“Lis likes it when she sits next to him, admires and admires him, looks with loving eyes,” Nikto also mentally answered him.
Kors just shook his head, opened his cigarette case in frustration and saw that, on top of that, his favorite cigarettes had run out, and he hadn't even noticed it. Kors feared smoking cigarettes of Nikto, expecting to find there something else besides tobacco.
“Alis, give me a cigarette.”
Without looking, Lis handed him his pack.
Kors inhaled nervously.
“How strong, you motherfucker! Alis, what strong cigarettes you smoke, one after another! Are you crazy?!”
“What I need, I smoke,” answered Lis, not taking his eyes off the plan. “I’ll have to shit, I will shit. You are not a decree to me.”
“Alis!”
The noble blacks of Kors entered the living room.
All the remaining mercenary commanders came. Initially, there were eight of them, including Vitor Kors himself. There were now six left.
Daniel Crassus, despite his advanced age, looked cheerful, fought well and established himself as an experienced and dangerous warrior. And also, he was a great mentor for his young soldiers, whom he brought with him from training. Kamiel Varah, despite all his pretentiousness and arrogance, also showed himself from the best side. Salafael Mirt arrived, and two more remaining commanders: Zagpeace Gezaria and Ariel Riel. The unclean ones came: Zaf, Nija and Tazh, as well as Shrad, the head of Price’s militia, and the red warrior Marmer. When everyone was seated at the table, Lis began:
“First of all, I want to thank you all. You are excellent warriors and commanders. The reds got a kick out of it today if they thought to crush us in a couple of hours! But let's get back to business now, because the situation is critical and we don't have much time to discuss a plan to defend the Fort. They will probably start the assault again at dawn. Does everyone already understand black? Zaf, Tazh, Marmer, do you understand black more or less? I don't have time to repeat the same thing a hundred times.”
“I understand,” Marmer said.
“Well, you understand, you communicate a lot with Shrad and other militias,” said Lis, “Zaf? Tazh?”
“I understand,” Tazh said with such a terrifying accent that at that moment it was necessary to see the faces of the noble blacks of Kors. And Zaf was silent and he looked at Nikto, who at the last meeting translated the words of Lis for them. Lis noticed this:
“Zaf, you know black!”
But Zaf didn’t answer, the flame of the candles was reflected in his precious plugs, and the stones in the deformed nostrils shone brightly, iridescent. Lis took a breath and let it out with a noise, slightly protruding his lower lip, as if barely holding himself back, and thus trying to calm down:
“Okay, let's go! We have a pain point, a broken wall. I want Daniel again to put you with your squad to Nik, now not to hammer, but to protect the back gate and a section of the wall near the menagerie.”
“Yes of course!” Said Daniel Crassus cheerfully.
“You performed well last time, let's return to the proven scheme. Consider the fact that the inner wall is almost destroyed in this area.”
“No problem, Atley Alis, it's even better for us,” replied Daniel Crassus.
“Nik, you and your unclean ones are here.”
“Yes.”
“Then you will explain things to Zaf.”
“He has understood everything,” Nikto answered.
“I see.”
Lis began to move his pencil around Fort’s plan, quickly and clearly outlining the situation:
“Here we have a weak point and here. This is where I put you, Peace.”
“Yes, well,” said an officer named Zagpeace Gezaria, whom everyone called Peace, shortening his name, although it was not long. At the same time, for an unknown reason, the black ones always pronounced the name of Salafael in full, and only the unclean abbreviated it, calling him Salaf among themselves.
Listening to Lis, Kors caught himself thinking that now, like the others, he was looking at him with respect and some admiration for his military abilities. Imbued with this universal love. Either Atley Alis really had an undeniable charisma, or it was the enchantment of Nikto who fulfilled his Mission with Lis and supports him with magic in such a way that people are fascinated by what is essentially nothing of a crude half-blood.
Kors remembered, how before, Nikto had argued that Alis was a bad commander, who kept everything on fear. Now he no longer thought so, because both the unclean and his mercenaries really respected Lis as a commander and loved him, especially after the victorious capture of Fort. Kors himself admired him now and how quickly and clearly Lis spoke.
was is his feature and his habit in conversation to very quickly and briefly blurt out a whole sentence at once, as if never wondering which word to choose without any: “uh, mmm, eh”. And always so clear, and often even funny, if not rude. All these curses and sayings of commoners, which he poured, as if without thinking at all. Kors liked all this now. And Lis at the meeting spoke quickly, but without obscene expressions, and his eternal: “fuck, in nature, motherfucker.”
