The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19. Ви Корс

“I’m Nikto, I’m reflecting”, and what are you going to reflect there? I didn't throw my boots at you!”

      Kors tried to remember everything he had done to Nik, and everything Nik himself had done to him:

      “Nik said, ‘I don't like beating you.’ My ass! In his Limit, he beat me not weakly! He didn’t pity me, he beat me with pleasure. He avenged me in full, both for his interrogation in prison and for Arel. He broke my nose, I was black with bruises, and he fucked me, enjoying the sight of my body covered with purple bruises, admiring my disfigured swollen face. Everything was fine and he liked everything. “I don’t like beating you” – oh yeah! He nearly killed me recently. If Arel hadn’t saved me, hadn’t distracted the Demon, he would have killed me. And yesterday. I still feel that hit. I was beaten with all might. I must have a concussion. Maybe it was not he, of course, but the prince, but in any case, he probably ordered this to be done. Or, even if he didn’t order, and it was entirely Arel’s initiative, he didn’t stop him. Didn’t say anything. I never beat him like that! What was I doing with him? Well… I insulted him, humiliated, “beat with words”, as he says, okay, that’s the least of my worries, these are just words. I tied him up, chained him up and blindfolded him. Well, it started yesterday. He dragged me on chains and blinded me. Also… I was beating him, not hard, but I was beating him. And I will get it, this is also understandable, it also started yesterday. What else? I put a bag on his head, put a stick in his… “Oh-oh-oh! – Kors literally jumped up in his chair, – Well, I have to distract myself now from this… What else could it be? Maybe there is something worse? I gave him a good beating with a belt for a lesson not learned, no… a stick seems to be worse. Shit! – Kors grabbed his captain’s cigarettes again. – Even at the celebration of the victory in Ore Town, I hit him in front of everyone at the table and knocked out his tooth. But damn it, I’m not to blame! Nik anyway had all his lower teeth staggered! I didn’t hit him too hard, the tooth fell out by itself, Prince Arel was the first to loosen them. No, the stick is the worst! Definitely it is the worst! I hope he doesn’t do it now, on the road, then I just won’t be able to get on the horse. No, he won’t. But when we return to the Black City, nothing will hold him back. What to do?! I have to fight, it’s pointless to ask for mercy. Should I call Zaf? He offered it himself. He worries about me because he knows his White Lord. Should I make another deal with the Demon? But what can I offer him? Money, slaves? The demon is not interested in it. Myself? Ha! The demon has taken everything from me! Pride, honor, affections. And love. The Demon has also taken my body and soul from me. Nothing is left. I have nothing to offer him. So what kind of deal can we talk about if I gave everything away a long time ago? And Nick won’t remember how much good I did for him, how I took care of him, treated him, dressed and fed him, he won’t “reflect” this, it’s clear, it’s not interesting to reflect love and care! What to do? To address Leonardo in the city? After all, we really didn’t quarrel, and formally remain friends. Leo has his own Demons, let him deal with my silly one. Gods, what am I thinking about?! Well, what is left? I need support. It is very difficult to live without the support of influential friends, and when you are with support, and the one who needs puts a word here and there, everything is completely different. I need patrons. Well. Zaf himself offered help, that’s great! And he has already warned about a certain “critical situation”. It’s a serious matter, I need to get out. In this, Lis was a master, that’s who could now help, calm the Demon and give me sensible advice on how to behave better. Well, at least he would just defuse the situation and make me laugh with a rude saying of commoners. Yes, Lis, you know how to joke, red-haired beast! But how to contact him? Lis doesn’t hear a damn thing, and neither does my daughter. Shit! Salafael! Should I try to get through to him? He’s the connection of the Demon with Lis. But maybe Salafael only hears the Demon? Or the Demon won’t allow to communicate with him? And if he does, what should I say to Salafael? “Go to Lis and say…” Say what? Tell him all the details? What if Lis is there with his father busy with the affairs of the city? Well, it doesn’t matter, nothing terrible, he will get distracted. What if he’s just lying around drunk? It’s more likely. Surely now his father does everything for him, as I did everything before. Lis can only look for trouble, drink and pour sayings. Salafael has Shag! And Zaf certainly has a connection with his brother! That’s already something!”

