Ви Корс - The Mist and the Lightning. Part I

"The Unclean in the city understand only it." Nikto mounted his stallion making him rear.

"Let's go," Orel commanded spurring his beautiful horse and led the way along the street. The others followed him.

They had to take a roundabout way to reach the gates of the Upper City that were always opened for Orel. The Upper City was full of lights and people as always, they had to slow down a little but Orel knew how to avoid the most crowded streets and squares.

He directed the horse into narrow, empty streets and soon they were ascending the city tier after tier.

It was quiet around Orel's castle. He looked back, the riders stopped and turned their horses.

A beautiful and sublime view lay in front of them.

Far below, the night city spread in its magnitude, piercing the sky with spears of sharp towers that lined the fortress wall looking like a thin snake. The downtown sparkled with colorful lights, life there didn't stop for a moment, unlike in the Lower City that had only its main streets lit. Torch fires glimmered over the Coliseum but farther the city was drowning in the dark, its contours merging into blackness. One couldn't see where it ended; just separate, distant lights flickering here and there proved that there was a city somewhere in this night, this quietness. The city that was not asleep.

"I hate this city," Orel said. "It's too small for me!"

Everyone laughed because the city in front of them was enormous.

"I see the lights in the quarters of the Unclean. What are they doing now?" he asked Nikto.

"Some dirty things, likely," Nikto said. "Can they even do anything but dirty things?"

The group of friends laughed again.

"No, I mean it. Many times I looked at their neighborhoods from here and they always have lights at night. I thought the Unclean didn't need so much light."

"They don't need light at all. They work," Nikto said, "and they will be working throughout the night, in their workshops and forges. It's the light of their ovens."

"Let's go," Orel said, turning his horse and riding to the castle.

The bridge was down, a servant was hastily opening the gates. The watchman on the tower had given him a signal that the master was coming. The square in front of the main entrance was lit brightly.

"Orel, why do you never raise your bridge?" Enriki asked.

"What for?" Orel said. "Let anyone who cares come, and we'll deal with them."

Tol cackled in approval.

"Wow! What a horse you have!" Orel was looking at Nikto's stallion in the bright light of torches. The stallion stepped from one hoof to another impatiently and snorted: he wanted to continue his gallop. Nikto pushed off the hood of his cloak and took off his mask. He smiled from his horse barely keeping the stallion in place.

Orel dismounted and passed his beautiful horse to the servant, then reached his hand to the muzzle of Nikto's black stallion. The horse raised its lip and bared its teeth, growling and showing sharp fangs.

Orel withdrew his hand quickly.

"Is he Unclean?"

"Yes."

The stallion reared and Nikto shouted at him in the language of the Unclean, striking him with a lash. The stallion danced under him.

"He is wild," Lis said. "He won't tear our horses, will he?"

"And our servants as well," Enriki said.

"Is he eating meat?" Tol asked.

Nikto tossed his head pushing away his hair.

"Yes."

He jumped down quickly, put his palm onto the stallion's muzzle and whispered a few words. The horse calmed down immediately, as if falling asleep. Nikto turned to the group of friends, they took off their masks and watched him with interest.

"Here, he won't harm anyone now."

"He's out of it! Just like that! I can't believe my eyes," Tol said.

"I'll have him kept separately from others and locked up, just in case," Orel said.

The servant was afraid to come up.

"Hey, what are you standing there?" Orel said. "Take the horse, do you have any shame left?"

The servant, paper-white, slowly pulled the Unclean horse who obediently followed him.

"How much does such a beast cost?" Orel asked. "Thirty thousand, I bet."

"Why are you so rich?" Tol got curious.

"I'm fighting for money," Nikto said. "And the stallion is a gift."

"Welcome to the castle of the prince Arel Chig!" Orel made an inviting gesture.

They walked up the stairs and the servants opened massive carved doors for them.

"Not like the first time, is it?" Orel said to Nikto. Nikto glanced at him.

"Yes," he said simply.

"Hey, Nikto, can you make someone else's horse fall asleep?" Lis asked. Nikto stopped at the entrance.

"Lis, what's bugging you?"

"Tell me." Lis met Nikto's grey eyes with his yellow eyes and didn't look away.

"Yes, I can pacify a horse."

"Only your own horse? Or any horse? Or maybe not only a horse?"

"No." Nikto almost hissed it. He was speaking slowly, carefully choosing every word, and because of it his accent and a distorted timbre of his voice were even more pronounced, revealing his alien nature.

"No. It is only my horse I can pacify. I trained him like that. No one else."

Servants were pressing to the walls in terror, and the friends were silent and looked at Nikto.

"What's wrong, Lis?" Now Nikto was talking calmly. "Two hours ago you were sure I could read someone else's thoughts and you were not afraid of it. And now you're implying that I'm going to hypnotize you. Why didn't I hypnotize you when you killed my friend Lamy then? When you were beating and abusing my Unclean? When you nearly killed me!"

"Why indeed," Lis said; he was very pale.

Nikto squeezed his temples with his palms.

"Enough of it, enough," he whispered. "You wanted me to be with you, you voted, you came to an agreement with me. I am what I am, and if you're going to suspect me in every little thing, I'd better leave now."

"No!" Orel exclaimed. "You're not leaving! Lis will leave if he decides to say anything else."

He gave Lis an expressive look.

"I don't like magic tricks,” Lis said. "If he is a warlock, I'd like him to admit it now."

"Lis, he lived among the Unclean, his horse is an Unclean, he hangs around with them, he's used to it. No magic here," Enriki said.

"Do you even care how Nikto talks to his horse," Tol said.

"If you're going to pick on Nikto because of small things, you'd better leave, Lis," Orel said.

"I won't say another word," Lis promised. "What are we standing here for?"

He turned away and started climbing the stairs. Orel touched Nikto's hand.

"Let's go," he smiled. "You've scared my servants shitless."

Nikto didn't answer. He walked up to the wide stairs and followed Orel holding the rails. They entered the central hall of the castle, huge, gloomy and empty. Servants rushed around to aid them.

"Welcome to the table," Orel said, "the dinner will be ready in a moment."

He pointed at the big table in the left, higher part of the hall. A few steep stairs led to the table.

Nikto took out his sword and walked up the stairs leaning onto it. Orel looked at him in surprise.

"Do you always do it like that?"

"Sometimes."

Orel sat at the table and pointed at the chair on the left of him. "You're sitting here." Nikto sat down silently.

"Can't you walk up the stairs without a prop?" Orel asked.

"I can't – now."

"And what if we have to fight on the stairs…" Orel started but kept silent after looking at Nikto's face.

They sat down, everyone taking his place. Enriki and Lis sat on the right from Orel, on the left side, opposite to them, Nikto and Tol were sitting. Behind Orel's back there was a narrow stairs going to the second floor.

Servants were laying the table hastily.

"Enough, enough of it!" Orel snapped at them. "Get out! And don't you hang around here or on the arcade!"