Текст книги "The Mist and the Lightning. Part 12"

Автор книги: Ви Корс

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“Well, the numbers are the same in all languages. You will understand,” Lis looked at him carefully. “What's the matter, Marcus? All the bad things are over. Come to your senses!”

But Marcus didn’t answer, he looked away. And Lis’ face became hard:

“Don’t disappoint me, don’t make me regret my kindness! Are you really going to commit suicide? Is Nikto right? So the Demon is right?!”

“No… no… but I can't make gunpowder!”

“Sit and learn!”

“Why all this? To kill as many people as possible?”

“Marcus!”

“Why are you doing it?”

“Do you want to return to the unclean?!”

“No!”

“Then what’s the meaning of this question?”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Go here! Sit down!” Lis opened the notebook in front of him. “Do you understand anything?”

Marcus glanced at the pages dotted with numbers and even seemed a little interested:

“It's chemistry.”

“Do you understand it?”

“Now, wait a minute, please.”

“Make it out clear. I have no time to wait, I will come to you later. You can watch everything here, touch it. Explore. This is your world now, study it, scientist!”

“A-ah? Will I stay like this… without clothes? Naked?” Marcus shivered.

“Do something, show what you can do. And the Demon will give you clothes, allow you to take off your mask and gloves.”

“Will you put the mask on me again? I don't see anything in it.”

“Marcus, you are not a human now. A person has a face and clothes. You haven't got it yet. And I can't do anything about it, I also obey. You have heard. I am your master, but he is mine. I am a slave to the Demon.”

“You have to be crazy to do this voluntarily,” Marcus whispered, looking at Lis with such fear in his eyes that Lis didn’t even consider it necessary to answer.

“Will you make gunpowder?” He just asked again.

“Did you save me because of this? When I said that I was a scientist, did you decide that I would make you gunpowder?”

“No. I pulled you out of there because I felt very sorry for you. About gunpowder it occurred to me later. And now I regret that I succumbed to emotions then!”

“No, don't be sorry! I will do!”

“Let's see,” Lis handed him a mask. “Put it on.”

And Marcus, unable to restrain himself any longer, wept bitterly:

“I can't do this… all this… my whole life… it was as if it was crossed out, on the day they grabbed me there, in the cave…”

“Well, why the hell are you going there alone, and even so far away? You entered their territory.”

“I studied stone flowers,” Marcus looked at the cabinet, inside which behind glass doors, interspersed with all sorts of artifacts, there were several stone flowers. “This… Nikto needs drugs? A stone flower is suitable for this. You just need to dry it and crush it. Or if you are sorry to ruin completely, cut slightly and collect the juice.”

“Marcus, you got me sick with your fauna!”

“Flora.”

“Stop shedding tears, it has already happened! And it was foolish to think that the unclean would chat with you, listen to your lecture on stone flowers and let you go. Your naivety has ruined you.”

“Yes,” Marcus agreed bitterly, awkwardly smearing tears across his face, trying to wipe them away, but he couldn't, because they continued to flow from his eyes, and he was unable to calm down. “But what you did to me, you… you look at me… everyone was laughing. Why aren't you laughing?”

“There’s nothing funny at all, dry your tears. If you shed tears in a mask, everything inside will be wet and very unpleasant.”

“I know,” Marcus sobbed convulsively.

“You can't help yourself with tears.”

“They… they got me dirty, not only my face, touched me, and inside too… they got all dirty, I can't forget it!”

“Stop your hysteria,” said Lis sternly. “The importance of it is not great. You shouldn't attach such great importance to this. It's just a body, the main thing is that your brains aren’t spoiled. Everything else is fixable. Feel less sorry for yourself.”

Lis looked at Marcus very seriously.

“Don't betray me,” he said again. “Don't make me believe the Demon is right.”

And, without putting on a mask on Marcus, he went out, closing the door behind him with a key.

