Ви Корс
The Mist and the Lightning. Part I
They are not offspring of Hell; they just lived nearby…
Arel Chig is a fallen prince, the only one who dares to break the rules in a society separated by race, language and origin. When he meets Nikto, a strange man of many secrets, Arel's life is going to change.
Part 1
Тhis story actually happened in a different reality (a different dimension, a parallel world); you can call it whatever you like, whatever you used to, whatever is convenient for you. Its essence will not change with that. All characters in the story exist and interact just like we exist and interact in our world. Only their names, the names of the gods, peoples and territories are not authentic; they just express the basic meaning the characters put into them.
1 Nikto is translated as ‘Nobody’
2 Orel is translated as ‘Eagle’
3 Lis is translated as ‘Fox’
4 Tolsty is translated as ‘Fat’
Chapter 1
The Encounter
"So, are you going to start talking at last?" Orel asked.
"Give me my dr… 'restorer', and I'll tell you everything!"
"Too many conditions, don't you think?"
"Really, it's the first time I see something like that." Tol shook his head. "He must be bonkers."
"I shit care if he's bonkers or not," Orel yelled, "he has to answer. Because we need it. And he will talk. What's your name, again?"
"Nikto."
"Right. We know it. Your real name?"
"I don't know! It is real!"
Orel, Lis, Enriki and Tol exchanged glances.
"Waste of time," Tol said. "We'll kill him but he won't talk."
"Shut up, you idiot," Orel growled.
"I think it is not our business at all…" Lis started cautiously.
"It is our business, Lis. Listen to me and don't interrupt," Orel made a pause. "Please."
"I need a restorer or I'll die," Nikto said.
"Yeah? Or maybe you'll finally go over the edge with the drug."
"No, I won't. I used 'black water' for two years, now I need just the plain one… but often. In my bag…"
"Huh? Two years of 'black water'? You're dead, man! Nobody quits 'black water', you're crazy!"
"That's why he hangs around with the Unclean," Enriki intervened. "That bitch, your girlfriend, she gives you this shit, right? You're a disgrace for humans!"
"I need a shot." Nikto's voice was barely audible.
"Fuck you. Die," Tol said. Orel glared at him. "Sorry, Arel," he hastened. "I just can't stand this piece of dirt."
Nikto awkwardly shook his shaggy head, trying to toss disobedient strands of hair away from his face and look at the people standing over him but it didn't work. In the beginning they had made him kneel at the wooden post, and now he was sitting on his heels in front of them, leaning against the post somewhat lopsidedly. His arms were twisted behind his back, wrists locked in steel cuffs around the post and raised up. The chain of the cuffs was fixed on the hook too high, almost disjointing his arms, not letting him straighten his back.
"Hey, Nikto." Orel sighed. "Let's make a deal. You answer our questions honestly, and we give you a shot."
Nikto finally managed to turn his head and look up at Orel.
"Why are you breaking me? Aren't you a prince, a free lord from the Upper City? We are from different worlds. Our ways never cross. You have no personal interest in me. Whose order do you follow when you interrogate me? I didn't know a prince could serve someone. Who orders you? The king's secret police?"
Orel's face twitched.
"It doesn't concern you." He raised Nikto's chin higher with the tip on his boot making him screw his eyes shut with pain in his twisted arms. "I'm asking questions here, not you."
"Make him kiss your boot, Arel! Show this dirty half-blood who he's talking to!" Tol shouted clasping Nikto's head in his huge palms. "Here, Arel, kick his mug!"
"Tol, enough," Lis said.
"Just look at it, Arel!" Tol's hand in a leather glove made Nikto open his mouth showing his long, inhuman fangs. "And claws! On his fingers! He's a shitty, dirty half-blood! And the tattoos on his cheeks!" Tol squeezed Nikto's face. "Just look at it! The letters of the Unclean. Like something's written on his face!"
Orel met Nikto's gaze. Nikto's face was nothing like crude, irregular faces of the Unclean. The man also didn't look like a commoner; he could easily be called handsome if not for a scar that crossed his forehead and the whole right side of his face, tearing his cheek so deep that it seemed a little more and one could see his molars.
"Leave him be," Orel ordered. "Nikto, if you don't want any more problems, answer my questions, okay?"
"Okay, okay! Ask your questions! I didn't quit 'water' to die like that, in front of a bunch of idiots who don't even know what they want!"
