Chapter 11: Emperor [1]
"So, do you know why was I summoned by the Emperor, Praveen?" Harsha asked, his eyes drifting from the colourful flowers in the garden to the dimly lit hallways they were walking through. He followed Praveen, who was leading him to the Emperor.
Praveen glanced back nervously, his steps quickening. "Your Highness, I don't know the details. The Emperor's orders were just conveyed to me by my father!"
Harsha, stroking his chin in amusement, asked, "Your father? Who is that?"
Praveen took a deep breath before answering, "My father is the Head Butler of the Palace, Your Highness. You must have met him in the Empress's chamber, assisting with the affairs."
Harsha's eyes widened in recognition. "Ah, the old man with the book? That's your father?"
"Yes, Your Highness," Praveen confirmed with a respectful nod. "He's been serving the royal family for many years."
"I see," Harsha mused, the smirk on his face fading into a thoughtful expression. "He seems quite dedicated to be serving in the palace at such an old age,"
Praveen smiled slightly, "Thank you, Your Highness. My father has always been devoted to his duties."
He reached the Royal Court, where a huge gold door, twice his height and adorned with intricate carvings of tigers, stood strong before him. The Empire's crest was prominently displayed in the centre, gleaming dimly. Two armoured guards stood watch, their expressions stern. As Harsha approached, they swiftly moved to open the heavy door, which creaked slightly.
At the same time, one of the guards announced his arrival in a loud, echoing voice.
"HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, HARSHA DEVA RAYA, IS ENTERING!"
Harsha took a deep breath and stepped into the Royal Court, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor.
'Quite a welcome! Medieval times are just different, I guess,' he thought, walking towards the Emperor's throne.
Reaching the throne, he stopped and bowed slightly, his eyes meeting the Emperor's. "Greetings, Your Majesty The Sun of the Empire, May the blessings of Shiva always be with you," he greeted, his voice steady.
The Emperor's Throne stood high and mighty in the Huge Chamber adorned with Gold and intricate designs of a tiger etched on the armrests. On top of the throne was a man with a strong, muscular build, showing the wear of many battles. His arms bore numerous scars, each telling a story of past conflicts.
His hair was streaked with lines of grey, and fine lines creased his face, hinting at the years he had spent ruling his empire.
His sharp, piercing eyes conveyed authority. Despite his fine robes and jewellery, it was clear he was a seasoned warrior from the way the powerful presence he commanded.
'Oh, nice! He looks so strong. Damn it! I want to fight the Emperor!' Harsha thought, feeling a surge of excitement as he imagined various battle scenarios. 'But now is not the right time,' he reminded himself, his anticipation tempered by caution.
Beside the Emperor stood a tall young man with sharp features and a muscular build. Light facial hair framed his determined face, and a talwar hung at his waist, its hilt marked with the Royal seal. He bore a striking resemblance to the Empress.
'So this must be one of the princes of the Empire and my "half-brother,"' Harsha thought, his gaze shifting back to the Emperor, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
Meanwhile, a few minutes earlier in the Royal Court.
"Father, why have you summoned Harsha to the court?" asked Chandra Deva Raya, the eldest son of the Emperor and first in line for the throne.
The Emperor's expression turned serious. "I heard he suffered a head injury and lost his memories," he replied, a hint of concern in his voice. "There have been changes in him, I have received a report from Commander Venkata."
"What?? He lost his memories!!? Isn't that a huge deal, Father" Exclaimed the Prince.
"Yes, it is. Your Mother informed me that he remembers some memories vaguely apparently," stated the Emperor.
Chandra frowned. "And what of his behaviour since his return?"
The Emperor sighed, leaning back on his throne. "There have been unsettling changes. He is not the same as he once was. I need to understand what has happened to him."
"Hmm, and Father, we have an issue," Chandra began, his voice steady but filled with concern. "After the conquest, there are many mouths to feed. Our grain storages can sustain them for only five months."
The Emperor's frown deepened, lines of worry etching into his forehead. "I will take care of it somehow," he replied, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in his voice.
Chandra pressed on, "We need a solution soon, Father. If we don't, we risk a famine. The newly acquired lands from the Bahmani Sultanate need time to become productive."
The Emperor knew the reality all too well. To avoid famine in the newly expanded territories, They would need to invest a significant amount of money. The freshly acquired arable land from the Bahmani Sultanate wouldn't yield crops immediately; it would take time for cultivation to begin and for the region to become self-sufficient.
