Chapter 7
After a couple of days they returned to Crimson Rock and stopped for a while at the Fort. As before, people settled on the right side of the camp, and the unclean ones near the menagerie, and Zaf was very happy to see that everything was fine with his favorite bear.
Kors, Nik and Arel again occupied their room with the painting on the wall.
The days passed lazily and calmly. Most of the time, the three of them lay on the bed, fucked and slept. Prince Arel drove around the neighborhood on his horse.
Kors watched as his Nik in the arena on the left side of the Fort fought with the unclean ones, participating in their battles. Kors understood that the spirit of the Colosseum warrior was strong in him and didnt disappear anywhere. Nik didnt need to work now, he didnt need to earn money for his living, but he did it anyway: he fought for the amusement of the crowd, just like that, just because he wanted it. And of course, because he did it very well. In minimal ammunition, stripped to the waist, with a shock of white disheveled hair and long bangs falling over his eyes, Nik made precise and powerful blows, defeating rival after rival, some in a matter of minutes, moving closer and closer to the final.
Kors watched his dangerous entertainment anxiously, admiring his son and his skill at the same time. He admired his every movement, tense muscles in his arms, he enjoyed how concentrated his expression was when he fought.
Once and the enemy is already lying overturned on his back, crushed by a heavy boot, two and the next warrior with his face distorted from pain is holding his right hand, and the sword knocked out of his hand is lying far to the side. Three at some point, getting too close, the opponent receives a crushing blow with his fist in the face, falls backwards and hits the back of his head, losing consciousness.
The unclean ones screamed incessantly. When Nik once again forced the enemy to lie at his feet, he, smiling, took off his glove and walked around the circle, raising his hand with an open palm, and his unclean ones with their palms and paws beat on it, shouting words of praise. The fights became more and more difficult, the warriors who had defeated the others fought to knock out each other, and in the end there was only one left. At some point, a very bulk and powerful unclean one hit Nik in the gut so that he literally flew backwards, bent over, and crashed into the surrounding howling crowd of unclean ones. They supported him, preventing him from tipping over on his back, as the enemy expected, and pushed him back into the perimeter of the arena. Kors turned pale. This unclean warrior was very bulk and strong, and Kors had no idea how it would be possible to overwhelm him at all. But damn it, his Nik did it, despite the fact that he missed a few more blows. The spectators rejoiced; they jumped, howled and shouted like animals: White Lord! White Lord! Nik didnt leave the arena, waiting for the next fighter to win him over again. And he won. Again. This time, however, he got such a blow in the teeth that bloody splashes flew out of his mouth. And Kors involuntarily screamed along with everyone. Next, another unclean one was supposed to conduct several fights, with whom Nik was supposedly to meet in the final.
Breathing heavily, Nik approached Kors, whose face was literally twisted:
Is that all?! Have you lost your expensive teeth?
No, Nik shook his head and bared his teeth and showed Kors that his teeth were intact. Kors saw that his mouth was full of blood, and his teeth were also covered with it.
Get some water, he handed Nik a flask.
Is there something stronger?
I wont give it to you!
Nik took a flask of water, took a sip, and rinsed out his mouth and spat the blood onto the ground.
Its enough for today, lets go, said Kors.
What? The final is ahead!
You have been fighting for several hours, you started to miss strikes, you will miss your final now! Kors started to wind up. Dont you understand?! Thats all! You need to be able to stop in time!
No!
Yes! You dont need this final, it doesn't make any sense!
I need it!
Thats it, I said! Youre done! Kors shouted it so loudly that the unclean ones standing nearby heart him. They turned their heads to look at them, and Kors froze. He shouted now at their commander, their White Lord. Nik lowered his head and wiped his mouth, which was still oozing blood. He didnt look at Kors. And Kors started to shake, but he saw that the unclean ones didnt interfere, and Nik was silent.
Come on, said Kors a little calmer and quieter.
No.
Come on! Kors shouted again. He began to get really angry, and the stubbornness of his stupid son pissed him off. Kors felt that he simply couldnt stand it if Nik was hit again, and he was hurt, this is understandable to anyone who knew at least a little about battles Nik was tired. And Kors could no longer bear this sight, his heart would simply break.
