Chapter 89: Flames in the Hills
September 1834 – Peshawar Frontier
The call for jihad had grown from whispers to open sermons in the mountain villages.
Nau Nihal Singh stood atop a rocky outcrop overlooking a narrow valley, watching smoke rise from a distant Afghan encampment his riders had just struck. The air smelled of burnt grain and gunpowder. At thirteen, he had already become accustomed to the sight — but never comfortable with it.
Jawahar wiped sweat and dust from his face as he rode up. "The camp is destroyed. We took their weapons and scattered the rest. Some of them were shouting about paradise and holy war as they ran."
Nau Nihal nodded, his young face calm but serious. "Dost Mohammad Khan's agents are becoming bolder. The jihad rhetoric is spreading faster now. Raaz reports show at least four major mullahs openly calling for war against us in the last ten days."
They rode back toward the forward base in silence for a while. The Mobile Division had grown to nearly eleven hundred riders, a formidable force that balanced rapid strikes with defensive patrols.
Later that evening, inside the command tent, Hari Singh Nalwa listened as Nau Nihal gave his report.
"The situation is escalating," Nau Nihal said. "Dost Mohammad is using religion as a weapon. He knows a direct assault on Peshawar would be costly, so he's trying to create internal chaos and force us to overextend."
Nalwa's massive hand clenched around a cup. "Then we answer fire with fire?"
"Not blindly," Nau Nihal replied. "We must be precise. If we strike too hard at villages, we push more people toward the jihad. If we do nothing, the fire spreads. We need balance."
He pointed to the map. "I propose we increase protection for loyal villages and offer clear rewards for information. At the same time, we continue surgical strikes on jihadist gathering points and weapon caches. We make it clear that the Khalsa punishes only those who take up arms against us."
Nalwa studied the young prince for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "You have the mind of a general. Execute it. I will hold Peshawar and the main pass firmly. You guard the shadows and the hills."
Over the next ten days, Nau Nihal's strategy began to bear fruit.
His division protected several key loyal villages, helped repair wells and granaries, and publicly executed only the most violent agitators. At the same time, small, fast teams struck at jihadist camps with devastating efficiency. The message was clear: peace brought safety and prosperity. Resistance brought ruin.
One raid in particular stood out.
A large jihadist gathering of nearly three hundred fighters was preparing to attack a Sikh supply caravan. Nau Nihal's force struck at dawn. The fighting was short but fierce. When it ended, the surviving fighters were offered a choice — lay down their arms and return home, or face execution.
Most chose life.
As they were released, Nau Nihal addressed them personally, his voice carrying clearly despite his young age.
"Tell your mullahs this: The Khalsa does not war against Islam. We war against those who attack us. Live in peace, and you will prosper. Raise the sword against us, and you will be buried by it."
The released men left shaken.
Back at the main camp, Gurbaaz brought encouraging news one night.
"The jihad call is meeting more resistance than expected," he said. "Many tribes are divided. Some mullahs are losing followers because people see that we are not slaughtering innocents. Trade is still flowing, and loyal villages are being protected."
Nau Nihal allowed himself a small breath of relief. "Good. But we cannot relax. Dost Mohammad Khan will not stop. He needs a victory to maintain his authority in Kabul."
Jawahar grinned. "Then let him come. The Shadow Blade is ready."
Nau Nihal looked toward the dark mountains. "We stay vigilant. We build loyalty. And if the full storm comes…"
He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"…we will be ready."
Far to the north in Lahore, Maharaja Ranjit Singh continued to receive reports praising the efforts of Prince Nau Nihal Singh and General Hari Singh Nalwa in securing the northwest frontier.
In Peshawar, under the banners of the Khalsa, the young prince continued his quiet, determined work — fighting not just with steel, but with patience and wisdom.
The jihad was rising.
But so was the strength of the Khalsa on the frontier.