The sound of horses' hooves in the distance was very urgent and dense, and when I heard it, I knew that there were a lot of people coming.

The workers looked up suspiciously, if these people appeared in the south of the city of Siye, it would not cause too much surprise, because sometimes there would be Ottomans there, although there were not many northern Bosnian cities under the control of Sackler, but the Sultan's power still took the opportunity to infiltrate the north bank of the Naussava River, taking advantage of the relationship with the city of Siye, the Sultan's people crossed the Naussava River from time to time and constantly probed the boundaries of what the Northern Bosnians could endure.

But the fact that so many people were now present on the north side of the city of Siere was strange to the workers who had heard of it.

As the sound of the horses' hooves got closer and closer, the distant mountain road was already covered in a cloud of smoke, and the cracked ground always looked hard, and the dust everywhere was trampled up by the horses' hooves, and the dust raised high made it seem as if they were wrapped in a mysterious fog.

Breaking through the fog was a strange-looking cavalryman, whose heads and faces were covered with scarves to keep out the smoke and dust, and because they also had helmets, only their eyes were exposed.

The cavalry was so fast that the workers had not even had time to see the pattern on their banners.

A knight on a black warhorse grabbed the irritable swinging mount with all his might, and turned to the workers and asked in a somewhat stiff local dialect, "How far is it from here into the city of Siya?" ”

"Not far away," said one of the workers, looking at the men, who quickly guessed that they were not locals, except that the strange tone of the man betrayed him, and more importantly, the cavalrymen's clothing looked very different from the locals, "if you hurry, you might be able to catch a hot meal." ”

"Thank you." The knight on the horse shook his whip and said hello, then returned to the group to report something to the man who looked like a leader, and after a while the man turned around and ran to the workers, "My lord wants to know where the Ottomans of Siye are?" ”

The expressions of the workers changed suddenly, their eyes were much more indifferent than before, and at the same time, several people couldn't help but look at these strange soldiers who came from afar.

These men were indeed soldiers, and although their clothes looked a little muddy, it was evident that they were not poor, and the faces of the workers became even colder when they saw some of them with unloaded armor bags hanging from their saddles.

"If you want to be mercenaries for the Ottomans, you can go directly to Old Pine Street in the city, where the infidels are there."

One of the workers turned away coldly, and the rest of his companions followed him, and no one paid any attention to the team.

"It seems that the locals did not like the Ottomans."

Little Cacho, who has been disguised and transformed, said to Gompati in the team that Gompati at this time also looked quite different from before, except that he was not used to being neat and tidy because of Alexander's constraints, and on the contrary, his body looked quite sloppy, and the weapons of this team had also been replaced by inferior old goods, and even Gompati, as the "leader", was just carrying a passable scimitar with a handle.

"Isn't this normal, the Ottomans have not yet completely conquered northern Bosnia, otherwise the Sultan might have sent his governors here instead of those sackles." Gompati said and looked at little Cacho with interest, "But I didn't expect you to learn Bosnian so quickly, you know, I still don't understand what they say, is this the credit of the Bosnian woman?" ”

Hearing the laughter of his companions around him, little Cacho was not annoyed, but on the contrary, he showed pride.

The veterans who followed Alexander out of Agri inevitably died after many battles, and the small number of Agri soldiers had now become the backbone of Montina's army, and some of them gradually changed from ordinary farmers and soldiers to respected officers, the most legendary of which was of course Oflai.

From being an apprentice to a stonemason to becoming one of the most important officers in Montina's army, Ofleiuil's scene touched and inspired many, and it was not unusual for little Cacho to hope for a rare opportunity to be appreciated by the count.

"If we succeed this time, I can guarantee that you will be reused by the Earl." Gompati made this promise to little Cacho and whipped his mount so hard that the horse neighed in pain, and the whole team ran in the direction of the city of Siere.

The city of Siye is not large, because the whole city is almost built on a huge mine, and the city is always gray from a distance, and when you enter the city, you will find that the city seems to be shrouded in smoke and dust all the year round, and people can always step on a series of footprints wherever they walk on the road.

Gompati's men were not allowed to enter the city, and the local city guards became wary when they saw these mercenaries, and only four people were allowed to enter the city with Gompati.

Little Cacho inquired all the way, but the people in the city seemed to be very sensitive to the terms "Ottomans" and "Old Pine Street", and even if they were pleasant at first, they often became very cold when they heard that they were inquiring, and some of the younger ones even showed obvious hostility.

