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The Mist and the Lightning. Part 10
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Karina cried:

“You will never forgive me!”

“Fuck, I have forgiven you long ago! A was a fool myself.” He smiled. “I shouldn't have fallen in love with you so much and then suffered so much.”

“I was not happy even for a minute when I ran away, I realized that I had made a terrible mistake and I couldn’t forget you! I love you!”

“I know. You didn’t love me, you loved the commander of the Reds, Sigmer. And now I'm a slave, a jerk for fun.”

“Are you really a fool?! You are the most beautiful in the world, I love you, I love you and will never stop loving you. You are not nothing! You are the smartest and the best!”

“Of course,” Lis shook his head.

“Do you think I love you because Nik promotes you and promised to make you king?”

“No.”

“I loved you when I knew nothing about it. I loved it anyway! I don't care if you are a commander or a slave.”

She stroked his bright hair, smoothing out unruly wavy strands. He was very handsome, in fact, with beautiful features, and the remnants of the dye hid a thin scar from the shameful strip under the eyes and on the bridge of the nose. He didn’t pull away, and she pressed closer and closer to him, she was seized by such tenderness for him, such love. Karina approached him and gently blew into his ear. He shuddered, closing his ear, and then abruptly grabbed her, knocking her over onto her back, pressing, hanging from above, catching her lips. She hugged him with all her passion. They felt very good together.

Chapter five. The arrival of Verniy

The noise in the street, in the courtyard, was getting stronger. Lis looked up from plans to build barracks.

“What's that there late at night?

“This is my loyal khabir,” Nikto said slowly, as if listening, and his face lit up. “My Ver!” he jumped up, hurrying to the exit, and friends rushed after him.

A truly pompous action appeared to their gaze: an army was crawling up the hill where the mansion stood, like a dense black snake, led by his unclean Verniy, as always completely closed from the eyes of people by leather clothes and a helmet in the form of a dog's head. The peasants, the militias, all the slaves and residents of the Estate also fled. And they looked at this army with indescribable horror and delight.

Nikto roused himself:

“My horse!” He went to meet the army as fast as the limp would allow. And the horse – the Unclean Power – which was being led without a rider, tied, growled, flaring its nostrils, danced, snorting, a large shiver ran through its body. Verniy quickly untied him, allowing him to gallop forward. And the horse rushed to Nikto standing in the middle of the road. At a trot he ran up to the owner, stopping, enduring waves of trembling and excitement, gently touched his black muzzle to the outstretched hand, burying his nose in his palm. Nikto pressed his hand to his face, and then, no longer tormenting, because standing now so calmly for this unclean horse was simply an unbearable ordeal, Nikto jumped on him, and the horse, sensing the rider, his master, danced under him, stunning neighing, from which peasant children and girls screeched in fright. They looked with their eyes from a bowl at how the Son of the Devil pranks on his horse, smiling, and his scar in the gloom was like a black stripe.

Nikto drove up to the porch, looking down happily at the stunned friends.

“Does anyone want?” He stretched out his hand towards them, as if inviting to join, the horse continued to dance under him.

“You are mad!” Lis shouted to him. “Get off already! What a show is it?”

But Nikto just laughed in response, and suddenly, striking the steep black sides with all his might, he reared up and, seeing how the servants rushed to the door, involuntarily closing their heads, and dashed in different directions Lis, Karina and Arel, he shouted on unclean some team, the horse galloped down the hill along the marching soldiers, carts and following the host of curious peasants from other villages. The unclean warriors, seeing Nikto galloping towards them, raised their arms with weapons and began to sharply and abruptly raise and lower their swords, shouting a greeting to their white-haired master, and their cry was like a rockfall, sharp and booming.

“I'm not sure if it was worth placing the Unclean right in the house,” Lis said doubtfully, pouring wine for everyone. “We managed to build enough barracks, and they have tents.”

“This is the command staff,” Nikto objected, “my colonels cannot live in barracks with soldiers, these are noble Unclean. They are very cool commanders, Lis. And they came here for you!”

“All right,” Lis humbly raised the goblet. “For your soldiers, Nik!”

“For our soldiers, Lis!” Nikto corrected him. “For good luck!”

They clinked glasses happily, drinking sweet fresh wine from the Arel vineyards.

From the courtyard, the sounds of musical instruments were heard, there, right under the open sky, tables were laid and the newly arrived soldiers were already feasting with might and main and getting to know the local militias and peasant women.

“Will you go to them?” Arel asked Nikto with a little jealousy in his voice.

“No, I wasn't going to. But if you want, we can go and have some fun.”

“We clearly miss Tol,” Lis laughed, “and Vil, these lovers of folk holidays.”

“Well, yes,” Nikto said. “I actually still need to resolve many issues with Ver.”

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