"Yang, why are you so flustered? A nobleman should maintain some composure."
Seeing the standard-bearer roughly dismount from his panting, veins-popping warhorse, practically falling off, Rostislav couldn't help but frown.
"Your Highness, Your Highness, never mind all that, please look at this first."
Yang presented something with both hands. It was only then that Prince Rostislav noticed the young attendant holding an item wrapped in silk. It was because he was holding it that Yang had to dismount so awkwardly.
Rostislav unfolded it, revealing a bone fragment with gold inlay around its edges. Looking at it, an inexplicable chill crept into his heart, a feeling that came from his very bones, a sensation Rostislav couldn't quite describe.
"...What is this?"
Prince Rostislav looked at the standard-bearer, who simply had his subordinate drag over a captive. It was a lavishly dressed servant, though his fine clothes were now incredibly dirty from the Rus's rough treatment. The man's face was filled with terror, and upon seeing Rostislav's expensive armor, he immediately knelt before him.
"This fellow is someone I captured from the Khan's tent."
Yang disdainfully kicked the man, making him even more nervous, trembling all over, his head seemingly trying to bury itself in the dirt.
"This item also came from the Khan's tent. Let him tell you what it is."
Prince Rostislav looked at the kneeling servant, who was also quite sensible and immediately spoke everything he knew.
"Lord of Rus'... This... this is the skull of Sviatoslav Igorevich."
"What!"
Prince Rostislav's eyes suddenly widened. He had considered many possibilities, but he never imagined it belonged to that ancestor who shared a name with his second uncle, and that it was his skull.
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Sviatoslav Igorevich, this Rurik was Prince Rostislav's ancestor four generations prior, and the grandfather of the current Kiev Grand Duke.
This Grand Duke was Kievan Rus''s last war champion, full of tribal customs. His entire life was spent in military campaigns, living the life of a warrior, constantly marching or fighting.
His military record was also incredibly glorious. In those days, anyone on Rus' land who dared to be unruly was suppressed. The Khazar Khaganate, former masters of the East Slavs and rulers of the Great Steppe for centuries, was destroyed under his series of offensives. He even went south to destroy Bulgaria at the invitation of the Emperor of the Eastern Empire, fighting north and south without a single defeat.
But the war against the Eastern Empire shattered that undefeated myth. He led a large army composed of Rus', Bulgarians, and Pechenegs, but even with the combined strength of Rus', Bulgaria, and the Pechenegs, they could not contend with the powerful Eastern Empire. Erroneous strategy further accelerated their defeat.
After being surrounded by the Eastern Empire's army and enduring a brutal siege, Sviatoslav had no choice but to bow to the Emperor. He rowed alone to the Emperor to sign an agreement, in exchange for his remaining soldiers to leave peacefully.
However, on the way back to Rus', the Grand Duke's allies, the Pechenegs, brazenly betrayed their alliance and attacked the Rus' army while they were crossing a river. The Rus' army was thus defeated, and the head of the war-loving Grand Duke was cut off. His skull was adorned with gold by the Pechenegs and made into the Khan's drinking cup.
For many years, the Rurik Dynasty had sought to reclaim this item, which symbolized the family's shame. But whether through purchase or war, they had never been able to retrieve this ancestral bone from the Pechenegs.
As the Pechenegs were defeated by new powers on the steppe and migrated further west, the Rurik Dynasty had given up hope of recovering this item. Unexpectedly, it was found today, and moreover, it was discovered in the Polovtsian Khan's tent.
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"Are you sure this is my ancestor's skull?"
Rostislav managed to suppress his excitement over acquiring such an important item and questioned Yang. Regardless, this item was too significant, compelling him to be cautious. If it were fake, it would be a huge joke.
"I found this in the Khan's tent. There wasn't even a single guard there; it seems everyone fled when news of the defeat at the front arrived. I stopped a group of routed soldiers from plundering the tent, then went inside and saw it placed in the most conspicuous spot, surrounded by all sorts of gold and silver treasures. I brought them all back. As for how I knew this was Grand Duke Sviatoslav's skull..."
Yang kicked the kneeling servant, as if kicking a dog, making the man shiver again, and his previously raised head drooped back down.
"This fellow told me to save his life. At the time, after plundering the Khan's tent, I planned to retreat, as we were too few. Otherwise, I would have killed him long ago. He also said he knew the Grand Duke and could vouch for the skull's authenticity before the Grand Duke. Seeing that it didn't seem like a deception, I brought him back."
"Lord, Lord, I once served as an envoy to Kiev. Grand Prince Yaroslav knows me, and I can testify. I swear by tengri, I can testify, there is absolutely no falsehood."
To save his life, the servant did not hesitate to utter an oath that no steppe dweller would easily make, swearing by the name of tengri.
"Then spare his life. We will tell my grandfather all of this later."
Rostislav's words finally allowed the servant to breathe a sigh of relief, his life finally saved.
After having his subordinates take the captive away, Rostislav looked at the battlefield. At this moment, the Polovtsian army had completely collapsed, scattering everywhere, while the Rus' followed them, capturing slaves. Now was the time to get rich; whatever was caught was profit. However, Nomads were basically all cavalry, and only a few unlucky ones who had lost their warhorses or were too slow were captured.
"Once this battle is over, the south should be stable for a while. Bruсь is dead, and the steppe's internal strife will soon begin."
Watching the Rurik Dynasty's banners advance victoriously, and seeing the Nomads who couldn't escape being captured one after another, Rostislav sighed. A great battle had abruptly changed the entire situation. The fathers of the defeated perished on the battlefield, leaving their descendants to struggle, while the sons and grandsons of the victors were spared such repercussions.
"And that day is coming soon. I truly don't know where it will lead."
The year was 1053. Rostislav knew that by next year, the wise ruler of Rus' would pass away, and the Rus' lands would be divided among his descendants, ushering in a massive reshuffling of power.
This was no secret; everyone was constantly preparing for this moment, and Rostislav was no exception. He only hoped that when that moment arrived, he would be capable enough to face that insane maelstrom and carve out his own place within it.
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