"Easy, man!"
"I was set up!"
"I've never heard anyone speak Black like that," Enriki shook his head. "I barely can figure out what he says."
"He uses correct words," Lis said, "but what a nasty voice he has."
"What's your name?"
"Again? Fuck! All right, all right! It's Nik. Nik."
"How can you prove it?"
"People who know me can say."
"Where are you from?"
"I came to the city from the west."
"Did you live in the local outpost in the west, on the border with the lands of the Unclean?"
"Yes."
"Did you fight them?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"They captured me. They addicted me to black water. Since then I depend on them."
"Do you follow their orders?"
"Yes."
"What orders?"
"Orders? Ah… well… kill people. Eliminate. Rob."
"Bastard! I'll kill him!" Tol bellowed. Orel stopped him not letting him hit Nikto.
"Calm down, Tol. Calm down."
"What do you think of our king, Nik?" Enriki asked.
"He's a shit!"
Lis laughed.
"I've had enough of it. That's utter bullshit."
"Did you conspire with the Unclean against the king?" Orel continued.
"No. They don't trust me enough for that. Too bad."
"Orel," Lis said. "He lies. He says what we want to hear."
"I'm not sure I want to hear exactly that, Lis."
"I need my drug."
"Don't give him any, Arel, let this disgrace for humans die!"
"Give him his drug he calls a restorer," Lis said.
Nikto's eyes closed.
"Hey…" Orel shook him worriedly. "Don't you dare, I haven't finished with you!"
"He's losing it, Orel, I told you so!" Lis shouted. "If he dies now, your stupidity will be to blame! What shall we do then?"
"My stupidity? Don't you dare talk to me like that! I'm a prince, I'm your lord!"
"Orel, Lis, please, not now," Enriki begged. "The client won't forgive us if he dies. We need him alive. Lis, give him a shot, you know how. Where is his bag?"
"Enriki, take off his bracelets! Hurry!" Lis got a flat box made of black wood from Nikto's bag. "Move faster, you! Unchain him!"
Enriki unlocked the cuffs and pulled on Nikto's arm trying to take off the bracelets. Nikto followed the pull and fell onto his side.
"Oooh, idiot! Stop pulling! Open them! They must be locked!" Lis rushed to Nikto lying on the floor, unclasped several silver bracelets that covered Nikto's arm from wrist to elbow. His arm under the bracelets was wrapped in the strips of black cloth.
"Fuck! Cut the cloth!"
Enriki followed the order as soon as he could – and froze looking down. Lis also halted.
"Where do I have to stick the needle? The other arm, quickly!"
"I don't feel his pulse," Enriki said quietly. Tol came up to them and snorted.
"Yeah, he wasn't lying about 'black water', it's the only thing that corrodes veins like that."
"The other arm is just the same," Lis said.
"He gets what he deserves," Tol summarized.
"No, stick it somewhere else," Orel begged nervously. "His neck…"
"His collar is too wide, Arel, and I can't take it off."
"His leg. Lis, do it for me!"
"For us," Enriki corrected Orel.
"I'll stick it into his groin," Lis said. "Strip him."
"A nice tattoo," Tol smirked looking at Nikto's tattooed thigh.
"He really seems to be from the west," Orel said thoughtfully.
"Okay, he should revive now." Lis took Nikto's wrist to check the pulse. "This tattoo on his arm, the brand of the Unclean – it is the emblem of the western community. If I'm not mistaken."
"Yeah, he has too many tattoos for a plainsman. He's from the west," Orel confirmed.
"Then he was captured, as he said?" Enriki asked. "They disfigured him and addicted him to black water, just as he said?"
"I still don't trust him," Lis said. "He looks more like a mercenary than a slave."
"Maybe they made him join them," Enriki suggested.
"I see only one thing," Tol interfered. "He's into the Unclean up to his ears."
"And what the fuck is that…" Suddenly Lis rushed to the chimney, heated the blade of his knife in the fire and quickly pressed it to the inner side of Nikto's wrist.
The heat revealed a hidden sign, as if a crimson flame ran over a twisted monogram.
"Wow! Nice!" Tol admired the view. "What is it?"
"It's a hidden brand of the Red, idiot," Orel explained. "Lis, how did you notice it?"
"Maybe it's because I also have one," Lis smiled. "He could've been their captive, or he could've worked for them."