He went down to the courtyard, where on the square lined with slabs Nikto and Kors gathered all their soldiers and were already waiting for him. And as soon as Lis came out, both the unclean and the mercenaries of Kors, the noble black ones, cried out:

“Hurray!”

They loudly, joyfully greeting their commander. The servant let the horse down. Lis jumped straight into the saddle, without even inserting his leg into the stirrup, the horse danced under him, now and then rearing up, Lis seemed not to notice this, prancing in front of his army:

“I congratulate you on our victory!”

Chapter two

The holiday

Even without having even gathered and buried all the killed, both their own and the reds, immediately after the inspiring congratulations of the commander Atley Alis, they began to drink. There was a lot of space in the Fort, furniture, utensils and supplies too. The unclean ones couldn’t be stopped, however, no one tried to do this. The warriors of Zaf and the remaining ones of Tazh settled in the left wing, but the tables were pulled out to the square, and they immediately began playing music, took several red maids and slaves. All women found in the Fort were spontaneously divided equally between the unclean and mercenaries. There were very few women in the Fort, literally a dozen maids and the same number of slaves. But the unclean were still satisfied with this, although the maids were frankly so-so. The mercenaries of Kors were located in the central part and annexes to the right. They remained about two-thirds of the original strength, and thus, Vitor Kors still had the largest number of soldiers. The black and the unclean, no matter how they fenced them off from each other, nevertheless, willy-nilly intersected, and in the limited space of the Fort it was simply impossible to do anything about it, so this question was also allowed to flow. Now, drunk with victory and a joint assault, the people and the unclean got along. Although most of the blacks held their celebration in the right wing, many went out to the square, mixed with the unclean. In the main hall, tables were set for the elite: commanders and those who distinguished themselves during the assault. Here were all the surviving militias of the prince, their commander Shrad, and between him and Seamus sat satisfied Anya, a gold chain glittered on her neck, a beautiful pendant lay between her lush breasts. There sat also a noseless boy, the one who, during the storming of their first Fort, far from the border, was frightened by the “shooting sticks” of the reds and fled from the battlefield, for which he was severely punished by the lynching of the militia. This time he fought desperately, was not afraid for his life and, under a hail of arrows, made a fire in time, giving a sign to the warriors of Tazh and Tarl. Now, sitting at the table, he was already pretty drunk, and his face, tied with a wide strip of black cloth covering the severed nose, was joyful. There was also a chef from the transporters, who was dressed up in the clothes of a warrior and put to Tazh’s detachment for “extras”, but this no longer young man entered his role so much that he fought on a par with others and even managed to kill several reds. Marmer, who had been wounded, and several of his remaining soldiers were also there. Everyone ate and drank and enjoyed themselves.

Holding a bowl filled with food from the holiday table, Lis came to Marcus. Seeing him, Marcus jumped up from his chair, his face was still the same bewildered and frightened:

“Forgive me for what I was talking then, I was not myself…” He began to say.

“Have you done anything?” Lis asked, and it was clear that he was only worried about this.

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

Marcus poured powder on the tip of a knife into a wide stone mortar, very little, literally a few grains, and set it on fire with a thin wick, dropping it into the bowl. The powder flared brightly, a loud bang was heard, and the room was clouded with smoke. Lis looked at Marcus, as if he could not understand how such a small amount of powder made such a fire:

“You did better than the reds,” he said, dumbfounded.

“Thank you,” Marcus shyly dropped his eyes.

Lis seemed to come to his senses and, grabbing a bowl of food, quickly shoved it to Marcus:

“Here, eat!”

“Thank you. Do you have a holiday? Congratulations on your victory,” Marcus said sadly. He turned to the window, located almost under the very ceiling of the low room, from there music, shouts and loud laughter could be heard. Lis also glanced at the window: the silhouettes of the celebrating warriors flashed through the dusty glass.

“Reds suck! The unclean ones decide!” Zaf's warriors shouted loudly.