      Having outlined the circle of possible defenders, Kors calmed down a little. He will not be offended.

      “But why is Nik such a fool? Why?” Composure turned out to be short-lived, Kors couldn’t pull himself together. Thoughts swirled in his head over and over again. He went through all the possible options for future events in the third circle, over and over again thinking about the situation in which he found himself and how to get out of it with the least losses. All kinds of versions wound up on each other, the assumptions became more and more fantastic. One by one, Kors smoked Parky’s cigarettes, feeling that he was losing his last strength in empty fabrications, and couldn’t stop.

      “What could I be missing? What I didn’t pay attention to? What else can I think of? And how can Lis help? Lis bends himself. They rolled Lis themselves as they wanted before going to Ore Town. He got it great, and he obeyed. How will he help me? With a joke? In fact, I helped him. I acted as his patron, promised to persuade the Demon, change his anger to mercy, so that the Demon would finally allow Lis to wipe the shameful clown makeup from his face. However, I didn’t have time to do this, but Lis thought that I had asked for him, and said to me: “Thank you!” So Lis must now help me! Return a debt! What if I speak frankly with Leonardo in the city? The conversation is very difficult, and what will Leonardo say to this?

      “Mission accomplished!”

      Kors jumped sharply in surprise. The insane flow of his thoughts was interrupted by Parky. He had entered the tent, unceremoniously jerking Kors back to reality, and now stood in front of him, awaiting further orders.

      “Commander, everything is ready,” the unclean one reported again, seeing that Kors was just sitting, staring blankly at him, and was silent.

      “Ah… And… horse. Have you put my horse under a canopy?” Kors finally spoke up.

      “Yes, sir!” Parky saluted.

      “All right.” Kors had nothing to complain about. Parky’s tent was clean and free of luxuries, which Kors felt were not due to his subordinate. Ascetic, modest, nothing more than necessary. Kors’ tent was quickly set up by the unclean ones. The horse was being looked after. Kors got up, proudly straightened his back, and, making a stone expression on his face, headed for the exit. And noticing that he had left dirty footprints in Parky’s tent, he tried to make his face even more haughty.

      Entering his room, Kors saw Tyutya. She sat on her knees, her head bowed low, covered with a black cape, and next to her stood a basin of water. Kors understood everything, and immediately sat down on a chair. “If the water is cold, I will make you regret it!” he thought angrily, still wanting to vent his annoyance on someone. But the water in the basin was warm, pleasantly warming her cold feet. Tyutya very carefully and delicately began to wash off the dirt from his feet with a washcloth lathered with soap. Her hands were open, and Kors saw that a thin gold ring with a blue stone gleamed on the slave’s finger. “Oh, Parky, stupid wolf! What are you doing? Why do you give a useless cunning fox precious gifts? How does she do it? How does this red bitch manage to shake it out of him? After all, she has nothing! No tongue, no breasts, a dry cut hole. There is nothing, but, nevertheless, she has an influence on my captain, some kind of secret power, which she shamelessly uses for her own purposes and for her own good. She has hidden leverage, thought Kors, and I have no way to influence Nik! And why don’t I still have such an invisible power as Prince Arel has! That’s the only reason I can’t give them a fitting rebuff. Of course! Arel will quickly crush me with his strength, and Nik even more so possesses it to perfection. But not me! And they are not equal! Why do I hear useless thoughts, but I can’t squeeze anyone? Squeeze anyone’s throat!”

      Kors tried to imagine how he squeezes Tyutya’s throat. Parky followed Kors’ orders and covered the slave with a cape, but not the one she wore in the city. This cape was lighter and looser, made of thin silky fabric, falling down in beautiful folds, it didn’t restrict movement so much. On the head, over a long flowing shawl, was tied a wide forehead bandage, tightened with