"It seems that the Ottomans are not welcome here," said Cacho Jr., who had to add when he saw that everyone else was looking at him strangely, "Of course they are not welcome anywhere." ”

"The Bosnians hate them," Gompati said, looking at the hazy outline of Old Pine Street, which he had finally found after asking a lot of people, and reached out and pinched the scimitar in his waist, "but of course it's a good thing for us, so that we may be much more relaxed." ”

Old Pine Street is famous in the city of Sie, but this fame is not a good thing for the Siye people, and it is on this street that the Ottomans built their first monastery on the north bank of the Nausawa River, thanks entirely to the efforts and skill of the successive Sacklers of Sieje.

Unlike the Ottomans, who were more concerned about privacy and often divided the courtyard of the house, this large house was completely surrounded by a circle of two-story houses, and in the middle of the patio, a small arch of angels supported each other above a well, which had been destroyed, leaving only two broken pedestals standing bare next to the well.

As the representative of the Sultan in those regions that were nominally conquered but remained independent in reality, Sackler was more of a liaison between the Sultan and the local aristocracy.

It is true that most of the Sackler were only tasked with conveying the will of the Sultan, and in those places Sackler had some influence on the local powers, but there were obviously not many Sacklers like the city of Siye.

At the very least, the ability to compel the local nobility to give enough ore to the Sultan each year was clearly more successful than Sackler elsewhere.

Sackler was the nephew of his predecessor, a young and energetic Ottoman nobleman who had apparently inherited his uncle's methods, and during his tenure there were far more converts to the city than any of his predecessors.

Sackler did not show much enthusiasm for the arrival of a mercenary, and only after making the infidels wait in the courtyard for a long time did Sackler come out of the house, surrounded by several guards.

Seeing Gompati, Sackler frowned slightly, and from Gompati's appearance, he could tell that this person should not be a local, which made Sackler a little disappointed.

The Ottomans were still very good at those who were willing to take refuge in the conquered lands, whether for the purpose of winning the hearts and minds of the people or for any other purpose, and these people were often used by the Ottomans, and some of them even gradually became the princes of the powerful side.

The mercenaries did not appear to be locals, which made Sackler's attempt to show the locals the Ottomans' intentions to attract them, but when he heard that these people were from the far interior of Europe, he couldn't help but feel a little moved.

"Why did you come to Bosnia?" Sackler asked in Bosnian language, much more skilled than little Cacho, and almost indistinguishable without even looking at him himself, while his gaze swept over the faces of the men, not all on the leader and seemingly the second in charge, but on the other men standing next to them.

"It's just about making money, and some people say it's full of opportunities and wealth, but I don't really see anything special here except that it's dirty everywhere." Gompati said as he vigorously dusted off his body, and then spat on the ground in disgust with a mouth full of gray saliva.

Sackler's two dark eyebrows furrowed, although he also lived in a city that always seemed to be shrouded in smoke and dust, but he was disgusted by the sloppy and dirty appearance of the European in front of him, which reminded him of the public baths in Constantinople, thinking of the comfortable life there Sackler somewhat longed for, but he quickly suppressed this thought, because he knew that the city of Siye was the place that guaranteed his future.

"You're looking for a job here?" Sackler looked at Gompati, and when his gaze fell on the scimitar, Sackler's gaze couldn't help but pause, "Show me your knife." ”

"That's not a good idea," Gompati slowly grasped the hilt of his sword, "and handing over a weapon to someone else is like handing over fate." ”

"Your fate has been sealed since you entered the city, and I can guarantee that not only you, but also your companions of more than a hundred people outside the city, their fate has also been decided."

Sackler's words made Gompati's expression change, and at the same time, little Cacho and a few of his companions couldn't help but slowly move forward.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be so impulsive," Sackler looked around and saw a faint flickering figure in the house, the Ottomans looking at Gompati with a shiny beard curled on his lips, "if you want to do your bidding, you have to obey my orders, or you will have to leave the city, and if you let me know that you are still nearby, I will send someone to surround you, now you decide." ”

Gompati seemed hesitant to think about it, but in the end he slowly took the scimitar from his waist and handed it over.

"It's a good knife, it can be seen that it has killed people," Sackler pulled out his knife and sniffed it at the blade, "but I'd like to know how you got a Ottoman warrior's scimitar." ”

Sackler said, turning the blade around and gently pressing the sharp tip of the knife against Gompati's chest, "Tell me what you did before?" ”

"I've been a city guard in Pisa, and I've worked for another nobleman," said Gompati, "but they're not very generous, and I want to get rich, so I've organized a team, and I've fought for many nobles, some of whom are good but most of them are bastards, and it's not easy for mercenaries to do it now, at least half of the money we make goes into the pockets of the brokers." ”

Listening to the complaints of the European in front of him, although the subordinate next to him often did not know what to do, and even sounded like that at all, Sackler gradually understood the origin of the person in front of him.

