Empire Ascension: The Rise of the Fated One-Chapter 219: Battle of Kashmir Part -2

Kashmir border, captured fort in Kohala Valley, morning of April 22, 1557

In the small, sunlit room of the wooden chamber, Faujdar Phula Singh sat upright on a plush cushion.

His body was wrapped in bandages, and his left arm was gone, yet his posture remained straight which showed no indication of weakness.

Sunlight poured into the room where he and the seven sardars gathered around, wearing their chainmail armors. Of the original ten, only these seven had survived to stand with their commander.

News had just arrived that enemy scouts had been spotted below. With reinforcements yet to arrive before evening they faced a significant challenge to hold off the ladakhi forces that threatened their newly captured fort.

Finally, Phula Singh broke the silence.

"Sardar Bhola," he commanded, "report on our current situation."

Bhola offered a quick nod before speaking. "Sir, we have 700 soldiers fit to defend the outpost, though another 320 remain wounded and are being treated by the medics. We’ve positioned 30 falconet cannons to cover the enemy’s line of approach.

From the prisoners captured, we’ve learned that the approaching force is likely under Commander Ranchit Bagga who is leading a force of 3,000 soldiers and additional 50 cannons who were expected to arrive today’s morning as reinforcement."

Phula Singh listened with an unreadable expression as he absorbed the news. He muttered under his breath, "So they have already arrived and are gauging our strength. Luckily, their cannons aren’t a threat, but the numbers..."

He turned to Sardar Pratyush, newly appointed by Rudra to oversee logistics and the siege crews provided by the Hindshakti Company.

"And what’s the status of our artillery?" he asked in steady voice but edged with urgency.

Pratyush replied promptly, "Sir, we have 10 Pinakas(hwachas) and 20 rocket artillery units ready, along with 50 grapeshot shells."

Phula Singh glanced around the room, sensing his sardars’ hesitation. Grapeshot was new to them; they knew the power of rockets and hwachas, but this unfamiliar and untested ammunition left a lingering doubt.

He addressed it directly.

"I know some of you are uncertain about these grapeshots," he said, his tone firm. "But from what I hear, they’ll scatter like a hailstorm, tearing through anything that approaches. Today, we’ll see just how effective they are."

Sardar Bhola chimed in, "Our men have been briefed on loading and firing them, Commander. We’re as prepared as we can be."

Pratyush added, "We’ve positioned the falconets strategically. But as for the rockets and Pinakas, where do you want them, sir?"

Phula Singh paused, considering. "We’ll place the rockets to cover the central approach; on the walls. the hwachas will go on the higher ground, facing the slopes where they’ll have a clear line of sight. Once the enemy’s within range, we’ll let loose."

Sardar Ajit, one of the senior sardars, nodded, a glint of determination in his eyes. "And when their cannons come into range?"

Phula Singh met his gaze. "We strike hard and fast with what we have. Make every shot count. We don’t know how long we’ll hold until our reinforcements arrive, but we’ll give their commander a battle he won’t forget."

The room filled with murmurs of agreement. Sardar Pratyush joined in with excitement. "If it’s the last battle we fight, Commander, it’ll be one they’ll sing about."

Phula Singh allowed himself a faint smile. "Then let’s make sure they have a worthy song to sing."

As they finished their planning, a scout entered, breathless. "Commander, enemy cannons have been spotted moving into position!"

Phula Singh rose, his voice like steel. "To your positions, sardars. Go and greet the guests."

With quick nods, the sardars filed out, rallying the soldiers and positioning the artillery as planned. But Phula Singh stopped Pratyush midway.

"Sardar Pratyush," he commanded, "help me don my armor."

Pratyush obliged, fastening each piece carefully. He had a sense of pride for his commander, who, despite being heavily wounded, didn’t back down; just his presence was enough to strengthen his resolve to fight to the death if the need arose.

But the next words from Phula Singh sent a chill through him.

Phula Singh sighed as his gaze hardened. "As much as I want to believe in His Highness’s new weapons, it’s hard to trust that we can stop such a large force with our limited ammunition alone. In the worst-case scenario, I want you to prepare to blow this fort."

Looking around he remarked, "This structure though entirely made of wood but still has resilience and cover if our reinforcements were to face it again." He managed a faint smile. "I trust you won’t let our brothers’ sacrifices be in vain."

Pratyush nodded with a heavy heart, but it steeled his resolve, and he went out to carry out his duty

The hilltop fort buzzed with the urgency of preparation as they braced for the impending clash, knowing they’d soon face the thunderous might of the advancing Ladakhi army.

Few moments later,

The rumble of wheels and footsteps of ladakhi soldiers echoed across the landscape.

