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Chapter 194 - Chapter 194: Thoughts on Hometown

As Rostislav's retinue advanced, its sheer scale drew all eyes.

The impressive size was not due to Rostislav's own retinue being particularly large; even with military servants, the Prince's contingent numbered only about six hundred.

It was primarily due to the merchant caravans attracted to them. The opportunity to travel with the Prince was extremely rare, meaning the journey would be largely safe, and so more and more caravans joined.

Moscow's prosperity in recent years had attracted many merchant caravans, drawn by the goods produced in Moscow.

However, because the production of Moscow's many guilds often struggled to match the demands of the caravans, many merchants waited there for their orders to be completed, thus creating this scene. After all, waiting a few days after receiving the goods was no problem.

Pilgrims from Northeast Rus' also followed the Prince's retinue. Their goal was to make a pilgrimage to Kiev, which was, after all, the seat of the Rus' Church, their spiritual capital. It was said that under the dome of the Saint Sophia Cathedral in Kiev, any sin could be redeemed.

For these pilgrims, following the Prince's retinue was the safest option, as most of them were destitute.

Leading such a large retinue, Rostislav's speed naturally could not be fast. However, he had ample time, allowing him to travel slowly with these civilian groups, which was also an opportunity to display his power.

When such a retinue set up camp, the scene was like an army encampment. Countless tents covered the visible land, people lit bonfires, roasted the food they carried, and swept clean all edible plants and huntable animals from the surroundings.

And people continuously joined the retinue, as it was always safer to travel with a large group.

The wilderness of Rus' was never safe, as who knew if those villages and tribes would suddenly act as bandits?

Things in the wilderness, besides those who experienced them, who else would know? The countryside was inherently closed off, and most of the time, various villages and tribes remained separate from each other.

Rostislav's accompanying retinue grew larger and larger, which reminded the Moscow Prince of the scene many years ago when his grandfather traveled from Novgorod to Kiev. At that time, his grandfather was the leader of it all.

And now, such a scene unfolded around him; he was the leader of this retinue, which made Rostislav feel something—this something was called power. The feeling of manipulating the world with power was truly wonderful.

However, he did not dwell on it for too long. What was the point of thinking about such things when there was nothing else to do? It was meaningless. It was better to honestly conceive a novel.

Yes, a novel. Rostislav now decided to start conceiving a novel, one that would make him famous for generations to come.

He had been considering this for a long time, and shortly after embarking on his journey south, he made a definitive decision.

This was Rostislav's ambition: he wanted to become the author of books that future students would be required to read; he wanted to become a significant presence in literary history.

Such an achievement was far greater than any civil or military accomplishment. Rostislav knew that his highest achievement in life would at most be to unify the land of Kievan Rus' and make it a regional power under his rule. If so, his reputation would at most spread only within the lands he governed.

But if he could achieve something groundbreaking in literature, becoming world-renowned would be no problem at all.

So the Moscow Prince pondered how he should write his novel whenever he had free time. He initially decided on a story that would showcase the power struggles among the nobility.

In this story, he would infuse various viewpoints appreciated in later generations, such as admiration for independent women, and the extremely rare humanitarian concern of this era.

Of course, the most important was innovation in writing structure. As someone from a later era, many common writing methods he knew from the future would be epoch-making innovations in this timeline. All he had to do was incorporate them into his novel.

Furthermore, conceiving a novel could also pass the boredom of the journey. After all, every day was either riding or moving forward, and the scenery had been seen too many times and become too familiar. So, to pass the time, he had to find something to do.

Yan and Meshko, on this journey, chatted quite happily. Yan was now completely free of the despondency he felt at the start, as he was a young man, still younger than Rostislav, filled with excitement at the prospect of seeing his father again.

As for Meshko, he simply found the gathering of people very interesting. He would always wander around the camp, looking at the scenery. The Pole's former arrogance and isolation had now largely disappeared.

However, not all the sights along the way made Rostislav feel bored. Sometimes, when he saw certain scenes, Rostislav would be very happy and immersed in them.

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"Ah, I love this scene of prosperity."