"Where do you think we can buy the grain currently in the market?" the Emperor asked, his voice heavy with concern.
Chandra, his eyes scanning the report of the war, replied thoughtfully, "Father, the Gajapathis and the Portuguese can provide grains for us. But both will sell at high rates, so we'll have to pay a premium price."
The Emperor's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The Portuguese have grains?" he exclaimed
"Father, our reports suggest that they are hoarding grains they bought from the Qutb Sultanate in Daman when the war started. I think they'll charge a premium for these grains if we try to buy them," Chandra mentioned, his frown deepening. He knew the high price would strain the treasury significantly.
The Emperor clicked his tongue in disgust. "Hm... those pesky Mlecchas are always trying to pull something off," he muttered, his frustration evident as he heard the report.
Chandra nodded in agreement, adding, "We might have to consider other options as well, Father. Perhaps reaching out to Gajapathis or even increasing local production, though that would take time."
"Gajapathis, even after hoarding, wouldn't be able to satisfy our demand. We have no choice," the Emperor acknowledged grimly.
The Emperor sighed. "We don't have much choice. We'll send the delegation to the Portuguese and start looking into increasing our grain production in the new lands. We must be prepared for the worst."
"Understood, Father," Chandra said with determination.
Present
He noticed the sharp gaze of the Emperor and lifted his own to match it. In a calm voice, he asked, "Your Majesty, may I know the reason I have been summoned?"
The Emperor, looking down from the throne with an indifferent expression, stated, "I received reports about your injuries and the loss of your memories. So, how are you feeling right now?"
"Thanks to Your Majesty's Grace and Aditya's expertise, I have managed to recover" answered Harsha.
The Emperor, looking down from the throne with an indifferent expression, asked, "I heard you accomplished a lot in Gulbarga against the Bahmani forces." A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"It's nothing extraordinary compared to His Majesty's charge in Bidar," Harsha said, carefully choosing his words. "This is just a small achievement."
The Emperor's gaze softened slightly, a hint of approval in his eyes. "Humility is a rare trait, Harsha. Your modesty does you credit."
The Emperor was handed a paper by the Prince standing beside him. He glanced at it, a smirk flashing across his face as he read aloud the achievements Harsha had accomplished on the battlefield.
"Harsha Deva Raya," the Emperor began, his voice resonating through the chamber, "Your feats in Gulbarga have reached us. Single-handedly breaching enemy lines, thwarting the ambush of the commander under dire circumstances, and ensuring victory in the battle. Impressive indeed."
"So, for this, I think you deserve an appropriate reward! What do you wish for?" the Emperor asked with an amused smile.
'Hmm... A wish! What do I lack now? Influence,' Harsha pondered carefully.
He knew if he wished for some sort of influence, it would only last temporarily. He had done some research and learned that he was the least influential among the princes. Considering no relatives or parents came to visit him, he concluded that he needed to prove himself to gain lasting influence.
'So, I should wish for a chance to prove myself to tackle issues and Gain influence in the Noble circle,' Harsha made up his mind quickly considering the possibilities.
Harsha paused for a moment before speaking decisively, "Your Majesty, if I may, I wish for an opportunity to demonstrate my capabilities in handling significant challenges,"
The Emperor, taken aback by Harsha's wish, looked at him with furrowed brows and asked, "Why not something else, like gold or land?"
Harsha met the Emperor's surprised gaze with a calm demeanour. "Your Majesty, gold and land can be acquired, but influence is earned through actions and trust."
"I see, So be it! Do you have any particular task in mind you want to do"
"No, Your Majesty, You can assign me anything I would do it" he replied with confidence.
"Give me the report," the Emperor commanded. He grabbed the document from Chandra and handed it to Harsha with a smug expression.
"Let's hear how you would tackle this situation. If your answer is satisfactory, I'll assign you the task."
"Father, this—"
"Silence!" The Emperor's sharp voice cut through Chandra's interjection, his curiosity piqued about Harsha's response.
Harsha took the report, feeling the weight of the Emperor's expectations. He opened it, scanning the contents quickly. The tension in the room grew palpable as all eyes focused on him.
Harsha took a deep breath and began, "Your Majesty, the solution lies in—"
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