In the muddy Siberian wilderness, two horses galloped and chased each other.

Both riders had typical Tartar faces, but the person in front wore a good-textured Turkic burqa with a big martened hood and a belt with gold and silver jewelry, which was obviously a Khanate nobleman.

The people behind were shirtless in the cold weather, their heads were shaved barely, with green skin exposed, and they rode their horses and waved their short hand-axe.

The Khanate nobles in front were carrying the Yatkan reflex scimitar from Tashkent on their waists. This reflex scimitar is shorter in length and good at close combat. Since it appears in windy and sandy areas, the scabbard often wraps the length of the handle, so there are no handguards or slugs, and there are huge shank ears at the end of the handle to facilitate the drawing of the knife.

But at this moment, the Khanate nobles had been scared to death, and their bodies on the horse were desperately lying forward, as if they were trying hard to get away from the pursuers behind, and they had no courage to draw their swords at all.

Fortunately, the horse under his crotch had excellent bloodline and his riding skills were stronger than the pursuers behind him. He still ran faster when both horses were gradually exhausted, so that the distance that was about to be caught was gradually widened again.

Realizing that the distance was getting farther and farther, the shirtless and bald pursuer frowned and threw his axe beside the road. With a little distress, he pulled out a French flintlock pistol from his waist and raised his hand to release it.

In the smoke of gunpowder, the Khanate nobles froze for a moment, then were carried by the war horse and ran forward a few steps. Their body tilted and fell from the horse, and their feet stuck in the stirrups were dragged for more than ten steps. The war horse finally couldn't hold on to such strength, and its speed slowed down and stopped.

The rider behind him quickly flew past, turned over and dismounted from the front with a smile, looked at the reward from the Tsar in his hand, put it back to his waist with satisfaction, pulled out the dagger from the worn leather boots, and pulled away the arm of the struggled Khanate nobles protecting their chests, and stabbed them twice in the chest.

Clean and neat.

After all this, he skillfully untied the belt of the Khanate nobles, lifted his foot and kicked the body aside, and tied the belt with the water bag and the scimitar around his waist.

In the process, he cursed at the corpse in the language of the Ross, as if it was because it was wasting precious gunpowder.

Then, he picked up the mink hat that landed on the ground, slapped the dust on his bare head, walked forward two steps, stroked his loose belly that was quickly hungry by Siberia, and roared happily at the endless wilderness, then turned his head suspiciously.

boots.

He took off his cracked boots and kicked them aside, took off the pair of scalp boots from the corpse of the Khanate nobles and compared them in his hands, bounced his legs and jumped onto his feet.

The boots were a bit big, but it didn't matter. The blood-stained burqa was pulled off and stuffed into the boot. Then he shivered with satisfaction, led two horses, pulled out the wine bag from the horse's buttocks and drank two mouthfuls, and walked towards the road when he came.

He didn't forget that the axe was thrown behind, and now he has to pick it up.

Before he could pick up the axe, there were waves of horse hooves coming from the field. More than a dozen Cossacks wearing wool hats were riding horses and running quickly, shouting from a distance: "Scoop!"

The nickname of this Cossack is Scoop, and its real name is Messeriak, and it is a hundred-man leader in the Yermak Cossacks.

Many people in Cossacks use nicknames, for example, Yermak, which means rice cooker. His real name is Vasily. When he was young, he used to pull fiber in the Volga River and worked as a chef. Because he knew how to cook, he was called rice cooker.

Until now, no one remembers his real name, only Yermak.

The same is true for the spoon. He was Yermak's right-hand man, and the person who called him was the representative of Yermak to announce the good news to the Tsar, Coritos, who had just returned from Moscow.

He brought back a large number of Tsar rewards to the Cossacks of Yermak, muskets, artillery, gunpowder, food and soju that they must survive.

Tsarist Russia basically did not drink alcohol in this era because they were poor and honey wine was too expensive, so they could not make any other wine except honey wine.

But Cossacks had to drink and warm up when they were away for a long time, which was also Corrizo's request to the Tsar, which was made from milk wine specifically from Kazan, and some grain wine.

Most Khans are unwilling to drink grain wine. They are drunk too much. They are windy and cold in the wilderness, so they are prone to die when going out for homework.

Cossack wants everything.

Corizo ​​saw the recurve knife on the waist of the spoon, and his face showed displeasure, and complained: "I just promised his son that you just wanted his clothes, and his wife and daughter were still waiting for him to go back at the banquet."

The spoon showed a honest smile, which was particularly cruel in this situation. He took the sheepskin coat from his partner and wrapped it around him, saying, "He kept running, what should I do?"

"I shouldn't have killed him." As he said that, the spoon took off his hat and rubbed his bare head, showing a look of distress: "I'm so thin that I'm extremely thin. I have scurvy without food in the city, and there are not many tribes outside who can stay..."

Corrizo didn't say more: "Forget it, get on the horse, go back and kill them all, there is a large tribe in the east."

"A new big tribe?"

Seeing the spoon coming, Corrizo on the horse's back nodded and said, "The escaped Karacha, the letter from Yermak who was sweeping up the Ertzis River, Karacha and Kuchukhan were split and wanted to surrender to us."

"Yermak asked me to take some people to help Karacha consolidate his territory. I originally wanted to take some people away from here, but there was no need to pick up forty good players."

In Corrizo's eyes, the surrendered Siberian Khanate tribes all looked the same, like trembling deer in the forest.

Apart from the stubborn and stubborn Kuchukhan, there is no fearful and respectable person on this land.

These inherited tribes are like breeding chickens. They are naturally not bad if they are kept for the Tsar and are not bad if they are killed and eaten.

Yermak had a vision. He realized that the reason why the troops lacked food in Iskell was that they killed all the surrounding tribes, so he tried to stop the Cossacks from looting and massacres.

But this is useless. His subordinates are too easy to kill people. A word, a look, or even a thought, a tribe is gone.

The most important thing is that the restraining subordinates need to send people, more than 500 Cossacks and more than 300 mercenaries, Yermark cannot tell everyone that killing is prohibited.

As a result, the people sent to join the robbery and joined Kehuan. What can I do?

The final result is that except for a few small tribes living in the forest that can hand over furs for the Tsar, they still exist, basically all tribes that have the ability to resist disappear into the massacre.

Now, the surrender of Chief Karacha is right now, and for the Cossacks of Yermak, they will immediately receive fresh food supplies and a new large tribe for them to plunder.
Chapter completed!