"The last thing we need," Enriki exhaled.
"I knew he wasn't telling the truth," Lis said.
"What truth?" Enriki asked. "So far everything we see confirms his tale. He said he needed the drug because he used 'water' for two years, and I bet it's true. I've seen arms like that, only of dead men, though."
"Yeah, me too," Orel nodded.
"He has a brand of the Unclean slave; they addicted him to 'water' and mutilated his face," Tol summarized.
"Yes, it fits," Orel said thoughtfully.
"The Unclean know that a man with such a face won't ever be a full-righted member of our society," Enriki said.
"I think he's quite handsome," Lis said.
"Oh, why don't you get yourself decorations like that then?" Tol laughed.
Lis glared at him. "Shut up, Tol!"
"If someone gets such a wound in a battle," Orel continued musing, "no matter how heavy it is, he can use a medicine, 'sama', for example. It heals without a trace then. And if he didn't do it, it means they didn't let him. I think so."
He bent over Nikto, examining him.
"And there are many small tiny cuts, as if he were slashed. But they are all healed."
Lis squatted near to him.
"Orel, look at those scars at his ear. It looks like his ear was cut off. And then a new one adhered."
"He's been through a lot," Enriki said.
"Well, the Red also cut off ears," Lis said. "Ears and fingers."
They looked at Nikto's hand that missed its ring finger.
"Bad luck for him," Tol said. "It seems we'll find out more about him from his body than he would've told us. Let's strip him! While he's out of it."
"So, both the Unclean and the Red were breaking him" Orel mused aloud.
"And so were we," Lis added.
"And why would everyone need him, this nobody from the west," Tol muttered stripping Nikto.
"That's the thing. It's not so simple." Lis lit a cigarette and took a nervous drag. "I wouldn't mess into it, I told you from the beginning! Orel, do you hear me?"
"I hear you."
"Oh, I'm happy."
"Nah," Tol said, "if they maim you, addict to black water, and the rest of it, you won't care about nothing, you'll just want to stay alive!"
"Look, he's trying to restore," Enriki noticed.
"Yes, this guy claws for his life," Lis agreed looking at Nikto's strong muscular body.
"But he doesn't look like a terribly lucky warrior to me," Enriki shook his head.
"No. Too lucky, to my mind," Orel said. "That arrow hit his heart, didn't it?" He pointed at the oval scar on Nikto's chest.
"A lethal wound," Lis said.
"And this one, on his side. The scar is quite recent."
"He has nine lives," Tol snorted.
"And a bunch of problems as well," Orel added. "I'm quitting."
"Are you crazy?" Enriki stared at him. "What are you thinking of?"
"I'm not breaking him any more," Orel said firmly. "I've had enough."
"Do you know what it means for us? What if he really is a conspirator?"
Nikto shifted, rising somewhat, tossed his hair away from his face and looked over himself: waist-naked, his pants pulled down.
"Did you want to fuck me?" he asked in surprise.
It was like a signal for everyone. Tol bent over cackling, and all the others looked at Nikto and laughed.
"Come here, have a drink," Tol said to Nikto quite friendly.
"Yes, Nik or whatever, really, have a drink with us," Orel agreed.
Nikto got up, clasped his heavy belt, walked up to the table and made a few gulps from a glass.
"May I dress?" he asked.
"Yes, we let you go," Orel said.
Walking back to the pole, Nikto started gathering his scattered possessions.
"Fuck, why did you cut the bandages?"
"Wanted to give you a shot quicker," Orel explained. "Should've told us your veins are shit dead."
He called for a servant and told him to bring new bandages.
"You are skillful," Enriki said watching Nikto wrap his arms in a few seconds.
"Who stuck the needle?" Nikto asked gloomily.
"I did," Lis smiled.
"Thanks," Nikto thought for a moment, "Lis."
Lis laughed. "Aren't you happy? I did my best."
"Oh yes. There was no other place, was there?"
"Well, you'll just have to stay away from your Unclean bitch for a couple weeks," Lis shrugged, "big deal."
Nikto gave him a glance but kept quiet. He was picking up his bracelets from the floor and habitually locking them on his arms with a soft click. When he reached for one of the bracelets behind the post, his long blonde hair fell on the side, baring his back that was completely covered in lash scars.
Friends looked at each other.
"One cool back you have," Lis said.
