The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19

Hearing his answer, Kors was frightened and delighted at the same time. Yes, he was scared, but still it was better than a meaningless vegetative life alone.

Kors was the last to enter their tent, and without prompting he obediently knelt at the threshold. Andsuddenly, Kors didn’t even have time to understand anything, Arel hit him. He hit him with all his might in the face, just like that, and for nothing, without warning. Kors literally had sparks in his eyes. He fell on his side, curled up on the floor, clutching his eyes with his hands. “Gods, he’ll gouge my eye out, I’ll be blind like Valentine,” flashed through his head. How hard Arel beat! A heavy hand and not a drop of pity. Kors didn’t understand this, because Arel treated him well, recently he caressed and kissed him, why wasthat now? Well, simply because Arel didn’t know how to do it differently. For him there was no difference, and love for him was inextricably linked with violence, and he also didn’t know how to beat at half strength, he didn’t beat, he habitually killed. And Kors was not used to beatings, he had never been beaten before. Nobody dared to raise a hand against him, and in battlehe acted with a sword. Only lately has he been receiving blows from Nik and Arel and getting into ridiculous fights with Lis and Varakh, but this was an exception to the rule. His head was ringing, his eyes were full of multicolored spots.

“Arel, don’t do it,” suddenly, as if in a fog, he heard Nik’s voice, and Kors, to his surprise, clearly caught undisguised worry in his voice.

“No need?” Arel asked with some misunderstanding and challenge.

Kors screwed his courage and sit up straight, removed his hands from his face. The eye he had just been hit in couldn’t see anything. Kors didn’t utter a sound, didn’t ask for mercy, just looked up and looked at them. Two “his dear boys.” And Nik, suddenly turning around, abruptly grabbed his crutch and quickly left the tent.

Kors and Arel were silent for a while.

“I can’t live like this,” Kors said at last, “I’m not like you, and I’m not used to being treated like that. You are killing me, I’m scared.”

“Vitor, I was also afraid at first,” Arel answered, “I have already gone through all this a long time ago. I went crazy with love for him and at the same time I was afraid of him and didn’t understand. I didn’t understand his tattoos and jewelry, suffered from how terrible he looked and from the fact that he was a cripple, and at the same time wanted him every minute. I understood that he was destroying me, and I was afraid for my body. I screamed that he was killing me, I wanted to remain human. I resisted. I was doing all this, maybe even more than you. I just went through all of this before. And all attempts to stop him aremeaningless and useless. Humble yourself. You will never defeat him. Humble yourself, submit, and accept it now as his gift to you.”

“Arel…”

“Yes, the stupid handsome prince tells you this,” Arel grinned, “go to him, bring him back.”

“But what shall I tell him?”

“Think yourself.”

Kors stepped out into the darkness of the night. The storm subsided, but it was drizzling with light rain. Kors knew where he could find Nik, he didn’t know how, but he KNEW. Without hesitation, he headed for the shed where their horses were tied. A lone glass lantern with a candle inside, suspended from one of the poles, dimly illuminated the space.

Nik was sitting next to his horse, and he was lying on a bed of hay, turning his black head towards him, and Nik slowly and affectionately, somehow detached, but at the same time with obvious love, stroked his nose, ran his hand from top to bottom. The horse lay with its muzzle exposed to him, and covered its eyes in pleasure.

“Forgive me for disturbing your idyll…”

Nik raised his head.

“What do you want, tall daddy?”

“Sorry, it’s not my fault that I’m tall. I’m just a true black.”

“Okay, what do you want, true black daddy sir?”

“I don’t understand what is going on…”

“I don’t want to break you, that’s all. Without it, you won’t change.”

“But then you won’t be able to complete your task.”

“Yes, so be it.”

“But you will be punished!”

“I’m used to it.”

“No, no, let’s do it! Throw away all your love for me! Torment me, don’t be sorry, and give your Demons as much energy and suffering from me as they need!”

“You misunderstand…”

“Nik!”

“I don’t want.”

“Should I hurt myself? Ask Arel to beat and torture me? He helps you. Now he has helped you. I want you to complete the task with me! Break me like a hurdy-gurdy so I can play another tune!”

“No, you don’t understand what you’re asking for, and you really don’t want it!”

“I want! Get up! Let’s go!” Kors held out a hand to help him up. Nik accepted the help, and, leaning on his crutch, followed Kors.

They approached the tent, and Kors, seeing a dirty puddle near the entrance, suddenly collapsed on his knees into it.

“Okay!” He shouted. “You see? I myself am kneelingin front of you in the mud! I want this!”

Nik shook his head.

“No,” he answered softly and very calmly.