Act V: The Prince's Expedition (Part 12)
twelve
The sun failed to shine through the night. After nearly a week of sunny days, the sky was finally covered with dark clouds, yet it was inexplicably warm everywhere, as if spring had arrived early on the grasslands.
The three men climbed the hill again in the sweltering air, gazing at Batur's army in the distance. The Khan calculated that the army would emerge from this pass tomorrow. If all went well, perhaps they could leave this place by carriage tomorrow. On that plain that would soon become a battlefield, everyone and everything was being prepared intensively under the low clouds.
“What did Batur say yesterday… what do you think?” Yubi gripped Yakov’s hand nervously. “Is he really that confident that we won’t lose this battle?”
“He’s just talking about common tricks.” Yakov looked down at the army on the hillside. “The Tatars have many cavalrymen who can charge and shoot arrows, which is an advantage. But they’re not foolproof.”
"For example?" Schumeer asked curiously, sitting to the side. "I know absolutely nothing about these things. Could you please enlighten me, Sir Knight?"
Yakov rolled his eyes at the pretentious Jew. "How can he be so sure the army will take the shortest route?" His iron gauntlet pointed to the mountain pass. "Remember your drawing? There's more than one way across the Carpathians. What if von Brunel doesn't take this route, or what if the army splits into two forces, intending to outflank them?"
“That’s true.” Schumacher scratched his head and looked up at the mountain range. “But the fact that he’s so certain and the timing is so precise suggests that a scout must have given him the information. If they take a detour, the army’s arrival time will be slower.”
“That’s right.” Yakov crossed his arms, his chainmail clanging. “Even if they could outflank them, the peasant conscripts wouldn’t have much of an advantage over the Tatar cavalry. Just like Batur said, they’d scatter and flee at the slightest intimidation.”
"Does Lord von Brunel still have a chance to defeat the Tatars?" Yubi looked towards the valley. A large, exceptionally thick cloud was gathering there, being blown by a strong wind and rapidly drifting towards the steppe.
Yakov followed his gaze and studied the dark cloud. "It's difficult," he said slowly. "But what if he gets reinforcements?"
"Reinforcements?" Schumer chuckled. "Where would reinforcements come from in this desolate wilderness? Is it that Grand Prince Galic from the north can arrive in time, or have the Bulgarians in the south suddenly decided to rebel?"
"What if a crusaders come?" Yubi suddenly had a flash of inspiration. "What if... a knightly order really happens to pass by?"
This thought silenced all three of them. After a long while, Yakov finally spoke.
“Think of Pascal,” he said. “He was a member of the Knights. How many horses and soldiers could he possibly have with him?”
“…It seems so.” Yubi lowered her head dejectedly. “If Batur wins, maybe my sister will be even happier.”
Suddenly, something hard hit him on the head. "What was that?" Yubi immediately covered the back of his head.
"Ouch!" Schumeer also got hit on the shoulder. "What happened?"
Just as they were speaking, a series of loud crashes and bangs erupted all around, followed by a deafening rumble of thunder from the rapidly approaching dark clouds. "It's hailing!" Yakov exclaimed, pulling his helmet over his head; all the metal parts of his clothing rattled like gongs. "Get back to your tent quickly!"
However, the felt tent couldn't keep out the hail. The three ran back to their tent and found that the felt covering couldn't withstand the disaster. Some of it leaked, some billowed, and some collapsed. Before long, most of the thin wooden beams were exposed, allowing even more hail to pelt into the fire pit.
The lightning in the sky was blindingly dense. "How can it be hailing in winter?" Schumeer covered his head and hid in a corner. "This is bizarre!"
“Our yurt is about to collapse!” Yubi said, hiding under Yakov’s cloak. “...What about the other yurts?”
As night fell, the weather turned bitterly cold, yet the entire camp was brightly lit. They were housed for the night in the Khan's council tent. The soldiers busied themselves repairing tents and inspecting their horses. Reports kept arriving—"Will Batur lose because of this hailstorm?" Yubi whispered to Yakov, "What did they say?"
“They say there were no casualties or damage to horses. Most of the tents have been repaired.” Yakov shook his head slightly. As he spoke, white mist emerged from his helmet. “A hailstorm can’t change much.”
“I thought this was divine retribution,” Schumacher said, rubbing his hands together to warm them. “What can hail change?”
“It’s too cold to use fire,” Yakov thought for a moment. “...Sometimes, the hail melts on the ground, turning into a layer of ice, like a glacier.”
"You've seen glaciers too?" Yubi asked in surprise. "What did they look like?"
“You can see for yourself later,” Yakov said, shoving his head away. “You don’t need to keep asking me.”
He barely slept a wink that night. Before dawn, the ice-cold tent was already bustling with people. Batur had obvious dark circles under his eyes—he looked like he hadn't slept all night, and his complexion was terrible. "The enemy troops are approaching." Yet he still maintained a confident smile, "Let's move out."
Yubi rubbed his eyes and stepped out of the tent. He found the world outside completely changed—just as Yakov had said, a thin layer of ice had formed on the ground, crumbling underfoot. The fragments floated in the muddy icy mud, and if you weren't careful, your shoes would slip and slide off the ice. He leaned against the felt wall in surprise and looked up. Under the gray sky, the entire southern Carpathian Mountains were frozen solid, every branch and leaf looking as if sealed in transparent amber, resembling a diamond forest from afar.
His fingers were itchy from the cold and he had to tuck them into his cloak. The Khan had prepared a chair for him, and even warm tea and snacks, but Yubi had no appetite for them. "How can we fight in this weather?" he wondered, looking down the hillside through his breath, where everything was still shrouded in darkness and obscured.
“I’ve changed my strategy; I’m not going to let the weather affect the outcome,” Batur said. “You’ll see clearly when it’s light.”
The three had to wait for sunrise during the long dawn. "...Is Lord von Brunel also in the army?" Yubi asked. "Have you found out?"
“As far as I know, no.” Batur clasped his hands together, staring intently at the dark mountain pass. “However, he did send his bishop.”
"A bishop?" Yubi asked in surprise. "How can a bishop lead troops into battle?"
"Did you hear that?" Batur suddenly stood up from his seat.
Yubi followed the Khan's gaze toward the mountain pass. The dark clouds of the previous day had dispersed, and the rays of the rising sun were gradually pushing back the darkness, making the glistening mountains and forests appear as if a dark veil had been lifted. He seemed to hear something—a sound was indeed coming from the valley, like someone chanting something in unison—and finally, the sunlight reached the mountain pass, allowing Yubi to see the scene there. He wondered, what would he see? Farmers wielding pitchforks, soldiers gripping spears, or knights charging into battle?
Something enormous seemed to sway and tremble from the narrow valley, appearing and disappearing in the sunlight.
It was a huge cross.
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