“Yes. A holiday,” said Lis, suddenly clearly seeing Karina outside the window, her new white sheepskin coat couldn’t be confused with anything, and Nija, and the way their silhouettes approached each other. Lis froze, and then, as if coming to his senses, rushed out of the room, without even closing it, leaving Marcus in complete bewilderment.

Quite mellow Daniel Crassus, so in a simple, familiar way, slapped Nikto on the shoulder. Apparently, Nikto, in his understanding and according to the teaching habit, remained a commoner boy, whom he, like Lis, chased in school all his life, and this patronizing attitude had already become a feature of his character.

“Son of the Devil,” he smiled, looking at Nikto in a fatherly manner, like a wise mentor at a good student. “When you fight, this nickname suits you. You fight very well. How you and I smashed that fucking back gate of theirs!”

Nikto smiled too:

“Yeah…”

Crassus looked at Arel sitting next to Nikto:

“To give credit, Prince Arel fights better than anyone! You a little miss the speed, and he is very fast and powerful. His technique at an incredible level, I've never seen anything like this!”

“He was taught by the finest teachers of the Royal Academy, and then he fought for many years, every day. He's been at war without a break for more than ten years, do you think this will be noticeable?”

“Yeah,” Crassus looked at Arel with delight. He remained completely indifferent to these flattering words and praise, his handsome face didn’t express anything, as if Crassus was not talking about him at all, and Arel didn’t answer Crassus. And Crassus looked at the prince’s face, slightly arrogant in his indifference, only slightly shaking his head:

“After I saw him in battle, I consider the cruel punishment that our King applied to him to be unfair. To make such a good warrior an outcast!” And Crassus thought for a while, but quickly cheered up again, turning to Nikto:

“Well, what about you?! Tell me why do you look so girlish?!”

“Crassus!” Vitor Kors, who was sitting next to him, threw a glance at him of not eyes, but lightning.

Nikto, having heard such a comparison, at first was a little taken aback, but didn’t get angry at all, and then laughed sincerely:

“Because I am a white half-blood.”

Crassus laughed contentedly too:

“Was your mother white?”

“Yes. Mother is white, father is black,” Nikto answered, he looked at Kors, barely holding back a laugh. Kors suffered with the last bit of strength.

“Was she a slave?” Crassus asked. “All whites are slaves. Are you the son of a white slave and a black master?”

“I don't know for sure, I'm an orphan.”

“Why are you called the Son of the Devil? What is devilish about you?”

“My adoptive mother was a witch.”

“Come on! What was her name? When I was young, I had an affair with a young witch, oh… I still can't forget her!”

“Crassus!” Kors couldn’t restrain himself.

“What's wrong, Vitor? It's just a friendly conversation! Son of the Devil, you are like a girl, but do you have a girl?”

“I have a wife.”

“Come on! What about children?”

“I’ve got everything,” Nikto smiled.

And Vitor Kors looked at him, widening his eyes in surprise:

“I beg your pardon,” he said hastily, “I need to go out for a while…” And Kors got up and headed towards the stairs to the second floor, while in his thoughts he very clearly repeated the request that Nikto should come to him. Kors climbed the stairs to the gallery and looked down at the celebration. After a while, Nikto got up and left the hall, but it was clear that he heard Kors and would now approach him.

When Nikto left the table, Arel turned after him, following him with a gaze, Nikto saw that Daniel Crassus asked his prince about something, although according to the rules of the noble blacks, he couldn’t do this under any circumstances. But he did it in front of everyone, Kamiel Varah was sitting next to him, he didn’t interfere in anything, but watched everyone with obvious disapproval. Arel answered Crassus, giving the name of his teacher from the Academy. It was clear that Daniel Crassus, as a mentor, was interested in who taught Arel so well. But this was a violation of the rules and decency, and Crassus, in front of other true noble blacks, did not care about their laws.

