"Hmph, he sure ran fast."
Watching the remaining Polovtsy cavalry disappear in a cloud of dust at top speed, Rostislav couldn't help but say with regret that he wanted to cut off a few more heads of Polovtsy nobles.
"The Polovtsy are like that, Prince Rostislav. Once they realize the situation is unfavorable, they flee quickly."
Gvaran, covered in blood like a blood-soaked figure, approached Prince Rostislav. His Danish axe had severed countless heads and limbs.
Behind them, some Rus' people were stripping the armor from the dead, some were resting, and others were tying up captives.
"What about casualties? And the spoils?"
Rostislav didn't look at Gvaran, but continued to watch the fleeing Polovtsy, making sure of their escape.
"Casualties… roughly twenty dead, and dozens wounded. Those with minor injuries will recover with rest. As for the seriously wounded, they can only be placed on carts to see if they can survive the journey. Seven men in the Bodyguard Unit were wounded; I don't think one of them will make it. But now, only God can decide their fate."
Gvaran spoke these words with a very normal expression. For professional soldiers, war and death were nothing but ordinary occurrences. He viewed even the life and death of comrades in the same way; falling in battle was simply a warrior's everyday reality.
"As for the captives, I'm not sure yet, but there should be at least several hundred. Many Polovtsy surrendered directly when they found themselves in a desperate situation. It's just a pity about those warhorses; they basically couldn't be pulled out of the swamp, so we could only kill them for some horse meat."
"Then let the captives lead us to the Polovtsy camp. It should be empty by now, and there must still be valuable things to seize inside."
Rostislav's words were full of anticipation. Nothing was better than plundering a defeated enemy.
— — — — — — — —
After leaving servants to clear the battlefield, the Rus' people, led by the captives, headed to the temporary Polovtsy camp. It was not far from there; after about ten minutes of walking, the camp appeared in everyone's sight.
The temporary Polovtsy camp was extremely crude. There were dilapidated shacks built haphazardly everywhere, with living items like cheese and furs inside.
The entire camp had no organized layout whatsoever; it was simply where the Nomads felt they could set up camp. It also emitted the usual nomadic stench, making people frown.
The original Polovtsy guards fled immediately upon learning of the defeat. Before fleeing, they took all portable valuables from the camp, looting all the tents, especially Tugel's main tent, which was a primary target for looting.
Therefore, the Rus' people couldn't find much valuable stuff in the camp. A few scattered gold and silver items were the most they found. In the end, they only discovered dozens of inferior horses, as well as some grain and banners.
However, one of the banners pleased Rostislav greatly, because it was a Polovtsian battle flag representing the status of a Khan.
"This is good. Grandfather will be very happy when I bring this back."
Rostislav toyed with the light yellow battle flag. The flag bore symbols that only people of the steppe could understand, and it had tassels. This battle flag was made of silk, and its tip had a golden spearhead. It was clearly an item belonging to a person of nobility.
"God, a battle flag of a Khan, and Tugel's at that! This war trophy is a great honor."
Gvaran looked at the battle flag, stroking its tassels. He had fought for many years, and this was the first time he had touched such a battle flag. Nomadic battle flags were not easy to capture, because Rus' infantry could not keep up when the people of the steppe ran.
"Congratulations, Prince Rostislav."
The standard-bearer Yang offered his blessings to his peer, his tone full of envy. Rostislav had achieved such glory at a young age, and as a young man himself, he couldn't help but feel envious.
"This thing is truly unexpected."
Rostislav looked at the light yellow battle flag. To obtain such a war trophy was truly unexpected. He had thought Tugel's close retainers would have taken it, which made him sigh at his own luck.
"Yang, keep this well."
Rostislav tossed the flag to the standard-bearer. Yang held it as if it were a treasure. Such a precious war trophy naturally deserved such care, and it was Tugel's flag no less. The defeat of this infamous individual held special significance for the Rus' people and would bring Rostislav immense prestige.
"Next, let's return to Kiev and enjoy the glory we deserve."
— — — — — — — —
Whether due to Tugel's defeat or simply the retreat of the nomadic army, the journey back to Kiev was very smooth. Prince Rostislav's party encountered no enemies along the way.
And as they approached Kiev, Rostislav saw the large army assembled from various parts of Rus'.
Warriors from all over Rus' gathered here. Rostislav saw axe-wielders from Smolensk, spearmen from Chernigov, and hastily armed peasants. A large number of soldiers were assembled and armed, and even more troops were still on their way.
