Saddle and Silk

II.

A rider on a black horse with a thick beard and a saber in hand rode towards him. Hulan thought quickly. He saw a shield with a coat of arms, a white horse in a red field, and a red horse in a white field. He quickly drew his saber and charged at the rider with all his might. He knew he was destined for death, but if he could kill the horseman, the Khan would be forever grateful. He spurred his horse and rode towards his death. There was a mad tumult around him. The Khergit chambul flew into the mass of infantry at full speed, pushing them back a few meters with their momentum. However, the line did not collapse and proudly held on. Not only did she repel the onslaught, but with the help of the knights she was now fiercely defending herself. In front of the lances lay the straightened bodies of horses and riders, on the other side much less sergeants, spearmen and crossbowmen, the two rows were not even a few meters apart, and yet they did not mix everything, they remained where they were. Two horsemen in heavy armor charged towards each other. At the last moment, Hulan took his mace instead of his saber and struck the opponent's shield with full force. The man in knight's armor wheeled his horse sideways, dodged a second blow, and then struck Hulán's bare head with a quick flick of his saber. The man collapsed from the horse's saddle with a barely perceptible grunt. His last thought was of Tengri praying to save the Khan.

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Autumn leaves fell from the trees and the wind carried the scent of the forest far, far away. That was back in the days when no human foot set foot in the local forests for the whole day. However, in the summer of 1258 and mostly in the autumn of that year, it was unusually lively. There was only one road here, a narrow one. And yet everything passed here over a hundred men of the rebel army, which recognized as its king the lord of Veluka, not King Gravet. After all, the king only controlled the north of his country, and even there he had a weakened position. Especially now that the envoy and the king's greatest enemy has returned from the far north. Lord of Jelkala and Etrosk, Chief Marshal Tiberius bey. I rode northwards to his new allies against the king of Swadia himself, who, after a year's peace, had decided to attack again. Hardly had Tiberius saved the Vaegir trade caravans, which meant an influx of money to the poor budget of the rebels, than he had to immediately call his retinue and defeat the Khan's more numerous sheikhs. And now, having gathered strength, he besieged one northern castle after another. The fortress of Ibdeles fell at his feet first, then he besieged the city of Jalen itself. He knew very well that the king had his nest there, and so he summoned detachments like this one.
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The watch fires had been burning for three days. King Gravet yawned tiredly, but still refused to go to sleep. The siege had already lasted three days. He, the king, who had five thousand men in the city, was constantly on the lookout for three thousand rebel men. However, he had to admit that where he had a lot of quantity, they made up for it in quality. The constant raids he had originally proposed proved suicidal because of those miserable Huskarls who not only hardly slept, but attacked themselves whenever and wherever. The king could no longer even try to ignore the fact that he had been torn from power. If Jalen falls, he will have only the old stronghold on the northern border left, but that will be useless, he will not be able to withstand the onslaught, and then he will be an exile and not the other way around. He rubbed his eyes. How many times had he forced a battle on the bejica and how many times had his fallen Khergit love for riding helped him. "But what's the use of riding here, beji?" the old king said to himself.
A detachment of cavalry had just left somewhere north, but he returned this morning, the truth is, thought the king, that my cousin the Swadija king had also promised me help, and his messenger arrived this morning. "Sir, they're attacking us!" "Who exactly?" The sergeant looked quickly and said,,, Tellrog, sir." "The hell, where did he get so many?! Even I have trouble maintaining five hundred sergeants per state, and he has two hundred in his company alone?!" Prepare the crossbowmen." "Yes sir!" The battle was going favorably for the royal side at first, or so it should have seemed. A lot of new recruits, half manned by the city's militia, were brave until about two hundred Nords swung from the other side of the walls. They fell into the flanks of the defenders, and it became a confusing clash where the battlefield shrunk at everyone's fingertips. The king was coordinating the defense and trying to push the savages back when word reached him that the southern section of the walls was no longer occupied. "Lord, treason!" However, in the tumult of the battle, the messenger could hardly be heard, "Speak!" "Sir, two councilors opened the merchant gate and as soon as it opened, about a hundred knights entered. But when the defenders saw it, they ran away like rats! Now another thousand soldiers are rolling in here, sir, we must escape through the north gate, now!" the king just sat there in the saddle. An hour ago he commanded five thousand men, now he had barely twice as many, and more were surrendering around the city. "The city is lost, come on!" "The king's personal retinue- After the king!" A wave of horsemen rushed through the burning city, picking up more horsemen who were fleeing.*The city of Jalen surrendered to the bey at sunset. "Two thousand prisoners, among them the chief scribe, the keeper of the seal, the chief steward, the royal procurator, and two commanders of the troops. Then a thousand fallen enemies, among them three colonels, eight ensigns, seventy knights. The rise of the Rhodian nobility, sir. Then about three hundred of our dead, and about five hundred wounded, among them the standard-bearer Jelkalsky and two boyars from the south, sir." The man who read it was tall, dark-haired, with almond eyes, and a wind-beaten face, in expensive sable a fur coat, about forty years old. "Baheshtur... I'm so sorry. I know that the master bannermaker was your brother." The man called Baheštur sadly looked back at the paper. "Please read on." "Ailla, Efendi." "Ailla eillah Tengri." Baheshtur read on, "It seems, sir, that the king has escaped with all his retinue. And Sir Reland reports that the northern strongholds are all firmly in our hands." ,,Great. Our lord will be pleased. Please tell my friend Prince Nealch that I need him to cover the north. In the meantime, I will welcome our acquaintance, the King of Swadia." "Yes, Tiberius." Tiberius was a tall man, yet lean and muscular.He had thick black hair and almond eyes, which, however, seemed to belong to a predator. He was a man of a more explosive nature, but completely cool-headed in battle and thought everything through as much as he could. A guardsman saluted to his right. "Sir, Duke Rimusk would like to speak with you." "Let him in." "If it's not my dear friend Tiberius, I'm really glad to see you!" The duke was somewhat more robust in appearance, some would say he looked like scrap metal, but with a warm and friendly disposition. Tiberius smiled and went to greet his old friend. "Also nice to see you Rimuska." "I came to see you because our king wants me to negotiate a marriage between him and Jarogleg's daughter Anežka Palailogovna. Can you imagine how hard it will be? Anežka is already twenty-two years old, but she definitely does not want to go somewhere where armies are driven around during the year and where a change of government is carried out en masse in a third of the territory. If it weren't for you, Veluka would still be "protected" by the khan, and the king would not snatch it from his hands. On the contrary, he would like to leave it to him. You defeated the khan, he has now retreated to the steppe, he has defeated the king, he is struggling and raising a new army , and his cousin wants to lock you up here. And in this I have to negotiate something that Jaroglek will want to refuse from a rational point of view." Tiberius nodded his head. "I understand you my friend, it's more than difficult. You know, try telling the king that as long as I'm here, the caravans and the roads will be safe. You'll see, he'll like it. "You little fox." The Duke smiled. "And if he lets it go?" "Then tell him that I will open the caravans to the east for him, send our people there to talk to the Sultan that the Khan is robbing every caravan and half of them never make it. After this, if not us, then he will leave the caravans alone. Ours too, you'll see." "Thank you." "Yeah, and one more thing, Rimusk - this city is your prefecture, your domain, right?" Rimusk, taken aback, just said: "Ahh, I..." "It's okay, and now please call Nealcha here, now please And then Tellroga.",,Yes, Tiberias."
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