Chapter XXVI: New Beginnings.

I sat in my small home in the lands of the Golden Horde, my wife by my side as I looked out the window at the rolling hills beyond. It had been many years since I had retired from my life as a military commander, but my mind was still sharp, and my memories of my past were vivid.

I looked over at my adolescent son, who sat at the table before me, a look of eagerness on his face. "Tell me another story, father," the boy said, leaning forward in his seat.

I smiled at my son, pleased to see the boy's interest in my past. "Very well," I said, settling back in my chair. "I will tell you of my time in the Eastern Roman Empire."

I began my story, recounting my early years as a young man in the Eastern Roman Empire. I had grown up in a time of great political turmoil, with the empire constantly under threat from invaders and internal unrest.

As I grew older, I found myself drawn to politics and military strategy, and I quickly rose through the ranks to become a trusted advisor to the emperor. I led many successful campaigns against the empire's enemies and was known throughout the land as a brilliant commander.

But my success did not come without its price. The Emperor himself conspired against me, accusing me of treason and other crimes. I was forced to flee the empire, taking refuge with the Teutonic Knights, with the help of your uncle George.

With the Teutonic Knights, I found myself in a new world, far from the intrigues and dangers of the Eastern Roman Empire. I quickly rose through the ranks of the knights, becoming their head of the military and leading them to many victories on the battlefield.

But even in this new world, I could not escape my past. My enemies in the Eastern Roman Empire continued to plot against me, and I knew that I could never return to my homeland.

And so, when I grew old and weary of the life of a warrior, I retired with my wife to the lands of the Golden Horde, far from the politics and strife of my past.

As I finished my story, I looked at my son, seeing the same passion for politics and military strategy that I had felt as a young man. "Remember, my son," I said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Politics and war are intertwined, and one cannot truly understand one without understanding the other. But always remember the cost of power, and the importance of using it wisely."

The boy nodded, taking in my words. I smiled, feeling a sense of pride in my son's eagerness to learn. For though my days as a commander were long behind me, I knew that my legacy would live on in my son, and in the lessons I had taught him.

"Father," my son asked, "you've told me so much about politics and military strategy, but I want to learn more about fighting. Can you teach me the ways of how did you fight in the past?"

I smiled at my son's request. It was clear that he had inherited my love for battle, and I was more than happy to teach him what I knew.

"Of course, my son," I replied, rising from my seat. "But before we begin, you must understand that the way of the sword of the Romans is not simply about brute strength and force. It requires a strategic mind and a deep understanding of your opponent's weaknesses."

I led my son outside, where I had set up a training area. I donned my armor, and my son followed suit, strapping on a breastplate and picking up a wooden sword.

I showed him the basics of it, demonstrating the intricate footwork and precise strikes that were used to defeat an opponent. I explained the importance of patience and timing, showing him how to wait for the right moment to strike.

As we sparred, I watched my son closely, seeing the spark of passion in his eyes. I knew that he had a natural talent for fighting, and I was proud to be the one to teach him.

As the sun began to set, we finished our training session, both of us sweaty and exhausted. I looked at my son, seeing the determination in his face.

"You have a natural talent, my son," I said, clapping him on the shoulder. "But remember, fighting is not just about skill and strength. It is about knowing when to fight and when to hold back. It is about understanding your opponent's weaknesses and using them to your advantage."

My son nodded, taking in my words. I could see that he was eager to learn more, and I knew that I had much to teach him.

As we made our way back inside, I felt a sense of satisfaction knowing that I had passed on a piece of my heritage to my son. For though my days as a warrior were behind me, I knew that my legacy would live on in my son, and in the knowledge that I had imparted to him.

The next day, I woke up early, feeling a sense of excitement as I prepared to teach my son the ways of Roman cavalry. As I made my way outside, I saw my son already waiting for me, dressed in his armor and looking eager to learn.

"Good morning, Father," he said, as he greeted me. "I'm ready to learn."

"Good morning, my son," I replied, smiling. "Today, I will teach you the ways of Roman cavalry."

I led my son to the stables, where I had already prepared the horses. I showed him how to saddle a horse and explained the importance of taking care of the animal.

"Remember, my son, a horse is not just a tool for battle," I said. "It is a loyal companion that must be treated with care and respect."

Once we were mounted on our horses, I showed my son the basics of cavalry formation, explaining how to maneuver the horse and how to coordinate with other cavalry soldiers in battle.

We rode through the fields, practicing various tactics and maneuvers. I showed him how to use the horse's speed and agility to his advantage, how to charge into battle and strike with precision.

As we rode, I shared stories of my time as a cavalry soldier, telling him tales of battles won and lost, and of the bonds forged between soldiers and their horses.

"Remember, my son," I said, as we finished our training session. "Cavalry is not just about charging into battle. It is about discipline, coordination, and strategy."

My son nodded, taking in my words. I knew that he had learned much that day, and I felt a sense of pride knowing that I had passed on another piece of my heritage to him.

As we dismounted and made our way back inside, I felt a sense of satisfaction knowing that I had taught my son the ways of Roman cavalry. For though my days as a soldier were behind me, I knew that my legacy would live on in my son, and in the knowledge that I had imparted to him.

As the days passed, my son and I continued our training, honing his skills in both Roman fighting and cavalry. However, our peaceful life in the Golden Horde was soon disrupted when a group of Ilkhanate raiders attacked our land.

I quickly donned my armor and mounted my horse, with my son following close behind. As we rode out to meet the raiders, I could see the fear in my son's eyes, but I knew that he had been trained well and was ready for battle.

The raiders were numerous, and their weapons were sharp. But my son and I fought with the ferocity of lions, using our knowledge of Roman fighting and cavalry tactics to gain the upper hand.

As we charged into the fray, I could hear the clash of swords and the screams of the wounded. But my focus was on my son, who was fighting with all his might, determined to protect our land and our people.

Despite being outnumbered, we managed to push back the raiders, striking them with our swords and using our horses to trample them underfoot. We fought with all our might, knowing that our lives and the lives of our people depended on it.

After what seemed like hours, the raiders were finally defeated, and we rode back to our home, exhausted but victorious.

As we sat down to rest, my son looked at me with admiration and respect. "Father," he said, "I never knew that fighting could be so difficult, but I'm glad that I have you to teach me."

I smiled at him, feeling a sense of pride in my son's bravery and determination. "You fought well, my son," I said. "And I'm proud to have you by my side. Remember, fighting is not just about skill and strength. It is about courage, determination, and the will to protect those you love."

As we sat there, recovering from the battle, I knew that our training had paid off. My son had shown that he had what it takes to be a true warrior, and I was grateful to have been the one to teach him.