Rise of Rurik

Proclaw finally woke up after being knocked unconscious. His head was still buzzing. It took him a while to realize what happened after witnessing the scene in front of him.

"I...lost the battle."

The leopard skin was stripped off his body, his helmet was also taken off, his hands and feet were tied while he was leaning on the wheel of the carriage, and even his mouth was tied with a rope.

He and several of his cronies were tied together, and standing in front of him was a group of Varyags. They must be Russian horse bandits, even if they are dismounted, their clothes and weapons prove it all.

Everyone also saw the captive's open eyes, even though he suddenly closed them again.

"Stop pretending to be an idiot." Proclaw was kicked violently several times, and he whined and yelled in pain.

"Tell me! Who are you?" The question was asked in Norse.

Then someone shouted impatiently: "If you ask in our language, does this guy understand?"

"It's me." A shorter warrior stepped forward. He was a northern Slav, even the son of a boyar noble.

"Who are you?"

The words changed into Slavic, and Proclaw basically understood it, but how should he answer? His mouth was still tied. He whimpered for a while and finally his mouth was loosened.

"Have you thought about it? You are dressed like a leader. Who are you?"

Originally, Proclaw wanted to arrogantly call himself the leader of Polotsk, but then he thought about how he was being treated as a wild boar and had his hands and feet tied up. .

His silence made the Russians very impatient.

"Is this guy mute?"

"Not necessarily. I'll ask again." That's all. The boyar's son heard the news again, but the other party still kept silent.

"He doesn't understand you?"

"No. I think he's being tough. Just give him another beating."

The soldiers were all talking, as if the torture would make the prisoner speak, so someone picked up a wooden stick and began to beat it, but saw that the prisoner closed his eyes directly, as if he had been appointed.

"Wait a minute!" The son of Boyar stopped his companion. "The boss asked us to make sure they were not beaten to death. This guy doesn't want to talk about it now. There will always be time to talk about it. In the worst case, we will take them back."

"It's really boring." The soldier threw the stick and walked aside angrily.

Proclaw wanted to be beaten to death, but he was still sitting here without the courage to bite his tongue and commit suicide, so he could only wait for an unknown fate.

At the same time, Fisk made great progress in cleaning up the battlefield. A large number of lost arrows were recovered, as were enemy weapons.

Men, women, captured warriors gathered together. The dismounted warriors inspected all the dead bodies with their swords, stabbed the seriously injured, and pulled away the lightly injured. They would deliberately stab the dead body in non-lethal places such as the arm. Those pretending to be dead would easily be exposed and then tied up and taken away.

The battle is over and a large number of enemies have fled into the forest, chasing them is certainly possible but not necessary.

"The fight is over." Quetzal took off his mask and rode forward. The horse was positioned in front of Fisk. The little prairie man with a big pie face dismounted nimbly. Youdao: "These people are really weak and poor. My people didn't find much loot, but they captured some slaves. You... when you get to the Great Lakes of the North, you have to give me some money."

Fisk thought what this guy said was funny: "Are you still thinking of selling slaves? They are really poor. Even if you want to sell slaves, we may not buy them."

"Huh? How do you say this?"

"Let's not talk about it for now." Fisk waved his hand, "Let's see how many slaves we captured."

All the prisoners sat together, and a head count revealed that there were as many as two hundred people.

How many enemies managed to escape? But there were roughly two hundred dead bodies. The battle was fierce, and the people who were actually killed were not outrageous. Fisk's original intention was not to kill them all. He was quite satisfied with the current battle situation.

He gathered his team leaders again and asked everyone: "Are there any casualties in your team?"

No one claimed anyone was killed or seriously injured, but there were a few minor injuries. They were hit by the enemy's losses, but the inferior arrows could only scratch the Ross cavalry, and the minor injuries were nothing.

"Be careful even with minor injuries. We also brought alcohol, so apply it on it. I hope you don't drink it secretly."

The Russians have extensive experience in all kinds of wars. The highly distilled ale is finally turned into a base liquor with a purity exceeding 95°, which is diluted with water for debridement.

