The storm outside had finally quieted, but the palace of Ahmednagar was anything but calm. The silence that replaced the rain was heavy, ominous—like the hush before a predator strikes. Chand Bibi sat at her writing desk, her fingers moving across a scroll, sketching plans of the fort's defense with precision. The candle's flame trembled, throwing long shadows across her face, painting her both as a queen and a warrior.
A low knock broke the silence. Not hurried, not hesitant. A measured rhythm.She frowned. "Enter."
The door creaked open, revealing her nephew Bahadur Khan. His smile was smooth, but his eyes gleamed with an intent she didn't trust. He bowed low, but his words were honey-laced poison."Dearest aunt, I bring news. The Deccan confederacy strengthens their forces. They march not just against our enemies, but with eyes set on Ahmednagar too. You must realize—your command puts the Sultanate at risk. The nobles whisper."
Chand Bibi's gaze sharpened like a blade. "Do the nobles whisper, or do you whisper through them, Bahadur?"
His lips twitched but quickly shaped into another charming smile."You wound me. I seek only to protect our bloodline. And yet… soldiers tire, the coffers thin. Perhaps the time has come to bend before we break. The Mughals—"
Her voice cut through him like thunder. "The Mughals will have to march through my corpse before they claim Ahmednagar."
The room fell into a silence so thick, it seemed to choke the very air. Bahadur's smile faded, replaced by something darker, sharper, before he bowed once more and left with words that lingered like a curse:"Then I pray the walls hold longer than your courage."
That night, Chand Bibi walked the ramparts. The moonlight painted the stone silver, but beyond the fort lay a sea of shadows. From her vantage point, she could see the flicker of countless campfires—the Mughal army encircling Ahmednagar like wolves around prey.
Her loyal commander, Ibrahim Khan, appeared at her side."They are tightening the noose," he muttered. "Our supplies may last weeks… but not months."
Chand Bibi's eyes never left the horizon."Then we must strike fear before hunger strikes us. Prepare the cavalry. Tomorrow, we ride at dawn."
The dawn came blood-red. The gates of Ahmednagar thundered open, and Chand Bibi led her horse forward, armor glinting in the sun like fire. Her banner snapped in the wind—an eagle soaring defiant. Soldiers roared her name as they surged out, a torrent of steel and fury.
The clash was immediate—Mughal cavalry thundered to meet them, but Chand Bibi was already a storm unleashed. She cut through the chaos with the grace of a predator, her sword flashing like lightning, her voice carrying like a battle hymn.
But beneath the noise of war, an unease gnawed at her. Something was wrong. The Mughal formation was loose, almost inviting.
And then she saw it—the trap.
A horn blast split the air. Hidden Mughal reserves poured from the hills, closing the jaws around Ahmednagar's riders. The ambush was perfect, precise. Her heart pounded, but her mind was sharper.
"Fall back to the walls!" she shouted. "Draw them in!"
Her soldiers obeyed, retreating in a controlled chaos. The Mughal army pressed, hungry for blood. But the moment their vanguard reached the fort gates, Chand Bibi gave a single signal.
Flames erupted. Tar and fire cascaded from the battlements, turning Mughal horses into shrieking, writhing shadows. The air stank of burning flesh and fear.
Ahmednagar roared in triumph. But in the chaos, Chand Bibi's eyes sought one figure—Bahadur Khan, watching from the walls. His face was unreadable, but she swore she saw satisfaction flicker there.
That night, the victory celebrations rang hollow. Chand Bibi sat alone in her chambers, staring at her bloodstained gauntlets. She had won the day, but the shadows inside the fort grew longer than those outside.
The sound of footsteps drew her gaze. A maid entered, trembling, her eyes darting nervously. She placed a folded parchment before the queen."My lady… this was slipped under the kitchens door. It bears your seal, but…"
Chand Bibi unfolded it. The ink was fresh, the words short, cutting:"The serpent sleeps in your court. Tomorrow, the blade will find you."
Her hand tightened around the parchment. She looked toward the balcony, where the night stretched endlessly, and whispered to herself, "The enemy outside I can fight. But the one within… that is the shadow that terrifies."
The candle guttered, and for the first time in many battles, Chand Bibi felt the icy touch of unseen eyes watching from the dark.
To be continued........