Rise of Rurik

The cavalry directly showed the flag of Ross, and at the same time, Lambert also took out the prepared token.

It was a blood-stained Ross shirt, and it was not easy to wash off the blood without soap. The clothes were badly damaged, and the mottled blood was clearly visible.

The cavalry was taken aback, and the captain at the head suddenly became angry, and suddenly he drew his bow, and the arrow flew away as soon as he let go. Finally he held back.

"You... are you?! Guys from Polotsk?"

"It's us." Rabat was even a little proud: "I am under the order of our leader, and I want to negotiate with your leader."

"Negotiate? Is it necessary?"

"If you don't think it's necessary, then choose war. Maybe we can go home now." That's all, Lambert did have the intention of withdrawing.

He felt that the negotiation was stranded halfway through and there was no need to linger, but unexpectedly his retreat was blocked.

At this moment, more cavalrymen came over, and some cavalrymen even held the Ross flag. The majestic cavalry commanded the six foot soldiers in the eye area, and now only Lambert was still holding back his emotions and did not let his timidity show.

Really brave and fearless? That's because Lambert didn't add to the world.

The coercion of as many as fifty cavalry in a dense formation is too strong!

"Throw away your weapons! Otherwise, you will be trampled to death!" A cavalryman threatened domineeringly.

Hearing that, the five people completely lost their courage, their vows when they set off were all a joke at the moment, and all the weapons in their hands were thrown away.

Even Lambert, who originally planned to assassinate, really felt that the assassination was a stupid move in this situation. It wasn't that he couldn't strike, it was because the enemy was too strong and lacked opportunities. How many cavalry did the Roth bandits have? Just the cavalry in front of him, even if Polotsk dispatched two hundred soldiers, he would not be able to win.

But Lambert retained his bottom line as a warrior. He inserted the short blade and hand axe back into his belt, and opened his hands to show that he was harmless.

This move was not considered cooperative, and the cavalry urged: "I told you to throw your weapon, what are you doing?!"

That's how Lambert eats soft and not hard. He straightens his leather hat and twists his neck from side to side. When he gets angry, he doesn't care about life or death. He said boldly: "I'm a warrior! A warrior can't drop his weapons, otherwise he's a fool."

It is such words that are really admirable. Ross, as a Vikings, always pays attention to his weapons in battle, and the more warriors cherish their weapons the most.

This young Polotsk is a real talent, and perhaps forcing him to lay down his arms will make the negotiations collapse, which is against the meaning of Fisk Boss.

Let's make a special case for this guy.

"Okay. Are you messengers? Are you going to talk to us?" The cavalry headed by them finally changed the subject.

"Yes, I want to talk to your leader."

"Alright, you can come with us with your arms. You just have to put down your arms when you see our boss."

"You! Are your leaders afraid?" Lambert deliberately tried to speak quickly, and there was a smile on his face.

Of course, the cavalry were worried that Fisk or other brothers would be attacked, but this indecent worry should not be explained. We can promise that we will not kill the messenger. It just so happens that our boss also intends to chat with you Polotsks, maybe you can.”

"Oh? You actually know our identity?" Lambert was still a little surprised.

"Nothing to hide, we know your situation like the back of your hand!"

The cavalry is bluffing, and the Russ' knowledge of Polotsk is almost all from the description of old Harold, and the encounter with the Ureko team. Only relying on these information, Ross made a basic judgment-they are weak soldiers. Based on this knowledge, the cavalry stationed in Vitebsk has a deep contempt for Polotsk from top to bottom.

Although it is a weak place, it does not mean that the Rus army should invade in a big way, just because anyone who starts a war without authorization is against the order of the king, unless the other party is the first to attack.

On this issue, Fisk showed strong determination as a military commander. He restrained his restless subordinates, and only then did the cavalry **** the messenger reach the Vitebsk fortress peacefully.

In the beginning, it was a large swamp with shallow water, with several shoals through which water could flow directly. The Polotsk people in this area are very aware of the potential for developing agriculture here, but their population is not large, and no one wants to leave the Polota River Basin, a tributary of the West Dvina River, based on the principle of keeping warm. Far.

In the past this area was frequented by Polotsk hunters who occasionally hunted wild boars. In recent years, the hunters in Polotsk have been reluctant to go east to hunt after hearing about the rampage of armed forces harassing Smolensk.

Lambert came here many years ago, and his memory of the local area is still "a muddy swamp". Even on foot, it only takes four days to get here, but it is unnecessary to come here, it is too wild, and it will take time to transform this watery land into an oat field.

It happened that a fortress rose from the ground in the swamp area.

Surrounded by menacing cavalry, Lambert and his entourage are like dwarves.

Now the group is facing the high pine wood city wall again, and they have to look up at the guard soldiers on the wall.

More cavalrymen came together, like watching the little beasts that could not be hunted, walking around them with a playful attitude, the ears were full of the neighing of the horses and the roars of the cavalry.

"These people actually wear iron helmets?!"

Lambert deliberately observed these cavalrymen, paying attention to their weapons, equipment and armor. The more carefully he observed, the more arrogant he was when he set off, the more he left. "Don't they all have armor?! Spearheads can't be pierced, and axes can't smash them. Could it be that they can only be rammed to death with a sledgehammer?"

