Chapter 1,399 Semigalia Has No More Soldiers Left to Fight

,!

The war gradually came to an end. The war started in the morning, and it was only in the afternoon when it entered the period of comprehensive cleaning of the battlefield.

Even though it has not yet reached the summer solstice, the daylight hours are still significantly lengthening. Such a victorious Russian-Latvian coalition has longer time to clean up the battlefield immediately.

They knew that they had to move quickly, otherwise these dead bodies would quickly rot and stink. Even by tomorrow morning, if they continued to stay in this corpse-strewn battlefield, they would start to be accompanied by the stench.

If they want to continue to be ordered to defend the inner city of Mezot, the victors must use various methods to dispose of the corpses.

The panting victors didn't have much time to do things now. They needed a good rest, so they stayed with the dead one after another. In order to prevent their clothes from being stained with the horrific muddy plasma, the warriors used the dead bodies as stools, and the blood on their trembling hands was still wet. , just eating dry bread crumbs and dried fish to replenish his strength.

Many people were thirsty and wanted to go to the river to get water. However, facing the Lielupe River that had turned red, they had no choice but to walk upstream.

Some people fill their stomach bags with water, drink the muddy-smelling river water to their heart's content, and then fill the water bags as much as they want for their companions. There are also a group of soldiers who don't care about their dignity. They put their hands on the ground like deer and put their heads into the water to drink directly.

At least they were drinking muddy river water, and the areas downstream were already a scene of hell.

The red Lielupe River flows quietly, mixed with floating corpses. Thanks to the victors who did not throw the war dead into the river, the tragic situation of the river being stagnant was avoided.

When the victorious Latvian warrior takes a break

Fan ate some dry food to replenish his strength, and the largest battlefield cleaning began.

They are like hyenas chasing carrion. Hyenas will eat anything if they are not picky eaters. If the prey's bones are broken, they will team up to lick the marrow as clean as possible.

Those who can participate in the battle are mostly poorer people in Latvian villages, and they are the only ones who hope to follow the Russians and win a big victory, and instantly improve their lives by relying on the spoils.

Objectively speaking, the winning situation gave them the opportunity to make a fortune.

Torn clothes covered in blood stains? It doesn't matter, you can take it off and wash it and you can still use it. Even if it is in pieces, you can cut it and make patches.

The clothes and shoes of the deceased were stripped off one after another. Under the increasingly soft and lazy sunshine in the afternoon, the battlefield gradually became a field of white flowers.

In order to avoid being attacked by a sneak attack, and more importantly to give the dying people a good time, the militiamen cleaning the battlefield stabbed them wantonly with spears. Those who tried to pretend to be dead were killed one after another, and a few were picked out and sent to prisoner of war camps.

Rather than sweeping the battlefield in all directions, the Ross coalition first conducted an inventory of prisoners of war.

The Latvian militiamen were busy searching for daily necessities, while Ross and the Danish soldiers were busy catching prisoners of war. Now, under Fisk's order, the work of inventorying the battlefield was quickly coming to an end.

At this moment, the cavalrymen dismounted one after another. They caressed their hard-working mounts and were saddened by the inevitable scars on the horses.

Fisk randomly found a grassy spot and sat down. His horse stood loyally on the side, quietly gnawing on the grass as if the war had nothing to do with it.

A soldier came holding a helmet. He was none other than someone who wanted to report the situation to his headquarters.

Kuang's "Pig Nose" Swain.

"Boss, I'm back."

"You?" Fisk looked up at him with his iconic nostrils turned up, then patted the grass: "Brother, come sit down."

"okay."

Swain's mentality was quite relaxed. As soon as he sat down, he happily reported: "You asked me to stay in the main formation, and I did it. My people should have shot many enemies, and I really did it without a single enemy." Killed in battle, not a single horse died.”

"Oh? Is this true?"

"Absolutely true."

"Well done." Fisk felt a little excited in his heart, and he turned his face slightly: "The first team was not killed, but someone was injured. Your people... there are no seriously injured unlucky ones, right?"

"It's just a minor injury. Besides..." Sven's face was filled with a smile: "We have captured some horses, and they have all been gelded. I think this kind of war horse will be better than what we have now. In this way, even if we break Lose some horses, and with the capture of this battle, you won’t be afraid of the king’s accountability.”

Swain had a point. When it came to captures, Fisk knew better that his men had captured more.

