Chapter 42 Gambling

Mungo jumped on his horse and looked back to the south. The estuary of the Rhoyne River was shrouded in darkness. He could only make out the vague figure of Volantis through the very weak light.

At this moment, when he looked carefully, he suddenly found that thousands of soldiers were climbing and fighting on the city wall.

Those figures were as dark as the night, as sharp and cold as scimitars, but more wild than flaming horses, exuding the breath of death. They were fearless, but almost killed and wounded by the arrows and stone bullets in the city.

"The Dothraki do not have the strength to conquer Volantis. The city wall is truly the greatest creation of human civilization." Mungo murmured calmly, "But I will come back and bring weapons that will scare the Volantis. To break through the black wall, in addition to the terrible human heart, we also need the terrible dragon."

"Kao."

The anxious shout fell, and Kosoro came running from the darkness. He just felt uneasy, as if his fate was under the observation and control of the gods. He was palpitating and couldn't breathe smoothly.

In his eyes, Kao rode on the horse and stood there for a while without moving. The whole person was like a lion who wanted to devour people, and suddenly seemed like a patient wolf king waiting there, waiting for prey to come.

"Okay, I'm fine."

Although Kosoro had no expression on his face, his eyes revealed concern. Mungo could guess what he was thinking. He waved his hand to indicate that he was safe, then kicked the horse's belly with his heel and left slightly faster.

Under the torches arranged in rows, the Dothraki roaring warriors walked slowly. When they saw Mungo galloping by, they made a very deafening noise, cheering and shouting the name of the khal.

The warriors looked energetic, respectful and fanatical, and their chests were straight. It was obvious that they had been well rested. Following the ancient traditions and indomitable spirit of their race, they were happy to follow the brave khal to fight, even in the dark and dangerous situation where there was no chance of winning, they were willing to follow the khal to life and death.

After routine inspection of the marching troops, Mungo rode his warhorse back to Kothro's side. He was anxious to give him another instruction.

Even though the Dothraki's victory in Qohor seemed very brilliant, compared with the current crisis, it was reduced to a common war process.

Mongol's serious eyes were fixed on Kosoro:

"This battle is different from the situation you encountered before. Abandon all the ancient traditions of the Dothraki people. You don't need to exhaust your strength to fight with the enemy's large army. You only need to leave a mark after I cross the river to lead the enemy to the east. The destination is still the planned mountain valley. If you can't do it, try your best to harass the enemy and don't let them cross the river. If the enemy returns the same way, try to delay time."

Kosoro sat up straight, holding the hilt of the knife at his waist, silently and attentively listening to Mongol's instructions. He nodded vigorously, as if to remind himself to remember everything he heard. Most of the time, his heavy eyes stayed on the ground, and occasionally he would look at the eastern sky, as if thinking about the future battle scene he saw there.

As the language of the instructions became more and more complicated, time slowly passed, and the army gradually marched to the banks of the Valanna River in the north.

Mongol found that Kosoro's hand was holding the hilt tightly, and his body was still trembling slightly. The joints of that hand looked pale and hard.

When he looked at the other party carefully again, he was surprised to find that Kosoro, who was always calm and composed, was actually worried, even afraid. The humid air became particularly stagnant and heavy at this moment.

"Kosoro." Mengge roared, with anger flashing in his eyes: "Are you afraid? Is it the stupidest thing for me to hand these people over to you to command? Put away your weakness, and the enemy will never give you a trace of sympathy."

Kosoro trembled all over, and his heart was shaking and struggling in confusion, worried that he could not control the responsibility and the situation.

Mengge had never felt such despair. If Kosoro did not have the confidence to contain the enemy's army, it would be enough to make this war fall into an irreparable situation. He lowered his head, and disappointment appeared on his resolute face.

"Kosoro, you are very determined and your perseverance far exceeds that of other Dothraki. Now the time has come. What makes you so cowardly?"

Kao's disappointment is far more difficult to accept than his anger. Finally, Kosoro said uneasily:

"Kao, I can dedicate everything to you. I shouldn't oppose your orders, but there are so many enemies. They may turn around and send people to entangle us. Then a bad battle will happen. The enemy will approach your rear and you will face a huge crisis."

Mongo sighed helplessly, rode his warhorse close to Kosoro, leaned over and patted his shoulder:

"War is a risky gamble. As you just said, this is just a possibility. Of course, everything is possible. You can't think too little, but you can't worry too much. The opportunity is fleeting. We can't launch an attack after everything is fully prepared, and we won't even have this opportunity."

The bells of Volantis in the south rang again. The low and muffled sound of peace and tranquility seemed particularly ironic in this endless darkness.

Mengge stopped his horse, listened attentively to the sound of the river rushing in the distant plain, and stared at the dawn in the east. He said firmly:

"Corsolo, mortals can only make the right choice at the time. We are warriors on horseback, and we must dare to take risks when necessary. I will not give up this opportunity easily. The key to victory lies in whether you have the courage to execute me. will.”

Hearing Kaa's words, Kosolo recovered from his fear. He raised his head and said:

"Kaa, I will never go against your will. The only thing I can be sure of today is that even if there is a glimmer of hope, I will try my best to lead the enemy to the east. Even if I risk losing everything, there will be nothing." The enemy army can cross the Varanna River, unless we are completely defeated and no one survives..."

Before Corsolo could finish his promise, he was interrupted by Mengge holding his shoulder:

"Even if the enemy pays double the number of casualties as ours, it is not worth it. The enemy can bear 20,000 casualties, but the sacrifice of 10,000 people is a heavy loss for us."

As the time approached morning, the light became brighter and brighter, and the long flames turned into rough black waves.

Mengge stared into Corsolo's eyes, lowered his voice, and continued sonorously:

"As long as you lead the troops to the south bank of the Valanna River, the enemy will not be able to cross the river with all their strength, nor will they be able to return smoothly on the same road. Kosolo, don't despise your own life. Apart from this war, I have other reasons to need you. "

As soon as he finished speaking, the horn sound of stopping the march came from the front of the team. In the morning, which was still shrouded in gloom, and before dawn, it kept echoing in the wilderness.

The Varanna River has arrived.

From now on, I will never drive home again during holidays, especially when I drive alone. The six-hour journey ended up taking more than ten hours.