"Ah, so that's what you wanted to see," Nikto said. "Stripped me, looked at my scars? And now do you let me go because you see I'm a warrior like you?"
"Sit down," Orel said.
Nikto sat down at the table and finished his wine. Tol gave him a cigarette. Nikto glanced at him.
"Thank you." He smoked, leaning against the tall back of the chair. His hand with a missing finger pushed away his hair, revealing the scar crossing his forehead. He examined Tol, Lis, Orel and Enriki with sharp eyes.
"It is not long till the morning," Orel said. "The gates will be open soon, and you will be able to leave the Upper City."
"And what about your job?" Nikto smiled wryly. The disfigured side of his face didn't move.
"Not the first problem of ours. And not the last one," Orel answered. "Not your concern, too."
"You're not so stupid as you seemed at first," Nikto said.
"All right, don't try to play smart," Lis interfered. "We're letting you go – be happy."
Nikto shook his head.
"I am." He walked up to his bag on the floor, picked up his cloak.
"You've ruined my cloak." He looked around. "And what about my mask?"
"Mask?"
"Yes, mask. Black, made of that hard… mm…" he stumbled trying to find the right word, "stuff. I don't know how it's called in your language."
"Who took off his mask? Tol, you did! Where is it?"
"Arel, I… I tossed it to the chimney," Tol said somewhat guiltily. "I was so pissed off!"
"Shi-i-it!" Nikto squeezed his temples with his palms. "Cloak is torn. Mask is burnt! Any patrol will stop me when I look like that!"
"All right, I'll give you my cloak and my mask," Orel tried to settle it. "And you'll walk out of the Upper City without a problem."
"Without a problem! I don't have the right to be in the Upper City at all!"
"I know," Orel smiled.
"See ya," Nikto walked to the door.
"Wait," Orel reached for him. "I'll see you off to the door and give you your weapon. It's upstairs."
His friends exchanged glances but didn't say anything.
"As you wish," Nikto muttered.
In the dim light of the dungeon his face crossed with a scar looked frightening. Half-paralyzed, it seemed lifeless, more fitting for a dead man than a living being able to bitch about ruined things.
They walked up from the dungeon to the ground floor.
"Here is your sword," Orel lowered his eyes avoiding Nikto's gaze. The servant brought a cloak and a mask.
"My slave will bring them back," Nikto said.
"Never mind, they are yours."
"Fine," Nikto wrapped the cloak around himself. A moment before pulling up the hood he stopped and looked at Orel. Nikto's eyes were grey and cold. "Something else?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"Nik was never your name, was it?"
Nikto's lips curved in a resemblance of smile.
"Never before."
"And you've never lived in the local outpost."
"Just for a short while."
"And you're not the slave of the Unclean and you don't follow their orders."
Nikto was smiling. "You're very persistent, prince Arel. Farewell."
He pulled up the hood and walked out of the castle. Orel followed him with his eyes.
"No," he said quietly. "Not farewell."
Chapter 2
Conversation with Mark
"So, Lis was right," Orel said. "You also know Nikto."
"Yes, I do." Mark met Orel's gaze. "If you see him once, you won't forget, right?"
Orel looked away, got up and walked to the window. He looked through it not saying anything, with his arms crossed on his chest. Mark also kept silent, watching Orel as if calculating something in his mind. Then he said:
"I think it'll work for you!"
Orel looked back.
"I nearly killed him!"
Mark shrugged. "So what? Me too."
"Yes? And what?"
"Nothing. We're friends now."
Orel walked back to the table.
"A strange friendship – between a friend of the Unclean and someone who fights them," he said.
"He helped me like no one else," Mark's eyes flashed with an unhealthy sparkle, his fingers twitched nervously. "Thanks to him I created a real hell for the Unclean in the west! How we killed them! How we killed them, Orel, if only you could see it. If only any of those fat townsmen could see it! We slashed them! Hanged them! Burned them! Tore them apart. We razed their houses to the ground. We chased them to the very mountains, freed the outpost and many people…" Mark stopped suddenly.
"I see you are a real warrior. A rare thing in our times," Orel said.
"Nikto is a warrior, too."
"I know, figured that out. But he's a warrior of the Unclean."
"You can stop worrying about it. Yes, he is a warrior of the Unclean but he isn't their ally. More than that, I think he hates them."
"Why is he with them then?"