A group of cavalry dismounted and pushed the messengers into the open wooden door.

At first, Rambat could only notice that this was a tightly packed settlement outside the city walls. Perhaps the city gate was a weak point. If all the military forces of the Polotsks launched an attack, they would have to break through the gate and enter it. What's in the city? Now he was finally standing within the walls.

He looked left and right. This was a small wooden fort. The houses inside were very simple. The ground was covered with black soil. There were also a lot of unremoved reed marks. There was also a lot of wood on the ground. The fort is still under construction.

He was silently remembering what he had seen and heard, whether he glanced at the gate and the high platform out of the corner of his eyes, thinking about how to escape if he was detained.

The wooden door was suddenly closed, and when viewed from the back, it could be judged that it was just a simple "fence gate". If Polotsk launched a siege, these guys would have piled dirt on the door, so that the army could not smash through the door with brute force, and then they would have to rely more on long ladders to forcibly climb.

Just as Rambat was thinking about it, Fisk and Svalgard appeared together in the roar of the cavalry. The two generals changed into their best shirts, and hung bear heads on their iron helmets.

The bear head with the mandible removed and the brain dug out. From the inside, it looks like a huge scoop, which can be buckled on the iron helmet almost perfectly. This is the case with Ross's version of Berserker, or "Berst Bear Warrior" is more appropriate. The bear head is purely decorative, of course, wearing it can scare the guts of a considerable number of enemies.

Fisk took some time to use these special decorations, including the most powerful men in the army he selected, all dressed in gorgeous and domineering bear heads.

The atmosphere of the appearance of more than a dozen people was extremely enthusiastic. Lambert was considered a ruthless man in Polotsk after all, but he was not frightened, but he saw that the five followers were either diapers, or slumped, or their legs were trembling.

Is this what the messenger looks like? Seeing a group of cowards trembling, the dense cavalry gathered in the fort burst into laughter again.

The brothers were so enthusiastic that Fisk was very satisfied, and seeing the messenger standing here intact, or sitting on the ground trembling, made him even more satisfied.

He raised his hand to signal, and all the officers and soldiers paused their mockery.

From this ability to respond to all kinds of calls, do you think this tall man with a bear head is the leader of the Rus? Seeing this person, Lambert suddenly became angry, and now he was hanging his sharp blade on his belt, just taking advantage of the enemy's neglect and rushing up to launch an attack.

The original idea was this, but how could his uncle forbid him to act so recklessly.

An opportunity does lie ahead. yes! a chance……

Lambert was cowardly, and he found that even the thought of assassination had vanished. The leader in front of him was like a monster, walking towards him fiercely.

Suddenly, the leader actually spoke Slavic.

"You!" Fisk pointed at the only man standing firmly. "It looks like you're all cowards, only you are a little better. Are you messengers?"

"Yes." Being mocked as a coward again, Lambert was angry but could only hold back.

Unexpectedly, the leader continued to sneer: "It looks like you are from Polotsk? I have never heard of your name. You should be as humble and insignificant as mice. Indeed, you are weak."

"..." Lambert was still holding back his words, but his eyes finally had killing intent.

Noticing this murderous intention, Fisk couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth to look at the unruly cavalry warriors, and then deliberately chin to the helpless messenger, still arrogant: "As expected, he is a coward. It's really easy to conquer you. Relax, maybe I don't need to listen to what you have to say at all. Let's do it!" Fisker suddenly looked down at the messenger a little: "You. Kneel down like everyone else and bark like a puppy. This way I can consider conquering you and give it to you. A decent future life for you."

The humiliation of words became worse and worse, and Lambert's entourage did not know what to do, and they were all watching his performance.

"It seems that the negotiation was wrong from the beginning. Uncle, you are so stupid!"

Lambert silently scolded the uncle who was the big leader in his heart. Now his anger was on his head, and he was in a rage. He pulled out the axe and dagger hanging on his clothes, and directed at the strong man who spoke foul language. rush away.

But Fisk didn't even bother to look him in the eye.

What is a hundred war veterans? What is also called a brave (reckless) individual?

I saw Fisk raised his leg high and kicked Lambert's chest with his right leg, which easily resolved his stab.

That's all, the dismounted cavalry swarmed up, they ignored the frightened guy sitting on the ground, and the steel swords looked like they were about to pierce the heart of Lambert's chaotic swords, who were gnawing at the mud.

"Stop! Spare this man's life!"

If it wasn't for Fisk's order, after all, he would still be unable to hold on to the humiliation and sudden assassination, but the easily worn Lambert would really die.

Fisk stepped forward with his entourage and kicked away the scattered daggers and axes with his boots. He was very worried that his kick would break the man's ribs, but he saw the man coughing with a blushing face, and he really spat out some blood from his mouth.

"Have you broken your bones? It seems that it is inappropriate for me to call you a coward. You are the only one who is not a coward. You... have the right to tell me your name."

"Lambat." Lambert, who kept wiping the blood from the corners of his mouth, replied angrily while biting his **** teeth.

