NOVEL WEB Chapter 42: Cannon test
The sun cast its golden glow over the workshop as Crown Prince Harsha arrived at Balram's forge. The rhythmic clang of hammers and the hiss of molten metal filled the air. Smoke from the blast furnaces curled toward the sky, merging with the warm afternoon haze. Blacksmiths toiled, sweat glistening on their brows as they shaped steel and bronze into weapons of war.
Balram stood near the testing grounds, his hands dusted with soot, his eyes alight with excitement. Before him stood their latest creation—an iron-wrought cannon, its surface blackened from the intense heat of the forge, its barrel resting on a reinforced wooden carriage fitted with iron wheels.
Harsha dismounted, his gaze fixed on the weapon that could change the course of history.
"Yuvraj," Balram greeted, bowing deeply. "The cannon is ready for its first test."
Harsha stepped forward, running his fingers along the cold metal. "How much black powder can it hold?" he asked, his voice steady.
Balram wiped his hands on his tunic. "For now, we are testing with a half-Ratti (medieval time measuring unit ) measure. Any more, and we risk cracking the barrel."
Harsha nodded. "Then let us see if this beast can roar."
The blacksmiths moved with practiced efficiency. One carried a small wooden cask filled with black powder—a volatile mix of saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur. Another brought a heavy lead ball, smooth and polished. Carefully, they measured the powder, pouring it into the cannon's muzzle, followed by a thick wad of wool to keep the charge compact.
Balram gestured to one of his apprentices. "Ramdas, bring the fuse."
The boy ran forward, carrying a slow-burning fuse coated in sulfur. He handed it to Balram, who carefully inserted it into the touch hole at the rear of the cannon.
Harsha stepped back, observing every movement. The men hurried behind a stone barricade, leaving only Balram and Harsha near the cannon.
"The target?" Harsha asked.
Balram pointed to a thick wooden shield propped against a distant boulder, nearly fifty paces away. "If the shot lands true, the force should be enough to splinter that into kindling."
Harsha's pulse quickened. This was the moment of truth.
Balram pulled a glowing iron rod from a nearby forge and touched it to the fuse. Instantly, sparks danced along the rope, eating away at the fibers. The moment stretched into eternity as the fire crept downward.
Then—
A deafening explosion shattered the stillness. A cloud of white smoke erupted from the cannon's mouth, engulfing everything in its wake. The ground trembled as the recoil pushed the cannon back, the iron wheels groaning against the dirt.
Harsha shielded his eyes, watching as the iron ball hurtled through the air. A second later, a thunderous crash echoed across the plains. The wooden shield splintered into pieces, sending shards flying in all directions.
Silence followed, save for the ringing in their ears.
Then, a cheer erupted from the workers. They clapped and shouted, their voices filled with triumph.
Balram wiped his forehead, his grin wide. "Yuvraj, it works!"
Harsha exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment settling over him. This was not just a weapon—it was the beginning of a new age.
"Again," he ordered.
They reloaded the cannon, this time increasing the powder charge. Another explosion rocked the land, sending a fresh volley of smoke into the sky. The cannonball struck a stone wall behind the shield, embedding itself deep into the rock.
Harsha approached Balram. "How long until we can produce more?"
Balram hesitated. "The foundries can cast two barrels a week, but refining the iron, reinforcing the barrels—it takes time. And we need more saltpeter."
Harsha's mind raced. "Then we increase production. More bellows, more furnaces. I want twenty cannons ready before the next campaign."
Balram nodded. "It shall be done."
Harsha turned back to the cannon, watching the smoke slowly fade into the wind. He could already see the future—fortresses crumbling, enemy lines breaking, the thunder of war echoing across Bharat.
And he would be the one to wield it.
Next Day
The grand hall of Mandore Palace was abuzz with anticipation. Nobles, commanders, and ministers gathered, their hushed whispers creating a low murmur that filled the vast chamber. The scent of sandalwood incense drifted through the air, mingling with the warm glow of torches that flickered along the marble pillars.
Then, the heavy doors burst open, and a royal messenger strode in, his armor dusted from travel, his chest heaving from the long ride. He knelt before Crown Prince Harsha and the assembled court, his voice urgent yet triumphant.
"Yuvraj Harsha! A message from Emperor Harishchandra! The Rashtrakuta army has been defeated ! Their Emperor, Indra, has fallen in battle, and our armies march towards Ujjaini as we speak!"
A stunned silence filled the hall for a moment, and then a roar of celebration erupted. The nobles clapped, and warriors banged their fists against their breastplates. Victory had come, and with it, a shift in the tides of power.
Harsha rose from his seat, his face alight with triumph. He lifted his hand, and the hall quieted instantly.
"This is a momentous day," he declared. "The Suryavanshi banner flies higher than ever before. Let this news be spread to every corner of our empire! Rajputana, Mathura, Kannauj ,Etc.—every vassal must know of our victory! Let them celebrate and honor the warriors who bled for our cause. Let the people see the strength of their empire and know that we are destined for greatness!"
The court erupted in cheers once more, and preparations began at once. Messengers were dispatched, trumpets sounded, and the city of Mandore prepared for a grand celebration. Lamps would light up in the night , temples would hold special prayers, and feasts would be prepared for the people.
As Harsha watched the jubilant crowd, he knew this was just the beginning. The empire's strength was growing, and with it, his destiny as a ruler was unfolding. The road to Ujjaini lay ahead, and he would march towards it, carrying the fire of his ancestors in his heart.
End of Chapter.
To be continued…