After crossing the Volga River, Akad's army found the dirt road trampled by the crowds heading to Kashin during this period.
This greatly excited him, because following this road would lead them to their objective.
However, along with this, came roadside attacks and ambushes; arrows or javelins would suddenly be launched from the woods or hillsides, and the attackers would flee after taking down a few unlucky individuals, and even mounted nomadic archers would suddenly appear at the edge of the formation to loose arrows.
Of course, some were unlucky enough to be intercepted and killed, as the Bulgar Army also included many Finn tribesmen skilled in forest combat and swift nomadic horse archers.
However, those captured were mostly low-ranking soldiers in cloth and leather armor, and Rostislav's elite forces were still nowhere to be seen.
This made Akad even more convinced that the Moscow Prince's main force was ahead. These skirmishes and battles had rarely occurred before, but now they were appearing in droves. Wasn't this precisely because they were getting closer to that young man's vital point?
Akad, commanding the Bulgar Army, ordered all units to prepare for battle, as the Rus' main force could arrive at any moment.
However, when he gave this order, he did not realize that Rostislav's main force had already arrived and was currently planning a surprise attack.
"What a massive army," the Prince exclaimed, looking at the spear- and halberd-filled Bulgar Army from behind the bushes. But he quickly composed himself; now was not the time for exclamations.
Quietly making his way back to his subordinates, passing a rider who was concealing his horse, Rostislav arrived beside his generals.
"Once we reach the designated position, we will launch a full-scale attack. Remember, the goal of this battle is to inflict casualties on the enemy, not to rout them. When the horn sounds, you must retreat."
The Prince reiterated with a serious expression, and the atmosphere instantly became tense. Everyone present, sensing this atmosphere, naturally nodded in agreement, even Edward and Meshko, who were guest forces.
Rostislav had gathered all his fast-moving forces for this occasion: his two hundred mounted retainers, Meshko's two hundred Polish Knights, and Edward's two hundred Hungarian heavy horse archers. These six hundred men were all armored and elite.
"The Bulgars will enter the predetermined ambush zone in about half an hour. Everyone, seize this opportunity to rest well. Dismissed."
As Rostislav spoke, everyone returned to their respective positions. They still needed to adjust and communicate with their subordinates and reorganize their ranks. The Prince also had to have a good talk with the new recruits among his retainers to soothe their emotions, as the retainer corps had directly expanded by a generation.
Yes, Rostislav's retainers had already expanded to two hundred.
Since the nobles of Northeast Rus' learned that the Prince was recruiting men for his retainer corps, some powerful nobles and chieftains sent their sons to him to join his retainer corps.
Doing so was partly to demonstrate loyalty to Rurik and partly to find a path for their third and fourth sons.
Especially for chieftains, acquiring a set of armor that would allow their children to venture out was no small sum of money. Now, pledging allegiance to the Prince could solve this problem.
Rostislav was also happy to absorb these young men. They were all good soldier material, having been trained in swordsmanship and horsemanship since childhood, and had a greater sense of discipline.
However, the Prince did not focus solely on recruiting soldiers from the nobility. In fact, he accepted anyone willing to pledge allegiance, including capable young men from among citizens, farmers, and even forest tribesmen.
For many sons of merchants and wealthy farmers, joining the Prince's retainers was also a way to change their destiny. If they became "companion cavalrymen," then ten or twenty years later, they might become the lord of a city or a fortress, and with a bit more luck, they might even become the mayor of some town.
Not only the generals, but the soldiers present also felt the approaching atmosphere of war. Everyone was very serious, and everyone was focused on preparing for battle.
Among them were also other military personnel. Besides these elites, there were also troops under the Prince who were skilled in forest combat; they would serve as a support force.
The new recruits were the most nervous group. Facing such a formation in their first battle, fortunately, the veterans continuously soothed their emotions and alleviated their tension.
However, in reality, the veterans were not much better off; they were just a little better than these inexperienced new recruits.
This battle was very dangerous, as it involved six hundred men surprising tens of thousands of enemies. Although the intention was to withdraw when the opportunity arose, it would be false to say they were not nervous. However, the presence of one person greatly alleviated the tension in everyone's hearts.
That was Hilarion, the former Metropolitan.
The former Metropolitan wore a set of scale armor, with a spiked mace tied to his waist, and a pointed helmet covered with the cross of the Lord, and his armor was covered with prayers and crosses.
Beside him were several guards. These warriors, even after the Metropolitan resigned, chose to continue following him, protecting Hilarion's safety.
What Rostislav saw as he walked through the ranks was the Metropolitan's prayers. He saw many warriors kneeling devoutly before him, many of whom adhered to catholic doctrines, but at this moment, no one cared about sectarian differences.
"…O God, give me strength; the Lord is my strength; he teaches my hands to war, he teaches my fingers to fight…"
As Hilarion recited a prayer, everyone present followed suit. In an instant, the solemn scene filled everyone with awe, and more and more people joined in.
Rostislav watched this scene, a subtle, indescribable feeling welling up in his heart. It was a very subtle feeling, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
And at this moment, Rostislav's shoulder was suddenly gripped by a hand wearing a chainmail gauntlet. The Prince turned his head and saw young Meshko's face, now filled with determination, as if the young man had made some difficult decision.
"Forgive my presumption, Lord Rostislav, although it is somewhat abrupt… but I hope you can grant me the honor of the first charge, to stand at the forefront of everyone, and display the glory of the Lord with blood and sword."
"…Alright."
Young Meshko's voice trembled as he spoke, which made Rostislav a little unnerved, causing him to instinctively agree to the young man's request.
"Thank you very much."
After receiving an affirmative reply, the young man bowed and then retreated to prepare his armor and weapons. Rostislav watched his retreating figure and frowned.
Why did this young man seem to have a self-destructive tendency?