Act V: The Prince's Expedition (Part 11)
eleven
The next morning, Batur came to knock on the yurt door himself. Yubi woke up in Yakov's arms, the heavy arm making his arm numb.
"Your sister has replied," the Khan said with a smile. "What's wrong with your robe? Why are you wearing a blanket?"
“Last night, while he was sleeping, he accidentally leaned against the fire pit,” Schumeer fabricated the lie effortlessly. “A small patch of his back caught fire, and it took us a lot of effort to put it out…”
“I want my old clothes back.” Yubi looked up, staring directly into Batur’s eyes. “Could you give our luggage back?”
Yakov was slightly startled, but quickly regained his composure. A small sense of self-satisfaction rapidly swelled within him, causing the mark on his chest to throb violently.
The Khan's dark eyes darted around, scanning the yurt. His smile suddenly seemed a little stiff. "Of course. However, I need to keep Yakov's weapons." He cleared his throat. "What do you think?"
“Of course,” Yubi replied with a smile, two dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth. “He doesn’t need it anyway.”
The three changed their clothes and followed the Khan back up the slope to the council tent. The fierce winds of the steppe still raged, billowing Yubi's wool cloak in the air like a giant black banner. "Your sister takes this matter very seriously," Batur said, taking a roll of cotton letters from inside the tent. "Many identical letters arrived today, and one was lost. Fortunately, I have many more here."
“Really?” Yubi opened the letter, pretending to read it carefully. “What does the first sentence mean? ‘Your request is granted, that he may watch the battle.’ What request is it, and what battle does he want to watch?” He looked up, his eyes clear, and asked, “We didn’t mention any of this in the letter we wrote to her.”
“This is a secret agreement between me and Anbichya,” Batur replied kindly. “As you know, the army from Brasov is on its way and should arrive the day after tomorrow.”
“Will we still make it to the Danube in time for New Year’s?” Yubi turned to look at Yakov, who was wearing his cross again. “How far is it from here? How do we get there?”
“It’s not far. The grassland is flat, and it will only take a day for a horse to get there.” Batur waved his hand, called someone over, and said something in Turkic, “I will send you a wagon so you can take the donkey and the box.”
“Hmph, not bad.” Yubi, seeing someone immediately lead a spacious carriage over, happily put his hands behind his back and kicked his shoes on the ground. However, Yakov immediately lifted his cloak and told him to stand still. “Hmm… thank you for the gift. Where are our horses and donkeys?” he asked again.
“Please come with me.” Batur still smiled. “I have much more to show you.”
They reached a high vantage point with an excellent view—the very spot where Schumeer had previously painted. Yubi looked down and saw that the narrow mountain pass where the forest met the grassland had been enclosed. However, the infantry phalanx there was sparse, not very numerous, and poorly equipped, lacking even decent leather armor—they were led by only a small cavalry unit.
“These people are all slaves,” Batur said, looking in that direction. “They are in charge of the vanguard.”
Yubi looked at them in confusion. "Slaves in charge of the vanguard?" he asked. "Wouldn't that mean... they'd all be scattered and escape in no time?"
“That’s right.” Batur stretched out his hand again, pointing to the slopes on both sides of the mountain pass, close to the forest. “The most elite heavy cavalry will be stationed there, which is also my main force.”
Yubi strained to see in that direction again. He saw Thurana and her twins riding among hundreds of warhorses. The three of them, clad in brightly colored battle robes, stood out starkly against their dark armor.
“This is the shortest route from Brasov to here,” Batur stroked his goatee. “When von Brunel’s army arrives, whether the vanguard is elite cavalry or peasant-formed infantry, they will only get caught up in a melee with the slaves.” He pointed south, gesturing a direction. “The slaves will scatter and retreat. Their aim is to draw out the main infantry force, to prevent them from hiding in the mountains. I know von Brunel doesn’t have many cavalry; they even have to buy their horses from us.”
He then placed his palms on either side, covering his elite cavalry. "Once the infantry are lured out, I will order the elite cavalry on both sides to charge down the hillside and intimidate them." He slapped his palms together. "A group of terrified peasants will be enough to rout the entire army. Victory will be as easy as taking candy from a baby, or catching a turtle in a jar. The battle will be over in a day."
