The Mist and the Lightning. Part I

Lis looked at him in surprise.

"Don't you believe me?" Orel said. "Then go and look by yourself, she is still there. I was sitting there and looking at her for the whole night and thinking how he could have killed her. Gods know I haven't understood that. But I understood something else. If he killed her, easily like that, without any effort… if he really killed her, Lis, then I don't know why you're still alive."

"No," Lis said, "I don't want to believe that. If I believe that, I'll lose my mind: to live and know that he can take your life any moment! No-o, I won't believe that. And you shouldn't. The girl died by herself, had a heart attack or something, whatever."

"It's easier for you," Orel said, "because you were not there."

"Arel, I beg you, forget that night! Nothing happened, he didn't even hear you, he doesn't know she's dead. He left and something burst inside her with overexcitation, that's all. It happens. And Nikto has nothing to do with it. Let's not become hostages of our fear, we should treat him as before."

"He is a warlock, I'm sure now – you don't need to tell me any more that I got fucked up, now I know that!"

"No, no, forget what I said!" Lis hastened.

"Well, I cannot understand you at all. At first you say one thing, now just the opposite. There was no reason to doubt him before but you were going to blame him for any small thing. Now when we have the reason, you say 'Forget everything I told you'. Lis, don't you think it's too much?"

"I understood that we shouldn't be afraid of him," Lis said. "Even if he is as powerful as you think – and I doubt that – but even then… If he is so strong, he could've killed us a thousand times. But he hasn't done that – so, he has something in store for us, we're his friends. Mark said Nikto needed friends among humans. We need him and he needs us, nothing else."

"I'm not sure," Orel said.

"Tol turned out to be the smartest one of us: he was never afraid of Nikto, never treated him with suspicion. And Nikto pays him in kind. He took him along to the Lower City and Tol was happy about that trip, he'll tell you about it. Mark was right saying that Nikto treats people the way they treat him. It depends on us whether he'll be our friend or foe."

"Do you mean everything you said before is nonsense?"

"I don't renounce my previous words. But I looked at it from a wrong point of view."

"But he killed your Shella," Orel said slyly. "He didn't touch my Mina but he chose your girl."

"Don't provoke me, Arel, I got it, it won't happen again. Her death opened my eyes."

"Ooh, you surprise me! I bet he'll do something else and you'll change your mind again."

"I don't swear it won't happen but I'm not going to pick on him again. He is a part of us, it's stupid to fight – we should cooperate."

"I want that," Orel said, "but you don't."

"I'll try hard to want, and I'll be watching him."

"Wow, I like that!"

"Yes, that's it."

"They gave you your name for a reason: it fits you, you always manage to slip out. You change like a wind, blow this way or that, one can't catch you."

"I don't think it's humiliating to amend according to the situation. What else can I do? If I couldn't do that, I'd be long hanged by the Red by now. I should've listened better what you told me of Mark and Nikto's relations from the very beginning. And the Unclean, too – they don't fight him, even though he brought a lot of evil to them."

"They hurt him too," Orel said.

"Yes, but you see, he doesn't fight them any more."

"He doesn't touch those who doesn't touch him, right?"

"I think so."

"I wonder why."

"I don't know, I've figured out just that."

"Fine, I got that, even though I don't care much. I love Nikto and cannot become his enemy, no matter how I'd try."

"So, you have nothing to fear. As long as you love him, you're safe. Relatively safe, at least – you can never be completely sure. But it is not so dangerous as it seemed to us at first."

"Do you think I can sleep with him?"

"No, Orel, don't start again! I won't discuss this topic."

"I don't want to humiliate him, he just excites me madly."

"I won't talk about it."

"I'm afraid of ruining everything."

"There is nothing to ruin, everything's already a disaster."

"What if he guesses what I think, what if he really reads my thoughts?"

"Enough. Even if it is so, it doesn't matter to you. Think what you want and let him guess and decipher. Just imagine what is running through our minds – one can feel sorry for him if he has to read all that."

Orel laughed.

"Fine, Arel, I'm going to my room, I need to change, it's too warm in the street. And then we'll go see the others, okay?"

"Sure."

Lis left.

"My head is spinning because of talking to Lis," Orel said to himself and turned to the side stairs hearing approaching steps.

"Hello," Nikto said; he was walking down holding the rails. He was fully prepared: dark sunglasses protected his eyes, his mask hung on his chest, ready.

Orel smiled to him.

"Good morning. I was just going to wake you up."

