Chitradurga Fort, Vijayanagar Empire, a few days back on 15th March 1557
The midday sun blazed fiercely over Chitradurga Fort, casting a relentless heat over the sprawling landscape of deep forestation.
A lone rider, clad in dusty leather armour, cut through the shadowy path leading to open fields. His leather pouch wrapped around his waist contained crucial ssage which flapped over each beat of horse hooves.
Sweat-soaked dhoti clung to his legs as he guided his horse along the rough, sun-baked path toward the fort.
As the rider neared the towering fortifications of Chitradurga, he reined in his horse with skilled expertise. The imnse stone walls, fluttering with the banners of the Vijayanagara Empire, lood imposingly against the bright, cloudless sky.
He produced a dallion from around his neck, holding it aloft for the gatekeepers. The dallion, bearing the empire’s insignia, glead with an authoritative shimr, signifying the urgency of his mission.
The gatekeepers, clad in chain mail and leg guards, examined the dallion closely before nodding in acknowledgnt. With a practiced motion, they swung open the heavy gates, revealing the bustling inner courtyard of the fort.
The rider spurred his horse forward as he entered the heart of Chitradurga.
Inside the fort the courtyard thrived with activity. The sounds of clanging tal and rhythmic thuds echoed from the practice fields, where soldiers honed their skills with disciplined sword drills.
Their blades sliced through the air with precision, while cavalry formations executed intricate maneuvers. The heat seed to challenge their movents, which spoke of long hours of practice and coordination.
He crossed fields where soldiers relaxed, their armor set aside as they chatted or attended to their horses.
Upon reaching the stables, he dismounted swiftly, leading his horse through the rows of tethered steed. Without pausing, he sprinted through the stable’s exit and continued through the narrow corridors, guarded at regular intervals.
His breathing ca in sharp bursts as he made his way through the fort, the weight of the dallion in his hand gave him a smooth passage. The guards stood firm but their eyes followed his hastened movents.
**********
Inside the Chamber of Somreshwar Dandanayak
Soshwar Dandanayak, the recently installed patriarch of Chitradurga, was deep in contemplation over a detailed map spread across his desk. This man was in his forties but retained the muscular build. He had succeeded his father in recent years and now faced the monuntal task of upholding his family’s legacy within the Vijayanagara Empire.
The midday sun filtered through high windows, casting a warm glow on his finely crafted uniform. He wore a richly adorned turban with a gold band and a finely engraved cuirass of layered tal plates for armour.
Muralidhar Reddy and Ramakanth Nayakudu, seasoned warriors who had served under Soshwar’s father, stood nearby. Muralidhar, dressed in chainmail and a reinforced leather vest, and Ramakanth, in a similar combination with ceremonial touches, leaned over the map with curiosity.
Across from them stood Dewa Wayan, a civilian in kurta and dhoti, his nervousness evident in his face. A fisherman from Bali, Indonesia, Dewa had been forcibly conscripted into the Dutch navy and had travelled from Bali to India under duress. His injuries from a Maratha raid and subsequent capture had placed him in dire straits.
Soshwar leaned closer to the map, his furrowed brow reflecting his concentration. "So this is how the east looks," he mused aloud. His finger traced the coastline, finally resting on a marked area. "And where is your holand?"
Dewa, his face etched with anxiety, replied, "It’z Bali, lord."
Soshwar nodded thoughtfully, turning to his commander, Muralidhar. "Doesn’t this location resemble Yavadwipa?"
Muralidhar, keenly aware of historical geography, confird, "Indeed, my lord. There’s also a legend about our ancestor, the Chola king, who ruled these lands with.."
Soshwar cut him off abruptly. "No need for a history lesson. Those are things of the past; we need to focus on the present."
He turned his attention back to Dewa. "So, these mlecchas (Dutch people) have taken control of your region and forced many of your people into their service?"
Dewa’s confusion was apparent as he stamred, "Ye..Yess, lord?"
Soshwar glanced at Muralidhar and instructed, "His Telugu is improving, but it’s not yet fluent. Ensure he becos proficient in our language and prioritize his security. We need to uncover the root of this problem and address it at its source."
Just then, a loud announcent signaled the arrival of an urgent ssage. Soshwar signalled for the ssenger to enter.
The ssenger stepped forward, presenting the missive. "Maratha field commander Gangadhar Rao has sent this ssage with imdiate urgency, my lord."
Soshwar took the missive, breaking the seal and unfurling the scroll. As he read its contents, his expression shifted to one of shock. He dismissed the ssenger and instructed him to wait outside.
