The radio clicked off, leaving the royal chamber in a thoughtful silence.
Rani stood still for a moment, a small smile playing on her lips despite the weight of responsibility on her shoulders.
Rani Lakshmibai (softly to herself):
“Both of them… always trying to outdo each other.”
She shook her head fondly, then turned toward the large map of India spread across the table.
Red pins marked the growing influence of the League, Jhansi at the center, Awadh secured, Rajputana shining in the west, and now fresh marks appearing in Bihar thanks to the Guardian’s shadow work.
Meanwhile, in Patna, I was already planning my next attack.
This time,e I had decided to target the British and oppressive landlords’ warehouses.
Once, I had a collective meeting with the villagers and my men, and they collectively proposed a brilliant idea.
With this plan, we could easily destroy British warehouses without risking anyone’s death and also evade any possible inquiry by the British officers.
I chose a special group from “Nishachar Dals” and trained them for days in gunpowder expertise and explosions.
They were called “Kala Naags”.
Their main job was to locate British bunkers, warehouses, etc., at night and plan their demolitions during the night.
To make it more credible to the British, I guided them to set the supply warehouses on fire.
Since they were all mostly in or near jungles, the excuse of a forest fire would be the best offensive option for them.
That same night, “Kaala Nags” were assigned their first mission.
They were divided into groups of seven to eight people and spread out in the areas of Aarah, Dinapur, and Chhotaganpur Plateau regions.
As the night’s darkness enveloped them completely, “Kaala Nags” made their move.
Two to three assassination groups surrounded a warehouse.
Usually,y the Indian sepoy slept outside the warehouse while higher-ranking British officials slept inside, usually on hay or even bunk beds.
The fourth group came forward,d and the sepoys moved aside without any sound.
The assassins blocked the gate with an axe.
Soon, the leader came forward, and he ordered some of his men to enter the building and retrieve all the people inside.
Within no time, the assassins located the few windows the shed had.
The second group climbed up and entered through those windows in the shed.
As the commander, Jayram waited outside the shed for his men’sreturn.
A voice crackled in his earpiece, “All units in position, sir!!
We await your orders to commence the operation.” A drop of sweat rolled down the commander’s face as his voice travelled silently through thewalkie-talkiee, “DO IT!!!!” As soon as these words left the commander’s mouth, a massive operation of rooting out and disrupting the British supply lines began.
Their heart pounding as fast as an engine, assassination squads crept up close to the British officials.
Using suppressed pistols and garrotes, es they neutralized all the sleeping officials.
That same night, the “Kaala Naags” received their first major mission.
They moved out in small groups of seven to eight, spreading silently across the areas of Arrah, Dinapur, and the Chhotanagpur plateau.
The night was pitch black, the moon hidden behind thick clouds, the perfect cover for shadows.
Two assassination teams surrounded the British warehouse while the demolition group waited in the treeline.
Most Indian sepoys slept outside on charpoys, while the higher-ranking British officers rested inside the main building.
Using suppressed pistols and garrotes, my men neutralized the sentries with deadly silence.
The remaining sepoys, sensing the inevitable, were quietly allowed to slip away into the darkness.
Once the perimeter was secure, the demolition team moved in.
They carefully laid trails of gunpowder along the walls and near the stored ammunition crates.
Jayram, the squad leader, waited outside, listening through his earpiece.
A soft crackle came: “All units in position, sir.”
Jayram’s reply was barely a whisper.
“Do it.”
The teams inside worked with cold precision.
They located a few windows, slipped through, and with some muffled shots cleared the interior.
Moments later,ater they began crawling back out as silently as they had entered.
Then one man accidentally stepped on a dry twig.
The sharp snap cut through the night like a gunshot.
Everyone froze.
A British sentry came running from the corridor, musket raised, his eyes frantically scanning the darkness.
He stood just meters away, breathing heavily, sweeping the area with his lantern.
For several terrifying heartbeats, no one moved.
The team remained pressed flat against the ground, barely breathing.
Finally, the sentry muttered, “Damn wild boar or some jungle creature!!” and lowered his musket.
He shrugged and walked back inside.