Yubi listened to this with astonishment. From Batur's account, it seemed as if Lord von Brunel, who had started this war, was a complete fool with no chance of victory. He glanced back at Yakov's face—the blood slave, experienced in such matters, wore an expression that was impossible to discern.
"Hmm... I wish you victory." Yubi replied half-heartedly, "Then where are our horses and donkeys, uh, where on the battlefield?"
“Don’t worry.” Batur patted his shoulder and told him to look towards the distant southern plains. “Your horses and carriages will be kept in a corner far from the battlefield.” His white teeth flashed in a smile again. “‘Victory or defeat, at the New Year, they will be sent to the border town of Ruse.’ Even if you suffer an impossible defeat, you only need to go there, drive south, and soon you will see the Danube River and reach the Roman border.”
Yubi glanced at the densely packed soldiers' tents. "The Khan just won't tell us which tent our horses are in," he thought, annoyed. "Very well," he said, stepping forward, dodging Batur's hand, and going to the bewildered young Batur. "I...I really enjoy spending time with your youngest son," Yubi said reluctantly. "I plan to discuss some Greek literature with him...With the great battle imminent, you should go and prepare."
Fortunately, Batur understood his meaning and didn't make things difficult for him. "Have a good time." The esteemed Khan bowed slightly to him, his face bearing that mask-like smile, and strode away.
"Oh, this is exhausting!" Yubi ordered a slave to bring a large blanket and simply lay down on it to avoid getting his clothes dirty on the muddy grass. He glanced at little Batur—the Tatar child had only talked to him for a short while, but was already dizzy from the similarly named mythological figures and epic stories, and whenever he had a chance, he would run off to play with the big slave. The slave was happy to have some free time and didn't even bother to open the large umbrella anymore.
“I have a question.” The young vampire looked thoughtful, then turned to look at the infantry formation below the mountain. “With so many slaves, why don’t they rebel against Batur together?”
“You saw with your own eyes how Turana brought the slaves back.” Yakov stood beside him, pointing to the cavalrymen next to them. “He had an army. An army can capture slaves and also suppress them.”
Yubi frowned and thought for a while. "Then why does the army listen to Batur?" he asked. "They can't be like Batur, with female slaves by their side every day, just hiding in their tents watching others fight."
“Because Batur is the Khan, he is responsible for distributing the loot to everyone.” This time it was Shumel who answered him, “The army doesn’t need to think about anything else, as long as they obey, they will get paid.”
"Then why doesn't the army just keep what they've looted for themselves?" Yubi insisted. "Is it really necessary for the Khan to divide it up?"
“It’s not that such things don’t happen, in fact, they happen quite often,” Schumer stroked the end of his beard. “For example, if Thulana were to cut off Batur’s head and become Khan herself…”
"Then why do the soldiers listen to Turalya and call her Khan?" Yubi pressed, his eyes wide. "No matter how powerful she is, she's just one person; she can't defeat an entire army!"
"What a bunch of whys!" Schumeer exclaimed, his mouth agape in surprise. "Look at your furrowed brow! In a couple of days, you'll be wrinkling like Yakov!"
“It’s time he heard this too.” Yakov started walking, his brow relaxing instead. “I’ll give you my explanation.”
The three men dragged the watcher to the other side of the hillside—facing south—where a large flock of sheep was emerging from behind the soldiers' tents. "These sheep are for military rations," Yakov said, extending his iron glove and pointing to the dense white dots running in the distance. They were so small, like sesame seeds scattered on a field half snow and half withered grass. "I want you to keep an eye on them and figure out how the Tatars herd them."
Yubi stared wide-eyed, his gaze fixed on the distant plains. A moment later, he keenly realized what Yakov was showing him. "They have sheepdogs and horses!" he immediately declared. "They ride horses and direct the sheepdogs to herd the sheep. The sheepdogs and horses are very fast; they can make so many sheep follow their prescribed routes!"
“Where’s the sheepdog?” Schumer squinted. “Well, I see it now, it’s a sheepdog.”