Fifty cannons were slowly pulled toward the hill’s base. Their crews shouted commands amidst the clattering of wood and metal. Their polished barrels glistening in sunrays giving a chilling reminder of their devastating fire power.

Phula Singh stood atop the fort’s walls, balancing himself with his remaining hand. He surveyed the advancing artillery through narrowed eyes. He could feel the tension in the air, heavy with anticipation.

Beside him, Sardar Bhola stood vigilant to pass on his commands.

"Commander," Bhola called in urgency, "they’re nearing the range. Should we fire now?"

Phula Singh paused, contemplating the wholesome situation. "No, let them come closer. We’ll hold our fire until they’re within 800 meters. I want them to underestimate our range."

The crew of the 30 cannons readied themselves. Their fingers twitching to lit the fuse as they awaited the command. The Ladakhi cannons pushed forward, inching closer under the watchful gaze of the defenders.

As the distance closed to 700 meters, Phula Singh ordered . "Now! Fire!" and soon bhola passed on the command.

’Boom!’

The fort erupted in a thunderous roar as the cannons fired with their mouths emitting smoke and fire.

Iron balls hurtled through the air like angry ghosts with whizzing sounds, crashing into the ranks of the Ladakhi artillery.

The ground shook violently as explosions ripped through the scene, tearing apart the wooden frames of the cannons and scattering debris in all directions.

Unlucky crew members were caught in the maelstrom, their bodies torn apart by the heavy iron projectiles.

Screams filled the air, drowned out by the deafening blasts. The shockwaves swept across the battlefield, toppling soldiers to the ground, leaving them gasping for breath in the dust and chaos.

"Fall back! Save what you can!" Ranchit Bagga, their commander shouted his lungs out from rear.

Panic swept through the ranks as men scrambled to salvage their remaining cannons, knowing they had underestimated the defenders’ might. Fortunately for them somehow they still saved 20 cannons as the Bhargavians atop stopped the bombardment.

Ranjit Bagga briefed his subordinates on the damage sustained and swiftly devised the next plan. The Ladakhi soldiers were to spread out in a semi-circular formation.

They switched to shields and swords, preparing to send their forces in waves. Soon, they scattered across the vast area, forming an arc and bringing forward palisades to absorb the assault.

The cannons roared once more, obliterating the palisade walls and the shields along with the soldiers that followed. However, the damage inflicted on the combined force was less severe than anticipated.

Commander Phula Singh narrowed his eyes, observing the enemy’s spread-out tactics. It seemed to be working against them. Turning to Bhola, he ordered, "Prepare to release the Pinaka."

Bhola hesitated, then suggested, "Sir, we could use the rockets instead. They’re ready and might cause more chaos."

Phula Singh shook his head firmly. "Rockets are effective against clustered armies, not when they’re spread out like this. We’ll use two Piñakas in waves of five. Target their formations."

Bhola nodded, acknowledging the command. He passed on the command to Pratyush who relayed the orders to the artillery crew, and the first wave of Piñaka was released.

With the hushing roar, the hwachas unleashed its barrage. Two hundred arrows tore through the sky, descending upon the Ladakhi soldiers like divine punishment. The sheer force of the Piñaka’s impact sent shockwaves through their ranks.

"Oh mighty Buddha! Have mercy!"

"Spare me! I can’t take this!"

"Fall back! Fall back!"

Many soldiers were flabbergasted, stumbling as the arrows rained down, impaling their guts out despite their shields and protection. Gripped by fear, they eventually fell back.

Commander Ranjit Bagga, witnessing the chaos, rallied his men with a commanding presence. "Do not fear the limited ammunition!" he shouted, his voice slicing through the panic.

"Heed my call, great warriors of the mountains! Remember whose blood runs in your veins! Don’t sully the name of your ancestors! These feeble weapons cannot not stop us! Turn back now in the name of your king, and show those bastards the price they need to pay, for daring to set foot in our lands! For the king!"

"For the king!" the Ladakhi soldiers recited in unison.

Their commander’s words brought fire in their spirits as they steadied themselves. They discarded their shields, drawing their blades or glaives out, and surged forward toward the enemy fort in waves with their warcry.

Despite the relentless onslaught of arrows, they pressed on. The hwacha continued to unleash its deadly rain, claiming the lives of many brave warriors, yet the determination of the Ladakhis did not waver.

Commander Phula Singh closed his eyes in resignation. He had expected the enemy to slow down, but these determined monkeys hopped through the barrage of death.

They were relentless in their advance, undeterred, even by their deadly ammunition no matter how dwindling.

As the enemy neared within 400 meters, Phula Singh’s voice rang out again. "Unleash the grapeshot!"

Bhola swiftly passed on the orders, knowing that the next phase of their defense is going to be crucial. Unbeknownst to him, this battle is going to make a name in history for the first of its kind.

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//A/N:

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