"The cities of the Unclean accept him as a warrior, hold him as an equal and even higher than many of them. And humans don't accept him."
"But you? Haven't you accepted him?"
"I have but he can't team up with me, the Unclean will kill him for that."
"And can he team up with me?"
"Yes, he can. You don't interfere in the business of the Unclean. If you make Nikto your friend, the Unclean will be your friends, too. Your power will multiply, and I heard, prince Arel, your state of affairs is horrible now."
"Perhaps it is, but I don't want to become a toy of the Unclean for the sake of that power! My independence is my strength."
"Not a toy. But having an ally won't hurt you."
"Do I hear it from you? You who fight them to death? I can't believe my ears."
Mark shrugged. "To each their own."
"And that girlfriend of his. That perfect sample of a non-human! She'll cut the throat of anyone who dares harm her precious. I hope you haven't seen that monster."
"I brought her to him from the west."
"What?"
Mark laughed.
"Her name is Amba. I brought her from the west."
"Why?"
"It just happened."
"Can you tell me?"
"Why not? I see he's got to your heart, I know you too well. You'll be a nice pair. New times are coming to the City, together you'll be formidable."
"I haven't decided anything yet."
"Oh, you have."
"Well, it doesn't mean he'll agree."
"He will. Nikto is attracted to humans. And you are from 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 grabbed his head in horror. "To-o-ol!"
"Well said," Lis added.
"Read your thoughts?" Nikto sat down again suddenly laughing. Orel raised his head. "Did Mark tell you that?"
"Yes."
"I can't read thoughts."
"You can't?" Tol muttered in disappointment.
"Did you want me to help you trick rich guys? Too bad, it won't work out, you're mistaken." Nikto finished his wine. "Well, it was nice to see you."
"Nikto, wait, you have to understand…" Orel started. It seemed his resolution returned to him.
"I understand, no problem."
"But it doesn't mean our offer is cancelled."
"Really? Why would you need a man who cannot read thoughts?"
"Nikto, stop teasing us. We need you as a warrior, not as a warlock."
"Both would be better," Tol muttered under his breath.
"You can just stay with us for a while," Orel said. "If our cooperation doesn't work, you'll leave."
Nikto looked at Orel and his eyes didn't sparkle mischievously any more.
"I'm not such a good warrior as you think," he said. "Otherwise I wouldn't have so many scars."
"Let us judge that," Orel said. He took another glass from the tray left by the servant and put it in front of Nikto.
Nikto was silent.
"We own several streets of the Upper and the Lower city. We also take some orders from clients, sometimes think of something ourselves."
"If you join us, you won't have to do dirty jobs for the Unclean," Tol said with enthusiasm.
"To-o-ol, shut up," Orel hissed.
"Let's imagine I didn't hear that," Nikto said.
"No one thinks your job is dirty," Orel said.
"I'd rather not prove anything here and now," Nikto said. "I'm in a good mood today."
"Shit, do I have to apologize again?" Tol mumbled in resentment. "Okay, okay, my fault," he sighed. He clearly was afraid of angering Nikto but Nikto seemed not to care about his apologies.
"I think four of you are enough," Nikto said. "You found each other a long time ago and I will be excessive."
"No, you're wrong," Orel smiled. "There are not just four of us, that is, now we are four. It is all that is left from my team that used to be big… a while ago."
"So, you're recruiting new people. And what happened to the old ones, if you don't mind telling?"
"I don't mind," Orel smiled. "They were killed. I don't think it'd scare you away. Two of them were ambushed half a year ago, two died of wounds. We had two girls, too, I regret losing them the most. And there are some who are not dead but are not with us now. Toby is a captive with our rivals. Squint-Eye is in prison."
"I've never heard a more sorrowful story," Nikto said, and everyone laughed. "Fine, but what do you think of my connection with the Unclean?"
"You have to choose: either you stay with us and dedicate your life to our problems, or return to them and forget us."
There was silence; everyone waited for Nikto's reply.
"I need a probation period," he said at last. "I'm not sure I can live among humans but I don't mind the idea."
"Will two months be enough for you to figure it out?"
"Yes."
"But no Unclean during this time, not even one! If you manage, it means it’ll work for us."
"And what is my role in your game?"
"Just like ours. I'm the boss but we decide everything together, you will have the vote like the others, and the right to your share of profit. You'll get rich soon, will be able to buy lands and slaves."
