I woke up—black snow, bodies in the square, crows tearing at flesh.
Ryazan was burned. The Tatars had left, but their Cuman hounds are finishing off the survivors. And nearby there’s a child with white hair calling me by name. He says I’m Ratmir, a warrior who promised to protect his family.
Me? Yesterday I lived in a completely different era. Today—bare among the dead, with someone else’s body and someone else’s memories.
What do I do?
There’s only one answer. Russians don’t cry—Russians fight.
I raised my sword, gathered those who were left, and for the first time I understood—my time is now here. The Tatars think Rus’ has already been conquered.
They’re wrong.
I’m not here to die together with Ryazan. I’m here to begin a liberation war.