Empire Ascension: The Rise of the Fated One-Chapter 217: Hidden pass of kashmir

Punjab border near Jhelum, Kohala Valley, morning of 21st April 1557

The Jhelum River, which originates at Verinag Spring, is one of the major rivers for the Punjab region, often linking to Kashmir. However, due to the treacherous terrain, it was hard to follow its origin which was set in foot of Pir Panjal ranges.

After the Supreme Commander of the Northern Imperial Corps passed the order to track the rivers for hidden passes, this river also came under scrutiny, and finally after two days, they found a suitable place to cross into Kashmir. It was the Kohala pass, from where they could infiltrate the rear of Muzaffarabad.

Had these wars not occurred, this area might have remained hidden until the British eventually built a bridge 300 years later. But now, unaware and unaffected by future events, General Rudra sent 3,000 of his forces to capture this valley, where crossing the river was possible due to its shallow waters.

Faujdar Phula Singh, now commander of the 3,000-man division, finally reached the riverbank after crossing the forest terrain. They set up camp in the forest and gathered near a clearing, lighting a campfire.

The front row was occupied by ten sardars (captains) who formed a circle around Phula Singh, the head of the forces. The rest of the soldiers sat in a similar clearing, spread around the tents.

The atmosphere was heavy with the chill of the morning. Everyone was wrapped in shawls, their breath rising in smoke as they sipped warm stew from bowls to keep themselves warm.

Phula Singh, clad in chain mail armor and wrapped in a shawl, inquired, taking a sip, "So, what is the report from the scouts, Sardar Bhola?"

Bhola, dressed in similar attire and warming his hands by the fire, retracted his hands into his shawl after being called upon and replied, "Commander, the crossing is heavily guarded by the Ladakhi soldiers. It seems they knew we would be coming."

Phula Singh nodded and asked, "Alright, brief the others on what the scouts have confirmed."

Bhola looked at the others and continued, "They have barricaded the crossing with palisade walls, anticipating our discovery. They have Chinese cannons at their side, whose range is unconfirmed, and unkown handguns in their ranks. Their rangers are stationed in newly constructed outposts, with at least three men atop each, since the area offers no cover. Furthermore, they have constructed a small wooden fort in the middle of the crossing, with around 500 soldiers stationed in the river. However, their total strength remains unknown, as the main force can stay hidden."

Phula Singh took another sip, finishing his stew. He set the bowl down and picked up a twig, drawing lines in the soil to capture everyone’s attention. He passed the twig to Bhola Singh and said, "Mark the locations based on that: circle for the outpost and a cross for the fort."

Sitting beside him, Bhola took the twig and marked the soil while others gazed upon it. Phula Singh stretched out his hand for the twig, which Bhola returned. Then Phula Singh addressed others.

"We are here on this side of the river . Thanks to the forest cover, we are undetected but after 400 meters its open area downslope. When we cross the river, we will reach the foot of this small hill. The entire river bank area is open field much like this side, with no place to hide. Under their rain of arrows and bombardment, we must rush the hill and take the fort at the top which is roughly 700-800 meters apart from the river. According to the guide, if we succeed, the plains leading to Muzaffarabad lie below. " he remarked," Its just one damn hill."

Everyone studied the map to memorize the positions. Phula Singh then asked, "Before I outline my plan for the attack, I want to know your thoughts on the scale of our assault."

A number of suggestions poured in from the sardars.

"We can attack at night."

"We can blow their position with cannons."

"We can send groups to spread out and lay siege to the outpost before taking it over."

"We could send a messenger to demand their surrender, intimidating them into submission."

"We can disguise some soldiers as lost villagers to infiltrate their ranks."

Phula Singh shook his head, warming his hands. He replied, "No, the temperature is already too cold in the morning, and it will be even harder at night with no visibility. They can simply fire at us, and we won’t be able to coordinate effectively in the darkness. The fort is still under construction, so making them aware of our presence or taking too much time to cross will do no good. We will launch a sudden attack."

He marked the lines again, saying, "The water is shallow, but we won’t risk it; we will use rafts instead to cross. The squad leaders will lead ten-man groups with shields, while the rest will spread out.

Cannons will remain on standby under forest cover until we confirm their fire range. This mission is difficult, but we cannot afford to fail, or they will fortify their position further. Are we all on the same page?"

Every sardar nodded in affirmation as Phula Singh’s gaze swept over their faces. He stood up and commanded, "Prepare the ranks; we will launch when the sun reaches its peak." He concluded the meeting with a resolute statement, "Heed my call..no matter if we remain dead or alive, as long as a single soldier survives the victory has to be ours."

"For the samrajya." He saluted, clenching his fist to his heart.

"For the samrajya, Commander," the others echoed as their spirits got boosted.

As everyone left to make their preparations, Phula Singh resolved to rid himself of the guilt that lingered from being misled by the Ladakhi spy. He gazed at the shimmering river in the distance, feeling the weight of his failure in front of his seniors and comrades. With personal stakes involved, defeat was not an option.