However, besides warriors, a large number of refugees had also gathered, all having fled from nearby seeking the protection of Kiev's walls. But they were denied entry into Kiev and could only set up camps in the suburbs. From a distance, it looked like a slum, with countless people living within it.
The Kiev Viche distributed some grain to this "slum" daily to prevent starvation, but as the population steadily increased, the grain became increasingly insufficient, and the dissatisfaction of the fleeing peasants grew daily.
They had come seeking the protection of the city walls but were turned away, and now they were being exploited by merchants who constantly raised grain prices. The grain distributed by the Veche was no longer enough to feed everyone. Various factors accumulated, leading to widespread resentment.
As for inside the city, things were not much better. Merchants raising prices effectively squeezed the wealth of the citizens; many lower-class citizens were already starving. The grain distributed by the Veche was also insufficient, because the Veche had to supply grain to both the people inside and outside the city, and also prepare military provisions for the assembled army—the Kiev Grand Duke expected at least ten thousand troops to gather there.
However, recently the Kiev Grand Duke had beheaded several of the most outrageous grain merchants, using their grain and property to appease the restless populace. This immediately caused grain prices in the market to plummet, and the somewhat dangerous situation instantly eased.
The messenger dispatched by Prince Rostislav had already conveyed the news of capturing Tugel's flag, and he also made sure to entrust his contacts in Kiev to spread the news throughout the entire city.
Thus, when Rostislav, returning from the campaign, entered Kiev with the Polovtsian yellow flag, the entire city erupted.
This was the flag of the infamous Tugel! This man was "well-known" in Rus', his name being the one most used by Kiev parents to scare their children. And now, the Kiev Grand Duke's grandson had captured the flag of this villain and brought it to Rus'. The demon whose hands were full of the blood of the people of Kiev had been defeated today!
Moreover, he brought a large amount of spoils and captured many Polovtsy prisoners, including not a few Polovtsy chieftains. The immense value of those thousands of warhorses was clear to everyone present, and the intelligence that the captives could provide showed that he had successfully completed his reconnaissance mission.
The news of defeating such an infamous and powerful enemy greatly diluted the dissatisfaction of the people of Kiev with the strained supplies and their fear of the nomadic army. It also instilled greater confidence in the assembled armies. The morale of both the people and the army could now be put to good use.
Men shouted Rostislav's name, cheering for his martial prowess, and some even joined the hero's company. Women offered kisses to his soldiers.
The soldiers from the Cave Monastery were clearly unaccustomed to this, appearing very passive, which in turn drew bursts of laughter from the crowd.
Rostislav walked through the streets of Kiev amidst the public's welcome, arriving at the Kiev Grand Duke's hall to report his achievements.
The Kiev Grand Duke was naturally very pleased with this; his grandson had performed much better than he had anticipated.
After finishing his audience, Rostislav hastily settled his subordinates and returned to the Red Mansion to see his young wife, Zoe—for a young man in the prime of his life, the frustration of being forced to leave his newlywed wife and the hormonal rush from combat made him feel very pent up.
— — — — — — — —
"Rostislav is indeed very capable. I originally thought he would just bring back a few dozen heads and a few captives, but he brought back Tugel's flag and defeated that disgusting fellow. Ha, I can imagine that bastard's expression; it would probably be even more unbearable for him to know he was defeated by a 16-year-old boy, hahaha."
By the burning fireplace, the Kiev Grand Duke, with fine wine in hand, evaluated his grandson, attended by his Captain of the Guard, Jika.
The fine grape wine the Kiev Grand Duke was drinking was a precious reserve from a Moldavia winery in the south. He usually wouldn't bring it out for ordinary banquets, only for significant days or major events. It seemed that for the Kiev Grand Duke, today was such a day.
His joy was evident. Tugel's renown was built on undermining the Kiev Grand Duke's authority, so seeing this man suffer naturally made the Kiev Grand Duke very happy.
"Kiev Grand Duke, then shall we proceed as previously decided?"
Jika's tone was still as calm as if he were discussing something ordinary, but in reality, the decision they were about to make would have an incredibly profound impact, changing the destinies of countless people.
"Yes, Smolensk will be given to Vishata. Let him be the mayor there. My eldest grandson has proven he deserves more resources."
The Kiev Grand Duke drank his fine wine, adding a weight to the scale in his mind—on Rostislav's side. And what he did today would have extremely far-reaching consequences in the future.