In the headquarters of the Northern Army, Rostislav was looking at the map. This was a topographic map of the area produced by the Smolensk people over the years. Veshata had long expected that this place would become a battlefield, so the map was produced early.
It's done and can be used directly.
However, from Rostislav's point of view, this map is still a bit abstract, and there is no scale, but it is better than nothing, and the map is indeed very detailed, so just use it for make do.
Looking at the map, Rostislav's thoughts suddenly drifted to his son. The prince had just placed his son Rurik under the command of Jan, and Jan was responsible for commanding the heavy cavalry of Northeast Rus.
This boy is also 15 years old and has reached the day of his first battle. However, many people have opinions on this. They think that the son of a prince should lead an army alone because he is under the leadership of a noble. Isn't that what Rostislav was like back then.
Rostislav, on the other hand, could only smile bitterly. That boy definitely didn't have that ability. His situation was unusual, so let him work as a subordinate under Yang and absorb the experience.
Yang is a veteran who has experienced many battles on the battlefield. There is absolutely no problem in following his command. His son will definitely benefit a lot from this in the future.
I thought so, but for some reason, Rostislav had an image in his mind of his wife entrusting him to take care of their son during the expedition, and Rurik's two younger brothers pestering his elder brother to ask him to bring them back trophies.
Rostislav shook his head and wondered what he was worried about. It was only natural for the prince's son to go into battle. If the battle failed, it would just prove that he was not suitable to be a Prince Rurik. He continued to look at the map.
The map is now filled with various signs, all of which are the arrangements of the northern and southern armies. Currently, the main force of the northern army is stationed in Smolensk, enjoying the shelter of the city and in a relatively safe state.
The main force of the opposing southern army was stationed in front of Smolensk, assuming an offensive posture, so they were easily harassed by the wandering troops of the northern army - and this was indeed the case.
As for various scattered small troops, they were scattered everywhere between the two armies, occupying every key point between the two armies. During this period of time, they continued to conquer each other and saw each other crazily.
The headquarters was bustling with people, with generals in armor and civilian officers busy with their respective tasks.
The workload of managing such an army is extremely exaggerated. Countless tasks are produced every day. Messengers and messengers come and go, bringing news and orders.
No matter how many times Rostislav saw this scene, he could not suppress his sigh. Fortunately, he had specially deployed a professional team, otherwise he would still be in a hurry - although the cost was that the bureaucracies in Moscow and Novgorod had all been destroyed.
It took more than half of the money, but he still felt it was worth it.
Rostislav sketched the shape of the battlefield in his mind. In the past few days, he had visited every place suitable for fighting, and he already knew these things in his mind.
There are many places in the Smolensk area suitable for large-scale operations. Due to the local water and land transportation system, many places in this area have been leveled, making it extremely suitable for large armies to deploy.
Suddenly, there was a loud noise outside the tent. Rostislav didn't pay attention at first. He just thought that some troops were returning from the expedition, so he didn't pay attention to it.
But when he looked up, the prince of Moscow saw a tall and strong old man with blood on his armor.
This made Rostislav put the map back on the table, and pressed the map with a dagger, "Uncle Veshata, you have really worked hard this time."
Before he could change his clothes, Vishatara grabbed a camp chair and sat on it carelessly.
"It's nothing. I made Svyatoslav's little boys so angry this time that they really laughed to death. They couldn't even touch my tail. But I heard that the Southern Army troops took advantage of this opportunity.
They attacked our logistics line. Although we managed to hold on in the end, the losses were still considerable."
"It's just a trivial matter, Uncle Visatta. I have been prepared for it for a long time and will never give them a chance."
Rostislav didn't pay much attention to it, it was just some daily battles. Although the scale of this attack was a bit large, it was still within the range of psychological endurance and was nothing at all.
In comparison, the Northern Army caused more trouble to the Southern Army. After all, the locals in Smolensk were on their side and had made so many maps in advance.
However, the Northern Army's patrol force suffered a heavy blow recently. It was entangled during the ambush of Monomakh in Pereyaslav, and then was beaten by the Southern Army's cavalry.