It was only few time distant before the peaceful area would erupt into chaos.

few hours later in the afternoon, near the river

The cannons were positioned at the edge of the forest, their shiny metallic barrels glistening in the sunlight as the gunners stood on standby, ready for action. Bhargavian forces surged forward through the gaps between the cannons, carrying shields and rafts, prepared for the impending battle.

Squad leader Ashwin, tasked with leading his ten-man squad, took position near the front. His heart pounded in his chest, but his orders remained clear.

"All units, stay close and protect Kunal and Javed. They will row the raft," Ashwin commanded.

"Yes, Sarkar!" his men echoed, determination clear in their voices.

As they moved, the first sign of the enemy revealed itself. From the opposite riverbank, Ladakhi soldiers, alerted by the commotion, loosed their arrows in a deadly volley.

"Shield wall!" the first wave of soldiers shouted, raising their shields in tight formation.

Arrows rained down like death from above, striking shields and finding gaps. Screams of pain echoed through the air as unlucky soldiers fell, their bodies hitting the muddy riverbank with sickening thuds. The advance did not halt. Bhargavian soldiers pushed on, determined to reach the river despite the chaos. Some walked into the shallow waters, others swam through the crimson-stained currents as more fell to arrow fire.

Five hundred more Ladakhi archers joined the fray making it total thousand, descending down the hill overlooking the riverbank. The deadly arrow shower intensified. Even as their numbers dwindled, the Bhargavians continued to press forward.

Ashwin led his men toward the river’s edge. His heart sank at the sight of the battlefield, littered with the bodies of fallen comrades. Just as they were about to launch their raft, a nearby squad was struck by a cannonball, the shockwave sending bodies flying through the air. The men screamed as they got hit by arrows, and the survivors plunged into the river with swords in hand, desperate to get in cover of river.

The scene was grim. Hand cannoneers among the Ladakhis too had descended the hill for better aim, targeting tightly grouped soldiers. Ashwin stood froze as he witnessed another unit in raft just ahead get obliterated by a well-aimed shot, scattering soldiers into the water. The squad ahead was caught in the aftermath which scrambled to stay afloat as arrows zipped by and cannon blasts splashed the water surface.

"Put the raft in the water and protect the rowers!" Ashwin bellowed, snapping back to focus.

The raft was hastily lowered, and the soldiers climbed aboard as Kunal and Javed began rowing. Shields raised, they moved slowly across the river, but the fear was palpable. The icy water splashed onto them, causing shivers to run down their spines. Ashwin, in his chain mail, felt the weight of the cold pressing against his body, his breath turning ragged.

Suddenly, two arrows struck the front line, sending his men tumbling off the raft. The sudden loss of balance caused panic, and Ashwin’s heart raced as he spotted a Ladakhi hand cannoneer taking aim at them.

He snatched the rower and tried to stir away but the cannon fired, splashing just beside the raft, throwing them all into the freezing water.

Ashwin gasped as the cold water hit him like a shockwave. His limbs felt heavy, his senses numbed. But his feet touched the riverbed, and he staggered to his feet, dragging himself toward the opposite bank.

He collapsed onto the cold mud, gasping for air. The sounds of war filled his ears with shouts, screams, the terrifying booms of cannons, and the crack of arrows.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Ashwin glanced around as he held the palisade log dug as deterrent to glance around.

The riverbank was a graveyard. He could see the dead, their bodies riddled with arrows and crushed by cannon fire. But there was no time to mourn. He forced himself to his feet, grabbing a sword from a nearby fallen soldier, and steeled his resolve.

Ashwin pushed forward, sword in hand, though his body screamed in pain. An arrow pierced his thigh, causing him to stumble, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving. "Cannot stop... must win, must push forward..." he muttered through the pain, dragging his injured leg, refusing to fall.

Suddenly, an enemy cannon fired from hilltop. Ashwin saw the ball land a few meters ahead, the shockwave throwing him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, rolling down the embankment. Groaning, he looked up and saw a group of Ladakhi archers just 100 meters ahead, launching arrows at the Bhargavians. His eyes fell on a hand cannoneer among them lighting the fuse, aiming directly at him. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

In that moment, Ashwin thought it was over.

He braced himself for the inevitable, but before the cannon could fire, a deafening boom roared from behind him.

The Ladakhi line exploded in chaos. The Bhargavian cannons had finally came out of forest and blasted the Ladakhi positions. The enemy archers and hand cannoneers were blown apart, and those who survived fled higher up the hill in panic.

Ashwin’s heart leaped as he saw the Ladakhis retreat. The Bhargavian forces, spurred by the sight, let out their battle cry.

Morale soared, and the tide of battle shifted. The once-dominant Ladakhi positions were crumbling under the Bhargavian cannon fire. Even the outposts that came near the range were being blasted apart. However, the fort and few of the outposts atop weren’t touched perhaps of the range and altitude.

Gritting his teeth, Ashwin grabbed the sword once more. His body ached, his leg bled, but his mind was clear: revenge for his fallen comrades and victory for the Samrajya.

He dragged himself forward, determined to finish the fight because he knew that the battle was far from over.