Before the dawn of the ancient land of northern Saxony was revealed, on the barren graves of the Anglo ancestors, the falcon suddenly screamed, and the prince Edmund Edgarin, who was in the general's tent, woke up, and he shook his wife, but could not wake up, so he carefully rolled up his short robe and got up.

On the bracket of the short chain mail hung a handicraft gold brooch, which Woolhide wore on his shawl all day long, and Edmund somehow felt that something was unpleasant to the eye.

From the warm tent to the gray cold morning, Edmund caught a glimpse of the tall helmeted Polo warriors, the mercenary reinforcements sent from Chernihiv by his cousin, Prince Vladimir, to save the Rus' prince's sister Yevplasia Vseflodovna, who had been abducted by Henry IV. Edmund knew that this was not because of some "brotherhood and sisterhood" - in the eyes of Prince Vladimir, these people were nothing more than horse bandits and prisoners of war who could not be exchanged for much ransom, but in the West, they could be used as mercenaries, in exchange for precious iron armor and blades from the King of England, and the prince could find a good excuse to convince these people to participate in the war: his sister Yev Praxia also had the blood of a Cuman Khan in her veins.

With the addition of Archduke Henry of the Slavs to the command of the new feudal Duchess Woolf Hilde, the strength of the coalition has increased to nearly 20,000, and at sea, the Helgolan-based Grand Fleet blockaded the entire Jutland Sea.

"It seems like there's never been a war here." Enuerf the Fatty, son of Hugh Barn, appeared behind the prince, "Why haven't those nobles come to see us yet?" ”

"Because the battlefield has always been in the south, and we are in the northwest of the principality." Edmund repeated his wife's words, "Meissenbianber is at war with the Bishop of Hallburgstadt, and they will probably react when they know what is going on here." ”

"It seems that the Germans did not anticipate our attack at all." "Fat" Enuerf was a little excited, "Lüneburg is ours." ”

"I hope so." Edmund looked with some apprehension over the horse's legs, and a drop of dew fell just in time.

The problem of inexperience always plagued him, and his father handed over the real command to Rodrigo, who, like Godfrey de Bouillon in Kassel at the time, was only a "knight boy" who came of age early.

"Look, someone's coming."

Edmund raised his hands to identify the knight.

Robert Mallett, who had just been promoted to the position of of Sain, leaned sideways against his spear, dragging a row of women and children tethered to his horse with one hand, apparently he had not been idle last night.

The lush grass scraped against his legnails and side saddles, the green waves continued to line his wings, the chained captives drooped behind their horses' buttocks, and the Cuman warriors giggled and pointed in the direction of the Normans.

"Who are these?" Edmund looked up and asked Robert Marley on horseback?

"Spoils of war." The Norman casually threw the whip into the sombo of the squire, saluted, and replied lightly.

"I order you to ......" Edmund seemed to sense the hidden contempt of the other party, and couldn't help but raise his voice.

Screams came from among the captives, like a herd of pigs waiting to be slaughtered on the festival of Jor.

The Normans looked back, and one of the Cuman mercenaries had just shot an arrow into a woman's eye socket.

"Son of a bitch......" he cursed as he threw down the prince who was trying to give orders, and walked behind him.

The women wept as they dodged the knight with their swords in hand as far as they could, until the space left by the chains ran out.

Robert Mallett slammed through the wails to the wolf-laughing Lady Poirot, and with a backhand swing, the head of his sword slammed into the jaw of the steppe warrior with the bow and arrow, and the other man immediately fell to the ground.

Edmund watched in amazement as Robert Mallett moved next, and while the Cumans were unarmed, he used his blade to force the enemies to dodge, and at the same time struck down a high-armored warrior with an iron hand, and the stumbling Cumans fled in all directions, like a Viking breaking into a monastery......

The farce didn't end until Count Rodrigo himself arrived at the scene, and Robert Mallett was already fighting the mercenaries with swords, and if it weren't for the iron armor, the Normans would have been bloodied by the other side.

"You madman!" Rodrigo's beard curled up in anger, "I command you to go to the monastery and confess for ten days, and you are only allowed to eat and drink bread and water!" ”

If it weren't for the cooperation of the previous degree, he would definitely give this guy ten times the punishment, but now is the juncture of the war.

Robert Mallett dropped the steel blade in his hand as he accepted the punishment, and the killing intent on his face completely disappeared.

The Cumans were unarmed at this time, and they all looked at the Normans who were throwing their swords on the ground, and they were like dragons, and they all showed admiration.

They all remembered the might of the other party's attack just now, this Norman only relied on a sword, and fought with ten times the number of his own people, but he did not fall behind, and even put down three people, such a warrior in the art industry, in the grassland is also a hero in the awe of all tribes.

After the crowd dispersed, Rodrigo realized that the prince was also on his side, and seemed to be frightened.

"Send Your Highness in." He frowned, and instructed his son beside him, who was already feeling a sense of discomfort, and that the first priority at this time was the use of soldiers, but it was a pity that the king had asked him to take care of a group of children.

After a long time, Edmund remained silent, and the longing for glory and conquest had turned into smoke when the Saxon woman had just convulsed and fell to the ground, and he could not erase from his mind the sight of the corpse's eyelids covered in blood.

Is this the samurai I want to command—my father wants me to be like that?

In his military lessons before his departure, my father talked about the way to conquer Saxony: castles were built in various parts of the land, and fortresses were built in frontier fiefdoms. At this time, he remembered what Abbot Bath had said: "These 'Christians' moved to the wilderness, to be neighbors with bears and wolves in the forest, and to build castles in the barren mountains and wilderness in order to torment the poor." ”

He had felt that the dean's criticism of the knightly class was too harsh, but what had just happened seemed to confirm this view, not only the Normans and Cumans who were careless about human life, but even the uncle did not care, and did not even glance at the corpses on the ground and the trembling women.

Does being a king mean being like my father and uncle?