If someone were to see the Fort of Bawal from the sky, it would look like an ancient guardian stood on the edge of the world.

  The fort is positioned in hilly terrain with a semi circur shape, sharing the northern cliff radius as the border and deterrence, while its expansive round face gazes out over sweeping pins bordered by dense forests to the south.

  The western side slopes down from a cliff to the southern pins, providing an additional entrance along with the usual southern and eastern gates.

  It resembled like a formidable eye, with two concentric walls dividing its territories into two distinct realms.

  The outer perimeter consisted of a vast number of military outposts, forming the first line of defense. A newly dug moat filled with water surrounds the outer wall, acting as a barrier against any invading force. This addition was thanks to the foresight of Amber's king during his defense preparations, adding more strength to the age-old structure, simir to the Amber Fort.

  Here, hidden from sight at higher level, are secret openings known as murder holes, ready to unleash deadly attacks on any intruders when commanded. However at current it is occupied by cannons but one time it was used to drop oils and stones.

  The thick-walled fort, which once reserved space for catapults or stone throwers, now accommodated a greater number of soldiers and neatly arranged supplies.

  Beyond these defensive lines lies the core of the fort. Within the inner walls, one finds the vibrant hub of civilian life and the regal pace, organized in a hierarchical manner. Connected by a network of roads like the strands of a spider's web, residents can easily navigate to any destination from any direction.

  Inside the walls, soldiers went on high alert when the cannons thundered. Among them, a lower-ranking commander, Sardar Ajay Pal Tomar, swiftly rushed to the walls with his units.

  "Look sardar, the camp is destroyed." one soldier cried.

  "There are many injured!" another one pointed out.

  The scene that met their eyes was chilling: tents outside the walls torn and abze, injured being carried away.

  In the distance, darkness cloaked the vast empty grounds, obscuring any visibility.

  'Dang! Dang! Dang!'

  "Follow me, they need out help. Its emergency!"

  Soon, the arm bell rang, prompting Sardar Ajay to immediately mobilize his units to evacuate the injured and assist allies safely inside the walls.

  "Soldier, we are under attack! All get to their position in wall! I want to see everyone at wall."

  "Everyone take bows and wait for my orders"

  "Bring the Torches!"

  Once within, he found General Ratan Singh issuing orders for defense.

  "All heard him right! Paltan (like ptoons ) to the walls!"

  Sardar Ajay directed his hundred units to swiftly position themselves along a specific section of the front walls, armed with bows and arrows. Torches were lit along the walls, their dim light revealing shadows emerging from the forests.

  Whistles sounded as special arrows coated in oil were distributed. General Ratan Singh himself readied a fming arrow, igniting it in a torch before firing it into the horizon.

  As the arrow streaked through the sky, its light exposed the menacing darkness, revealing a cluster of vilgers cd in makeshift armor, wielding long wooden shields and dders for the assault.

  "Oh, my god! Tell me its a nightmare." a soldier despaired.

  "Why are they so much?", a solider said in disbelief.

  "Look they look like locals but why they are so hateful. Does the zamindars finally revolted? but where is the main army?", a solider pointed out.

  Waves upon waves poured from the forest, their numbers appearing threefold and instilling fear in the troops on the wall. Their faces showed no remorse, only a deep-seated grudge and determination for rebellion. The question lingered among the defenders: where was the real enemy army and who commanded this force?

  "They're coming!" shouted a soldier in urgency.

  But there was little time to ponder as the vilgers formed ranks and charged from all three sides.

  "Light the arrows!", General Ratan Singh ordered .

  "First row, dip your arrows! Second and third rows, hold steady!"

  Sardar Ajay organized his units into position, setting the archers in three rows. The first row dipped their arrows into torches to set them afme, awaiting the command, while the others held their regur arrows at the ready.

  When the enemy closed in, General Ratan Singh gave the order to follow their leaders.

  Sardar Ajay's eyes narrowed, scanning the approaching mass. "Hold your ground! Ready... release!"

  With the twing of strings, Sardar Ajay and the other commanders ordered to unleash the volley of fming and regur arrows. The arrows rained down on the charging rebels, causing many to fall or catch fire. Despite the initial panic among the enemy ranks, they regrouped and advanced toward the gates with shields raised.

  Although half of the arrows missed their mark, the fire arrows ignited shields and the regur arrows found gaps in the enemy formation, penetrating their ranks.

