The rendezvous went very smoothly, and Rostislav's troops seamlessly integrated into the main army's formation.
What Rostislav saw at that time was a magnificent spectacle: nobles, citizens, farmers, retainers, Nomads… countless armors, countless weapons, and countless banners displayed together before the world, with the banners of Rurik and God leading it all.
People of all kinds formed this great army; they marched along the main road that the Rus Princes had used to conquer their enemies on the steppe in the past. This was the largest army assembled by Rus in recent decades, and as the massive army moved, heaven and earth seemed to tremble.
Rostislav saw endless lines of infantry, busy servants, silent or arrogant retainers, and riders on warhorses. The essence of the entire South Rus was gathered here, but what Rostislav cared about most were the "local nobles" among them.
The lords of the fortresses, local military and political officials, and leaders elected by farmers formed a group called "local nobles." They contributed one-third of the army to this force. Unlike the commercial magnates of the cities, they were more loyal to the Rurik regime and were willing to bring their soldiers to participate in the conquest, instead of entrusting their troops to subordinates while remaining in the city like many commercial magnates.
Rostislav paid close attention to interacting with these influential local figures whom the city magnates looked down upon. He often drank with them. In Rostislav's view, who understood later history, these people represented the future, the future of feudalization, and maintaining good relations with them could only bring benefits, not harm.
Prince Rostislav rode his horse over a sea of swords and spears, heading towards his grandfather, but as he approached, the first thing he heard was his grandfather's furious roar.
"What? Those two little rascals took the Southwest Rus army and ran ahead of me? Are they fools? Is there something wrong with their heads! God! How could I have such stupid sons!"
Yaroslav's expression was very displeased, his face extremely grim, and the veins on his forehead twitched intermittently. The news brought by the scout had made his mood reach rock bottom.
The kneeling scout merely bowed his head in silence, waiting for the Prince to vent.
In fact, everyone present was like this. Facing the Wise One's wrath, everyone put away their usual rebelliousness, casualness, and defiance. Now the Prince was in a very bad mood, so they had to behave themselves and be careful not to become a punching bag.
The noble subordinates behind the Prince began to discuss in low voices. In these conversations, Rostislav understood what had happened. The problem lay with his two uncles who had been sent to Southwest Rus to gather troops.
His fourth uncle and fifth uncle—the two uncles he had not yet met—Igor and Vyacheslav, were sent by his grandfather to Southwest Rus to gather troops, and they completed their task very well, raising a full 5,000 men. But then problems arose.
In his grandfather's plan, the fourth and fifth uncles should have gathered the Southwest Rus army with the main force, but these two uncles, after arriving at the assembly point, did not wait for their grandfather to arrive. Instead, they directly led their army to Pei City with the intention of relieving the siege.
The Prince was almost fuming when he found out. His main force's advance was a last resort, but these two idiots actually rushed in recklessly, which led to the words just spoken.
The military strength of Southwest Rus was considered an important supplement by his grandfather, but it was lost just like that. As for recruiting from Novgorod, the main reason was that the northern roads were too difficult to travel. By the time the Novgorod army arrived, the battle would have already been over, so he had not initially recruited forces from North Rus'.
Rostislav, understanding the situation, also understood his grandfather's anger. Any commander facing such a situation would be in a terrible mood, and the crucial thing was that he could only be in a terrible mood and could not change the current situation.
"Father, do you need me to go after them immediately?"
His second uncle, Sviatoslav, spoke in his usual short and direct style. This Prince also wrapped himself up like a can, with only his eyes visible after lowering his chainmail veil.
"Forget it, we can't catch them now. Your two brothers, of all people, chose to learn from Harald, and they don't even have Harald's ability. Isn't that just seeking death?"
The Prince also cursed his Norwegian son-in-law. Compared to that reckless style, the Wise One preferred to win through wisdom and strategy. Now, his sons had openly defied military orders, imitating his rash advance. This was simply a slap in his face.
"Ah, Father, don't worry anymore. Perhaps those two can bring victory. Look, our nephew achieved such great feats against the Nomads, and those two have even more people. Maybe it will be another great victory."
It was Izyaslav, the Prince's eldest uncle, who spoke. This Prince was now smiling broadly, speaking good words to the Prince, trying to ease the tension between them, acting like a peacemaker.
"Victory? It'll be a miracle if those two even come back alive. If only they were half as steady as their nephew. These two rascals aren't much older than their eldest nephew!"
The Wise One responded to his uncle with disdain. These two fellows were so impulsive that if the Nomads provoked them even slightly, wouldn't they immediately fall into a trap? The steppe wolves love to set traps.
The Prince couldn't help but wonder why his two sons, also young, made such mistakes, while his grandson was so reliable.
The Prince's words directly choked his uncle, who didn't know how to respond and could only listen to the Prince continue to list his two sons' shortcomings. Fortunately, this didn't last long, because the Prince also knew that doing so was meaningless except for venting a little anger. The Prince ordered to speed up the march to catch up with the Southwest Rus army that had set off first.
The Black Hat Army was all sent out to find traces of the Southwest Rus army or the battlefield where they perished—those were Yaroslav's original words. The Prince was very pessimistic about the future of his two sons.
In stark contrast, many in the army feared that their achievements would be snatched away. In their eyes, the Nomads were vulnerable, a glory waiting to be reaped, and failure was completely impossible.
Rostislav, however, was quite pleased, as no matter what arrangements the Nomads made, someone would be there to test them, so he wouldn't have to foolishly rush in and probe himself.
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Thus, the Rus army accelerated, attempting to catch up with the army that had set off without orders.
Some new recruits were very uncomfortable with the sudden acceleration, but the Prince suppressed their discontent with whips. Yaroslav knew very well when and how to act, and when not to. Now was the time to be strict.
During the march, Rostislav seized the opportunity to observe his two uncles' armies, as after his grandfather's death, they would be potential enemies. For this, he often ran back and forth throughout the army.
If Rostislav were to evaluate his eldest uncle's army, he would only describe it as mediocre. It was just so ordinary, with ordinariness being its greatest characteristic, and the retainers were merely adequate.
However, his eldest uncle did have some Polish Knights under his command. They either rode horses or fought on foot, and their armor was relatively light. It was said that this was an improvement made by the Kingdom of Poland based on recent war experience.
But it was different with his second uncle. His retainers were strictly disciplined, and even ordinary soldiers were well-trained—though it was achieved with military sticks and whips. Most importantly, Rostislav noticed that his second uncle's retainers had an extremely strong trust and admiration for him. This trust and admiration kept their morale high and their will firm.
Rostislav was not surprised by this; historically, his second uncle was the most capable of all the Yaroslavich. He excelled in both civil and military affairs, and he didn't mind getting his hands dirty—historically, his methods for overthrowing his eldest uncle were not honorable.
If he hadn't died so early, he should have achieved even more.
Prince Rostislav knew that in the future, this uncle would undoubtedly be his biggest and most formidable enemy, but for now, with his grandfather still alive, they were still in the same trench, which meant he was a reliable comrade-in-arms he could depend on.
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