Although they shoot men first, they shoot horses first, but the Ross cavalry looked at the opponent's horse with envy, so they did their best to knock the enemy off the horse and try their best to capture the enemy without hurting the horse.

Swain reported his captures, plus the captures of his own team and Karl's troops. Fisk estimated that he had obtained a hundred war horses in this battle that could be nursed back to health and quickly put into combat.

"The king's responsibility..." Fisk couldn't help but look at the setting sun. Now that he and other guys had discussed the battle south, no one expected that it would become the miraculous result it is today.

Just as Fisker was thinking about

At this time, the young general Erik Spuyutson cleaned his sword and dragged his exhausted and sprained body to look for his brother Fisk.

Fisk's deliberately large bald head became a very conspicuous presence on the battlefield, and it was even more obvious with the horses wandering around him.

"Brother!" The young man called weakly. After getting Fisk's turn to pay attention, the boy hurriedly walked over and sat down next to Fisk with a posture that was almost falling.

"Win! I finally won! Now you all have to judge me as a warrior." The young man was filled with the joy of victory and urgently needed the affirmation of the old warriors.

"Have you done all the tasks you were told? No. When I was fighting, I noticed that you and your people were fighting against them?"

"I almost died in battle! Ah!" Young Eric faced the sun, raised his right fist and praised loudly: "Great Odin, thank you for giving me victory."

"Come on." Fisk stretched out his hand and rubbed the boy's furry head, and felt that the boy's head was still wet with sweat.

"Ouch, what are you doing?" Eric hurriedly covered his head. He had actually been suffering from a strong headache after exhausting his strength. If Fisk shook it harder, the boy would faint.

"Did your Saarema army suffer any casualties? If so, what were the casualties?"

"Thirty brothers died, and more than a hundred were injured." Eric said as if nothing had happened, but the number he mentioned was something Fisk had not expected.

"One hundred and thirty casualties?!"

"Exactly. We went through a bloody battle, and I almost died. Damn it, who would have thought that the enemy was coming for me. Fortunately, those Latvians

The demihumans are willing to fight alongside us... otherwise I might actually die. "

"It really scares me. I'm just afraid that you'll die in battle! It's okay, it seems the gods are blessing you."

"Really?" Eric shrugged: "Then the fate of other brothers is like this. They are indeed fighting for Rose. My father said that the souls of such warriors will arrive in the Hall of Valor immediately after death. Brother, are you right?"

Looking at Erik Spjutsson in front of him, Fisk couldn't help but think of himself back then. At that time, he went to the battlefield for the first time in this young age to avenge his father who died in the battle. After the victory, he was ordered to be the executioner to execute the prisoners of war on Gotland Island.

Assassinating twenty prisoners of war with an executioner's attitude is certainly a revenge for a great revenge, but no one considers it to be brave.

Fisk is really envious of this boy Eric. He was used as the main warrior at a young age. However, this boy is worthy of the old Ross bloodline and can bring honor to the dead and living people.

"Your Saaremaa Island Army suffered such a major loss, alas..." Fisk patted his little brother's face again, "Don't worry, I will explain it to your father."

"It doesn't matter." Eric still looked as if nothing had happened. "Many people are dead, and they still have many children. There are many people like me on the island. The future is my era, and my warriors are very We will be able to enter the battlefield soon.”

There seemed to be swords hidden in the young man's eyes, and Fisk could understand the boy's ambition.

Perhaps, only God knows what the new generation of Count Erik Spjutson of Saaremaa will do. Just from his indifference to the death of soldiers in battle, I am afraid that he is another ruthless person who likes to kill.

Philippine

Sk claimed that he was not qualified to make a judgment. After all, when it came to killing, looking at the battlefield centered in the inner city of Mezot, the Ross coalition forces under his command might have killed 10,000 of them.

The generals gathered around Fisk one after another. After all, as the military commander of this operation, Fisk needed to figure out his own casualties and gains. The most important thing was his own losses.

For all the Varyag warriors in the Russian coalition, the cavalry suffered no losses because they pursued non-contact combat and had to wait until the end to massacre the unsuspecting defeated troops.

After all, the infantry was on the front line. As far as armor was concerned, the Riga army of Spuyut, composed of Danish Americans, suffered heavy casualties. Everyone among the three hundred soldiers actually suffered a loss. Most of their arms and shoulders were cut by the enemy's broad-leaf spears. Although they bled a lot, it was basically impossible to kill them quickly.