  However, some sections of soldiers on the wall, still hesitated to release their arrows. They felt conflicted about firing, as it was evident that the attackers were locals and might even be their retives. Sensing their inner turmoil, the voice of General Ratan Singh thundered again.

  "Don't falter! Those who stand there are not our people. Our people lie behind our walls, whom they will tear apart if we fail. It doesn't matter if they are forced or coaxed. The moment they took up arms, they became rebels, your enemies. Fight for your country, fight for your family, fight for yourself. Show no mercy!"

  General's rallying roar pushed away all leftover confusions from the heart, like a fierce wind clearing all leaves from ground. His thick voice like a seasoned command, ignited a renewed fire within the defenders. No longer burdened by the guilt of facing misled kin, they stood resolute like a wall of steel against the fanatic tide.Soon the rain of arrios intensiified depleting the charging fools like moth flying to fire.

  Below, on the grounds, the enemy rushed forward like a frenzied mob, fueled by desperation and a twisted sense of duty. Their makeshift armor, a mockery of true protection, cnged against one another as they charged in amateur formations.

  But their momentum faltered as they neared the moat. Men stumbled, screams echoed from their throats as they fell upon the bed of caltrops (iron spikes) that penetrated their flesh with horrifying ease. With the sheer number of the crowd, many were pushed forward and, with a sickening crunch, fell into hidden pits of sharpened logs buried just beneath the surface.

  The initial shock wave caused a domino effect. Those behind, unable to stop their charge, plowed into the fallen, creating a writhing mass of bodies and despair. Panic erupted in the rebel ranks. Fming arrows, loosed in a coordinated volley, lighting the skies , turning the makeshift shields into shrieking torches. The air got filled with the stench of barbequed flesh. Non-fming arrows, tipped with razor-sharp steel, found their marks thought the weak armors. Men crumpled in frontline losing all formation becoming easy target.

  Those not skewered by arrows, trapped in pits or impaled on the caltrops saw the moat as their only escape. In a frenzied bid for survival, they leaped into the water.

  But their salvation was a cruel illusion. The water, still under the moonlight, was shallow, barely reaching their knees. Hidden beneath the surface were more sharpened stakes. Agonizing screams filled the night as they met their end. Blood spread across the water, staining the moon's reflection with crimson liquid.

  A grim smile crossed General Ratan Singh's lips as he observed the carnage below. He silently thanked Baljit Singh, who had devised this brutal defense. The caltrops, the hidden barrier, the stakes in the moat – all were part of a lethal strategy from a cunning ally. This short victory was achieved by strategy as much as by steel, leaving Ratan Singh with a bitter taste. Even in victory, the bloodshed of those who were never true enemies made it feel shallow.

  Soon, the retreat horns echoed from the shadows of the forest, and the assaints hastily fled, bearing more arrows in their back.

  "Run! Run! bastards wasted my sleep!"

  "Kiss my ass buggers!"

  The soldiers cheered at the quick repulsion of the enemies, with some even taunting by exposing their naked asses in mockery.

  However, General Ratan Singh remained composed, understanding that this was merely a preliminary test and the true onsught is yet to come. Despite this, he allowed his men to enjoy in the celebration, knowing they needed this morale boost.

  Soon after a horn echoed from within the pace walls, echoing across the fort, the massive gate leading to the inner wall swung open with a thunderous crack. Familiar leaders and their escort armies emerged, their armor glinting under the moonlit sky.

  First among them was King Tejpal Singh of Amber, his presence commanding respect as he was the prime architect of defence. His ten thousand soldiers marched in disciplined ranks behind him, their banners fluttering in the night breeze, bearing the emblem of Amber.

  Following him was Prince Baljit Singh of Punjab, his young face determined. His five thousand skilled army moved with precision, joining the Amber troops as the sound of armor and drums filled the air.

  Together, their arrival bolstered the defenders' ranks, infusing the fort with renewed strength and determination.

  Next came their beloved king of Rewari and master of the fort, Rao Todar Mal, accompanied by his royal guards.

  Soon the delegate members emerged as they took position to the side of their escort armies. The allies' leaders exchanged nods of acknowledgment as they swiftly formed ranks and took their positions. Their eyes fixed on the upcoming threat beyond the fort's walls as the fight is far from over.