"And what about your knife, what's the matter?"

"It's a gift," explained Gompati, who seems to be fully integrated into the role of the mercenary leader, "and it was given to me by one of my former owners, and although he was a good person, I wanted to make a fortune, so I left him, and before leaving, he gave me this scimitar." ”

Speaking of which, Gompati looked at the tip of the knife on his chest and reached out a finger to gently push it away.

"Speaking of which, I haven't fought the Ottomans yet, but I think if I had come on my own, I might have gotten even better if I could have captured such a knife."

Sackler was not angry at Gompati's words, his hand loosened slightly, the scimitar hung down, and then he handed Gompati the scimitar with its upright blade.

"I advise you not to try such a thing, or you may not have any chance of getting rich," said the Ottoman, waving his hand at Gompati, "Come, let us talk about what you are going to do with us, knowing that we are generous but do not feed the lazy, so if you want to stay in the city of Siyah, let me see what you are worth." ”

A small smile appeared on Gompati's lips, but then it quickly faded, he knew that this Ottoman might not really trust him, although according to their plan, he did not plan to stay here for long, but there was a lot to know if he was to realize the count's plan.

Although Ivo Drana or others could have gotten some information, Gompati knew that Alexander was very wary of the Bosnians.

Therefore, in order to get reliable information about the Ottomans, Alexander not only sent Kacho Jr., who was already half of Bosnia, but even Gompati came in handy.

Because Alexander knew very well that if he wanted to pretend to be a leader who could lead and suppress more than 100 mercenaries, little Cacho obviously didn't pretend to be.

When Gompati and Little Cacho entered the city, the "mercenaries" who had been left outside the city camped in a sunny place not far from the city gate.

In the eyes of the city defense army of Siye City, these strangers who don't know where they came from and speak a language they don't understand at all seem to be quite honest, at least these people didn't make any big noise when they camped, and what made the city defense army feel a little strange was that these mercenaries set up tents and lit fires to cook very quickly, and as the smoke rose, it didn't take long for some sharp-eyed city guards to see that the mercenaries were throwing pieces of cold jerky into the hot water, and soon a burst of tempting aroma had drifted along the wind.

"These outsiders are not polite, and treat this place as their garden." One of the city guards licked his lips, but when he saw that the others didn't move, he put away his plan to go over and rub some food.

"These are people who make money by selling their lives, unlike us," one soldier said coldly, "they are going to work for the Ottomans, and they may be our enemies in the future." ”

The soldier's words silenced several of the city guards who had planned to go over to talk to these "mercenaries", and their eyes at the army became hostile, so strong that the few soldiers in the camp who had stayed behind to lead the team immediately noticed something unusual.

A few muskets were moved to the side of the camp to keep an eye on the city defenders, while others ate and watched vigilantly for the suddenly hostile Bosnians.

"What are they going to do?" A musketeer in charge of monitoring scratched his body hard, and he didn't know how many lice there were on this dirty clothes, at least now he had begun to miss his clean and tidy, but also powerful and beautiful military uniform, thinking about wearing such clothes to fight, this musketeer felt that even the weapon in his hand seemed uncomfortable.

"They seem to hate us, but it doesn't make sense, we haven't offended them," said another musketeer, puzzled, "these Bosnians are so strange, no one knows what they are thinking." ”

"Shut up," one of the lead soldiers yelled at his companion, "remember that we're 'mercenaries' now, so if these guys want to provoke, don't be polite to them." ”

The leader's words immediately caused a round of cheers from all around.

It's just that the musketeers didn't expect that their actions would also mean provocation in the eyes of the Bosnians, and with this cheer, the two sides, which were already somewhat hostile to each other, immediately splashed a spark powder keg and exploded in an instant!

When the first shots rang out, Gompati was chatting happily with Sackler.

The Ottomans liked to talk about business, but the atmosphere between the two sides was rarely harmonious.

However, the gunfire at the gate of the city suddenly broke this harmony, and the Gompati and the others became prisoners in an instant.

And on a high slope far from the city gate, Alexander, who was watching the scene from afar, was frowning.

But when he heard the words of the Bosnian city guards from the woman Helena, who had been brought back by little Cacho, Alexander couldn't help but smile slightly.

"The Balkans are really tough, but I like it." Alexander muttered softly.