Turning back to his commanders, he revealed, "An outpost is being constructed in Shimoga Fort, and a massive supply of ammunition is scheduled to arrive in three days. Our sources estimate it around 200-300 escorts." His gaze hardened as he continued, "If they complete this outpost, our future raids will be done for."
The room fell silent as tension mounted. Ramakanth broke the quiet, suggesting, "Why not use the Maratha Guerrillas already stationed there? They’ve conducted nurous successful raids before. They could handle this one as well."
Soshwar shook his head. "No, they are best hidden in groups. If they gather, they can be exposed and might get wiped out. We need to send our own n to oversee the operation, but how can we manage this in just three days?"
Ramakanth offered a solution. "My lord, my cousin Muddappa Nayakudu is stationed at the Channagiri outpost. It would be best to send him with his unit while we dispatch reinforcents to take over his post. The Marathas can assist in their crossing and conceal their movents. It shouldn’t take them more than a quarter of a day."
Soshwar pondered this, then took a scroll, inscribed its contents, sealed it, and rolled it up. He handed it to a guard. "Send this to Gangadhar via pigeon post."
The guard accepted the scroll and hurried out of the chamber.
Turning to Ramakanth, Soshwar commanded, "You take 100 of our finest n and proceed to the outpost imdiately. Present this token as my representative to assu command. Muddappa Nayakudu might already be on his way by the ti you arrive."
Ramakanth looked puzzled. "My lord?"
Soshwar clarified, "I trust the Marathas. 50 is all they need as extra. Still, I am sending you with 100 to ensure the outpost is secured."
Ramakanth bowed respectfully and exited the room.
Soshwar faced Dewa. "Dewa, I understand your fear, but have faith in us. We will help you return to your holand, but we need your cooperation. Do you understand?"
Dewa nodded, though his apprehension was clear in his eyes.
After receiving Soshwar’s nod of approval, Commander Muralidhar guided Dewa out of the room.
Soshwar returned to the map, his finger tracing the route from Bali to South India and then to the Dutch-occupied Indian territory . Frustrated, he slamd his fist on the table. "Mlecchas (dutch) one day, we will..."
Sa night at the banks of Tungbhadra river
The riverbank was quiet except for the rustling of the wind and the occasional chirp of crickets. A camp of thirty Dutch soldiers, their tents set up in a neat row, lay near the river. Sentries patrolled the periter, their eyes scanning the darkening surroundings. They were unaware of the threat lurking in the shadows.
Suddenly, the night was pierced by the sound of faint whistling. Poison-tipped darts, fired from blowpipes, flew silently through the air. Each dart found its mark, striking the sentries. The soldiers fell with muffled cries as the poison took effect. Their faces contorted in disbelief as their bodies hit the ground with thud.
From the darkness, twenty Maratha warriors erged. They moved swiftly with silent steps on the ground. They approached the unsuspecting tents and skillfully set the thatched coverings ablaze.
The flas spread quickly, illuminating the night with a fierce orange glow.
Panic erupted among the Dutch soldiers. Shouts of alarm and confusion filled the air as they rushed out of their burning tents. But they were t with a deadly hail of arrows from the Maratha archers, who had positioned themselves carefully around the camp. The arrows flew, hitting each Dutch soldier, and they fell one by one. Their cries of surprise turned to groans of agony as the archers were rciless.
In monts, the camp settled to a bloody scene of chaos and death. The remaining Dutch soldiers also got quickly overwheld. The area fell silent except for the crackling of the fire and the occasional groan of the dying.
With the short mission accomplished, Maratha Captain Simha Bachkar shot a fire arrow as a flare. The arrow soared through the night sky with its fiery tail trailing behind. It landed on the far side of the river, signaling the arrival of their allies.
On the opposite bank, a white flag appeared. Makeshift rafts, fashioned from logs and ropes, were readied and loaded with supplies. Fifty soldiers, ard and prepared, crossed the river, their faces set with determination.
As they reached the far side, a tall, muscular man jumped forward, clad from head to toe in polished chain mail armor.
He introduced himself with a commanding presence. "I am Field Commander Muddappa Nayakudu."He displayed his dallion, embossed with the emblem of his command.
The Maratha captain, standing in front of him, bowed respectfully. "Captain Simha Bachkar, at your service, my lord. We have received your ssage and everyone is ready. Here is the detailed plan of our arrangent."
Muddappa nodded, impressed by the thoroughness of the preparations. "The operation seems well planned. But what about the bodies of the Dutch soldiers?"
Simha replied, "The bodies will be burned along with the camp. The traces of our attack will be thrown into the river. However, their ambush might be discovered within four or five days."
Muddappa placed a reassuring hand on Simha’s shoulder. "Three days is all we need to complete our task."
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