Having made a circle around the gallery, Nikto approached Kors:

“And will you often give me mental orders now? It's hard for me to climb the stairs.”

“It was not an order.”

“Really? It sounded very similar.”

“Why didn't you tell me that you have a wife?”

“You didn't ask.”

“So is it true?”

“Yes.”

“And who is she? Well, tell me?”

“Unclean Amba.”

And Kors swore very softly and briefly.

“Ko-o-rs, don’t say such words, you’re not allowed to do it!”

“Hearing this, I can do anything. I won't even ask about children! I see you and Crassus have made friends?”

“Well, you yourself put him to me to hammer the gate. Cripples and old men below. Have you forgotten?”

“I didn’t call you a cripple, it’s he who put it that way, and after that you communicate with him as if nothing had happened! And he continues to humiliate you, saying that you look like a girl!”

“He doesn’t humiliate me. He is quite simple to communicate, not as pretentious as the others. And he really talks to commoners.”

“He says you are crippled and look like a girl! Is this not enough?”

“He's just kind, he just jokes a little mocks at me without any second thought, in a fatherly way.”

“Fatherly?!”

“A-ha-ha, you should have seen your face! Are you jealous? I really like Crassus.”

“And his stupid jokes?!”

“Yes.”

“I think Alis correctly called him an asshole!”

“Ko-o-ors, Daniel Crassus is your old friend!”

“Not anymore! After he called my son a cripple!”

“He talks with Arel in front of other black sirs, and this is ignominy for him. Your friend Kamiel Varah doesn’t speak to us and looks very disapprovingly. And now he understood our maneuver with you. You, Kors, would not have communicated better with me in front of them, because I am also ignominious.”

“Do you, Demon, like humiliating my son? And when is he humiliated by others?”

“Kors, don't be like that…” Nikto began, but both he and Kors were involuntarily distracted from the conversation, seeing how Lis quickly entered the hall, and he led Karina next to him, somehow suspiciously squeezing her by the forearm, roughly threw into place at the table and hit. Karina shielded herself with her hands, bending over, slightly moving away from him further. But she made no attempt either to evade or to fight back.

Kors literally changed his face:

“What does he allow himself!”

Nikto grabbed Kors by the hand, not letting him go:

“Don't, don't interfere.”

“She's my daughter!”

“She's his wife!”

“And did he do that to her often?!”

“Everything is within the limits of your decency, Kors, calm down. Trust me, if Lis wanted to harm her, he would hit her differently.”

“Excellent! Maybe I should go thank him?! Why did I bless them! I had to come not to put up with you, but to bring the army to the Estate, take your daughter and leave!”

“What about Nik? Your son? Don't you need him anymore?”

“Gods, I need him, of course! But I still want to talk to this redhead!”

“It's useless! Don't touch Lis, don't provoke him.”

“What's the matter? You yourself seem to be afraid of him! Prince Arel obeys him, you will not make another remark, you let him get away with everything!”

“Because he won't listen anyway! He's out of control. Do you understand?”

“And you, Demon, can’t put him in the frame?!”

“I can, but then I'll just break it! I don't need a broken Fox, I just need a broken Arel.

“I’ll go and tell him anyway!”

“He will send you to hell, Kors, and that's it. He doesn’t hit undeservedly, Lis is fair in his own way.”

“Doesn't he hit undeservedly? And, that is, she deserved it?!”

“Well yes! She is as cocky and uncontrollable as he is. Since she didn’t give him back, then she herself understands what she received. She doesn't need your protection.”

But Kors couldn't leave it that way. He came down from the gallery and went to Lis:

“We need to talk. Let's step aside?”

Lis glanced quickly at Kors with his sharp eyes, and his mouth twisted in a haughty half-smile, it was obvious that he understood everything:

“Okay…”

They went into the room that Lis had occupied for himself. Karina already ruled here with her feminine hand: lace napkins and embroidered bedspreads were beautifully laid out on all surfaces, all sorts of figurines and beautiful dishes were placed. Skillfully made lifeless flowers stuck in vases. The room didn’t at all resemble the dwelling of a daring military leader.