The Chude camp was severely damaged by this attack, which made Rostislav very regretful. These Chude people could have played more roles on the battlefield, but now they can only be sent back to Northeastern Rus for repairs. Rostislav is really
He didn't want this team that had followed him since his debut to end. He still remembered the Chude people who were originally selected from the prisoners of war.
Back to the present, the Prince of Moscow said as he took a glass of kvass from the table and gave it to Vishata, who also drank it in one gulp.
"By the way, Rostislav, when I returned to the camp, I met two people who came from afar. They were planning to report, but I stopped them. We agreed to give you a surprise. You two, come in, give me
A surprise for our Prince of Moscow.”
Visatta changed the topic, and his words made Rostislav raise his eyes. Since it was at this time, could those two people be...
"Hahaha, Rostislav, I haven't seen you for many years. You have grown so old and become such a powerful prince! I knew you would definitely be able to make a difference. Of course I was not wrong about the person!"
A bold and rough voice sounded, and Rostislav realized this immediately. Who else could it be? Of course it was King Harald of Norway. Among the people he knew, he was the only one who had this voice.
Already.
Harald was still as strong and tall as Rostislav remembered him, with thick hair and beard, and he was wearing a chain mail. The King of Norway gave Rostislav a warm hug, and Rostislav only reached the king's shoulders.
The exertion left Rostislav breathless.
"Uncle Harald, long time no see."
After he recovered, the Prince of Moscow said, with a smile on his face. This uncle is still so kind.
"As the letter said, I brought a total of three thousand people, half of whom followed me all the way from the imperial capital. They are all elites from hundreds of battles. The young men are eager to fight on the battlefield. This has lasted for decades.
A battle that is rare, this is an opportunity to ascend to Valhalla."
Rostislav decisively ignored the part about "Valhalla" and still had a smile on his face.
"Oh, by the way, Rostislav, there is a young man over there. Ha, coming to think of it, I thought he was a woman."
Hearing Harald say this, the Prince of Moscow also subconsciously realized who it was, and then he saw Adam's face, which was more beautiful than a woman. In fact, after these years, Adam's face had some beard, but people always
Will subconsciously ignore those beards.
As usual, they hugged each other. Adam was much stronger than before, and his body was still full of muscles, but he was still thin compared to them, and he still looked like a woman standing next to them.
"Lord Rostislav, it's a pity that I only brought three thousand people. You know, I can't bring too many people to Bulgar, but he can guarantee that the people who come are all elites, not simply recruited farmers.
Many of them are Bulgar wine estate owners, they have money, equipment, some armed men, and they are very determined to fight."
Adam was a little apologetic. He felt quite sorry that he didn't bring too many people this time, but due to the situation, he could only bring so many people. If there were any more, the situation would be a bit unstable.
The domestic situation now relies on the cooperation of Aleph and Bishop Tiberius to suppress it, which makes Adam a little regretful. It would be great if these two people could be brought here.
"No, Khan, just come. There is nothing better than friends on the battlefield."
Rostislav knew that although Adam said so humbly, the power he brought was really not weak. The prince of Moscow dared to confirm that Bulgar’s elite must be here, which was definitely no less than Harald’s three thousand.
The power of people.
Veshata watched their exchange with a smile. The mayor of Smolensk was really happy for Rostislav. There is nothing more gratifying than having comrades join him during the war.
"Okay, Rostislav, when will the war start? I came here just to fight. I have heard of Svyatoslav's reputation. Three thousand defeated twelve thousand. I can't help it.
Let’s go and see what kind of person he is now.”
Harald's words came in, his voice full of fighting spirit and impatience, full of desire to go to the battlefield, just like a berserker.
"Uncle Harald, wait a minute, Svyatoslav will definitely not be slow. When the time comes, you can fight wantonly on the battlefield."
The prince of Moscow smiled bitterly. The King of Norway was powerful, but his enthusiasm for the battlefield was really a headache.
"Then I'll wait. Don't make me wait too impatiently. I'm going to see my subordinates first and take a look around the battlefield."
After Harald finished speaking, he walked out, leaving the others behind. Rostislav and Adam smiled at each other, and then sat together drinking and chatting about their experiences with each other these days.
The elders would interject a few words from time to time, and the atmosphere was very harmonious.