The hammer strikes had barely begun to echo across the cliffs of Nandigram when the whispers followed. Men hauled timber and dragged limestone blocks to the shore, and farmers arrived with oxen, lending muscle for coin and promise. The saltworks were taking shape, rough channels already dug to greet the tide.
But even as the stones were laid, unseen eyes watched.
At dawn, Shaurya walked among the workers, his cloak unadorned, dust settling on his boots. He spoke to masons about the slope of walls, asked farmers about their oxen's feed, and listened to merchants argue about investments. Each word, each nod, carried weight. He knew the people needed more than orders—they needed to believe this was theirs.
Yet among the hopeful faces, a shadow moved.
A worker bent too low, hands calloused but movements too precise for a laborer. A merchant offering loans with interest strangely generous. A noble's servant loitering too long by the ledgers. The signs were faint, but Shaurya's eyes sharpened. Kael's hand was here, probing, planting seeds of sabotage.
---
That evening, in the Queen-Mother's council chamber, murmurs grew louder than the sea itself.
"My Queen," said Lord Adityan, his jeweled hand resting on the table, "the boy dares gamble the treasury on salt. The people may cheer now, but when Kael's ships strike, their cheers will turn to curses."
A ripple of agreement ran through certain nobles. Others stayed silent, watching the Queen-Mother, whose face betrayed nothing.
Minister Baldev shifted uneasily.
"Majesty, forgive me, but the boy is not wrong. Salt is life. If this succeeds, Nandigram will hold wealth untouchable. But the costs—"
"The costs," Adityan snapped, "will bleed our coffers dry before a single crystal is cut!"
The Queen-Mother raised her hand, silencing them all. Her voice was calm, but steel rang beneath it.
"Shaurya has vision. Yet vision without vigilance can undo kingdoms. We shall not oppose his works openly… but neither shall we close our eyes to their dangers."
Her gaze lingered on the nobles.
"You will watch him. And if Kael's shadow falls here, I expect to be warned before the stones crumble beneath us."
---
Meanwhile, Shaurya convened his own council in the quieter halls of his wing. His generals, ministers, and trusted allies stood around a low table covered in maps.
"Sabotage will come," Shaurya said flatly. "Kael will not waste fleets when whispers can do his work."
General Bhaskar scowled.
"Then we root them out. Soldiers at every channel, guards on every ledger. Let Kael's rats choke on their own fear."
Shaurya shook his head.
"No. Too much steel, and the people will think this project is a prison. It must breathe. Trust must not be drowned by suspicion."
He turned to Pandit Rudran.
"Yet we cannot be blind. Set watchers among the workers—men who blend in. And keep eyes on the nobles. Some will be tempted to trade loyalty for Kael's coin."
Rudran bowed his head.
"It will be done, Majesty. But be warned—if you cage serpents, they may bite harder when cornered."
Shaurya's faint smile was calm, unyielding.
"Then let them bite. I will show them that their fangs cannot pierce stone."
---
Days passed, and the saltworks grew. Channels gleamed wet in the sun, reservoirs deepened, and piles of limestone rose like white teeth against the sea. The people's spirits lifted, but beneath the surface, tension thickened.
A cart laden with timber collapsed on a narrow cliff road—ropes suspiciously cut. A reservoir wall cracked though the stone was freshly laid—lime weakened by hidden hands. A ledger of supplies went missing, only to reappear with numbers shifted.
Each time, Shaurya responded not with anger, but precision. He ordered duplicate ledgers hidden. He placed a mason loyal only to him at every work site. And when the cut ropes were found, he said nothing to the crowd—only tightened the watch in silence.
But at night, in the shadows of the salt cliffs, Shaurya's thoughts turned sharper. This was not mere sabotage. It was a message. Kael wanted him unsettled, uncertain, doubted by his own court.
And as the moonlight cast silver upon the tide, Shaurya whispered to the waves:
"Let him come. If Kael believes whispers and shadows will shake me, he has yet to see how stone remembers every scar."
---
The chapter closes with two scenes unfolding in parallel:
In the council chamber, the Queen-Mother hears reports of sabotage, her face unreadable, her mind calculating whether Shaurya's rise must be tempered—or guided to her own ends.
On the cliffs, Shaurya stands atop the half-built saltworks, the sea wind howling around him, his eyes burning with resolve. For every act of sabotage, his determination hardens, until the saltworks become not just an industry, but a declaration of war.
The first sparks of a silent battle had been struck. And in those sparks, the future of Nandigram glowed faintly, waiting to be forged.
To be continued....