"Truly, I didn't expect it to be so easy…"
Aleph couldn't help but sigh as he rode his horse along the main road of Northeast Rus'.
Although his subordinates and the Khan were with him, their team was surrounded by groups of Rus' cavalry and infantry, yet he remained unfazed.
This team was currently traveling on the newly leveled dirt road in Northeast Rus', where skeletons could occasionally be seen along the roadside, some even hanging in the wind.
However, these were traces from a long time ago, at least a month prior.
These Rus' soldiers were very organized; Aleph initially thought they had only encountered ordinary Rus' troops, but the truth told them that these were elite Rus' soldiers, and specifically, elite Rus' soldiers waiting for them.
Ever since the news of the Bulgar coup arrived, the Moscow Prince had deployed a hundred elite soldiers to the border, awaiting the arrival of Bulgar exiles.
Recalling the scene and the experience, Aleph couldn't help but sigh at how smoothly this journey had gone.
After the traitor Mahad's forces retreated, Aleph had to face the Rus' who surrounded them without a word.
Aleph was truly very nervous when he encountered the Rus'; his men were outnumbered and exhausted, and most importantly, they lacked reliable armor.
Their enemies were fully armed, and who knew how many more were hidden in the shadows; fighting them would be like throwing an egg against a rock.
The Khan's trusted aides initially thought they would encounter some trouble, but in fact, after the Rus' leader listened to their words, he accepted them and offered to escort them to Moscow.
Only then did the Khan's trusted aides realize that these people had been waiting for them for a long time, sent by a young man named Rostislav.
Aleph could only sigh, marveling at how unfathomable that young man was, having even prepared for their potential exile.
But thinking of the great flood in Kashin and the Rus's satisfying counterattack, he was no longer surprised; after all, this was a formidable young man, and Aleph reaffirmed his conviction that he must not become his enemy.
The leading officer of these Rus' was Vasily Khrensky, the shining knight walking at the very front, his long-sleeved chainmail glinting in the sunlight.
Aleph remembered that during his last campaign against Rus', this man had been handed over to them by a Rus' traitor; he clearly remembered this as well, but he didn't say much.
This knight was usually very arrogant, but he was humble when facing him and the Khan's son, and he was very talkative, though his respect was not due to admiration, but merely due to the noble bloodline of the Dulu Family, and he was merely a beneficiary.
Aleph remembered that this man had once asked his surname, wanting to know which Bulgar noble family he belonged to, and Aleph told him he had no surname, that he was merely a servant from the Dulu Family who had risen through his own efforts.
Although there wasn't much change on Vasily's face, Aleph saw contempt deep in his eyes, the contempt of a superior, but on the surface, his humility was still maintained.
Vasily's deputy, a Gael named Domnal, who always wore a blue cloak, was much more sincere than him.
This man was not only a warrior but also a poet; whenever they marched, he would strum his lute and sing beautiful poems.
"Where are the flowers? The old things are gone.
Where do the flowers go? Do not mention the old things.
Or ask for the flower's trace, the quiet maiden's bud.
They appear repeatedly, without warning.
Where does the quiet maiden go? The old things are already understood.
Where does the quiet maiden depart? Do not abandon the old things.
Or ask for the maiden's place, the young man's wife.
It becomes commonplace, the heart consents.
Do not ask where the young man should be,
Alone, heartbroken, daring not to forget.
Who can tailor the iron armor in the army?
Upon triumphant return, no familiar faces are seen,
Only withered flowers remain on the mound.
Next year, busy picking flowers again."
Just as he was thinking, the poem flowed into his ears again; the Gael's Rus' language had a strong accent, but this filled his poetry with an exotic aura.
The poem seemed to tell of a widow grieving for her husband who died in battle; Aleph was somewhat touched, having witnessed countless such tragedies in his life on horseback.
As the poet finished plucking the last note, his satchel suddenly wiggled.
Then a small black head popped out; it was a small black cat, its eyes curiously looking around, but the next moment it was pressed back in by the rider.
Domnal always carried a small black cat with him; no one knew why he did so.
After marveling at the Rus', Aleph turned his attention to the land he had conquered; to his surprise, only a month had passed since the end of the battle, and order in Northeast Rus' had basically returned to normal.
Yes, returned to normal; there were no signs of slaughter on the roads, nor any roaming bandits.
This was very unusual; in Aleph's impression, the chaos after a war would take at least a month or so to clear up, but looking at the current situation, order had been restored shortly after the war ended.
Upon inquiry, Aleph learned that shortly after the battle ended, Rostislav had dispatched his elites to conduct a week-long sweep of Northeast Rus', eradicating bandits and deserters from the battlefield, and making the various villages and communities, which had been eager for trouble due to the war, abandon their petty schemes.
Normal economic activities returned at the fastest speed, and there was even immigration.
Under the Prince's call and the promise of tax exemption, many nomads living in the forests moved to the villages that had been slaughtered and destroyed.
After all, although the villages were gone, the land developed by these villages remained, and these nomads were spared the hardship of clearing new land.
Aleph had seen several such villages along the way, as the road they were taking was also the path the Bulgar Army had marched on; these villages had now regained vitality.
Different, yes, Aleph felt that Rostislav was very different; this young Prince seemed to not only understand the battlefield but also how to govern and how to develop.
For such a ruler to become the ruler of Northeast Rus' was truly terrifying; if he governed this land, the threat to Bulgar…
Out of habit, Aleph couldn't help but think, but the next moment he slapped his head; why bother with such concerns in his current status? Now the Khan is Akad, that usurper, let him worry about it.
And thinking of the usurpation, Aleph couldn't help but wonder if they could get help from that Prince; he was the only one they could seek help from now.
Although the hope was slim, they still had to ask; at the very least, the Rus' must take them in.
With such thoughts, the outline of Moscow appeared before Aleph's eyes; looking at the incredibly prosperous Christian city, he knew he had reached his destination.
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