"Thank you. As you see, I was able to wake up myself today. I heard Lis's voice, is he here?"

"Yes, he's coming in a moment. He said it's warm in the street."

"Doesn't matter. Sun is bad for me."

Nikto sat down in Enriki's place.

"Drink some coffee," Orel offered, "you'll feel more cheerful."

"No, I've had enough of stuff to cheer me up in my room."

Orel lit a cigarette.

"Take a cig. Did you try any like that?"

"No, but I cannot smoke a whole one now."

"Here, take a drag, you'll like it," Orel gave his cigarette to Nikto. Nikto took it, inhaled the smoke.

Orel closed his eyes:

"Oh, I'm so sleepy."

He flinched suddenly in surprise – Nikto touched his hand softly. He placed the cigarette between Orel's fingers carefully, returning it, and didn't take his hand away immediately, passed his fingers over Orel's hand slightly. Orel felt it at once, blood rushed to his cheeks; he looked at Nikto. Nikto glanced back at him, his face looked shy, maybe, a little guilty. He tried to smile a little with his crooked smile and even though his eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses, it was clear he was looking at Orel and waiting for his reaction. But Orel couldn't say a word, he could just smile back, overfilled with feelings.

If you can really read my thoughts, read now what I feel about you, he thought, because I cannot put it into words.

"Good morning, Nikto," Lis said coming in, interrupting their silent dialogue.

"Good morning," Nikto said taking his mask.

Lis noticed this gesture.

"Forgive me, I was wrong laughing about your face," he said.

"Are you serious?"

"I saw the soldiers you gathered in the Lower City yesterday. Almost every one of them has tattoos and rings like you. And Tol said he didn't meet a single man with an untouched face on the borders with the Unclean District."

Nikto laughed.

"Oh yes, he particularly liked Borgan, my friend from the Lower City who helped me with mercenaries."

"You simply belong to a different world," Lis said.

"No, I don't want that."

"Do you want to be with us?" Orel asked.

"Yes."

"Then prepare yourself, it'll be difficult," Lis said. "People from the Upper City won't accept you as one of their own."

"I know that."

"It'll be easier for you if you erase some tattoos, at least on your face," Orel said. "I mean these strange letters on your cheeks, they are not so big. Your face would be clean."

Nikto touched his face.

"I cannot do that. If I do that, it'll be my death sentence. The Unclean made them on my face for a reason."

"The Unclean made them?"

"Yes."

"Do they mean something?" Lis asked.

"Yes," Nikto leaned against the back of the chair.

"Can you say what, at least approximately?" Orel asked.

"That I'm a traitor, a corrupt thing," Nikto said very quietly.

"So, they punished you for cooperating with Mark! He told me they did nothing to you!"

"I tried their patience for too long. It is a usual thing to write on your face what you are. A warning for those who would like to deal with me. If I erase these letters on my own accord, it will mean to defy the Unclean. I'm not ready to do that yet."

"So, you can't get rid of them," Orel said sadly.

"I said I'm not ready yet but it can change with time. I don't care about their fucking brands. No matter what they did, I've never regretted my friendship with Mark, not for a moment!"

"Do you know what I want?" Orel said. "I want you to never regret becoming one of us. I want to throw a party in your honor – do you like this idea?"

"How do you imagine that?"

"I'll invite my trusty people from the Upper and the Lower Cities, Enriki's sister – she is such a doll, she rejects no one," Orel and Lis laughed, "and some important people. Everyone will drink and have fun. And we can celebrate our success at recruiting soldiers."

"What should I do?"

"You'll give yourself into the hands of my slaves. They'll bathe you and comb your hair. You'll paint your face grey, the tattoos won't be visible."

"And what about the scar, I can't paint it over."

"I've thought about it. You'll cut a part of your mask that will cover only your forehead and the scarred cheek, the rest of your face will be open."

"And how is it going to stick to my face?"

"You can glue it to your skin, isn't it easy? Do you agree?"

"Oooh," Nikto barely could moan.

Orel gives orders about the forthcoming party.

Three of them return to the Lower City where Tol and Enriki are waiting for them.

Orel inspects the mercenaries, discusses working aspects with commanders. He gives a stirring speech to his warriors urging them to be fearless and merciless in the battle.

They have dinner at 'Backara' before going back to the castle.

Chapter 12

Vil Luven

They sat in the main room of 'Backara' that was not crowded by day. Relaxing after a luxurious dinner, they sipped their wine.

