Amidst the chants of the soldiers, the makeshift battering ram hit the iron gate of the main castle, making a huge noise. The gate also trembled violently, but it still stood.
This time we failed to break through the door, but it was expected. Another impact will come soon, and sooner or later we will break through.
From time to time, someone was shot down by arrows falling from the sky, but was immediately dragged behind, and a new replacement immediately took over the vacated position.
As for the crenel from which the arrows were shot, it was immediately baptized by dozens of arrows, and the archer was suppressed and did not dare to show his head.
Rostislav and his soldiers lined up behind the battering ram, waiting for the moment the door was broken open, followed by the subordinates of other Russian dignitaries and North warriors. Everyone knew that the Grand Duke and the King gave Rostis the first prize.
Slavic, no one will compete with him.
Of course, they also exist to clean up the mess in the worst case scenario.
Outside the shooting range of the mountain fort, Yaroslav and Harald pulled up two chairs from somewhere and had a normal discussion there, and the object of their discussion was none other than Rostislav.
"I'm very optimistic about this kid. His appearance reminds me of the heavy cavalry archers of the Great King (referring to the Byzantine Emperor). And the most rare thing is that he is good at fighting and fighting at such a young age."
Harald took the mead handed by his men and poured it into his mouth boldly. The wine flowed all over his beard, but the Norwegian king just wiped it with his sleeve indifferently.
"And that... what is that? Oh, the 'Partner Cavalry' is not bad either. I wish I had a cavalry like this in the south, so I don't have to just watch the bastards on horseback running in front of me to harvest the spoils of war."
Harald has been working for the Maharaja of the Imperial Capital for many years and has seen all kinds of battlefields. What bothers him most is being robbed of trophies by the Maharaja's riders. Every time he encounters that situation, he becomes very upset.
depressed
"This child is really good. He has given my grandchildren a good start."
Compared to Harald's approval, Yaroslav's words were more plain, as if he was talking about something that had nothing to do with him.
Facing his father-in-law's behavior, Harald curled his lips with disdain. Really, why are you pretending to be so familiar? You are obviously very happy. If others don't notice, why can't I notice?
"Okay, tell me, how do you plan to arrange this child."
The ruthless man is too lazy to sing a double act with the wise man, and goes directly to the topic to avoid going around in circles.
"And there is also Vladimir's death. I feel something is wrong about this matter. Have you found anything?"
"My son's death...I think I will get something useful soon. As for Rostislav, I think the land behind the forest is a good place. The tribes there are becoming more and more restless. Bulgar
People are also a little bit ready to move... That land needs a Prince Rurik to take charge."
Yaroslav glanced at his son-in-law with some dissatisfaction. The boy was still like this. He had never changed. He became a king who didn't understand the ruler's "talking skills". He was always so reckless. Sooner or later, he would suffer from this.
"The land behind the forest? You are really willing to send people to a place like that."
Harald was a little stunned. He knew the reputation of the land behind the forest. That land was full of river bends and dense forests, and there were countless villages and tribes that did not listen to orders and did their own thing, even by Ross's standards.
A truly wild place.
"This is to keep him away from the chaos in Kiev. This child is not qualified to participate in the struggle in Kiev after my death. The land behind the forest is closed and remote, where he can wait and see what happens, and then he can be a prince of Ansheng for the rest of his life.
Then he will participate in the political situation in Kiev."
Yaroslav's words were full of the elders' worries about their descendants. He knew very well that he had only a few years to live, and the child would never be able to handle the struggles after his death, so it was better to send him to the land behind the forest.
That kind of remote place, far away from the center of the whirlpool.
"Oh, my father-in-law, why did you even say that you will die in a few years? It is so unlucky."
Although Harald complained in words, he actually agreed with this. The Wise Man's physical condition had long been known to passers-by, and everyone knew that the Grand Duke of Rus had only a few years to live.
"Let's leave those things behind and talk about the present first. Although you have made such an arrangement, can the child really understand what you mean? He is a child who grew up in the city and can afford that.
How miserable is it to live in a remote place like that?"
Harald's problem can be said to hit the core. If a child who grew up in a wealthy city is sent to a remote rural area, the result will either be that the child will hate the person who ordered it, or he will try his best to escape from the poor fiefdom.
"Of course I have to do more than that, but no matter what I do, where things go depends on him."
Yaroslav said slowly, and after finishing speaking, the wise man closed his eyes to rest, pretending that he didn't want to talk more.
When Harald saw that Yaroslav was unwilling to say more, he stopped talking. He just asked the guards to bring mead and drank while admiring the battle in front of him.
Alas, I can only help you so much, my eldest nephew.
As the golden liquid entered his mouth, the King of Norway thought this way.
He is very optimistic about this child, but his political future is really not good, so he can only help as much as he can.
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The battering ram made of the Estonian sacred tree hit the door hard, and each impact made the door tremble. Many Chud people behind the door pressed against the door, trying to offset some of the impact with their bodies.
But every time it staggered open under the impact, the door became increasingly overwhelmed, and it was only a matter of time before it was knocked open.
Everyone knew that their fate was coming, and everyone lined up behind the door, waiting for the moment the door was broken.
Some people picked up spears, swords and axes, others pulled the strings, and everyone was nervously waiting for the last moment.
At this time, Alar, who had changed his armor, came down the stairs, and people automatically made way for him, allowing him to come to the front of the team.
Warlord Chu De waved his long sword to everyone. The hilt of the long sword was inlaid with uncarved amber.
"May the gods protect us."
Aral said this while looking at the door that was shaking under the impact of the battering ram.
As soon as he finished speaking, the door burst open violently, and the tribesmen on top and the reinforcements placed before were bounced away, and the sunlight also shone into the somewhat dark hall.
"Come on!"
The former leader of Chu De roared wildly and rushed towards the door opened under the battering ram, rushing towards the sunshine, towards the shield and sword.