Fisk noticed that many of the prisoners were wounded, and it would be a disaster if their injuries were allowed to cause fever. He ordered his subordinates to clean the wounds of the injured and then apply alcohol on them. The injured did not understand, and they screamed in pain after the alcohol was used to clean the wounds. In the eyes of others, this was deliberate torture by the Ross gangsters for fun.

Finally, the soldier reported the situation to Fisk: "The guy in the leopard skin is awake."

"Did they say anything?"

"Said nothing, his mouth was as hard as stone. His eyes were like he was begging us to kill him."

All this was expected by Fisk. He shook his head: "Just let them be tough, at least they won't die, right?"

"Yes. We don't dare to use force."

"Very good. Those guys are not ordinary warriors. You might know a thing or two about Lambart. Let's take them back and we'll find out."

A small-scale battle was originally planned, but the enemy was too weak, so Fisk took advantage of the situation and launched an all-out attack. A mere 150 cavalrymen won the victory with no one killed.

It was not easy to stay here for long, the corpses of the enemy were abandoned, and all the prisoners were taken away.

The captives were like gifts captured alive, bound hand and foot and placed on horseback. The captured pony carriages were also put to use, and a group of captives were placed on them. Desheng's cavalry retreated as quickly as possible, but victory still came at a price.

"Have a good rest after you go back." Fisk ordered loudly on the way back: "Our horses will be fed with the captured grain, and we will have a good sleep. However, you are not allowed to play with the women you caught, otherwise you will be fined with military pay!"

The last request left the soldier speechless. Why not play with those female prisoners? The worst case scenario is that you can buy the captive you like with your own money, and they can become wives and concubines according to the rules set by the king.

This is what Fisk wanted to do, and the soldiers complained and had to give up.

They set out early in the morning, finished the battle by noon, and waited until sunset before the cavalry finally returned.

Vitebsk ushered in the triumphant army, and people standing on high places hurriedly blew horns and waved flags to welcome them.

The soldiers who stayed behind hurriedly greeted them on horseback. Svalgardpo and Wladislav both came. They were surprised that Boss Fisk also escorted many prisoners of war.

At this moment, the captured Proclaw finally saw the target of his battle-the fortress on the large swamp. It's a pity that I came here as a prisoner of war.

All the prisoners were thrown inside the fortress. They were hungry and thirsty and looked extremely haggard, but overall they had no fear, as if they were completely appointed.

A dozen people who were originally wearing leopard skins were specially brought out to wait for their orders.

Fisk walked into a separate room in person. Lambart learned that the Polotsk army was coming early in the morning. He was in a mood of anticipation and worry. Now seeing the bald general again, he looked anxious: "You! We won the battle. ?”

Fisk said with an iron face: "Ross suffered no losses, but a large number of your people were killed."

"This..." Suddenly it felt like a stone was weighing on his heart, and Lambart took three steps back, not knowing what to do.

"Caught some men in leopard skins, just as they came. Do you know them?"

Hearing this, Lambart's heart tightened again: "I recognize it. Those are the soldiers of our big leader. Ah! Maybe the big leader has died in the battle."

"Big boss?" Fisk was suddenly ecstatic, but he seemed to be suppressing this emotion. "Maybe your big leader is not dead. Come on, come and see the prisoner with me, maybe that guy again."

Lambart walked out of the dim house under house arrest with a heavy heart. Under the setting sun, he saw many people sitting helplessly on the ground. His appearance instantly caused a collective commotion among the captives.

Proclaw, who had his eyes closed for this reason, opened them slightly. Even in the dim light of the setting sun, he saw that it was not his nephew who was walking towards him.

"Lambart, this kid is not dead? Can he move freely among the enemies?"

Indeed, Lambart has no restraints, and his current appearance is clearly that of surrender. How did one of the fiercest militants suddenly turn into a traitor? The captured people were shocked and confused.

It was too embarrassing for his nephew to see him like this, so Proclaw lowered his head, but he was easily recognized by Lambart.

"Uncle!" Lambart walked over hurriedly, squatted down and shook Proclaw's shoulders vigorously: "What happened? You...were defeated?"

"Shut up!" Proclaw asked loudly, "What's the matter with you? Are you dead? Are you a traitor?"

"I...I didn't."

Finding a window to vent his anger, Proclaw added: "You must have told the Russians the information. I was defeated and your people were killed, but you still have the nerve to stand here."