The Kaala Naags didn’t waste a second.
As soon as he disappeared, they slipped out of the shadows, removed their camouflage clothes, and melted back into the tree line.
One man struck a matchstick against a stone and touched it to the powder line.
With a low whoosh, flames raced along the trails.
Bright orange and crimson fire soon engulfed the warehouse.
From a distance, it would look like a forest fire that had spread to the supply depot, exactly as planned.
That night, the British lost more than half their stocked supplies and nearly all their ammunition in that sector.
Over a span of twelve to thirteen weeks, my troops and secret forces were able to secure parts of Patna, Shahabad, which included Bhojpur, Rohtas area, Saran, Muzaffarpur,r and Champaran, and turned them in favour of the Alliance.
Far away in the north, a procession of carriages loaded with riches, one Muslim clothing and other souvenirs, headed swiftly in the direction of Himachal.
Begum Hazrat Mahal had already conquered the Kullu region and was advancing towards the Mandi and Sanket regions of Himachal.
Her eyes were glowing with confidence after her successful negotiations with Kullu.
After not so long, her procession reached Mandi.
Instead of directly visiting the royal court, she went ahead and surveyed the area.
She came to know about the plight of the local people.
She shrewdly thought of a plan which could easily turn the ruler of Mandi into a loyal supporter of the alliance.
Her procession entered the gateway of Maharaja Bijai Sen’s palace in Mandi.
As she entered the court, she could help but marvel at the breathtaking architecture of the court domes and hand-carved designs on the walls and pillars of the palace.
Maharaja seemed intrigued at first, but soon an all-knowing smile spread across his face.
“Do you like what you see?” he asked deliberately.
Begum (with a graceful tilt of her head, a knowing sparkle in her eyes, and a soft but sharp smile):
“Oh, my Maharaja, I like it very much.
The domes are magnificent, the carvings exquisite, truly fit for a ruler of ancient lineage.
But I must confess, what truly impresses me is not the stone and marble!!
It is the clever young lion who sits beneath them, pretending to be a helpless cub while already sharpening his claws in secret.”
Tell me, Your Highness, do you like what you see, when you look at a Begum who has travelled all this way, not merely to admire architecture, but to remind a future Emperor that even the smallest hill can hide the sharpest blade?”
She pauses, her smile deepening with playful mischief.
Begum:
“After all, palaces are built by kings, but empires are built by those bold enough to choose the right alliance at the right time.”
Raja was taken aback; his eyes widened in disbelief.
He lets out a small laugh.
Maharaja Bijai Sen:
“Oh my my!!
You are every bit as shrewd as they say you are, Begum ji!
It was my mistake to test you.
”
Begum chuckles but immediately shifts to a serious tone.
Begum:
“Thanks a lot, Raja ji.
But today I come here under the “Jhansi Awadh alliance” to formally seek your aid in our campaign against these British forces.
As you must have come to know by now, a massive revolt against the British is going on in north west and central India.
The “guardian”, a central figure in this revolt, hails from the Jhansi Awadh alliance; his contributions have helped sustain the revolt for this long.
We desire to offer you assistance and full military and logistics support, which will help you to prevail over the British.
We have superior firepower, better healthcare,e and excellent vehicles, which will not only free your region from the British but also contribute a lto in your region’s development.
“The Road of Fire,” which has almost covered the whole of northern India, will be extended to your territories.
This can boost your trade and movement by seventy percent.
The alliance will provide these advancements to you for free now and also in the future, but only on one condition.”
The Raja was very impressed and listened intently.
Raja:
“So you say that your road, weapons, and methods will boost the economy of my kingdom by seventy percent.
Such a bold claim.
Sounds interesting, but what is your condition?”
Begum:
“We ask you to become a part of the Jhansi Awadh alliance and help us fend off British influence from your empire.
Just this one thing and nothing else.
In turn, we offer you our unparalleled support, modern firearms, technology, and all materials from the alliance.
I myself have brought some samples from the alliance.
If you want, you may check them out.”
She pointed at the treasure chests liup ned at the side of the court.
