After listening to Tiberius, Rostislav nodded in relief. The man before him was intelligent, someone who knew what to do.
Since that was the case, he didn't need to worry; entrusting the conversion of the Bulgar to this Greek was not an issue.
Rostislav also breathed a sigh of relief. With these people, he could recall the personnel he had previously assigned to Adam.
He wanted to return these people to the Moscow Church as soon as possible, so that Bishop Luka wouldn't keep nagging him.
However, as this thought flashed through his mind, Rostislav looked at the Greek, a different kind of light shining in his eyes.
The reason for this light was simple: he also needed some support.
"Lord Tiberius, I wish to inquire, those many people who came with you, they weren't forcibly ordered to go to Bulgar, were they?"
The Moscow Prince's idea was set on these people. If he could absorb them, the Moscow's shortage of intellectuals would be greatly alleviated.
"Many people here are not members of the Church; they are just unfortunate souls who lost in political struggles."
Tiberius glanced at the large group behind him, and a knowing smile appeared on his face. How could he not understand Rostislav's meaning?
"They were merely assigned to exile in the North; no one specified exactly where. In fact, when we passed through Kiev, many wealthy people managed to pull strings and stay in Kiev, so Lord Rostislav, feel free; I have no objections. The Church's warriors will not obstruct you in any way."
Tiberius's subtext was clear: as long as they were not members of the Church, he wouldn't, and couldn't, interfere.
This was exactly what Rostislav liked to hear, so he, too, showed a knowing smile.
The two looked at each other for a moment, then exchanged some pleasantries, such as inviting the distant imperial capital delegation into Moscow. Finally, they both turned their horses in unison and rode into Moscow.
As they moved, joyful music was played, signifying Moscow's welcome to these distant guests.
The roads within the city were filled with Moscow soldiers, who maintained order.
Behind the soldiers were commoners walking or standing. Some were very curious about these distant guests, while others merely glanced and continued their work.
As for these Greeks, their attitude towards Moscow was one of disdain. After all, how could people from a great city like the imperial capital look down on such a small, barbarian town in the distant lands?
The only thing that brought them some comfort was that the city wasn't covered in sewage and reeking everywhere, and the streets were relatively clean.
However, most of these people's faces still showed despair, because they would have to spend their entire lives in this land, with no chance of leaving—those who had the ability were already in Kiev.
And those from the Church were even more despairing; they still had to continue eastward, to Bulgar, a land filled with followers of Allah.
But many were filled with optimism and fervor. To ensure the conversion of Bulgar, the Patriarch had sent many zealots here. They were the backbone of future evangelism.
However, when these people saw Red City, their expressions softened considerably. In this rural cesspool (as the Greeks called it), the city behind the brick and tile walls still had some semblance of civilization—it was mostly brick and tile buildings, and full of imperial capital style.
The distinguished guests from the imperial capital delegation were accommodated in the guest rooms of Rostislav Palace, while ordinary people could only pitch tents in the open spaces within Red City.
However, no one cared about these things at the moment, because Rostislav had prepared a grand welcoming ceremony for these distant guests, a grand banquet inviting all of Red City to participate.
Of course, ordinary citizens could also attend this banquet; as long as they were willing to come to Red City, they would have a place.
The open spaces within Red City were quickly filled with chairs, occupied by Rus' and Greeks. Then, various large and filling dishes, as if they were free (which they indeed were), were brought out.
As the food and drink went down, the subtle mutual hostility between the Rus' and the Greeks immediately vanished. Now, these people were talking and drinking merrily in languages the other side couldn't understand.
As for the banquet in Rostislav Palace, it was much more reserved. People sat in the spacious and grand banquet hall, which was now filled with tables, covered with the most exquisite dishes from Northeast Rus.
The Prince's courtiers and subordinates sat neatly at the lower tables, while the Greek guests from afar were opposite them.
This was the largest banquet in Moscow in recent times, so people from all privileged classes of Moscow gathered here, such as chieftains, city nobles, and wealthy merchants, who also brought their families.
Similarly, the Greeks opposite them were also present.
Just like the scene outside, after the initial reserve, as food was consumed and alcohol took effect, everyone relaxed. Some even moved around the tables with their wine cups, speaking nonsense.
Zoe was frequently visited by many Greeks. As the mistress of Moscow, her status caused many Greeks to instinctively pay their respects to her first, trying to get close to this noblewoman who had been away from the imperial capital for so long.
Zoe wore a smile on her face, greeting these distant compatriots with the demeanor befitting a lord's wife. As for her inner thoughts, they were filled with sarcasm; if this were the imperial capital, these people would probably still disdain her.
Some even asked her if there was a way to return to the imperial capital. Zoe found this amusing; those who would have the ability to return to the imperial capital in the future should have stayed in Kiev, not been escorted to this distant North.
After visiting Zoe, many Greeks used the opportunity to meet Rostislav, expressing their desire to stay in Moscow.
For these Greeks, this inner city called Red City looked decent; it wasn't as barbaric as the outside, and had some imperial capital style, which reminded them of their distant homeland, so they were willing to stay here.
Moreover, the ruler of this city, the young Rostislav, was not a mere barbarian.
He exuded the aura of a man of letters, an aura that made these Greek intellectuals feel a sense of kinship. They were quite willing to work under such a Prince.
They detested pure barbarians, who did not understand the power of culture. Working under them would likely turn one into cannon fodder at any moment.
Rostislav naturally agreed to all these requests without hesitation. He was eager for these people to stay in Moscow. All parts of Moscow needed people, so much so that he could immediately arrange positions for them.
These people were basically officials from various parts of the Eastern Roman Empire; had it not been for the political struggles in the imperial capital, they wouldn't have come here. Employing them brought him only benefits, no harm.
Speaking of the political struggles in the imperial capital, Rostislav couldn't help but think that the imperial capital had become increasingly unstable in recent years. So, he had to prepare and arrange a group of people specifically in the imperial capital to recruit talent.
Especially after that great war that changed the entire situation of the Eastern Roman Empire, that was the best time to recruit talent. Now, thinking about it, less than ten years have passed since then, and he must plan and win people over as soon as possible.
Rostislav was even considering whether to specially form a fleet to migrate a large population to Rus' when the Eastern Roman Empire fell into the vortex of civil war and foreign invasion.
Naturally, the Church's people could not stay. Rostislav still had to give Tiberius this respect. If he poached too much from Tiberius, it would be problematic if the conversion of Bulgar couldn't be completed.
Due to the Prince's swift agreement, the atmosphere of the banquet became increasingly joyful. These Greeks truly did not want to go further north, and now that they finally had a place to settle, their spirits naturally soared.
However, many Church members still looked bitter and resentful; they didn't want to go to the East, but they couldn't escape.
But as Tiberius's gaze swept over them, they immediately composed themselves. It wouldn't be good for the future Bishop of Bulgar to see such expressions on their faces; this future Bishop had decisively executed many such people on the journey.
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