The Mist and the Lightning. Part I. Ви Корс

the upper society, rich, noble – exactly what he needs."

      "Then tell me what you know of him!"

      "Destiny brought us together in the far west. My squadron attacked a caravan of a slave trader. He sold them in village markets. One of those slaves was Nikto. We freed them all and hanged the trader. Many of the men we had freed joined us. We took the ill ones to our camp. The first one who noticed Nikto was an old warlock from my suite. He told me: 'I feel he's dangerous, Mark, we should get rid of him.' I just laughed – but I was stricken with the color of Nikto's hair. At first I took him for an old man, his face was hidden behind a black mask. I asked the slaves who joined us: 'Who's that old man?' They said: 'We don't know. He was picked up on the road.' He was very ill, never said anything, and the slaves didn't see his face. But the servants of the slave trader who had seen Nikto's face begged not to take him along. They told their master such a slave would bring bad luck. But the slave trader didn't listen to them. Then I took off his mask and saw a young man who had no undamaged place on his face. He was cut in a way that even my experienced warriors were shocked. I saw the traces from 'black water' on his arms, the collar, the wounds from chains, tattoos of the Unclean and I figured out he managed to escape.

      "I couldn't miss such a chance! We treated him, healed his wounds. In exchange I asked him to tell me everything he knew. At first he kept silent. And had he not wanted to help us, he wouldn't have said a word, no matter what we'd do to him. I raised my sword over his head several times, and he didn't even flinch, as if he didn't fear death but on the contrary, desired it. But I couldn't kill him. I got to love him. He was so young yet so tortured. At some moment I understood that I'd just let him go, and it was when the warlock told me Nikto was ready to tell us everything he knew. The old warlock said: 'He's reading our thoughts,' and I think it was true. Nikto understood what I thought of him, what I felt. It was his way to thank me. The warlock and all the Unclean called and keep calling him 'son of the Devil' but I don't believe it. Could a son of the Devil respond to kindness like that? Only later I understood what he'd done for me. He'd been so far west as no one else had.

      "He drafted the layouts of farms and villages of the Unclean, told about their outposts and other things. Without him I wouldn't have had triumphed! I asked him if he'd follow me but he refused. Then I promised to avenge him, avenge everything that'd been done to him.

      "He said to me: 'What the Unclean did to me is nothing in comparison with what others had done before them.' I said: 'They slashed your face.' He said: 'I did it myself.'

      "He said it so seriously that I felt uneasy. And I didn't ask him anything else.

      "We parted. I went to the west and he, to the east. Bidding farewell I warned him that the Unclean would get him sooner or later, to punish him for betrayal. He just smiled. He probably knew what he was doing.

      "That woman – Amba – he described her to me, said she was his owner and asked not to torture her but to kill her quickly. But she is very cunning and when I killed all her family, she wrote to me asking to take her to Nikto to the city, and then no Unclean in the city would harm me.

      "She wrote about Nikto: 'I hear him, he needs me.' And I took her along. When we arrived to the city, Nikto came and took her away. And the king of the Unclean didn't do anything to me, or to my people, or to Nikto, or to her. You know they even respect Nikto for avenging his humiliation and fear him. The Unclean from the city don't particularly like their western congeners at all. But I think Nikto is a human being, he needs to live among humans, he suffers living with aliens."

      "What you told me is terrible," Orel said. "That Unclean knows that because of him all her family was killed. And she still loves him as if nothing happened?"

      "Yes, they are like that." Mark laughed. "She's even proud of him, and she doesn't care shit about her family. Well, is it enough for you? You can ask him about the rest."

      Orel sighed.

      "My people are absolutely against him."

      "You know what?" Mark smiled. "Take them tomorrow night to the Lower Coliseum. Nikto will be there, and when they see him fighting, they will beg you to take him on the team!"

      "What would I do without you, Mark!" Orel's eyes flashed with joy.

      Chapter 3

      The Agreement

      "He isn't coming," Enriki said.

      "He will come," Orel argued.

      "If I were him, I wouldn't come," Enriki said. "Definitely."

      "But you are not him!" Orel stabbed Enriki's chest with his finger in annoyance. "You are not."

      "All right." Enriki raised his hands. "Fine."

      A servant brought a tray with wine, bowed and started putting glasses on the table.

      "He's here," Lis said quietly; from his place he could clearly see the entrance. Everyone froze.

      "Is it really him?" Orel asked.

      "I swear. He has your cloak and he's coming right up here," Lis whispered looking down at his glass quickly.

      "Get out," Orel hissed at the servant who dropped the tray and disappeared in a moment. Nikto came up to them.

      "Hello."

      "Hi. Take a seat." Orel pointed at the chair on the opposite side of the table, in the corner.

      The tables here were separated by high walls. Tol got up to let Nikto in. Nikto glanced at Tol and took the offered place without saying a word. When he pushed off the hood and let the cloak slip from his shoulders. Nikto's blonde hair fell onto his forehead, and he shoved it aside with a familiar gesture of his fingerless hand. The only difference was that they had seen his scar then and now his face was hidden behind a black mask.

      "You can take your mask off," Orel said. "It's our place, feel at home here. Besides, it'll be difficult for me to talk to you without seeing your face."

      "Fine." Nikto removed his mask.

      "Care for a drink?" Orel put a glass in front of him. "I think you know what we called you for."

      "No." Nikto took the glass and leaned back in the chair.

      "No?" Orel was slightly surprised.

      "The Unclean gave me a note with time and place."

      "But did you figure out it was from us?"

      "No. But when I saw you, I did."

      "You've come to a meeting without knowing whom you'll meet?" Enriki asked in surprise. "It's not reasonable."

      Nikto smiled.

      "The note was not from you but from my friend, I was going to see him. When I saw you, I understood you found me with his help."

      "Yes, that's right," Orel said. "It was Mark who helped us. And I'll tell you something for you to see that we are frank about it. Before meeting you we gathered some information on you. And…"

      It seemed to Orel Nikto was smiling. But his lips didn't curve, just his eyes sparkled as if laughing. At that moment Orel recalled Mark's words: 'Nikto is reading our thoughts, and I think it is true, he understood what I thought of him.'

      "But you likely know that," he said in confusion.

      "No, I don't. I haven't seen Mark for a long while, just got that note. But I can imagine what he told you of me."

      "Nothing bad, I can assure you!"

      "Well, prince, I don't mind him calling me for a meeting with you – as well as sharing his impressions on me. Let's be done with this topic and talk about business. What is it you want?"

      "We want… well, I think you know what!"

      "Again you say I know. No, I don't. How can I know if you haven't said anything?" Nikto put down his glass. "We want from you guess-what. It could've been funny if it were not coming from you. You know, prince, I start regretting I've come."

      He got up but Tol blocked his way.

      "Nikto, wait, we wanted to invite you on our team. Haven't you read our thoughts?"

      Orel