Ви Корс - The Mist and the Lightning. Part 13

“Have you called me?” He asked, and Kors nodded.

“Yes. In half an hour, everyone will come. Emil Gabriel died on the defensive.”

“Brother of your former lackey?”

“Hmm… Yes.”

“That’s already your second officer, Kors.”

“Menerhis was subordinate to Prince Ariel Riel.”

“They came with you.”

“They came for the wealth of the reds, there is nothing to be done, this is a war. And I heard rumors that Emil was leaking information about our actions to the Black City to his brother, and Clive Gabriel was reporting everything to Leonardo.”

Lis shook his head, he looked upset and gloomy, lit a cigarette as usual. Kors noticed that Lis’ face was still dirty, streaks of soot smeared across his cheeks. He didn’t wash or clean himself up after the fight. Before the meeting, he laid out Fort’s plan on the table and made notes in pencil, but didn’t take a minute to simply wipe the dirt off his face with just a wet towel. Lis was so preoccupied with his war that apparently he didn’t even think about it, it seemed he didn’t think about anything at all except the war. And Kors bitterly concluded that this attitude towards himself and seemingly trifles gave up Lis as a commoner, a poor man, accustomed to do without water and walk dirty, without discomfort. Kors moistened a napkin on the table with water from a jug and handed it to Lis:

“Alis, wipe your face, please.”

“What?” Lis looked up from the Fort’s plan. He looked at Kors a little questioningly, as if trying to understand what he wanted from him.

“Wipe your face, please, you're black with soot.”

“Kors, don't bother me with any bullshit now, okay?” But Lis took the napkin and wiped his face. Kors felt relieved from his heart, now his noble friends would not think anything bad about his son-in-law. Lis lit a new cigarette, his pensive glance back at the plan. Nikto and Arel entered the room.

“Nik, have you called your commanders?” Lis asked quickly.

“Yes. Zaf, Nija and Tazh will come now.”

“Whose commander is Nija?” Kors remarked skeptically. “Of five unclean ones?”

“Kors, I need him,” said Lis, “I also can't stand him, believe me, but now I need him,” he glanced at Karina. She averted her eyes. She didn’t open her face, because her lips had not yet fully healed and Karina didn’t want her father to see that Lis was beating her. Moreover, Lis told her that she could only be with an open face in their rooms. And he forbade her taking off the scarf. Therefore, Karina, obeying his orders, remained with a black silk scarf on her face.

“Send Karina away,” said Kors, “she has nothing to do at the meeting. Let her rest in the room.”

“She fought on a par with everyone else,” Lis objected. He turned to Karina:

“If you want to rest, you can go to the room. If you want to stay by my side, you can stay.”

“Can I stay with you?” Asked Karina, pleadingly looking at Lis with her expressive eyes.

“Yes, you can.”

And Karina, right in front of her father, fell on her knees before Lis, bending over to his boots:

“Thank you…”

And Nikto, smiling under his mask, made Kors feel what Lis felt now, when such a beauty as Karina, with her noble black father, humiliating herself, crawled at his feet. And Kors went up inside with indignation. Lis lifted Karina, again placing him on the chair next to him.

“You yourself, Alis, run into trouble, at first you drag her everywhere you go, where some men are, and then she kisses others,” said Kors.

“She will not do it anymore,” Lis smiled.

“Maybe you will also wrap my daughter in a cape?!”

“If I want, I will close her completely with a cape.”

“She is not a slave, but a noble lady!”

“She is my wife, and if I so want, she will wear what I command,” Lis seemed to enjoy teasing Kors.

“My wiff,” whispered Kors, he, like many black ones, was infuriated by the red accent of Lis, “put a bag on her head!” With annoyance, he reached for his gold cigarette case, decorated along the edge with blue stones.

Lis just grinned, flashing in a half-smile that looked more like a grin, the edges of his even white teeth, and again bent over the drawings.

Karina didn’t look at her father, she silently adjusted the scarf on her face so that it reached her eyes and put a hood on her head, covering her hair tied in a ponytail.

Kors mentally addressed Nikto: “What is he doing?! He plays with her as with a living doll, covers her face and still flaunts her!”

“Lis likes it when she sits next to him, admires and admires him, looks with loving eyes,” Nikto also mentally answered him.

Kors just shook his head, opened his cigarette case in frustration and saw that, on top of that, his favorite cigarettes had run out, and he hadn't even noticed it. Kors feared smoking cigarettes of Nikto, expecting to find there something else besides tobacco.

“Alis, give me a cigarette.”

Without looking, Lis handed him his pack.

Kors inhaled nervously.

“How strong, you motherfucker! Alis, what strong cigarettes you smoke, one after another! Are you crazy?!”

“What I need, I smoke,” answered Lis, not taking his eyes off the plan. “I’ll have to shit, I will shit. You are not a decree to me.”

“Alis!”

The noble blacks of Kors entered the living room.

All the remaining mercenary commanders came. Initially, there were eight of them, including Vitor Kors himself. There were now six left.