“We don’t have the ability to hold the defense along the entire perimeter of the Fort, here the places are strong – we will leave them, the reds will hammer at weak points.”
“And they won't guess that there are unprotected sections of the wall?” Crassus asked.
“They will. But not at once. Therefore, Nija and his warriors will control the wall. As soon as you see where they are still going to climb, immediately report to me and Nik. Our task is to react quickly to changes in the environment.”
“They go there, and we go there,” nodded Nija.
“And if it’s hot here too,” Varah shook his head, “from what position are we going to shoot people? From the back gate? From the walls?”
“Not much from everywhere, the main thing is that the information arrives quickly and speed is important to us.”
“Who is at the main gate?”
“Maximum five people only on the cannon. The main gate is already strong. Here you are, Marmer. You know about red guns.”
“Yes,” nodded Marmer.
“There are enough cannon balls. Shoot, don’t regret, as soon as they poke their heads. The reds should get the impression that there are many of you there.”
“Clear.”
“Tazh, you and your warriors are here,” Lis indicated a point, which he marked with a pencil on the plan and signed with the name of Tazh.
Tazh leaned forward, examining the spot Lis pointed to:
“The task is clear.”
“Nik with Zaf, Crassus, you are here. I am upstairs with your mercenaries, Kors, we annihilate them from above with Marcus’ lighters. You don’t allow from below to break through as well as today. How many times have you thrown them back against the wall?”
“Ha, we lost count,” smiled Kors, recalling the madness that happened this morning and kiss of Nikto.
“Barla needs to be taken to the basement, it will be a pity if he is wounded,” said Zaf in unclean language.
“Eh, he is already going through the second assault,” Lis answered him in the unclean one too and grinned.
Lis put everyone in points in his plan and explained who would be where and how to act.
“The sewer drain is walled up, but I'm sure they will try to undermine it, you are standing on the wall at the top, Ariel, and your people, don’t allow them to do it.”
“Yes, it is clear.”
“Nik,” Lis turned to Nikto, “what about the Portal?”
“I have blocked it,” Nikto answered. He didn’t take off his mask and was at the meeting in it. He didn’t even pull out the black glass that obscured his eyes, although the room was dim, and only a few candles were burning on the table. But Kors didn't care what his commanders would think, yes, his Nik looked shameful, but now Kors even liked it and it gave him perverse pleasure.
“Does he pose a threat?”
“I put a block long ago and during this time they tried to break through from Horn twice, but could not.”
“And from the Ore town?”
“No. Well… I knocked down all the landmarks, this Port is no longer visible in our World, is not visible from Ore town. For the Upper World I couldn’t do that. I just blocked it.”
“Great!”
“Do you understand the action of the Portal?!” Asked Prince Ariel Riel in surprise, and unlike Prince Arel, he really was the king's nephew.
“Ariel, then read the “Upper Messenger” at your leisure, there everything is written,” the Fox cut him off sharply, – now we are discussing the current situation and the defense of the Fort.
“I've read it,” said Prince Ariel.
“Then all the more, what the questions?”
Ariel said nothing.
And Kors again admired Lis and how impudently he stopped the push on Nikto, despite Ariel’s high position.
“If, nevertheless, they from Upper or from Horn manage to break through, Nik?” Lis didn't care about titles.
“I hope it won’t happen,” Nikto replied, he didn’t react at all to Ariel’s words.
“The door is locked, even if they unlock, they will not leave the basement,” said Nija, “we have closed all the doors and holes in the basements tightly. All the cracks. You cannot leave the Fort and you cannot enter it.”
“Like a rock, exactly,” whispered Shrad quietly, “even if you want, you can’t get out.”
“Who could have tried to reach us from Horn?” Lis said thoughtfully. “Do they care about the frontier Fort?”
“I had an assumption,” said Kors, “that the chief of the garrison had a woman in Upper World. He went there a couple of times a month. Maybe she is worried and looking for him? I assume he has a woman or a family there.”
“I don’t know anything about his family, he never mentioned her,” said Lis. “Marmer, what do you say? Did Digmer have a family?”
“He is from here, from our World,” Marmer shook his head, “No, Digmer was definitely born here. He is from Ore town. I knew people who knew him, I don't know about his family. But I heard about Horn that there is no more beautiful city! It is a rich city and filled with jewels. They drink from golden cups, eat from golden dishes,” as the story progressed, the eyes of the former marauder flared up with an increasingly unhealthy, greedy gleam, and he spread his arms to the sides, as if to show wealth. The noble commanders of Kors listened to him with a haughty, slightly condescending grin.
“And they have many, many beautiful things, and watches and pictures!”
