up, casting suspicious glances at Shravan.

Caught off guard, Shravan realized that, as a Ladakhi spy, he had been exposed. He knew that his people practiced sky burial, not cremation, and he had never anticipated being discovered in such a way. In a desperate bid, he lunged toward the window, hoping to escape before anyone could react. But Rudra was quicker; he reached for his knife and threw it with pinpoint accuracy, striking Shravan in the leg.

Shravan crashed against the wall, and seeing no other option, he pulled a pouch of poison powder from his belongings and ingested it. The events unfolded so rapidly that it was hard for anyone to comprehend what had just happened.

Faujdar Harish rushed to check Shravan’s pulse. As foam began to form at his mouth, he declared, "He’s dead."

Rudra sighed, his expression grave. "He was not a Kashmiri Pandit. I don’t care whether he was a Muslim or a Buddhist, but had he been a true Kashmiri Pandit, he would have known the legend that Kashmir was named after Sage Kashyap, who dried up the waters and made the valley habitable."

He sat down, his expression serious as he declared, "Subedar, you should have cross-checked thoroughly. You almost led us into a trap guided by an enemy spy. It’s no surprise the crown decided to change the leadership."

Zorawar felt a wave of shame wash over him. "Forgive me, General, for my short-sightedness."

Faujdar Phoola shifted uncomfortably, his embarrassment palpable as he spoke up. "Forgive us, General. We are all responsible; it was I who brought him into the plan."

Faujdar Siddharth chimed in, "And it was also my fault for not questioning him more when he was presented to us."

Rudra nodded, sensing their remorse. "What’s done is done. We must now focus on finding the pass. Our priority is to investigate the rivers."

"Rivers?" Zorawar replied, puzzled. "But they flew through hard terrains, and so far, none within our borders seem to lead to such a pass."

Rudra’s tone grew firm as he thumped his fist on the table. "There must be one somewhere. If not, we’ll have to dig a tunnel or prepare to scale mountains, rather than walking into a death trap."