It's hard to tell if time goes on. Most people don't understand the cause of "fever". Wounded soldiers describe it as "the curse of the enemy's evil spirits". It is their fate to die of malignant fever.

As an elite general of Ross, Fisk knew the root cause of fever. Those invisible poisons destroyed the body along the wounds, and people died painfully due to fever. There was no flammable liquor to treat the wounds of the injured, but Ross had a way to do it.

The boiled water naturally cooled down to a warm temperature, and the companion used it to clean the wound of the injured person. This cleaning was done until bright red tissue was visible, and then the wound was bandaged round and round with thick strips of boiled cloth.

As for whether the injured will fully recover in the future, this is beyond Fiske's control. The current conditions are extremely bad, and he has tried his best.

do the best.

However, the vast majority of wounded soldiers do not care about this. If they die from wound infection after the war, it is simply fate.

As many as a hundred Varangian warriors were killed, both men and women, and some of the wounded soldiers were so seriously injured that they may not be able to see the sunrise tomorrow.

Their casualty ratio was astonishingly high, but their strength was not large compared to the entire coalition.

The Latvians suffered many unexpected casualties. Most of them were wounded by stray arrows and javelins, and were stabbed by enemy spears in the chaos and died on the spot.

As many as 600 Latvian militiamen were killed in the battle, and more than 1,000 militiamen were injured to varying degrees.

Although they killed one thousand enemies and suffered eight hundred losses, if it were not for the Russian and Danish Varyag warriors as the main force, who lent the Latvians ten thousand courage, they would not dare to go south to challenge the power of the Semigalians.

But the war was won.

The Latvians used their huge losses to wash away their "coward" label. Stekander had to show respect to these guys, but the price of gaining respect was a bit high.

Once the injuries of the wounded soldiers worsen, a thousand Latvian militiamen may eventually die, which is an unbearable burden for their already small population.

The Ross coalition's own casualties reached 2,000, and nearly 1,000 people died here.

The coalition captured more than 2,000 prisoners of war, almost all of whom were male militiamen. The ownership of the prisoners of war was almost all in the hands of the Saaremaa Army and the Riga Army. The young generals Eric and Stekander had sovereignty over these prisoners of war.

"What will you do with the prisoners?" Fisk asked specifically of Stekander.

"They are all our slaves, working for us as serfs.

. Or sell it to the Latvians, hey, I know they'll pay for it. Many of their people died, and the farmland needed people to plant, and these prisoners of war could supplement the labor force. "

"Maybe." Fisk shrugged: "In my estimation, those Latvians don't want to go home with just some farm tools. They see that your people have a large number of prisoners of war, so it would be strange if they don't covet them."

"You? There's something in that, right?" Stekander asked in surprise.

"Of course." Fisk pointed directly to the upper reaches of the Lielupe River: "Could it be that the Semigalians can gather another ten thousand people? Besides, you all told me the status of the prisoners of war, and there are some things I have never heard of. The Okshtet people, they seem to be people from further south. This means that we have annihilated the main force of Semigalia, the door to their territory has been completely opened, and Semigalia is no longer able to fight Bing, what would you do?"

These words deeply reminded Stekander: "Hey, take the brothers who can still carry the sword to rob."

"Very good. Then you have to take the Latvians with you. Uncle, you are the Earl of Riga made by the king. The boyars under you must get some benefits, otherwise it will be detrimental to you and us."

"Oh? Do you still know this?" Stekander glanced at Fisk: "I thought you were just a warrior who was good at killing."

"how?"

"I will do this. I have an idea. After my people have a rest, they will lead the Latvians south. I will capture the main settlements of the Semigalians as much as possible and take all their property with them. Let’s go and capture all the remaining people and make them slaves.”

"Then I wish you success

Done. Fisk looked at young Eric again: "Are you going?" "

"I'm going." The young man answered decisively.

"Okay, maybe you can capture many women, and they will all become your wives and concubines and give you a lot of children. Just like...our king."

"This..." The young man's face instantly turned red with embarrassment, and soon turned into a man's excitement.

Fisk is not only speaking to young people, but also recalling his own past. The twins captured from Gotland had already given birth to children, but their sons were not yet old enough to go to war.

As the sun set, just as the entire army began to clean up the battlefield most actively, a prey was thrown in front of Fisk.