Lambart felt like he had eaten a piece of dung. He was very uncomfortable and didn't know what to say.

But Lambart's work was done, and Fisk came and pulled him away. After some questioning, he finally found out that the leader of Polotsk was in his hands, but fortunately he was not killed. Of course, according to Viking values, Fisk expected this guy to die in battle, and his capture was worthy of contempt.

"Your name is Proclaw? Very good. You don't seem to want to talk now? Don't worry, I will let you speak on your own initiative."

Fisk's Slavic accent was a little weird, but the other party could still understand the main content. It seems like a severe punishment? Proclaw looked serious, but he remained silent.

"As expected, it is as hard as a stone. Let me tell you, I am Fisk, the cavalry captain of the Kingdom of Ross. The army you saw is only a small part of Ross. Even so, it is easy to massacre your Polotsk. Then , do you really want Polotsk to disappear forever? Or are you willing to have a good chat with me? I will give you a chance to negotiate. If you don’t speak, you will refuse. If you refuse me, it means that the people of Polotsk must die. .”

Lambart paraphrased these words carefully, and at the same time hurriedly advised: "Uncle, everything has changed. We must survive first, and have a good talk with this group of people. We still have the possibility of survival."

It was incredible that my nephew could say such things. He was completely different. Who knows what kind of soup this kid drank in the Russian camp.

But he had to make a decision, because the bald guy was making a fuss about the lives of the captured personnel.

Silence means destruction, even if Proclaw has realized that the other party is actually asking him to surrender on behalf of the entire Polotsk. You can argue that the so-called alliance of the entire village is not what you say, and you cannot convince the public by making peace without authorization. Can the Russians believe this? They will definitely think it is perfunctory.

In order for his people to see the future sunshine, Proclaw did not want to make stones anymore. He raised his head and spoke in a low voice, like a whispering wolf: "Okay... I am the leader of Polotsk. I am the one who organized the army to conquer you. I... am willing to talk to you."

The down-and-out wolf became a dog, Proclaw lost his energy, and still abused the defeated man unintentionally in Fisk.

He was untied and brought into the room, where boiled wheat was placed before him.

"Are you hungry? Eat something and we'll talk later." Fisk sat cross-legged. He wanted to see if the captured guy would eat the food he brought.

Proclaw knew very well what it meant to eat the food in front of him. The feeling of hunger was acting on him. He was trapped in the prison and had no other choice. In order to save the other captured tribesmen, he could only eat these foods.

The room was slightly dim, with only a few bronze lamp holders filled with gelatinous seal oil, and oil lamps burning slowly to illuminate the room. There were several burly people and an old man sitting in the room.

Old Harald was very surprised when he met the leader of the Polotsk people in this way for the first time. This old guy sat here, acting as a consultant to determine how much truth and falsehood the captives said, and secondly, participating in the meeting as a settler in the Gulf of Riga.

Fisk intends to negotiate peace with Proclaw, so this negotiation is not just an issue between Ross and Polotsk. Of course, it is not so much a peace talk as it is Ross taking advantage of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to order the biggest talker on the other side to declare the surrender of the whole family.

It was true that people were fighting for their own good, so Proclaw remained silent and obeyed the Russians' demands.

Seeing that the other party was listening attentively, Fisk looked to the left and right, and declared his opinion on behalf of Ross as General Ross.

"The Kingdom of Rus orders you Polotsk to surrender immediately and be loyal to Rus from now on. You will pay an in-kind tribute every year and allow Rus troops to station in your territory. To this end, you will receive military protection from Rus, and you can Live with peace of mind in the future, any force that dares to attack you is equivalent to attacking Ross and will be severely punished..."

Nephew Lambart is here, and this boy repeats the words of Ross's bald general, but the words are more kindly spoken in his hometown dialect.

Proclaw found it incredible. These words did not sound like those of a winner, as if the winner was showing cowardice. He even felt a sense of absurdity! If the Russians in Varyag only wanted this, why would the two sides go to war with each other? To be fair, the people of Polotsk didn't think there was anything wrong with living dependent on a strong man.