Passing through a field, Rostislav looked at the crops being harvested in the endless farmland. The Prince felt joy, and knowing that all of this was built by new immigrants to Northeast Rus', his heart was even happier.

Not far away was a water mill, which was Rostislav's property. The saint george slaying the dragon banner, representing the Prince's authority, flew over the mill, and several families had already moved near the mill.

The miller who managed the mill was once a personal guard under Rostislav. After being injured, the Prince arranged this job for him to support himself. This was a very lucrative job, after all, the amount of "loss" could be controlled.

He was also the Prince's authorized representative in this area, an embodiment of the Moscow government's power in the countryside.

Unfortunately, however, this only served as an informant's role.

As the water flowed, the mill tirelessly operated, the waterwheel continuously bringing water to a higher point, then generating power to turn the mill, just like a diligent mule.

The nearest village was near the mill, built on a road leveled by the Prince's order, no more than a hundred meters from the mill. The village's architecture had a somewhat southern style, and the villagers' accent also carried a southern flavor, making it a very typical southern immigrant village.

Many farmers queued at the mill, where they would pay a portion of their grain as compensation, and then the mill would grind their grain into flour.

As the Prince's retinue passed through the road cutting across the farmland, many farmers stopped their work and stood up from the fields, watching the vast retinue. Farmers and passersby closer to the road stood on both sides, removing their hats to salute the nobles.

Many also looked on with worry. They saw the immense size of the retinue and feared it might trample their fields.

Quite a few people had already started looking for weapons, and others planned to find more men. If these people trampled their fields, they would directly fight, even against the Prince's retinue. They would fight desperately to protect the crops in their fields.

However, Rostislav had already made arrangements. The Prince would not allow the wheat to be trampled, nor would he allow it to be stolen. More than half of his personal retinue were dispatched to carry out this task.

And under the command of so many armored warriors, naturally no one dared to disobey; they could only obediently queue up and walk on the main road.

"This is a prosperous village, Rostislav, and all of this is your achievement."

Yan also looked at the scene the Prince was observing, then spoke, his words filled with sincere praise.

In Yan's view, it was Rostislav's efforts that led to this prosperous scene.

This was also the common view of development in this era: everything was the ruler's achievement. But Rostislav had a different perspective on this.

"Yan, you certainly know how to flatter me." Rostislav was not fond of flattery, and even felt a slight displeasure.

"I merely provided a little guidance; it's nothing, and — never mind, never mind."

Rostislav had intended to say something, but then he swallowed his words. He had wanted to speak about the importance of farmers, and how farmers created all of this.

But considering that this was an era that regarded plunder and exploitation as natural and right, his words would truly be out of place.

Moreover, he was a typical exploiter and oppressor, so Rostislav still kept silent. When he spoke those words, he always felt a certain irony, an irony directed at himself.

Especially when he considered the content of the novel he was planning, that sense of irony became even stronger. He understood that such emotions were superfluous and ridiculous (in this era), but within his heart, such emotions still inevitably appeared from time to time.

And what Rostislav was most grateful for was that these emotions only caused him a slight discomfort and shame, and could not make him do anything foolish that would betray his class. He was not a person dominated by emotions.

The influx of these thoughts made Rostislav somewhat annoyed, and when annoyed, this scene of harvest no longer seemed so pleasing to him.

At this moment, he thought of his wife, and a feeling of longing suddenly welled up in his heart.

Rostislav missed his wife's embrace, missed his son's small face. The warmth brought by his family was so powerfully attractive at this moment, an attraction that made him feel as if he was about to leave in the next moment.

Rostislav did not want to leave his little nest in Moscow. He was very satisfied with everything he had built in Moscow. Many times he thought, it would be quite good to live out his life in Moscow just like this.

But in the end, he still stifled this laissez-faire thought. For example, this trip: the Prince was very reluctant to leave his wife and children, but the pursuit of ambition still led him to embark on the journey.

This matter with Hungary was very important, and for him, it was also a stepping stone, his first opportunity to perform on the international stage. How could he miss it?

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