The Battle of Nomads

1

The year was 1238. It was January and everyone living in the Kingdom of Hungary were civilized. The women were either providing the family food and clothes, gathering the crops, or were dancing and singing folk songs. The men were working in the farms or were practicing to fight as a soldier or a knight. Sometimes they would practice weapon dances such as the Ugrós. The culture of Hungary was significantly different comparing to their neighbouring countries. They were isolated.

You see, Hungary was formed only 400 years ago. It is said that they came from the Ural Mountains which is in modern day West Siberia, Russia. It is the gateway between Europe and Asia. There were tribes that were Uralic and Turkic which formed an alliance. They were nomads and wanted settle somewhere, somewhere far from their ethnic homes. Eventually in the 9th century, they settled in the Carpathian Basin and formed of what it is called now, Hungary. One of the leaders who led the migration was Árpád. People to this day look up to him and see him as an important figure in shaping Hungary. 

The weather in Transylvania was freezing but it wasn't snowing. You could see the air coming out of the people's mouths. Fortunately there was fire and enough food to go around. Hungary was a multi-ethnic place; there were Hungarians, Wallachians, Romanies, Pechenegs, Turkic tribes, Romans and many more. In a small village in the east of Transylvania, there was a boy who was practicing sword-fighting with his older cousin. They clash their wooden swords with each other, both pushing for dominance. The younger gave in and fell to the ground and before he could pull himself up, his cousin pointed the wooden sword towards his neck and grinned because he knew the younger would lose. The boy frowned and groaned out of anger and frustration. 

"This isn't fair!" the boy complained. His cousin pulled him up back on his feet. The boy was about 17 years old and was fairly handsome for his age. He had cool skin. His hair was short, dark brown. His eyes were bright brown, you could mistake it as hazel. He had an average height and weight. The boy's name was István; he wasn't a peasant nor royalty. Not too poor and not too rich. He was raised only by his mother, Réka. His father had disappeared when he was only 5. No-one knows where he went and everyone in the village thought that he was a generous and witty man. Most think that he's presumably dead. Some say that he ran away from to find love or be with his ancestors in the east as he seemed disconnected with his own family. Others say that he was kidnapped by unknown tribes. To this day Réka finds it difficult to raise her two children; her friends say that ever since her husband disappeared, she lost the brightness in her eyes, her smile yet she still stays strong because she'll never want to end up like her husband and she wants to see her grandchildren. Luckily, István's younger sister, Anikó couldn't remember her father disappearing; she was only 1 when he was gone. Anikó was a few centimetres shorter than her brother, she was a bit skinnier than him. She always had her hair tighed up into a small bun.

"You told me not to go easy on you." says Attila. He was István's older cousin. He was 30 years old and he was quite a muscular man. He had long hair which was tied up. Atilla was half Hungarian, half Wallachian (Romanian). He had olive skin and had a big moustache which was very thick and it covered a small part of his upper lip. Even though he was 30, he looked much older, due to the grey strands of his hair and wrinkles on his face.

To István, he saw Atilla more than a mentor, he saw him as father. He grew up with him since he was a toddler and helped him when he needed him the most. He taught him stuff that his mother couldn't teach.