Although the balance of offense and defense between Russia and the Ottoman Empire had long since reversed, the chances of encountering Ottoman slave-raiding bands directly, as the old lieutenant had in his childhood, were slim. Even the Ottoman authorities had officially put an end to such practices.
Yet the enormous profits of the slave trade meant that slave raids had never truly ceased. They had merely shifted from large-scale plundering to small-scale harassment, from brazen acts to furtive dealings.
The primary means of acquiring slaves had also changed from outright robbery to enticement and kidnapping. The most classic method was offering high prices for firewood in order to win the victims' trust.
Wanting to earn more money, the victims would usually bring more firewood to sell. Those targeted by the slave traders were generally poor young people or half-grown children. Their means and life experience did not support more commercial methods, so they would seek help from friends and relatives, then bring everyone to the area designated by the slave traders.
That way, the slave traders could bypass Russian checkpoints and patrols without lifting a finger, catching all their victims in one sweep.
Moreover, quite a number of Russians were also part of the slave-trading chain of profit. These moles would lure people out under the pretense of offering jobs, adventures, or excursions. Some even encouraged serfs to flee.
The memories of history and the folk songs widespread throughout Russia allowed the soldiers to feel it in their bones.
Inside the Russian command headquarters, the long-missed scent of meat made the officers' mouths water. Commander Alexander Prinsky raised his wineglass high.
"To victory! Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
"Brothers, I have just received a personal letter from Prince Menshikov."
A wave of startled exclamations immediately swept through the room.
"Silence!"
Alexander Prinsky carefully