Kors grabbed Nik by the forearm and pulled:
You have finished, I have told you! Stop fooling! He raised his eyes to the unclean:
Thats all! Your White Lord has finished for today! Hes not involved anymore! I am his father and I am taking him away! He pulled Nik behind him, and the unclean ones parted, not holding them back and seeing them off. Nik silently followed Kors and didnt even try to remove his hand, and Kors firmly squeezed his forearm, painted with naked whores and monsters, with an iron grip, as if he was afraid that Nik would break free. In this manner, without letting him go for a second, Kors dragged him into the room, and, unable to resist, hit him several times: in the head, in the face and in the ribs. Nik made a dull sound like a soft, short growl. Kors threw him away from him. Nik fell only the steel shields clinked, which were protecting his legs below the knees. Kors turned away, and, going up to the table, began to violently stir the medicine in a cup of water. He handed it to him son:
Get up, take the medicine. Rinse your mouth thoroughly. Hold it in your mouth for a while before spitting. And wash yourself; youre dirty, covered in dust.
Nik stood up silently, took the mug, and without looking at Kors, went into the bathroom. Kors exhaled heavily. He continued to shake from the fact that Nik had been beaten and what Kors had done in front of everyone. But he was sure he was right.
Kors entered the bathroom and saw that Nik had removed his protection and was standing slightly bent over the bathtub, holding the medicine in his mouth. Kors approached Nik from behind and roughly undid the buckle on his belt, pulling his pants down, and bent him over the bathroom, jerking him sharply. From a strong jolt, Nik only bent more, resting his hands on the opposite edge of the tub, and healing water poured out of his mouth, mixed with blood. Kors wheezed, panting with orgasm, and fell off:
Clean up and go back to the room, he ordered.
When Nik returned to their room, Kors was sitting at the table and smoking. He looked at Nik, so sad and silent now:
Was I wrong now? Asked Kors and put out his cigarette. Have I done the wrong thing to take you away?
Nik was silent.
Answer me!
I dont know.
No, you know. You know perfectly well that I was right! And thats why you obeyed me!
In frustration, Nik reached for the bottle on the table.
Eh, no! Give it back! Kors jerked the bottle out of his hands.
Vitor, give me a drink! Im tired!
Of course youre tired! Who made you fight?! You dont need this final and prize money, you dont need it all! I will give you as much money as you want! Thats it, Nik! Relax, you dont need money anymore, you have a rich father who will give you everything! And when we return to the Black City, I will buy you many of the best clothes and cure you with the best doctors. You will no longer fight in the Colosseum and risk your life for the amusement of the crowd. Forget it!
No, you know. You know perfectly well that I was right! And thats why you obeyed me!
In frustration, Nik reached for the bottle on the table.
Eh, no! Give it back! Kors jerked the bottle out of his hands.
Vitor, give me a drink! Im tired!
Of course youre tired! Who made you fight?! You dont need this final and prize money, you dont need it all! I will give you as much money as you want! Thats it, Nik! Relax, you dont need money anymore, you have a rich father who will give you everything! And when we return to the Black City, I will buy you many of the best clothes and cure you with the best doctors. You will no longer fight in the Colosseum and risk your life for the amusement of the crowd. Forget it!
Im not poor myself! Nik shouted. I have enough money! I just had fun!
I understand, and I didnt interfere until I saw that it would end badly for you now!
Nik sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and looked at Kors:
Please give me a drink.
Kors stood up abruptly and poured him a full glass.
Here it is!
Nik immediately drained it in two gulps, and Kors involuntarily winced and lit a cigarette:
Take this as well!
Nik took it.
So, was I wrong now? Kors asked again.
Nik smoked in silence.
How tired I am! Kors tugged at his hair with all his might, forcing him to close his eyes in pain and almost drop his cigarette. Whats in your head? And on the head?! I explained to you how to comb your hair! When are you going to behave well, Nik?
Never, Nik muttered.
What?! And Kors hit him again, so that Nik dropped his almost smoked cigarette, and Kors rudely extinguished it, pressing his boot into the expensive carpet:
No, you will! He grabbed his bangs, strongly throwing his head up so that Nik would look at him.
You will obey me, because it is right, and you need to learn to behave normally in order to advance further in your Mission, therefore you obey me! You understand that I am right and that you need it!
I dont need anything! I obey you because I love you! And I dont want to upset you!
I love you too, Kors slowed down and let him go, so I do all this and take care of you.
I understand, Nik said.