"Hey," Lis raised his hand calling for a servant. "Oh shit. Vil is coming straight here," he hissed through the clenched teeth.

"Hello, I see you're having fun!" a young man said coming up to their table.

"Actually, Vil, I was calling for a servant, not for you," Lis said.

"How are you, Orel?" Vil asked ignoring Lis's remark.

"Fine."

"I'm glad for you! So, have you thought about me?"

"Vil," Orel said in a tired voice, "I told you a thousand times: you don't suit us. You d-o-n-t."

"Aah, I get it," Vil didn't lose his composure at all. "You just don't want to say that because of your new friend," he pointed at Nikto.

"By the way," Orel said, "let me introduce you. It's our new teammate, his name is Nik."

"Oh?" Vil's head jerked, his face paled with sudden distress. "Wait, I know you!" he said to Nikto.

He looked at Vil, his face impassive.

"It was you whose ribs Morel Nevis re-counted at 'Coliseum' last season. They started calling him Morel the Butcher after that."

"Yes, it was me," Nikto said calmly.

"Ha ha," Vil chuckled nervously. "You've made a perfect choice, Orel."

"Get out, Vil," Orel said. "If I need you, I'll let you know."

"Don't hold your breath, though," Tol said.

"All right," Vil bravely tried to hide his resentment. "But you know," he pointed at Nikto, "you should've stayed in the Lower City and kept your mask on."

Nikto silently watched Vil. Vil turned sharply to leave and bumped into a servant who approached the table with a tray full of wine glasses. Glasses fell on the floor with a deafening noise, shattering. Vil and the servant fell, too.

"Shit!" Vil yelled. "Where are you going? Are you blind or what, didn't you see I was coming?!"

"But you were standing, sir," the servant tried to explain.

"I've cut my hand, gods," Vil wailed.

He got up, all soaked in wine, and left the restaurant under bursts of laughter. Tol was laughing louder than anyone. Lis looked at Nikto piercingly but when Nikto raised his head and met his gaze, Lis turned away.

"Vil is a good warrior," Enriki said at last.

"I won't take him in," Orel snapped, "he is a fool."

"A revengeful fool is dangerous," Lis said.

"Yes, I hurt his feelings badly today," Orel said.

"You'll have to either take Vil on the team or kill him" Lis summarized.

"You're right!" Tol exclaimed. "I'm dying to kill that asshole."

"No," Orel said, "I cannot order to kill him: his family served mine for many years. I know Vil since we were children, we grew up together, I'm somewhat attached to him. Maybe he is my half-brother."

"Half-brother? Does it mean your father fucked his mother, your servant?" Tol asked.

"Yes."

"Ooh."

"Then you have to let him join before he joins our enemies," Lis said.

"You can give him some minor position," Enriki said, "For example, he can control one of our streets in the Upper City. He can collect money, rule out small conflicts, something like that."

"But nothing more," Orel said. "I won't trust him anything else."

"It'd be better to kill him," Tol drawled.

"No," Orel said. "I'm going to send a servant to his place and invite him to our party. Enriki, I entrust him to you. Choose a street for him in the Upper City, explain everything, okay?"

"Fine, Arel, gladly."

"Bury him with book-keeping," Lis said. "Our business in the warehouses and markets got out of hand. While Arel fights Bey in the Lower City, we are getting robbed in the Upper."

"I can't control everything at once," Orel flushed. "Who has to take care of it? Huh, Lis?"

Lis lowered his gaze.

"Fine, Arel, I'll take care of it, don't freak out!"

Chapter 13

Before the Party

Orel knocked on Nikto's door.

"Nik, it's me, Arel, can I come in?"

"Yes."

This voice couldn't be mistaken for anyone else's. Orel came in.

"Wow!" Nikto said admiringly when seeing him.

Orel smiled shyly.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes. A lot," Nikto said. He was sitting on his bed and looking at Orel.

Orel was dressed like a king; his handsome aristocratic face was covered with a fresh layer of grey paint that gave him an unhealthy look. His dark hair only intensified the effect. A thin silver hoop like a crown decorated his head.

Orel came up to Nikto's bed.

"May I sit down?"

"Yes, my ghost-king. Do you mind me looking like that in your presence?"

Orel smiled. "I don't."

He looked at Nikto who sat with his legs crossed, clad only in his pants. The bed was littered with his bracelets.

"Did you enjoy bathing?" Orel asked.

"Yes. But your servants cut off my claws," Nikto showed Orel his hand. He looked upset.