Lis turned to Kors.

“I'm listening to you.”

“I demand to stop beating my daughter, especially in front of everyone!”

“Beating in front of everyone? Is it possible without witnesses? What a hypocrite you are, Kors.”

“Don’t cling to words. How did she deserve this treatment?!”

“That’s none of your business!”

“Explain to me? I know that she has not great character, perhaps I will find at least some excuse for your act.”

“The last thing for me is to complain to you! This is ridiculous.”

Karina ran into the room:

“Father, leave him alone!”

“He beats you, and you protect him!”

“That's my fault!”

“What have you done? He doesn’t speak. He covers you. I hope this is something really awful, otherwise I see no excuse.”

“I sucked with Nija.”

Kors shook his head, trying to understand her phrase:

“W-w-what were you doing?”

“I kissed with Nija! We congratulated each other on the victory, somehow wrong…”

“Nija?” Said Kors in confusion.

“Reconnaissance commander.”

“Is this the one with the least number of soldiers in the squad? And on the head instead of hair tangled long sticks? But, he's unclean!”

“So what?!”

“Are you out of your mind?!”

Kors looked at Lis, who, as usual, made a contemptuous displeased face, his trademark mask.

“And…” Kors seemed to gather his strength. “Well, why did you choose the poorest? After the storming of the Fort, he had no soldiers left. I would choose this one… how is he… Tazh. Oh, yes, he already has a boyfriend. Well, then Zaf, whoever has enough warriors left, and such precious stones in his nose. It is immediately obvious that he is rich. Why did you choose the most worthless?”

“Father, leave me alone,” Karina said, and her voice was icy.

“You know what,” said Kors, “you really are worth each other!”

He left, slamming the door loudly.

He returned to Nikto.

“She says she kissed one of your unclean ones. Have you fucked her all up here? My daughter is a whore and Alis is an idiot.”

“I told you not to touch them.”

“But I didn't even imagine…” Kors was depressed. “She's the same as you. She is drunk now or on drugs, or she, as you say, is dull. Did she sleep with you? And with the prince? How could Alis agree to marry her! And I also demanded,” Kors chuckled, “as if she was a decent girl. And she is a drug addict and a slut who sucks, as she put it, with unclean ones. She said it so calmly in front of him. Your Lis is probably just crazy. Although his mother was the same, apparently he got used to it.”

“Stop it, Kors! Karina is a warrior and a very nice girl. You should be proud of her! We all love each other very much, we are one loving family!”

“And they will stay together after this?”

“Well, of course! Don't worry, Lis won't disgrace your daughter, he won't kick her out.”

“And I would have kicked her out!”

Karina and Lis stayed in the room together.

“Why did you tell him? You disgraced me!”

“Fuck him!” Said Karina. “Forgive me.”

“Everyone has already understood that I am used to endured. And now your father too.”

“Well, send me then to hell, if their opinion is important to you! I'll leave, and everyone will say that you are cool!”

“And… will you leave?”

“Yes!”

“I cannot drive you away!”

“Why? I shame you. Drive me away, restore your honor in front of them, and I will go and throw myself off the wall!”

“You have lost your mind!” Lis grabbed her. “I love you! I don't give a fuck about their opinion!”

He pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers, kissing her greedily, but at the same time without making any sudden movements, Karina went limp in his arms, feeling how tightly he squeezed her, for sure bruises would remain from his fingers again, well, let it be! The sensation of his forked tongue alone drove her crazy, making her gasp in a pre-orgasmic state.

He pulled back:

“Well? Is it better with me? Or with Nija?”

“Stop it! You are welcome! Stop it, you're the best!”