“A herdsman without a horse or a dog can only herd a few dozen sheep at most,” Yakov said. “But if several herdsmen ride horses and bring along well-trained and experienced dogs, they can herd thousands of sheep.”
"Your question is, why don't sheep graze on their own so they won't be domesticated and slaughtered? You also ask why dogs and horses can't herd sheep so they won't have to wag their tails and beg for food from humans."
Yubi thought for a moment longer. "That seems to be true." His brow furrowed even more. "Wild sheep can graze just fine even without being herded. Isn't that right?"
“It’s winter now.” Yakov squatted down, plucked a blade of grass from under his feet, and handed it to Yubi. “Remember what I told you when you first came here? Herdsmen need to cut hay, store grain, and plan their pastures before the snow falls. Otherwise, there won’t be enough hay in winter, and the sheep will dig through the snow and eat the grass roots too. This grassland will become a barren desert, and it won’t recover for years. The sheep will all starve to death, and the dogs and horses will have nothing to eat.”
Yubi stared at the blade of grass in his hand. "Could it be that humans are actually beneficial to sheep? That doesn't seem like what you're saying..." He looked up, full of doubt, and asked, "But humans aren't sheep, horses, or dogs. Humans have thoughts; humans can understand these things. What if one day, the sheep realize, like humans, that they don't want to be this way?"
“That’s the problem.” Yakov gazed solemnly at the flock of sheep. “Slaves are not sheep, soldiers are not dogs, bureaucrats are not horses. They are human beings just like the Khan and the King. But the Khan and the King always want to turn people into sheep, dogs, or horses. They want them to be livestock, slaves.”
The answer to the question seemed almost obvious. Yubi thought he was close to understanding, yet still one step away from the truth. Was it really that simple?
“That’s not how it is.” Schumeer, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly crossed his arms and retorted, “Yubi, don’t listen to him. He’s so ambitious and selfish… He doesn’t treat others as human beings, calling it ‘being disappointed in them.’ As if having this reason gives him the right to look down on everyone and think that others deserve to be controlled, and that it’s all their own fault for not understanding.”
“He never thought this was a choice.”
“A choice?” Yubi turned her head, looking at him with even more confusion. “You mean, someone understands everything, yet chooses to be controlled by others?”
“That’s true, and that’s not true either,” Schumacher said slowly. “What kind of life do you think sheep, sheepdogs, and horses lead every day?”
Yubi continued gazing into the distance, watching the dirty little white dots running across the withered grassland. "I understand what you mean," he said, keenly aware of Schumeer's intention. "With people, sheep, dogs, and horses no longer have to worry about food. Whether it snows or there's a drought, people will always find a way to feed them... until the day people need them to die, when they're tied up on a rack, just like that sheep at the feast, and it's all over with a single cut."
"People are the same," Schumeer said. "People can choose what they don't want to think about and ask others to think about it for them. Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses in thinking about things, their own likes and dislikes in thinking about things. You can't expect everyone to vote on all the important matters. If sheep could decide how to graze themselves, they would dig up the grass roots and eat them; if sheepdogs could decide how to distribute the mutton, they would become wolves and have to hunt again every day; not to mention horses, they can't survive without people! Do you know how much hay a horse consumes every day!"
"The final cut is the bargaining chip. Many people use this cut to exchange for a lifetime of security. That way, they can only think about what they want to think about and live a happy life."
“That’s called servility!” Yakov grabbed Yubi’s wrist. “Don’t listen to him. It’s because there are always people with servility that people like Batur have gained power.”
“This is a choice, this is a division of labor, this is freedom!” Schumer stared into Yubi’s eyes. “Fine! What Yakov thinks is his own business, it’s none of my concern. So what do you think?”
"...It doesn't matter what I think, does it?" Yubi crumpled the grass in her hand into a ball and looked into the distance. "I can neither change these things, nor can I change myself. What you're talking about is actually your own situation, which is completely different from mine. So why ask me what I think?"
After speaking, Yakov released his wrist, and Schumeer sighed and looked away. "That's the most terrifying truth in the world," Schumeer remarked. "Even those who have shared life and death can have completely different troubles."
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