The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19

The Demon came close to him. Kors didn’t look up, he saw only the black hem of his cloak, sweeping the floor, strewn with dirty sawdust, and the iron tip of the crutch. The demon stood motionless, as if thinking, and then Kors heard the command clearly given in his head: “Get up and follow me!” Without fastening Kors with a chain, Nikto turned around, heading for the exit. Kors hastily stood up, dusting his knees, trying not to meet anyone's eyes, and slowly followed the Boss. After walking a few steps, Nikto apparently noticed a dressed-up slave huddled on the floor, and stopped, as if looking at him. With the tip of the crutch, he lifted his chin up so that he could see his face better. The blinded slave threw back his head, not moving and waiting for the master to order. But Nikto lowered the crutch, again leaning on it, and, without stopping again, left the tent. Kors obediently followed him. This hesitation of the Demon, and the way he seemed to be carefully and thoughtfully examining the mutilated slave, frightened him. “If the Demon wants to do something like this to me, I will find a way to end my life,” he thought, “and this slave — he is punished for certain offenses. Doing this to me is against the rules. Although, does Nik follow the rules?” Kors smiled bitterly. His Demon doesn’t follow the rules, and Zaf said: “I have known the White Lord for a very long time, but I know one thing about him for sure — you can expect anything from him.”

Well, in this case Kors would prefer death.

“Calm down, don’t shout like that,” said Nikto.

They walked slowly through the night camp to Nik and Arel’s tent.

“I’m not shouting.” Kors tried to keep his composure. “Why did you come after me alone and didn’t send someone? Arel, Verniy? Or simply didn’t call mental order? Why did you come? It’s hard for you to walk!”

“Well, yeah,” Nik drawled, “but I need to try to walk, otherwise I won’t get up at all.”

But Kors was flattered that the Demon came for him himself.

Chapter 9

They returned to Nik and Arel’s tent.

“You have walked enough?” Prince Arel asked when he saw Kors and smiled at him, while continuing to hold a smoking cigarette with his lips.

“Walked?! I’ve been kicked out!” Kors replied indignantly, Arela’s condescending smile pissed him off, “Did you miss me, prince?”

“Yes,” Arel answered laconicly, as usual, and a sly smile continued to snake on his black lips.

“Our Vitor, as always, was jerking off to me in his head all day, and then went to have fun with Zaf,” Nik explained. He put aside his crutch, threw back his hood, dropped his cloak from his shoulders, and, seeing his native blond hair, Kors calmed down a little. The demon became the same, became the human Nik.

“I was not…” Kors even stuttered indignantly. “And you’re jealous, right? Are you jealous of Zaf?”

“Pfft,” Nik chuckled without answering. He took off his mask, and Kors saw that under it his face was still wrapped in wide black strips of bandages. But Nik was obviously changing bandages, he was bandaged differently, not as tightly as before. The strip covered the head and forehead under the now regrown bangs, but the eyes were not as much obscured as before. Kors saw that Nik had made them up again, thickly stroked with black both above and below. A couple of strips of fabric under the eyes left his nose covered, but a ring stuck out from under the bandages. The lower part of the face, under the nose, the mouth, and the lower jaw were bandaged more tightly, and a gap was cut in the bandages for the mouth.

Nik removed his gloves, casually tossing them on his bed of skins. At the same time, he first took off the ring, carefully laid it on the table, then took off his gloves, and then put the ring back on his finger. Kors was flattered that Nik liked his gift, he treated it carefully and wore it with obvious pleasure. But Kors also involuntarily noted with bitterness that his son’s hands were trembling, and his fingers were slightly twisted. He wanted so much to grab his black hand and try to rub it, relieve muscle tension, so that his son would relax. Arel handed Nik a half-smoked cigarette. Nik inserted it into the gap cut in the bandages and blew out the smoke.

“I went to Zafu, and you immediately came for me!” couldn’t resist and continued Kors. He stood at the door in some confusion, not understanding where to go next.

“Vitor, shut up, I came for you because you are mine,” Nik replied, continuing to smoke.

“And what should I do now?”

“You know what to do.”

“What?”

“You know.”

Kors understood. He slowly knelt at the entrance.

“Now, will you cover my eyes?”

“No, what’s the point? I still can’t take off the bandages yet, you’re lucky,” Nik replied calmly.

“What’s up with your scar?!”

“You are talking about it again?! If you even say a word to me about my scar, I’ll fucking… I’ll hit you!” Nik quickly put out his cigarette in the ashtray. Kors quickly and cautiously looked up at him with his expressive dark brown eyes: