Borislavitch, who had passed the night at a village by the wayside, was roused hurriedly next morning at daybreak, and bidden to wait till the prince should recall him. Some hours later a second message came, asking him to return. When he reappeared at Vladimirko’s palace, servants clothed in black came out to meet him. In the chief seat was Yaroslav, son of Vladimirko, dressed in black; his boyars also were in black, every man of them. Yaroslav burst into tears as he looked at the envoy, who learned at once how Vladimirko had died in the night, though in perfect health a few hours earlier. “God has shown his will,” said Yaroslav; “thou art called back to hear these words from me. Go thou to Izyaslav, bow down to him and say from me: ‘God has taken my father, be thou in his place. There were questions between thee and him, those questions the Lord will judge as he pleases. God has taken my father and left me here in place of him. His warriors and attendants are all at my order. I salute thee, O father, receive me as thou dost Mystislav, thy son. Let him ride at one of thy stirrups, and I with my forces will ride at the other.’” The boyar went home with this message, which seems to have been sent to win time and lull Izyaslav, for no towns were returned, and all things remained as they had been. Hence, in 1153, the Grand Prince again moved against Galitch. The two forces met at Terebovl, but the battle was strangely indecisive as to victory, though its results were more useful to Yaroslav than to the Grand Prince. One part of the Kief force defeated one part of Yaroslav’s army, while the other part of those forces was badly beaten and pursued by the Galitch men. Izyaslav, impetuous as usual, broke the ranks of his opponents and drove them far from the first place of onset, but his brothers and allies were beaten, and hopelessly scattered. Izyaslav, having no forces with which to continue the struggle, returned to Kief and abandoned all plans against Galitch. Some months later he married a Georgian princess, and died shortly after, 1154. Kief and the south mourned greatly for this prince, and most of all mourned Vyatcheslav his uncle. “Thou art where I ought to be, but against God all are powerless,” sobbed the old man, bending over the coffin. If in Kief men were saddened by this death, they rejoiced in Chernigoff immensely. Izyaslav, son of David, who yearned for Kief as a man yearns for her of whom he is desperately enamoured, set out for the city at once, but was stopped at the Dnieper by Vyatcheslav, who sent this inquiry: “Why hast thou come? Who has called thee? Go back to thy Chernigoff.” “I wish to weep over my cousin. I was far from him when he died. Let me weep at his coffin,” implored Izyaslav. By the advice of the boyars, and the son of the dead prince, this request was rejected. They dared not trust the son of David, and were waiting impatiently for Rostislav to take the place of his brother.