The whole court became intrigued, and there were murmurs all around.” Upon the indication of Wazir Gosain, the treasure chests were opened and from inside shone the modern firearms, bulletproof vest and, pistols, grenades, etc.
Wazir, confused, asked, ” What is all this?” Begum didn’t answer;r, she just turned and clapped her hands twice.
Soon after, two large lanes of soldiers entered the court.
The officers panicked and stood from their seats.
Wazir, now shocked and careful, asked, ” Care to explain, Begum Sahiba?”
The officers and nobles in the court visibly tensed.
Several hands moved instinctively toward their swords.
Wazir’s face turned pale as he stared at the modern firearms, bulletproof vests, grenades, and the disciplined soldiers standing in perfect formation.
Wazir Gosain (voice sharp with alarm):
You bring armed men into the Maharaja’s court without warning?”
Begum Hazrat Mahal remained perfectly composed, her posture regal yet non-threatening.
She raised her hand gently, signaling calm.
Begum Hazrat Mahal (voice clear and steady, carrying across the hall):
“These are not invaders, Wazir ji.
These are instructors and samples of the strength that the Jhansi Awadh Alliance offers its friends.
The Guardian has equipped us with weapons and tools that the British have never faced before: silent rifles that can strike from the darkness, vests that turn bullets aside, and explosives that can level a fort without a long siege.
My men are here only to demonstrate, not to threaten.”
She turned gracefully toward Maharaja Bijai Sen, her eyes meeting him directly with a mixture of respect and quiet challenge.
Begum:
“Your Highness, you have ruled wisely and kept Mandi safe under difficult times.
But the British protection you once relied upon is crumbling.
They are stretched thin across the plains.
Their garrisons grow weaker with every victory we claim.
The time has come to choose: remain a loyal vassal and risk being swallowed when they need resources, or stand with us as an equal partner and secure your kingdom’s future for generations.”
The Maharaja leaned forward on his throne, his earlier playful smile gone.
He studied the modern weapons gleaming in the chests, then looked at the disciplined soldiers.
Maharaja Bijai Sen (slowly, weighing his words):
“You speak boldly, Begum Sahiba.
Seventy percent boost in trade and movement through this ‘Road of Fire’, modern weapons that make the Enfield look like children’s toys.
These are tempting offers indeed.
But joining your alliance means openly defying the British.
If we fail, Mandi will be crushed.
What guarantee do I have that your Guardian’s shadow work in Bihar and your successes in the hills will be enough to protect us when the redcoats march from Calcutta?”
Begum smiled, not triumphantly, but with genuine understanding.
She stepped closer to the throne, lowering her voice so only the inner circle could hear clearly, yet still projecting strength.
Begum Hazrat Mahal:
“There are no guarantees in war, Your Highness.
But I offer you this truth, the British are already bleeding.
Their supply lines are being cut in Bihar.
Their officers sleep uneasily, wondering which shadow will strike next.
The Guardian does not fight for personal glory; he fights to build something greater than any single kingdom.
Join us, and Mandi will not stand alone.
You will gain weapons that can turn the tide, medicine that saves your soldiers from disease, and trade routes that will make your valleys richer than they have ever been.”
She gestured gracefully toward the chests again.
Begum:
“Examine the samples.
Test the rifles.
Speak with the instructors.
See for yourself what the Alliance can offer.
All I ask is that you decide not out of fear of the British, but out of hope for Mandi’s future.
The choice is yours to remain in the shadow of a declining empire, or become one of the pillars of a rising Hindustan.”
A heavy silence fell over the court.
The nobles whispered among themselves.
Maharaja Bijai Sen stared at the modern weapons for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
Finally, he leaned back on his throne and let out a slow breath.
Maharaja Bijai Sen (with a measured smile):
“You are dangerous, Begum Sahiba.
Dangerous because you make rebellion sound like wisdom.
I will not decide today.
But I will not dismiss you either.
Stay as my honoured guest.
Let my commanders test these weapons.
Let us talk more privately.
If what you say proves true… Mandi may yet choose a different path.”
Begum bowed her head gracefully, a spark of satisfaction in her eyes.
Begum (softly):
“That is all I ask, Your Highness.
Time to see, and time to choose.”