Chapter 65: End of Open Warfare
The final major supply depot south of Hyderabad burned with spectacular fury.
Nau Nihal Singh's one hundred and thirty riders had struck at the perfect hour — mid-morning, when most of the garrison had been pulled north to reinforce the city's walls. Raaz intelligence had pinpointed every weak point: the locations of the powder stores, the grain silos, and the poorly guarded southern gate.
Jawahar Singh led the first wave, smashing through the eastern entrance with forty riders, creating chaos and drawing defenders away. Nau Nihal took the main force straight into the heart of the depot. Fire arrows streaked through the air like crimson comets. Within minutes, massive piles of grain and fodder were engulfed in flames. Powder barrels began cooking off in a series of deafening explosions that shook the ground.
Thick black smoke rose high into the sky — a victory signal that Sher Singh and Ventura's main army would surely see from miles away.
But this time, the enemy responded with real fury.
A large Talpur relief force — nearly six hundred riders and infantry — rushed out from Hyderabad, determined to trap the raiders against the Indus. Horns blared across the plain. Dust clouds rose in every direction as the enemy tried to close the net.
"They're throwing everything at us now!" Jawahar shouted, blood trickling from a fresh cut above his eye as he reloaded his pistol on horseback.
Nau Nihal's expression remained cold and focused. "Good. Let them come. Every man they send here leaves the walls weaker for the main army."
The next two hours became a running battle across broken terrain. Nau Nihal's smaller, more mobile force used every trick Raaz had taught them — darting through reed marshes, using dry riverbeds for cover, striking hard then vanishing before the enemy could pin them down. Three of his warriors fell in the fierce fighting. Another five were wounded. But they left far more enemy bodies scattered across the fields.
By late afternoon, Nau Nihal finally gave the order to break contact completely. His men melted into the dense marshes along the river, disappearing like smoke once again.
That night, in a carefully concealed camp deep within a grove of date palms, exhaustion hung heavy in the air. The men tended to wounds, watered horses, and spoke in low voices around small, shielded fires.
Nau Nihal sat slightly apart, studying the latest Raaz reports by lantern light. His left arm throbbed where a bullet had grazed it earlier, but he paid it little attention.
Jawahar Singh joined him, chewing on a piece of hard bread. "That depot was their last major stockpile in the south. We've gutted their supplies. How long can Hyderabad realistically hold now?"
"Ten to fourteen days at best," Nau Nihal replied quietly. "Maybe less once Ventura's heavy guns begin their work. The Amirs are already in chaos. Granaries are nearly empty. Water is becoming scarce. And the southern tribes have refused to send reinforcements."
He handed the decoded note to Jawahar.
Main Sikh army has arrived outside Hyderabad. Siege lines forming. Sher Singh requests your force remain highly mobile behind enemy lines. Strike any breakout attempts or reinforcement columns. The city is cracking.
Jawahar read it and let out a low whistle. "So this really is the end of the open war. No more grand formations. No more circles or traps on the plain."
Nau Nihal nodded. "They no longer have the strength or the will to meet us in the field. From tomorrow, it becomes a war of walls, hunger, and shadows."
One of the older, battle-hardened warriors approached the fire. "Sahib, the men want to know — when do we join the main assault? When do we charge with Sher Singh?"
Nau Nihal stood, raising his voice so the entire contingent could hear him clearly.
"You have all performed beyond expectation. One hundred and thirty men operating deep behind enemy lines for weeks — disrupting their supplies, breaking their coordination, and making them fear every shadow. The enemy now calls us devils. Let them.
Tomorrow we rest and tend our wounds. Then we begin the true shadow war. We will strike their remaining boats on the Indus. Cut messenger routes. Burn any reinforcements trying to reach the city. We stay ghosts until Sher Singh gives the signal. When that moment comes, we charge from behind and shatter whatever remains of their defense."
The warriors murmured with grim satisfaction. Pride and exhaustion mixed in their eyes.
Far to the north, the main Sikh army under Sher Singh and General Ventura had completed their encirclement of Hyderabad. Cannons were being positioned on raised earthworks. Trenches were being dug. Scouts reported that the city's defenders looked visibly thinner and demoralized — exactly the effect Nau Nihal's relentless raids had been designed to create.
As Nau Nihal finally lay down to rest that night, wrapped in his cloak beneath the stars, he allowed himself a moment of reflection.
The long, grinding campaign of adaptation was truly over. All those months of reading enemy formations had ended in fire and smoke.
Now a new phase began.
One of starvation and cannon fire on the front, and relentless disruption from the rear.
He closed his eyes, the distant glow of Hyderabad's torches flickering on the horizon.
The open field belonged to the past.
The real battle for Sindh — and its fall — was only just beginning.