At this moment, the leisurely Fisk was waiting for the wheat in the big iron pot to be cooked. After eating his meal, he quickly took a nap to regain his energy.

The increasingly darkened camp was filled with bonfires, and the enemy corpses were being cleared away as quickly as possible. It is still the old custom. After the deceased is beheaded, the body is thrown into the pit and filled with soil.

This work was handed over to prisoners of war. Those frightened prisoners occasionally refused to comply. After a few people were publicly executed, the surviving people dug pits and buried them under the supervision of the proud Latvians.

This move was indeed intentional on Fisker's part.

It was impossible for his cavalry to go further south. Next to the inner city of Mezotte was the Shvet River. Walking along the small river, the end point was Cherbourg on the west coast. The main force of the cavalry is stationed here, recuperating and waiting for King Rus's follow-up land army.

Fisk felt that what he had to do was to send someone back to Riga with a batch of loot to wait quietly, while he took

The main force was stationed in the city to guard against any eventuality.

Actual combat has proved that the Ross cavalry's extraordinary mobility can crush the weak local indigenous brigade. If they want to expand the results, they have to throw all their work to the Latvian friendly forces.

He needs to inspire greed in these friendly forces!

Those prisoners of war who worked hard, because they were captured by the Varyags, were other people's slaves. They had lost many relatives and friends, but they had to stand here as overseers to supervise other prisoners of war to dig holes. "If these guys are our prisoners..."

The rest was Stekander's and Fisk no longer cared.

He is now very interested in the "prey" in front of him.

Fisk opened his eyes and took a hard look: "Guys, who is this?"

The cavalrymen who had captured him had all dismounted. They all introduced him in various ways, and they could only estimate that he was an enemy general. Of course, some people suspected that this man was the leader of the enemy, but they only introduced his bearish appearance after being captured. Everyone really didn't want to believe that a defeated guy would give in.

Fisk leaned over and immediately smelled a filthy smell. He estimated that one of his own had done something to the guy - he was afraid that a comatose person was awakened by urine.

The winner is certainly happy, but the guy who suffered the insult...

Fisk kicked a few more times, causing the confused man to moan in pain.

"Are you dead? Do you understand our Norse language?"

I saw the man making two more noises as if he understood.

"Who are you? Are you still wearing chain mail? Are you a Semigalian noble?"

"I! I am the supreme leader of Semigalia!" Namesis was at a loss. When asked about his identity, his hidden pride suddenly burst into flames. He emphasized again

After confirming his identity and name, he began to curse the Varyag army and the disgusting Latvians one after another.

"You're still the leader. I thought you died in the battle." Fisk couldn't understand the strange swear words in the local Baltic dialect, but he could understand his disdain and sadness. "Your name is Namsis. How many soldiers did you bring?"

"Eight thousand. Damn it, I can't destroy you with such a large army. If you kill countless people and destroy the altar, the great god Diego will rain down lightning and kill you..." Then there were some incomprehensible curses.

"Shut up! You crow." Fisk kicked him again, which was met with even stronger curses from Namsis, as if this guy longed for a pleasant sword thrust to end the pain.

Maybe he could give this guy a sword, but Fisk's brain changed and he was in trouble again.

"This is the war I participated in. I am the commander-in-chief of the coalition forces. Kill three thousand in one battle, and eight thousand in another? I annihilated more than ten thousand of them? As long as Stekander recovers and launches another attack, I'm afraid he can still Capture another 10,000 villagers? Do my results have to be comparable to those of the king? This...cannot be done."

Fisk is unwilling to be a tyrant. He has always believed that he can only be a general of the king, not to mention that the very existence of this battle can be defined as disobedience!

However, it is undeniable that this battle accidentally wiped out the main force of Semigalia. Rurik originally had plans to use troops against him, but that was after the crusade against the Franks. Now isn't the plan messed up?

"I have to save this man and dog's life. Whether he kills or retains it is all due to the king's will. I should transport this man, some prisoners of war, and all the captured horses back safely.

Plus, this is a perfect match for the king. "

After Fisk thought for a while, he didn't bother to talk nonsense with this stinking defeated man. He gave an order, and the captured Namsis was stuffed with a ball of rags in his mouth, and finally his face was tied with a rope. The man was still tied up, and Fisk asked the captors to keep him under strict supervision to prevent him from starving to death, dying of illness, or even taking the opportunity to break free from the rope and escape.