“My tongue is crippled, but his is normal,” Lis sat down on the bed, he looked very sad now, depressed, somehow discouraged. On very rare occasions, she saw him like this. Lis who didn’t build anything of himself. Lis without his eternal mask of cynical indifference, his usual impudent coolness. And these moments of his vulnerability, defenselessness frightened her and at the same time covered her with a wave of indescribable tenderness. Even she rarely saw such real Lis, the protective expression on his face was so familiar to him. It didn’t change, no matter what happened to him. Poor Lis, always hiding behind the insolent grin of a slightly raised contemptuous corner of his lips. And now he was so discouraged, unsettled by her act, that he even got lost.

“Don’t say that. You are the best!”

He grimaced, regaining control of the situation. He slightly poked the tip of the forked tongue out of his mouth and moved separately, first with one part, and then with the other:

“Do you like it?”

“Stop doing that!” She screamed in despair, and he grinned bitterly and evilly. Karina rushed to him, hugging, kissing, rolling him backwards. He immediately turned her over to be on top. In fact, Kors found the last educational surge of Lis, and before that, taking her away from the square, he dragged her around in the corridor, just without extra eyes and witnesses.

Lis pulled back and looked at her thoughtfully:

“Should I break your face, or something…”

“No, no, please forgive me,” Karina, scared, twitched under him, trying to slip out, but Lis only squeezed her harder.

“It’s all going to end badly,” he said very seriously. “I’m barely holding back so as not to cripple you, do you understand that?”

“Yes. Yes. My beloved…”

“Shut up,” he again dug into her mouth with his lips, Karina responded to the kiss with all passion, inside without relaxing, realizing that he had not yet completely calmed down and that she still would get it, and he had not finished and can beat and fuck her now long. If only he didn't touch her face, as he always did, he didn't spoil her beautiful face. And as if confirming her fears, or rather, she simply already knew him too well, he, without stopping kissing her, briefly punched his fist below and slightly on the side of her abdomen, forcing her to twitch under him and feeling this jerk of her lips, the way she twitched into kiss, trying to open it, Lis didn’t let her go. She didn't resist anymore, and only then he pulled back. Karina hugged him, hugging him lovingly, looking at his face covered with thin, barely visible streaks of scars. He looked at her too, and now there was no more confusion in his gaze. Slightly moving down, he began to kiss her neck, which in the past, when his teeth were still sharply filed, he ruined, leaving marks forever. The fox began to undress her, he no longer hit, and Karina relaxed a little. He kissed, going down lower and lower, chest, stomach, and Karina realized what he wanted to do, and froze with fear and delight at the same time, that was the best!

Although Kors returned to the festive table, his mood was no longer festive. Drunk Anya, throwing her crossed legs on the table, leaned back strongly in her chair and fell backwards with a crash. Everyone started laughing, but Kors didn't even smile.

He couldn’t find a place for himself and after a while, unable to resist, got up and, without saying a word to anyone, went back to the Lis’ room. He worried about Karina, despite her unforgivable behavior. But approaching their door, while still in the corridor, Kors heard such loud and pleasure moans of his daughter that he stopped dead. His face twisted, and Kors rushed back.

“I remember how I made Atley Alis stick a needle in his hand between his thumb and forefinger,” flushed from the drink, Crassus continued to communicate with Nikto as if nothing had happened, indulging in memories. Unlike Varah, who looked at Nikto with undisguised superiority and even some kind of contemptuous grin, Crassus, it seems, was not embarrassed by either Nikto’s gray face, or eyes outlined in black, or hands black from tattoos. He perceived Nikto and Prince Arel as warriors and didn’t judge people by their appearance, like other noble blacks.

“All the boys whined and shook, they were so afraid of this punishment! And he endured! All classes, for several hours, he walked with a needle in hand, in silence! Even then I realized that a good deal would come out of this half-blood. He endlessly did push-ups, pulled himself up and held his sword in his outstretched arms like a cute one. Oh, others howled when their hands were taken away to hold and it hurt. And he did everything in silence. As a young wild animal, really!”

