After the victory, some soldiers collected everything usable on the battlefield. To them, everything on the battlefield was novel and worth collecting.
The personal guards were counting valuables in each tent, while the Chud were managing the captives and rescuing the captured Rus, and they also had to take care of the excellent horses.
During the battle, the Chud's task was to control the livestock enclosure. They engaged in a fairly fierce battle with the guarding Polovtsy, which startled the warhorses inside the enclosure, but fortunately, thanks to the enclosure, all the warhorses fell into the Rus' hands.
As for the captured Rus, after rescuing them, Prince Rostislav simply inquired about their identities. He only learned that they were militiamen from near Pei City, who had been routed by the Polovtsy before they could even enter the fortress.
They had fled west at the time but were still caught by the Polovtsy and taken captive. They were all very grateful to have been rescued by Prince Rostislav, otherwise their fate would have been to become slaves.
Such limited information greatly disappointed Prince Rostislav, who could only hope to obtain more information from the other captives.
"My Lord, what a great victory! Not a single one of us died, only a few were injured, while hundreds of those Nomads were killed, not to mention the thousands of excellent horses. Now all of us can ride horses, and our speed will instantly increase significantly."
Yang excitedly approached Prince Rostislav, who was sitting by the fire, tearing lamb from the food. This roasted whole lamb was the food of Prince Rostislav's captive, but unfortunately, he was captured before he could eat it.
After the battle, Prince Rostislav discovered that the roasted whole lamb belonging to the Polovtsian leader was miraculously intact, so he decided to enjoy this delicacy.
Yang had just tallied the results of the battle and came to tell his Prince about the gains from this battle. The excitement on his face indicated the richness of these gains.
"Is that so? Come, have a taste."
Prince Rostislav appeared relatively calm about the good news, but his slightly trembling arm indicated his unsettled mood. He tore off a piece of lamb with a dagger and handed it to Yang.
This lamb was indeed worthy of being enjoyed by the Polovtsian leader; it had not only fine salt but also pepper, truly whetting one's appetite.
"It even has spices."
Yang only sniffed it, and his throat began to move. Young people are naturally in a period of growth, so how could he resist the temptation of such a delicacy? He took the strip of lamb and devoured it, but this small amount of food only stimulated his hunger, making him want to eat more.
"Look at you, come and eat."
Seeing the standard-bearer like this, Prince Rostislav smiled and pulled him closer, allowing him to also enjoy this lamb feast.
Yang gave a somewhat timid smile, but his hands were not hesitant. He pulled out his dagger, cut off meat from the lamb, and then wolfed it down.
"Speaking of which, Your Highness, why don't the Nomads eat meat every day? They have so much livestock, yet they eat tasteless cheese every day."
Vishata's son ate with grease all over his mouth, but he didn't forget to chat with the Prince. He had previously noticed that the Nomads ate cheese and not fresh meat.
"Ah… for Nomads, livestock is like their seed grain. Why would anyone eat their seed grain?"
Prince Rostislav explained the social ecology of the steppe to his young personal guard. He had heard this information from a steppe chieftain with whom he was friends.
"If they ate meat every day, there wouldn't be enough meat at all, and the livestock would soon be slaughtered completely, yet people still need to live. Moreover, if there's a drought or a snowstorm, a large number of livestock would die, so every Nomad hopes to have more and more livestock. On the steppe, only nobles who control vast herds of livestock can eat meat every day, while ordinary Nomads can only eat cheese produced by their livestock, in addition to collected wild vegetables and some game obtained through hunting."
"I see."
Just as the Prince and the standard-bearer were discussing steppe society, a team of wagons was approaching on the ridge where they had previously ambushed. Prince Rostislav instinctively wanted to draw his sword, but upon seeing the Rurik banner, he recalled the baggage train that had been left behind at the camp.
After his victory, Prince Rostislav had sent people to call for them. Those wagons would be perfect for loading various spoils of war and holding captives.
Just as Prince Rostislav relaxed slightly, a personal guard wearing chainmail came to his master and whispered a message to him.
"Is that Polovtsian finally going to speak?"
An hour earlier, inside what was once the Polovtsian leader's tent, the former owner was tied to a chair. Several Rus personal guards were on alert inside the tent. Their captain, Gvaran, had just interrogated this man, so the captive had many bruises, indicating the nature of the interrogation process.
"What does he want to say?"
Prince Rostislav, escorted by his personal guards, entered the tent. Everyone, except for the Nomad who was beaten black and blue, saluted him.
This Polovtsian said he would confess, but only if Prince Rostislav came. So, Prince Rostislav came.
Seeing the leader of these Rus, the Prince Rostislav who had defeated him, arrive, this Polovtsian immediately spoke a sentence in his language, his tone filled with regret.
"What did he say?"
Gvaran looked at the Polovtsian translator in the camp.
"He said that he was actually defeated by a beardless young boy."
The translator translated the man's words faithfully, while Gvaran was somewhat impatient.
"Tell him to say what he wants to say immediately, quickly!"
The translator communicated with the Polovtsian for a few moments, and the Polovtsian smiled, a smile that made Prince Rostislav uneasy.
"He said that you stole Tugel's warhorses, and the news has already spread. He will come for you."
"Fu" is the title for a Polovtsian tribal leader, a dignitary below a Khan. And this Tugel, Prince Rostislav knew this name.
"God, why did we steal something from that mad dog!"
Prince Rostislav felt very bad. He knew this name, knew he was a powerful madman, and that fellow would surely cling on relentlessly.
Not only Prince Rostislav, but other Rus personal guards also looked somewhat surprised and troubled upon hearing this name. Tugel's notoriety had always been widespread on the border, concerning his vindictiveness, his audacity, and his ruthlessness.
Seeing the Rus panic upon hearing this name, the Nomad burst into laughter. To everyone, it sounded so harsh, but it was immediately silenced by Gvaran's iron fist.