“And there are many of them in our rooms,” said Salafael Myrtle, “and pictures and things. Did they steal jewelry from the Horn? And here they hid it. Who would guess to look here? Everything is packed with this shit in the main tower.”
“Oh!”
“Okay,” said Lis, “then we'll figure it out.”
“If it’s stolen,” Nija said, “they will come for it and try to break through and take their jewelry in any way! Can we enter into negotiations with them?”
“That’s the last thing,” objected Zagpeace Gesaria, “to enter into negotiations with thieves!”
“Let's defend the Fort first,” Lis interrupted them, “and then we'll decide how to sell the stolen goods.”
And the unclean ones, Shrad and Marmer and Lis himself laughed.
3
New life
Value friendships. Try to understand your partner and he will understand you. Understanding will help restore what was destroyed and overcome any obstacles.
Kors returned to his room. He had several hours to clean himself up and sleep, but he could not. He wanted to be with Nikto and listened nonstop to his thoughts. What if suddenly the Demon would call him? But Kors didn’t hear him. Kors wanted Nikto to call him, he wanted to hear his voice in his head and immediately run to him.
But he didn't hear anything. Nikto wasn’t calling him. And Kors couldn’t do anything, not even just fall asleep, although he was very tired. The tension kept him from relaxing. Why wasn’t the Demon calling him?
Jealousy began to gnaw at Kors, he began to imagine that Nikto, instead of calling him, caressed and kissed his prince Arel. Shitty, fucking crazy Arel, whom the Demon not clearly because of what loved so much. All these thoughts drove Kors crazy, it seemed to him that a whole eternity had passed, but looking at his watch, he realized that he was tormented for no more than half an hour. Maybe Nikto would call him a little later?
But Kors couldn't wait any longer. Unable to bear it, he decided to go to them without an invitation.
He knocked on the door.
“Come in, it’s not locked,” Kors heard the voice of Nikto.
He entered.
The room smelled strongly of chemistry and blood from weapons and ammunition. Kors was relieved to see that Nikto was not lying with Arel, but was sitting at the table and giving himself an injection. Prince Arel was sitting on the bed undressed to the waist, and Verniy gave him an injection too. They didn't fuck, but injected themselves, and Kors felt a relief from his heart. In his room, Nikto was finally without a mask, he looked at Kors and raised the syringe:
“Will you?”
“Yes,” Kors replied, not believing what he was saying, “I cannot sleep.”
“Now Ver will stir up something for you, sit down,” Nikto responded, he didn’t react at all to the words of Kors, he was not surprised. Everything was somehow ordinary, as if nothing had happened, as if Kors was not his slave now, and as if Kors had always done this – coming and taking drugs with them.
Kors sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the prince, with a sealed cheek and without a ring in his nose he looked very dignified. Arel didn’t show any aggression towards him, looked indifferently and turned away.
“Did you free his tongue?” Kors asked Nikto. Maybe Arel was silent because he was still limited.
“Yes. It is difficult to fight with this decoration in the mouth. I freed him,” Nikto answered, “I always release Arel so he can fight.”
“So he can talk?”
“Nope,” Nikto shook his head, “He has been wearing the braces for too long.”
“What?! And he will remain dumb now?”
“It takes time for the tongue to recover.”
Kors even felt a little sorry for Arel, this metal instrument of torture, which he had to carry in his mouth, and which Nikto called “jewelry”, was really rigid:
“By the time it recovers, we’ll take the Fort back and you’ll decorate it again,” he said.
“Maybe,” Nikto answered.
Verniy approached Kors and handed him a filled syringe, drops of the “restorative” were dripping from the tip of the needle. Kors looked at the unclean one with some dismay:
“I'm not very good at injecting drugs into a vein,” he said, embarrassed.
“Ah-ah-ah, noble blacks who don’t know how to do anything themselves, I completely forgot,” Nikto said. He got up from the table and, going up to the bed, took the syringe from Verniy, looked at Kors:
“Better take off your jacket.”
Kors began to unfasten the buckles. His fingers didn’t obey him, and he so awkwardly tried to hang the jacket over the back of the chair that his gold cigarette case slipped out of his inner pocket, clinking loudly on the floor, only the blue stones gleamed. The cigarette case opened from the blow, it was still empty. Kors didn’t pick it up, but rolled up the sleeve of his shirt strongly. And Nikto just turned his head to Verniy, looked at him and nodded. Verniy silently wrapped the black cord around Kors’ forearm and tightened it tightly. This action scared Kors more than the syringe in the Demon’s hand. He involuntarily recoiled from the unclean one.
“Don't tremble, give me your hand,” said Nikto.
Kors swallowed hard.