“They called him Lis then?” Nikto asked, trying not to meet his eyes with the mocking look of Kamiel Varah, from which he felt uneasy.

“After all, he was like a little red fox. Everyone began to call him that. His surname also combined well, so they called him Alis-Lis. And when he hit the first line, I was so proud of him! Not only did he survive almost one of all the recruits, he also distinguished himself! I wanted to put him on the list of those presented for the award for courage, but in the next battle he was captured, I was so upset, because I had invested so much in him!”

“Did you beat up the boys in your school?” Nikto asked, smiling. And Daniel Crassus also grinned content, clearly not feeling any remorse:

“How could it be otherwise! How much I beat and tortured them! They flew from me!”

Kamiel Varah shook his head accusingly and left the table.

“Crassus, did you make Lis wear the signs of half-blood?”

“These are the rules, how many orders he received from me out of turn and sat in the punishment cell, he still pulled them out! He so annoyed me that I waved my hand at that! I forced him only when the higher authorities came for a review. Damn, he is like my own son!”

Kors returned to the table.

“Well, doesn't he hit her? You have such a face,” Nikto asked him, since Daniel Crassus lagged behind him for a while and went out to freshen up.

“No, he's fucking her!”

“What?! Kors, what did you say?” Nikto began to laugh. “A-ha-ha.”

“Yeah…” Kors looked embarrassed.

“Is it possible for noble sirs to say that?”

“Well, I've already degraded here with you. With whom you lead, from that you will gain.”

“Come on, I will let your son go for a little while. Do what you want with him. Maybe this will comfort you a little?”

“Yes,” Kors replied sadly. “Thank you.”

Chapter three

Verniy

Nikto entered the luxurious toilet room in which his Verniy now lived. Everything here was not at all as modest as in the Prince’s Estate. Khabir was sitting on a low satin sofa, leaning against the back, he was without his helmet, covering his head, and stripped to the waist. Valentine was sitting on Verniy’s lap, hugging him. In his hands he held a glass with a healthy drink of unclean ones and drank it through a metal tube, with the help of which he could only quench his thirst, slipping it from below under the muzzle. Valentine drank slowly, with pleasure, the drink was sweet, and, unlike Arel, the unfortunate guy liked it very much, because Valentine loved sweets and tried very few of them in his life. And Verniy, pampering him, diluted the necessary ingredients, making the drink for the slave boy sweeter than necessary. Therefore, now Valentine, pressing the back of his head against the fur-covered chest of the unclean dog, and covering his almost blind eyes, was resting, enjoying the moment of peace. And Verniy hugged him affectionately, so small, thin, not really grown in his almost sixteen years. Nikto, seeing this picture, grunted, said aloud in the unclean:

“Ver, don't get attached to him. Arel often kills his slaves, and he will kill Valene will sooner or later.”

Ver pressed the boy closer to him:

“Master, don't let him!”

“Ver, he'll just hit him unsuccessfully and that's it, my order won't save you.”

“Don't let him beat him!”

“I treated Valene, forbade hitting him in the eyes, is that not enough? Valene… tine is the property of the prince. Do you want me to take away his only toy from Arel? Kors took the horse away from him and will not give it back now. He pranks on Arel’s hundred thousand coins horse and believes that it should be so! And Lis left him without people. I'll take Valene too, right? I love Arel!”

“Even too much!”

“I love you too! Don't be jealous! Choose whoever you want, I'll give it to you.”

“I like this!”

“Fuck you! You are like children, in fact, everyone needs his particular toy and no other! I won't take him from Arel. This is not up for discussion!”

“Order him to remove his muzzle at least.”

“So that he put him in a deaf helmet, like yours? No! And let him do what he wants with him! Play with Valene when the prince is not up to him, I don’t forbid!”