Show me your lip. Oh fuck! You ruined your beautiful face again! Kors clasped his head in his hands in absolutely genuine despair. What is it! He grabbed a small round mirror from the table and handed it to Nik:
Look! Look whats wrong with your lips! My beautiful, lovely lips, what have you done to them damn
Nik completely indifferently looked in the mirror at his now crooked and swollen lip, which slightly turned upward from the incipient edema.
Kors tossed the mirror aside and thrust the opener into his hand.
Take out the rings!
Why? It hurts, Nik disagreed.
You have edema, they interfere, dont you see?!
It happened a hundred times, it will subside and everything will be fine a bit later.
Get it out, fuck! Kors growled with such anger that Nik immediately grabbed the unclamping instrument, hastily removing the jewelry from the purple lip.
You ruined your tender lips, you dont take care of your beauty at all!
Whats the difference? Im not a piece of cake for everyone to lick at me.
What does this have to do with it? How stupid you are! You dont know how to use your advantage. Good looks, correct posture, unaccented speech and noble manners thats it! You are sitting pretty!
Nik shook his disheveled head a little.
Im not a girl! I fought and they broke my lip a little, whats wrong with that?!
Kors looked at his beautiful face, like a girls, and involuntarily smiled, realizing that Nik had completely misinterpreted his phrase you are sitting pretty, and seeing also Kors condescending smile, he literally burst inside with indignation, but endured and kept silent.
You misunderstood me a little, nevertheless tried to explain Kors, rather not because he felt that Nik was unpleasant, but simply because he loved to teach:
To be sitting pretty this is a phrase from a game on a chess board, you can still play a simpler game of checkers, and if a checker crosses the entire field and has not been eaten
Nik looked up at him.
Maybe its enough? Please
Nik, you dont understand your advantages and dont use them. You have not only a beautiful appearance, but also a good voice, I am not kidding. In fact, you have a beautiful voice.
Nik looked at Kors dubiously.
I speak seriously. Yes, your voice is low and hoarse, but there is something exciting about it. If you remove gross mistakes in words, it will be very good.
Kors calmed down a bit:
What will your unclean ones think now? I yelled at you in front of them, wont that hurt your reputation as a commander?
They wont think anything, everything is fine
Zaf came to them, he grinned like a satisfied cat:
What, my Lord, are you getting away with your greyhound daddy? Zaf, unable to resist, laughed. Kors froze.
No, Nik said.
I left to feed Barla, Zaf continued, and when I returned, I saw that you were not there, and they told me how dad yelled at you and took you away.
Zaf turned to Kors:
You did everything right. I never fight for fun, combat is not a game! And you?
Never! And I wont let him anymore! Kors replied sharply.
If only he still listened to you, Zaf smiled again, he doesnt listen to anyone.
And Nik, as if confirming Zafs words, showed Kors a tattooed finger with the image of an inverted ace of spades on the ring.
And what does it mean? Kors asked with a grin. That you didnt have enough money for real jewelry, and thats why you drew them for yourself? He looked at Zaf. Nik is just not used to obeying. I was not with him, and no one raised him. But Ill catch up. He will stop behaving like a thoughtless boy and become a worthy warrior, become a truly great, powerful Demon, the way he really is! I will grind this rough diamond into brilliant! I will put the best in him!
Zaf shook his head, and Nik sat down and was sad and silent.
Vi-i-tor, Zaf suddenly said tenderly, as he did in the Limit and in the Ore Town, slightly stretching the vowel, and after v he did not insert this rough sound kh into his name, as did Nik. Zafa managed to pronounce the name of Kors softer, almost correctly. And Kors froze.
You are beautiful, said Zaf, and he didnt need to say that already. Kors understood everything perfectly, he was shaking, unconsciously and even in some kind of panic. Kors mentally darted to Nik: What should I do?
Whatever you want, Nik responded immediately, you are free in your manifestations.
And Zaf was already unbuttoning his fly. Well, what else had Kors hoped for and counted on, if he himself allowed him in the Limit to do with him everything that Zaf wanted? And now it was not surprising that Zaf continued to consider him his. Kors wanted to refuse him, but how? After Kors crawled at his feet like an obedient slave, and after everything that took place in between? Of course, Zaf considered Kors his own, he was sure that Kors liked him, and there was mutual sympathy between them. Now he could take the refusal as an insult. And Kors didnt want to aggravate relations with Zaf at all, so he went up to the unclean one and knelt in front of him, trying not to think about anything.