"Okay. Messenger Rambat, stand up now."

Seeing that he didn't seem to be able to get up by himself, Fisk shook his neck, and two people stood up one by one. "Take it away. I'll go in and talk to this guy."

In a sense, this is the killing power stick, but its power is a bit too sluggish.

After a single kick, Lambert's ribs were not broken, but his lungs were severely choked, causing a lot of blood to accumulate.

The room was rather dim, and the air was filled with a strong pine fragrance. Although the floor was made of this log, it still needed further polishing, and now I was sitting really sullen.

Lambert subconsciously covered his chest, facing the two leaders of the Rus people. In his perception, this earth is the supreme ruler of Rus.

"Speak." Fisk urged: "Since you are the messenger, tell me what you Polotsk people want."

So Lambert cheered up and endured the pain to try his best to remain decent, "Our chief demands that you be responsible for destroying the village and killing the people. You have to pay a sum of silver coins and hand over the murderer for us to deal with. Stop... stop building this fort. , leave our territory."

"Is that all there is to it?" Fisk, sitting cross-legged, asked contemptuously.

"I'm not done. If you don't do this, it's war."

Hearing that, Svalgard laughed silently. He turned his head to look at the old man: "This guy talks like a fart, so stupid."

Fisk shook his head. For the time being, he did not laugh at this guy's self-control, and deliberately said: "We want compensation? Why? On the contrary, you killed three soldiers under my command. I am very angry! I ask you to pay a sum of silver coins. , hand over the murderer, we will tie the murderer to a big tree, and then pile up firewood to set fire to it."

This was deliberately smothering the fire, Lambert spit out a mouthful of blood angrily, his face crisp and terrifying. "You...you...are all wicked."

"Wicked? No. I want you to hand over the bodies of the three people who were killed on our side. Hand them over to me first, and I will reduce the punishment for you as appropriate."

Although it was a mouthful of blood, Lambert didn't want to lose any more momentum. He raised his head imitating the other party's appearance, and mocked: "I know you are Rus! Russ, the three of you who were killed, the corpses have been chopped into charred lakes by us. The three heads were hung high, and countless People spit. Hahaha…”

"You! Are you irritating us?!"

"Are you in a hurry? But this is the truth. We can give you three persecuted heads."

"You guys are actively choosing to destroy!" Fisk originally just wanted to keep mocking. After all, these days were really boring, and mocking the enemy was a relief. As a result, the ridicule was not in place, but instead, he was humiliated by this blood-spitting guy. Originally, the Great King Rurik issued a "large-scale war ban". Is it possible to be so humiliated and not fight?

"You chose war on your own initiative." Lambert retorted.

"You...you're not afraid that I'll kill you now?"

"Come on then!" Lambert's stubborn temper finally returned, he was even a little older than Fisk, but his physical disadvantage was quite obvious. "Tell you the truth! We will have an army of thousands, and we will tear down your fortresses, kill all your men, and take your horses for my use. You will all die."

"Really? How many thousands of people do you have?" In an instant, Fisk's rationality took over. After all, a serious military confrontation was involved.

It is not clear how many people Fisk can gather in Polotsk, and the description of old Harold is not clear enough, only to hear Lambert in front of him threatening: "We can get 5,000 people. Haha, I scared you. Come on! Now give you one last chance, leave your belongings and ride away forever, or you will die."

Now there are only three hundred cavalry reaching out to Vitebsk. If three hundred are against five thousand, the Ross side seems to be at a disadvantage, but it only seems to be at a disadvantage.

Ross' standing cavalry has faced more difficult situations~www.readwn.com~300,5000 advantages are in my hands. Besides, who said the Vitebsk fortress must be defended? It is unbelievable to have cavalry defending the fortress. But it is a giant building of pure wood, it is not qualified to force the soldiers to work hard for it. Even if it does get destroyed, a new one can be built at a later date.

Fisk was actually too lazy to talk nonsense with this messenger, and asked impatiently, "Do you have anything else to say?"

"Yes! You can kill me, but as long as I don't return for ten days... oh." Lambert pinched his fingers and counted: "As long as I don't go back after seven days, it means the war has broken out. Then after ten days, our side will A large army can reach here. You must stay here and don't leave, like waiting for our necks to be chopped down like trees."

"Kill this guy. Torture him slowly." Svalgard had urged Fisk to execute the death sentence, and it was true that a simple quick kill was not enough to ease his anger.

Fisk didn't want to be so hasty. Punishments such as skinning alive, burning alive, and being a blood eagle were indeed enjoyable, but he himself did not like this aspect. To deal with a sure-kill enemy, stabbing a vital point with a single sword is a pleasure, not to mention that he doesn't want to solve the problem so easily.

"I won't kill you, nor will I kill your followers."

Lambert, who was ready to die, raised his head: "What do you mean?"

"Since you intend to attack our Vitebsk fortress, come on! Just take a good look at how our cavalry can easily strangle your five thousand people, and you will see corpses everywhere. Because, this is yours. The choice is what you want!"

Lambert didn't care at all: "It's just how fast you speak! The leader of Ross! You are the ones who will die, and we will win."

"Really? Let's wait and see."