Daniel Crassus, despite his advanced age, looked cheerful, fought well and established himself as an experienced and dangerous warrior. And also, he was a great mentor for his young soldiers, whom he brought with him from training. Kamiel Varah, despite all his pretentiousness and arrogance, also showed himself from the best side. Salafael Mirt arrived, and two more remaining commanders: Zagpeace Gezaria and Ariel Riel. The unclean ones came: Zaf, Nija and Tazh, as well as Shrad, the head of Price’s militia, and the red warrior Marmer. When everyone was seated at the table, Lis began:

“First of all, I want to thank you all. You are excellent warriors and commanders. The reds got a kick out of it today if they thought to crush us in a couple of hours! But let's get back to business now, because the situation is critical and we don't have much time to discuss a plan to defend the Fort. They will probably start the assault again at dawn. Does everyone already understand black? Zaf, Tazh, Marmer, do you understand black more or less? I don't have time to repeat the same thing a hundred times.”

“I understand,” Marmer said.

“Well, you understand, you communicate a lot with Shrad and other militias,” said Lis, “Zaf? Tazh?”

“I understand,” Tazh said with such a terrifying accent that at that moment it was necessary to see the faces of the noble blacks of Kors. And Zaf was silent and he looked at Nikto, who at the last meeting translated the words of Lis for them. Lis noticed this:

“Zaf, you know black!”

But Zaf didn’t answer, the flame of the candles was reflected in his precious plugs, and the stones in the deformed nostrils shone brightly, iridescent. Lis took a breath and let it out with a noise, slightly protruding his lower lip, as if barely holding himself back, and thus trying to calm down:

“Okay, let's go! We have a pain point, a broken wall. I want Daniel again to put you with your squad to Nik, now not to hammer, but to protect the back gate and a section of the wall near the menagerie.”

“Yes of course!” Said Daniel Crassus cheerfully.

“You performed well last time, let's return to the proven scheme. Consider the fact that the inner wall is almost destroyed in this area.”

“No problem, Atley Alis, it's even better for us,” replied Daniel Crassus.

“Nik, you and your unclean ones are here.”

“Yes.”

“Then you will explain things to Zaf.”

“He has understood everything,” Nikto answered.

“I see.”

Lis began to move his pencil around Fort’s plan, quickly and clearly outlining the situation:

“Here we have a weak point and here. This is where I put you, Peace.”

“Yes, well,” said an officer named Zagpeace Gezaria, whom everyone called Peace, shortening his name, although it was not long. At the same time, for an unknown reason, the black ones always pronounced the name of Salafael in full, and only the unclean abbreviated it, calling him Salaf among themselves.

Listening to Lis, Kors caught himself thinking that now, like the others, he was looking at him with respect and some admiration for his military abilities. Imbued with this universal love. Either Atley Alis really had an undeniable charisma, or it was the enchantment of Nikto who fulfilled his Mission with Lis and supports him with magic in such a way that people are fascinated by what is essentially nothing of a crude half-blood.

Kors remembered, how before, Nikto had argued that Alis was a bad commander, who kept everything on fear. Now he no longer thought so, because both the unclean and his mercenaries really respected Lis as a commander and loved him, especially after the victorious capture of Fort. Kors himself admired him now and how quickly and clearly Lis spoke.

was is his feature and his habit in conversation to very quickly and briefly blurt out a whole sentence at once, as if never wondering which word to choose without any: “uh, mmm, eh”. And always so clear, and often even funny, if not rude. All these curses and sayings of commoners, which he poured, as if without thinking at all. Kors liked all this now. And Lis at the meeting spoke quickly, but without obscene expressions, and his eternal: “fuck, in nature, motherfucker.”

“We don’t have the ability to hold the defense along the entire perimeter of the Fort, here the places are strong – we will leave them, the reds will hammer at weak points.”

“And they won't guess that there are unprotected sections of the wall?” Crassus asked.

“They will. But not at once. Therefore, Nija and his warriors will control the wall. As soon as you see where they are still going to climb, immediately report to me and Nik. Our task is to react quickly to changes in the environment.”

“They go there, and we go there,” nodded Nija.

“And if it’s hot here too,” Varah shook his head, “from what position are we going to shoot people? From the back gate? From the walls?”

“Not much from everywhere, the main thing is that the information arrives quickly and speed is important to us.”

“Who is at the main gate?”

“Maximum five people only on the cannon. The main gate is already strong. Here you are, Marmer. You know about red guns.”

“Yes,” nodded Marmer.

“There are enough cannon balls. Shoot, don’t regret, as soon as they poke their heads. The reds should get the impression that there are many of you there.”

“Clear.”

“Tazh, you and your warriors are here,” Lis indicated a point, which he marked with a pencil on the plan and signed with the name of Tazh.

Tazh leaned forward, examining the spot Lis pointed to:

“The task is clear.”

“Nik with Zaf, Crassus, you are here. I am upstairs with your mercenaries, Kors, we annihilate them from above with Marcus’ lighters. You don’t allow from below to break through as well as today. How many times have you thrown them back against the wall?”

“Ha, we lost count,” smiled Kors, recalling the madness that happened this morning and kiss of Nikto.

“Barla needs to be taken to the basement, it will be a pity if he is wounded,” said Zaf in unclean language.