king of ros

Chapter 408
To the south of the northern army's front line is the powerful formation of the southern army. When you look at it at a glance, you can see the endless black front line.

Hundreds of flags fluttered in the breeze, and groups of Confederate soldiers continued to file out from behind the hillside. Compared with the tight front of the Northern Army, the Confederate Army looked a bit messy, but fortunately, the whole was still intact.

Compared with the Northern Army, which enjoys more organizers, the Southern Army has some shortcomings in this regard, but after all, the Southern Ross has a lot more foundation and population than the Northern Ross, and these backgrounds are enough to provide some organizational supplements and catch up with some The gap with the Northern Army.

The central part of the Southern Army is composed of the Kyiv militia and the Chernihiv militia, which constitute the thickest and most powerful part of the entire army.

They did not form as large a phalanx as the northern army on the opposite side, but densely packed small phalanxes. The chiefs of their respective blocks led their neighbors, who were also their subordinates.

After the militiamen came the Grand Duke's personal soldiers who held the line, and the ranks of these personal soldiers were all armored. There is no doubt that this is the majesty of the ruler of the whole of Russia belonging to Kyiv.

But Sviatoslav was not happy with the grand team, instead he glanced at the guards uneasily.

Recently, Svyatoslav's personal army has expanded significantly—mainly by incorporating Izyaslav's personal army—the short-term expansion has made the quality of the personal soldiers uneven, but they are still a strong force.

"My lord Svyatoslav! Your banner, my lord!"

Sitting on his saddle watching the advance of the Chinese army, the Grand Duke of Kyiv turned around and saw an orderly struggling to squeeze through the densely packed infantry and approaching him. A rolled-up flag was placed on the cavalry saddle.

The Grand Duke wore a helmet inlaid with gold and precious stones, and his scale armor was even plated with gold. Combined with his strong body, the Grand Duke looked very dazzling, so the cavalry could find the Grand Duke at a glance. .

"Ah, it's finally here, go and rest in the back, kid."

Svyatoslav took the flag and handed it to the bearer.

Then the flag unfolded, it was a howling black eagle, juxtaposed with the black eagle was the trident of Rurik, and the portrait of Gleb, the saint of Ross.

Among the only two local saints in Ross, Svyatoslav most revered St. Gleb, so he printed the saint on his flag and let the saint protect his army. war.

"Hey, my father-in-law, this eagle looks good. It's the first time I've seen your military flag."

Boleslaw, who was wearing chain mail, said that the Polish king's helmet was originally a face helmet, but he didn't like the limited field of vision, so he took off the visor directly.

Interestingly enough, this set of armor and the helmet were actually gifts from Rostislav. Boleslaw has been using it because of its good quality.

"Boleslaw, shouldn't you have some flags in Poland? When you are fighting with pagans, you can draw crosses on your shields to distinguish between the enemy and us, but how do you divide them in the face of a Christian army?"

Svyatoslav continued on the topic of the military flag, while Boleslaw was indifferent to his father-in-law's suggestion, "Flags are too troublesome, anyway, everyone looks at the clothes and accents on the battlefield. If you can figure it out, there’s no need to do so much.”

When the two were discussing the military flag, a group of nomadic cavalry was arriving at the ruined monastery in the middle of the battlefield at an extremely fast speed.

The nomads began to circle the monastery in a leisurely manner, throwing arrows into the monastery.

The crossbowmen on the high tower of the monastery decisively shot the crossbow arrows, and the Polovites quickly fell under the crossbow arrows. Their armor could not stop the crossbow arrows accelerated by gravity, and they also stirred up a lot of dust, looking embarrassed extreme.

"What a pity, Jean finally let the Northern Army occupy the monastery. With Rostislav's crossbowmen on top of the tower, it is almost invulnerable."

Boleslaw said with regret that the King of Poland is also a battle-hardened man, so the importance of the monastery can be seen at a glance.

"We need a strong army to conquer the monastery. How about letting my people come? Sichech is also here this time. He has many elite men who can definitely take down the monastery. And Magnus , this young man from England has a fighting spirit, and it is suitable for him to go into battle."

"No, there are plenty of ways to clean up the monastery, look over there."

Svyatoslav pointed behind him with the right hand holding the whip, and saw a traction trebuchet appeared on the hillside at some point, and there were several ballistas beside the trebuchet. The peasants and engineers were constantly adjusting around, and Apparently more instruments are coming up.

"Those instruments are enough to take care of that monastery. Let Rostislav's men guard the ruins."

Svyatoslav's tone was full of complacency. After mastering Southern Ross, he also controlled the powerful technical craftsmen of the entire Southern Ross.

And with these people, you have these powerful instruments in your hands, which is why Sviatoslav didn't seem to care much about not being able to master the monastery.
But the next moment, a heavy rain of stones and crossbow bolts hit the siege equipment on the hillside, and dust immediately flew up.

Several trebuchets were directly turned into ruins. The worst thing was that a person was hit by a stone and turned into two pieces. The blood mist filled the sky for a while, and panic sounded immediately afterwards.

"Father-in-law, it seems that my men are going to attack the monastery in the end. Let Sichech go. He is very good at this kind of bitter battle, and he has also had contact with Rostislav's army and understands them."

Boleslaw looked at the siege equipment on the northern hillside. It seemed that before these projectile weapons decided the winner, the protagonists of the battle on the battlefield were the soldiers after all.

"Okay, Boleslaw, let your people do it."

Svyatoslav said with a livid face, this is the only way to do it now, and the Polish king immediately sent an envoy. The king ignored Sviatoslav's ugly face, but went on to mention another matter.

"What about Vsevolod? Why haven't I seen him?"

Boleslaw got along very well with Prince Pereyaslav in Hungary back then, but it is a pity that he has not seen the scholar prince until now.

"He is watching Saru Khan and his Polovites on the right wing. According to Vsevolod, the Polovites will rebel sooner or later, so we must keep an eye on them all the time, lest these guys loot our camp."

Svyatoslav was a little dissatisfied, and even the corners of his mouth twitched a few times. This brother was completely disobeying his orders and acting on his own. Mrs. Pereyaslav should have been in a more important position.

But since Prince Pereyaslav is like this, let him be like this. After all, he is an independent prince, not a complete vassal of Kyiv.

"Those nomads? Well, it's understandable to be cautious. Speaking of them, they are just opposite to my people. It seems that we can only meet after the war. I hope we can meet again at that time."

Boleslaw is quite regretful. The battle is always so impermanent. Who knows if we can see each other again after the war?
"Oh, father, look over there, Rostislav has hoisted his banner."

Gleb's voice interrupted the conversation between the two monarchs. The two looked away and saw Rostislav, surrounded by his personal followers, patrolling the battlefield. There were three kinds of flags on his head. Trident, Saint George slaying the dragon and the Virgin Mary.

"Haha, Rostislav looks more and more majestic, and his army looks okay. Yes, I really hope to have a good encounter with him on the battlefield. I hope his general will not retreat in any way. I am already looking forward to it. How did poets sing the praises of this great war!"

The fanatical fighting spirit echoed in the Polish population. Svyatoslav couldn't help but glanced at his son-in-law, a little dissatisfied. He was not that fanatical about war, and he still didn't like war madmen. More importantly, he boasted Rostislav.

"Don't be too anxious, soon, the battle will start soon, and there will be plenty of opportunities for you to perform."

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(End of this chapter)