Now that the main force has been defeated, there are still thousands of soldiers left. As originally expected, those soldiers can't even march without being seen. How can they expect to kill the enemy bravely in the battle? The real war exposed the weakness of Polotsk's army at this moment, and the community no longer had the ability to continue fighting.

Proclaw still felt that the promise given by the winner was too absurd. Seeing his uncle's hesitation, Lambart hurriedly advised: "Uncle, these Russians have given us an offer we cannot refuse. I'm afraid everything is a misunderstanding. We destroyed their corpses and hung their heads high. The Russians don't want this. We can pursue their claims further. We can believe their claims. Surrendering is self-protection. In order for us to still have a future, we surrender."

When Proclaw took a closer look at his nephew's face, he saw that the Russian had a serious face, and his relative had become a lobbyist. Why did this guy go from being the biggest war sect to being the biggest peace sect?

"What's going on with you?" he asked. "If we really surrender, what benefits will you... get?"

At this point, Lambart no longer wanted to worry about the so-called face, "Uncle, I understand. It is impossible for us to take advantage of the Russians. The entire north belongs to the Russians, and the Krivich people in the south (referring to Kiev community) are their allies. As you can see, there are more than just the Varyags of Rus sitting here. I have negotiated with them, you give me the position of leader, and I will be the big leader. "

"You!" Proclaw suddenly realized: "In order to become the leader, how dare you..."

Lambart simply gave up and gritted his teeth: "Even if the tribe calls me a dog that wag its tail to pray for food, I am willing. I just want to be the leader! Just let them call me! This way you are not immoral. Besides, I We also want to protect the lives of the people, and the Russians support me as the leader, so that we can restore peace from now on. This is of course a bit humiliating, but it is better than the destruction of the entire clan."

So the only purpose of my nephew's resolute war at that time was to gain power, and he would do anything to gain power? In his heart, Proclaw despised his nephew's words. In his mind, he found that he had no choice. He could still sit here only because of his use value.

From Ross's point of view, Fisk was happy that the captured Lambart was willing to be a lobbyist in order to obtain the power granted by Ross. Seeing that the time had come, Fisk was talking about his goal again.

"Surrender! Polotsk people, as long as you surrender, all the captured people will be released immediately, and you can go home. Our cavalry will also go directly to your villages and communities to declare conquest. You must all give up. Resist so we can make sure not to kill anyone again.”

"Is this true? No more killing?"

"It's absolutely true. I can immediately order the release of the prisoners, give them food, and let them go tomorrow." Fisk said with his chest raised.

"I want to see you actually do it."

"Then we'll see. You'll see it soon."

"Okay. As long as you do this, I will declare my surrender."

Fisk did what he said, and the soldiers who got the order untied the prisoners. These hungry people will be locked up in some vacant rooms at night. They are all given some food that can only satisfy their hunger. It is not to say that they are full, but at least they can relieve their hunger.

Both Proclaw and Lambart saw all this with their own eyes. Lambart had some doubts at first, but now there is no doubt about it.

Not to mention being moved, Proclaw only felt that the Russians were only keeping their verbal promises. He could not completely trust the other party, but at least he saw hope. In fact, it doesn't matter whether they declare surrender now. Looking at the wooden castle camps in this swamp, there are cavalry everywhere. They could easily destroy Polotsk as long as they gathered their troops, but they did not do so.

"Okay, I am willing to surrender. I am willing to give up my position as leader. As for whether the leaders of those villages agree to my abdication and hand over power to my nephew, I have no control over it." Proclaw finally told Fisk .

This promise has satisfied the needs of the Ross army. It happens that many prisoners who have been released and given food are here. Taking this opportunity, Lambart just gives a lecture on becoming the great leader.

have no choice? Confused? Angry? compromise? Various emotions are intertwined. People who have lost their fighting spirit hope to go home and live a stable life. They never want to fight again, especially against the tough Russians.

Since Lambart claimed to be able to satisfy everyone's demands to go home, they only had to recognize Proclaw's defeat and abdication and support Lambart's ascension, even though they knew that Lambart was essentially a puppet supported by the Russians.

From Lambart's point of view, he knew that he was essentially an agent of Ross's development, and the foundation of his rule as a big leader was naturally unstable. He needs to accomplish some feats, such as ending the war and taking the released prisoners home.

Please remember the first domain name of this book: . :