"Ooh, Nik," Orel laughed.

"You find it funny," Nikto said angrily. "Maybe next time you'll have my teeth pulled out?"

"Do you mean your fangs? Yes, I wouldn't mind having them filed…"

"Enough, Arel!"

"Okay, okay," Orel smiled.

Nikto reached to the table, scooped some transparent ointment from a small jar, then in one sharp motion, upwards, covered the damaged veins on his left arm with it. His face twisted in pain, he pressed to the back of the bed, screwing his eyes shut.

"Oh, that's something," Orel said in surprise. "You even flushed. For the first time I see your cheeks red."

Nikto, still groggy, opened his eyes and lulled his arm pressing it to his chest.

"Yes, it's really silly," he said. "I look stupid."

He tossed his head back waiting for the pain to abate.

"Why are you here?"

"To hurry you up."

"Don't worry, I'm getting ready." Nikto started wrapping black cloth around his arm. Orel took one of the bracelets from the bed absent-mindedly, played with it, not knowing how to start.

"Nikto, are you really glad I decided to throw a party in your honor?"

Nikto finished wrapping his arm.

"Why not?"

Orel laughed.

"What's wrong now?" Nikto shook his head, he was taking his bracelets and locking them with a sharp click, covering his arm from wrist to elbow.

"Everything's all right."

"No, you tell me."

"Why not?" Orel tried to copy Nikto's voice and his accent, he managed it quite well. "The Black don't speak like that: 'why not?' – it sounds somehow awkward."

"Maybe you're right but I didn't speak Black for a long time. Sometimes when you, Lis, Tol and Enriki start arguing, or talking all at once, or very quickly, I don't understand you. You don't notice it because you think the whole world should understand you but it is not so."

Orel looked at Nikto timidly.

"I didn't even think it was so hard on you!"

Nikto carefully pulled his bracelet from Orel's hands.

"Not so hard. You're talking a lot to me and it gets easier with time."

"I got it! You're even copying my intonation," Orel exclaimed. "I always stretch Tol's name, and you too! I couldn't get it at first but now I see. You're repeating after me, even the things you shouldn't!"

Nikto shrugged.

"Sorry if it offends you."

"No, it doesn't offend me, on the contrary, I'm flattered that you chose me as a model," Orel said.

"It's just because you spend more time with me that the others."

"And I'm very happy I do!"

"Why?"

"Because I like you a lot." Orel blushed but grey paint helped to hide it. "Don't you see it?"

"I see," Nikto said. "You're playing with me like a child plays with a new toy that didn't bore him yet."

Orel went pale but the paint saved him again.

"No!"

"And you believe those tales about me."

"No!"

"Yes! You don't believe me but you believe them."

"I try to believe you! But you're lying. Maybe I don't believe you're a son of the devil literally, it would be too much, but you're a warlock, that's for sure."

"A warlock?"

"I didn't want to talk about it, Nik, but you make me. What happened to the slave last night?"

"She died."

"Ooh, what a lie!" Orel got up.

"What do you want to hear from me?"

"You killed her!"

"Shut up!"

"What? You're telling me to shut up? You don't dare! I'm a prince! Yes, you think you're cool but I don't care!"

Nikto laughed.

"Don't you dare laugh at me!" Orel lifted his arm against him but Nikto immediately grabbed his wrist and twisted it hard making Orel lie down on the bed again. Tears burst from Orel's eyes with pain but he didn't make a sound. Nikto loosened his grip a little, leaned over him.

Their eyes met.

Orel looked at Nikto as if he was seeing him for the last time in his life, couldn't have enough of seeing him. Nikto let his arm go but Orel didn't move, didn't attack him again. Nikto looked at him somewhat strangely and suddenly put his hand between Orel's legs, right onto the conspicuously hard cock.

Orel flinched and looked at Nikto in terror.

"Nik, it is not what you think," he babbled, his cheeks burning with shame.

"You…" Nikto didn't continue.

Orel closed his eyes.

"I didn't want to," he was beyond himself. "You're not leaving, are you?" his voice trembled.

"No."

Orel's face brightened slightly, he got up leaning against the bed rail and walked to the door on unbending legs.

Chapter 14

Tol's Tale

Tol, Lis and Enriki entered Orel's room.

"Just look at him!" Enriki exclaimed in exasperation. "Arel, are you mad? Tonight is an important event, you'll have to introduce Nikto and…"

"I know, I know," Orel interrupted him angrily. He put a half-empty bottle down on the floor and flopped back to the pillows.

