The Mist and the Lightning. Part 12. Ви Корс
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!”
“Thank you, master, forgive me if I asked too much.”
“Fuck, damn it, Ver, you know how I feel about you and how I love you!” Nikto came close to them, Ver took off his knees almost asleep, warm like a puppy Valentine, quickly knelt down in front of Nikto, bowing his head low and kissing his boots. Valentine, waking up and seeing this, immediately fell to his knees too. Nikto smiled contentedly, bending over and embracing Verniy, lifting him from his knees, seating him back on the sofa, pressing him to himself, stroking his head, so that the ears of the unclean sticking up upwards spread.
“Reds have a lot of slaves, well, choose whoever you want, a girl.”
“I don’t want. I love Claire!”
“But what to do with you ?! We’ll go to the Limit soon.”
“Can I take Valentine with me?”
“You can! Just don't spoil him too much!”
“Can I remove the muzzle from him in the Limit? It is difficult for him to eat because of it. He suffers in this iron.”
“Aren't you suffering in a helmet? Your head is completely closed, and he has only part of his face closed.”
“But you let me take it off from time to time, when I'm in your room, and he should never take it off! I will return everything back later, they will chain everything as it was, Arel will not notice.”
“No! He will notice. And Valene will only feel worse. Anything that Arel put on him can’t be removed! Valene belongs to the prince, he is his thing! His! Would you be pleased if something was done with your thing, changed without your knowledge? Don't set your rules here!”
And seeing how sad the face of his unclean dog became, Nikto hugged him, hugged him and, probably, if Arel saw them now, sitting like this, squeezing each other in arms, he would be jealous, and very much. Because something in this was not just kind, friendly, and not just a good attitude of the master to the slave. There was something else here, something that Arel would prefer not to think about.
Nikto pulled away from Verniy a little:
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