As the army advanced, just like Rostislav's previous expedition, traces of surrounding forests became scarcer, and Rus' settlements gradually vanished, replaced by vast open plains. Gradually, the most common sight they encountered was groves of dead trees dotting the wasteland.
Occasionally, they could still see the remains of earthwork fortifications. Last time, Rostislav didn't notice these, but upon inquiry, he learned they were the remnants of fortresses left by the Khazar Khaganate, the former overlords of the steppe, built to levy taxes on Rus'. However, the Khaganate had fallen centuries ago, and these fortifications had long since been abandoned, becoming romantic ruins, though no poets had ever visited them.
Traces of war also became more frequent. Some were ruins of settlements destroyed by Nomads, while others were left by the advancing Southwest Rus forces. At first, there were empty bags and deep ruts, then severely decomposed warhorse carcasses, some even showing bare bones.
They even found signs of combat: shattered shields and broken arrows. Some trees by the roadside still bore the bodies of Nomads, and there were also traces of hastily buried corpses.
It seemed the armies of his two uncles had faced considerable harassment from Nomads, but they had always driven off the enemy and achieved victory.
These signs of victory undoubtedly greatly boosted morale. In their eyes, this was a sign that victory was drawing closer. With such spirits, the soldiers' steps became lighter, and the march seemed less tiring.
Even when setting up camp at night, Prince Rostislav, walking among the tents, could hear soldiers everywhere discussing victory, as if it were already within their grasp. The Church's guard army, however, remained unfazed, focusing only on their duties and organizing their equipment. Unfortunately, there were too few like them.
Prince Rostislav also noticed that the Grand Duke's brow furrowed more and more deeply. The Grand Duke, with his rich experience fighting Nomads, felt increasingly uneasy. Luring the enemy deep was a common trick of the Nomads, and the Grand Duke was certain they were facing exactly that now, but aiding Pei City was essential.
When speaking with Rostislav, the Grand Duke expressed his distress. If the Nomads had charged directly towards Kiev as they usually did, he wouldn't be afraid at all; that was the Rus' home ground. But now they were waiting for the Rus' to arrive, and the Rus' had to come, which was very troubling.
Prince Rostislav was speechless about this; what could he say? The Grand Duke had made very thorough preparations. A large number of wagons were brought into the army, along with many arrows, all in preparation for forming wagon forts. Wagon forts were the most effective method for the infantry-centric Rus' army to counter Nomad cavalry.
The Grand Duke's greatest concern now was his two uncles who had set out earlier. These two were leading the Southwest Rus' army in a reckless charge, and the Grand Duke believed that the Nomads only needed a slight inducement to lead them into a trap.
And the Grand Duke's worries soon proved true. As the Rus' army continued to advance, the scene before them changed.
Rus' graves became more numerous, and dead Nomads became fewer. Eventually, they even saw corpses simply abandoned in the wilderness. The bodies were severely decomposed, but from their bark boots and armor, it was clear they were Rus'.
This caused a shift in the army's mood, with unease washing over them like giant waves, one after another. This seemed to suggest what the army ahead of them had encountered, and it also foreshadowed what they themselves would face next.
The Grand Duke also grew more anxious. He wasn't anxious about a military defeat, but rather that despite all this, his two scoundrel sons hadn't stopped their army to wait for him! They were still advancing, and the steppe swallowed fools like them most readily.
On this day, Rostislav, who was riding forward, heard murmurs and scolding from his personal guards at the front of the army. He looked up and saw three Rus' men hanged from a dead tree by the roadside. Crows circled the tree, occasionally tearing flesh from the dead.
Prince Rostislav rode to the tree. At this time, the surrounding infantry were being driven away by the personal guards, with only a few still standing beneath the tree.
Each of the dead men had a sign hanging from their chest, with hastily scrawled words like "Traitor" and "Deserter." The handwriting indicated that the person who wrote it was in a very bad mood.
"It's Igor's handwriting. It seems the situation at the front is not good. They must have been harassed by Nomads a lot along this route."
Hearing the concise words, Rostislav then noticed that both his uncles were observing beneath the tree, and the one who spoke was his second uncle, Sviatoslav. His second uncle wore a helmet with some steppe-style bas-reliefs, giving him an exotic flair.
"I hope nothing happens to them. Since Vladimir died, Father really doesn't want to see any more brothers suffer... Alas, there's nothing we can do but pray to God. I hope it's not the worst outcome, otherwise, Father really won't be able to bear it."
The wise man's eldest son, Prince Rostislav's uncle Izyaslav, made the sign of the cross. He was not wearing a helmet, and his face was full of sorrow, much like a middle-aged man struggling to maintain his family.
In truth, his uncle was indeed suffering. After his father's death, as the eldest son, he had to shoulder the heavy responsibility of maintaining the family and learning the duties expected of an eldest son.
When in Kiev, his uncle often gathered his brothers, sons, and nephews for banquets to strengthen their bonds. He also had to help the Grand Duke manage state affairs, keeping him incredibly busy every day.
"Isn't this our grand-nephew? How did you get here?"
At this moment, his uncle noticed Rostislav's arrival and greeted Prince Rostislav warmly, while his second uncle also looked over upon hearing the voice.
"I just heard some noise here." Rostislav paused slightly, "Have my uncles discovered something?"
"Oh, that. It's the handwriting left by your uncle Igor. It seems he's in considerable trouble."
His uncle raised his riding crop and pointed at the bodies.
"I know Igor's character. For him to be so exasperated, it means he's facing a very big problem. I can only say, may God bless them."
"Is that so? May God bless them."
Rostislav didn't know how to respond, as he had no particular feelings for his two uncles whom he had never met. But saying such a thing directly would cause problems, so he just uttered a dry platitude.
"Let's not delay here too long. Take the bodies down. Don't let Father see them. Let's hide it for as long as we can."
His uncle slapped his forehead and ordered the three bodies to be taken down. Prince Rostislav naturally agreed instinctively, and his personal guards immediately began to act under his command.
However, Prince Rostislav noticed that while his second uncle didn't object, he subtly shook his head. It seemed this uncle thought the same as him: with the traces along this route being so obvious, could it possibly be hidden from their grandfather?
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