Lis shook his head and sat down in the armchair.

"Orel, please understand, you won't drown your fear in wine, you'll just make it worse."

"Fear?!" Orel sat up staring at Lis. His painted face framed with dark disheveled hair looked ghastly. For a while he glared at Lis, then fell back without saying a word.

"He's drunk," Tol said.

"He's drunk when the guests are coming," Enriki huffed.

"Vil's already here," Lis said.

Tol came up to Orel and raised him forcefully making him sit in the bed. He hugged Orel like a child, patted his hair tenderly.

"Arel, Arel, come round."

Orel tried to push him away.

"Fuck off, Tol, let me rest a little."

"No-o." Tol stopped hugging him and sat behind his back quickly, supporting him and not letting him lean back against the pillows.

Orel looked back, saw he didn't have place to lie down and tried to lean against Tol who hugged him again. He locked his big arms over Orel's chest supporting him seated. Since Tol was taller and bigger, Orel couldn't do anything but give up and stay seated.

Tol blew onto the top of his head, rubbed his cheek against Orel's thick hair.

"Orel, you're so beautiful today. You're the most beautiful of us."

Lis laughed.

"Where did you lose your crown, Arel?"

Orel raised his arms and embraced Tol's neck.

"My Tol, I love you!"

"I love you, too," Tol said, "we all do, and that's why you shouldn't drink any more, pull yourself together, we need to show them we're the best!"

Orel let Tol's neck go, rubbed his face, coming round.

"Yes, Tol, you're right, it is not like me to become sloppy before an important meeting."

Lis laughed again. He sprawled in the chair with his legs crossed, watching Orel with interest. Tol tossed a pillow at him in annoyance.

"Shut up, you red-head."

Orel glanced at Lis resentfully. Lis pushed the pillow away; he wasn't smiling any more.

"Sorry, Arel."

"Aaah," Tol said with content, "you don't like it when I call you red-head. Red half-bloods are known for their rotten guts, everyone knows that!"

Lis hissed. Orel got up.

"Shut up, both of you. Why are you always quarrelling?"

"Because Lis thinks he's the smartest," Tol muttered. "And I don't like his hair and those little stains from the sun on his face."

"I shit care what you like!" Lis yelled.

"If you ever call Lis red half-blood again, I'll put you into the dungeon for a month," Orel said to Tol strictly. "For a month! Not for a week like before but for a month, and I swear I won't let you out a day earlier."

"You will," Tol muttered lowering his eyes.

"No, I won't. Do you want to make sure?"

"Orel, enough," Tol said very quietly, "I won't do it again."

"Keep yourself in check, Tol," Orel asked. "I know it's difficult for you but please try."

Tol was silent.

"Orel, I'd like to ask you…" he started at last without raising his gaze.

"What else? Say it!"

"I want to have another tattoo." Tol looked at Orel timidly.

"Gods! One more!" Enriki exclaimed. "Tol, you're a nobleman!"

Lis rolled his eyes up at Enriki's words and shook his head.

"Do it!" Orel said. "I don't care! Tattoo yourself from head to toes, like Nikto! Keep him a company, Tol, he shouldn't be the only one among us who walks in his mask and gloves for his whole life!"

Tol looked at Orel fearfully.

"But I didn't want to have a tattoo on my face or fingers, like he has."

"Why?" Orel asked. "If you're going to do it, do it in full!"

"Actually," Tol stammered now knowing how to say that, "I wanted to make two small, very-very little tattoos, on my gums."

"Where?!"

"On my gums," Tol repeated quietly.

Orel looked at him tenderly.

"Yes," he said softly. "It's a great idea. I never doubted you."

He embraced Tol.

"Tol, Tol, I love you so much, if only you knew that! You can be uncontrollable, evil, harsh – but without you my life would be boring."

Tol smiled happily, his confusion and indecisiveness left without a trace.

"Frankly speaking, it wasn't my idea," he said lightly. "I saw tattoos like that in the Lower City; Borgan had them. The guy Nikto and I went to visit about mercenaries. I liked it very much and he noticed it and explained me that these tattoos were very important and special protective signs, only a very respectable Unclean could have them, not just anyone. And if a simple Unclean gets such a tattoo, he'll have his teeth knocked out in a moment. It is a sign of being special, chosen – cool! He explained it very clearly, that Borgan. And Nikto said that it was true. So, I want such protective signs, too, over my upper canine teeth."