When the Norsemen awoke from their hangovers and revelry, they were shocked to find that yesterday's defeated foes had returned to the city walls, and their forces were even greater.
As the ancient sages once said, pleasure invites disaster, and now this saying has proven true once again.
Rostislav and others followed the Prince to the city walls; many nobles were still in the throes of their hangovers and revelry, but facing war, they tried their best to suppress their discomfort and not let it show.
Rostislav was also not in good shape; he had gone to bed very late last night and was woken up by the war horn early this morning, but fortunately, a young man's body can withstand hardship, so it was nothing to him.
He was now standing beside the Prince, with Vishata on his other side, while the nobles argued about the war behind them.
"This scale… it's not just Alar's Chud; have the Vikings and Karelians come too?"
Vishata stood on the city wall, resting his hand on the wooden battlements, his expression very grim. As a Novgorod noble, he was well aware of the situation of the surrounding peoples and could discern the enemy's composition at a glance.
Rostislav looked where Vishata pointed, and all he saw were Chud warriors wrapped in furs, but upon closer inspection, he could see armor from the North, belonging to the Norsemen from the northwestern islands.
At a glance, a chilling aura filled the air; the barbarians were making tense preparations for the siege. Seeing their busy movements, Rostislav knew they were serious.
"Is this Alar's trump card? So many people have come. This barbarian has really gone all out this time. I wonder what he promised to get all this."
The Prince narrowed his eyes, his words carrying an air of 'as expected.' Rostislav keenly noticed this emotion.
"Grandfather, did you know it would come to this?"
Rostislav instinctively asked what he was thinking.
"You could say I came for this, for now."
Yaroslav's eyes gleamed with a different light, his words implying that everything was under his control.
This made both Rostislav and Vishata's faces flash with shock. The Prince had always known this was a trap? Then why would he put himself in danger?
The wise man saw their confusion. The Prince, known for his wisdom, merely smiled calmly and then began his explanation. Since it had come to this point, there was no need to conceal anything anymore.
"For the past few years, the North has always concerned me greatly. Alar's rise was too sudden, and someone in Kiev seems to be colluding with Estonia, and I also discovered some unusual movements of weapons and armor... Very interesting, all of this is very interesting."
"I took the opportunity of my son's death to come to the North to investigate this matter, and also to resolve the hidden danger of Alar, and to see if anyone from Kiev would suddenly jump out. As a result, shortly after I arrived in Novgorod, Alar came knocking."
As he spoke, Rostislav saw a hint of gloom on his grandfather's face; he seemed very displeased about something, but this emotion was quickly masked.
"Alar is a cautious and cunning man. Vladimir's report helped me understand him. Such a person would never act without making thorough preparations. The battle at Yuryev's city walls was clearly a bait."
"Since you already knew there was a conspiracy behind this... why did you still enter the city?"
Vishata composed his expression and continued to ask. He still couldn't understand why the Prince would jump into this trap.
"Because if I don't enter the game, how can they act? If I don't enter the game, how can I know what they will do?"
Yaroslav simply threw out this statement, leaving Vishata stunned, and then continued to look at the Chud army outside the city.
But the Prince immediately realized what his grandfather was saying. He remembered the ambush against him and the chainmail on the enemies that came from Kiev.
Rostislav's heart stirred. He understood that his grandfather was using himself as bait to draw out some people in the shadows. Thinking this way, his uncles not heading north this time was probably also part of his grandfather's plan...
However, for him, what was more important now was that his grandfather had realized some issues, and his own affairs just happened to align. So now was the best opportunity to tell his grandfather everything.
"Grandfather, I have something I must report to you."
Rostislav mustered his courage and met his grandfather's sweeping gaze.
"Oh? Speak."
As Rostislav narrated, the Prince, who had been observing the besiegers, no longer looked at the Chud encampment but at his grandson, his gaze becoming increasingly serious.
Facing his grandfather's serious gaze, Rostislav couldn't help but feel a hint of pressure, but he continued speaking, because this concerned whether he could find the clue to the mastermind who killed his father and also wanted to kill him!
"This is truly... astonishing."
After listening to everything Rostislav narrated, a complex emotion flickered in Yaroslav's eyes.
"Vladimir's death... I also wondered if it was done by the person I wanted to uncover, but there was no clue to prove it, and dying in battle is incredibly common. I also didn't want to... Alas, it seems that person has great ambitions."
Yaroslav placed his hand on his grandson's shoulder and patted Rostislav. And perhaps because he thought of something, the Prince's mood became a bit low.
"You've worked hard, my child. It must have been very difficult to keep all this bottled up, but I know now."
The Prince's words finally brought Rostislav relief. He had carried this pressure alone for so long, and now he could finally speak of it, and he had told his powerful grandfather.
Yaroslav's expression held some sadness; he had only just realized how much pressure this child had endured, and for a moment, he was speechless.
"Prince, please allow me to speak. There are more urgent matters now."
Just then, Vishata's voice suddenly emerged, interrupting their conversation. The Novgorod noble was also very surprised by the many hidden details behind the death of his friend Vladimir, but compared to that, there was an even more important matter now.
"Now the enemy outside the city outnumbers us, and the soldiers are very uneasy. How do you plan to solve this problem? I believe that since you willingly jumped into the trap, you must also have a corresponding backup plan. Which Prince from Kiev will lead an army to reinforce us?"
As Vishata said, the most important thing now was to stabilize morale; the soldiers below were filled with unease.
"It's not one of my sons who will come; it's not suitable for them to come this time either. Just hold out for a few more days, and then that person should arrive. Tell the soldiers just that: I only need them to hold out for a week, and someone will come to save us."
This answer made Vishata's face twitch unnaturally. How could the Prince still be hiding things at a time like this, and with that playful expression on his face?
"Your will."
Finally, Vishata could only say this, his words full of helplessness.
But what no one saw was that when he turned to leave, a hint of relief appeared on his face; he finally didn't have to listen to their sensitive topic anymore.
Vishata had realized earlier that this was an internal dispute of the Rurik Dynasty, and it was not something he should know. More precisely, it was something that Yaroslav, as the patriarch of the Rurik Dynasty, should not know that he knew—at least openly, it had to be this way.
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