his palm on the wooden flooring under his feet, pushed off with force, rising. He walked over to his Unclean Power, inserting his foot into the stirrup, jumped into the saddle. The horse danced under him, and the raft under his hooves too.
“Hey!” Kors shouted, grabbing the railing to stay on his feet.
Unclean Power, having made an incredible jump, almost without a running start, jumped the distance to the coast in one fell swoop, shaking the ferry even more.
“You motherfucker! You will knock us over! Insane!”
Turning to the hail, Nikto, for a moment, turned Power around, putting it on the hind legs, and then, without answering, hitting his steep sides with his feet, he directed the horse at a gallop along the hillside up to the abandoned village. After him, Arel also immediately jumped into the saddle, and, without waiting for the ferry to finally land on the shore, he forced the horse to jump, whipping up his lash and loudly shouting a command. And only Kors, swearing and wiping the drops of spray from his clothes, waited until the raft moored to a small pier, and neatly brought his horse back, holding onto the reins. He secured the ferry, tied it up, and, getting into the saddle, headed for Riverside, having long lost sight of both Nikto and Arel.
4
The house
Kors drove slowly along the main street of an abandoned, dead village. There was deathly silence here and there was not a single living soul. Tol’s soldiers transported people to Crimson Rock. Some peasants of Prince Arel, who had recovered from typhus, refused to cross the river and left Riverside, returning to the Estate. In the evening twilight, ruined houses looked longingly at Kors with empty eye sockets of broken windows, and Kors felt the heavy atmosphere of hunger and suffering that had reigned here quite recently. He seemed to hear the drawn-out groans of people dying in agony from everywhere, and he was haunted by an unconscious feeling of despair and hopelessness. Or were they the sounds of the wind rushing in hysterical gusts through empty lanes? This place was cursed, Kors thought. He approached one of the houses he recognized. Here he used to play “the fool” with his son and prince Arel. Then he had fun. It seemed that it was in another life, and Kors was different, also from another life. He was free, cheerful and confident. He was himself and was not defiled or touched. How dignified, proud and calm he was then! Absolutely confident that he was in complete control of the situation and nothing bad could happen to him. He was the commander of the true blacks, an unquestionable authority. He was their faithful companion and friend. He looked good and looked boldly into the future. He fearlessly approached the Demon, studying him with curiosity and not even knowing how it would all turn out. He was amused by the way the Demon scared over Arel, then Kors couldn’t even imagine, did not even admit the thought that something similar could happen to him. Not a single doubt or premonition of danger crept into his soul. He was so presumptuous! Just a fool, confident in his righteousness and infallibility.
Kors dismounted near one of the houses and climbed the porch. Here he once stood and smoked before the beginning of a meeting of commanders. And Nikto that evening first opened his face in front of people, having arrived without a mask. He was so handsome. “Kors, don't smoke. Everything will be fine,” Nikto told him. “Yes. Sly Demon, you got me through. You winded round my little finger like I was a naive child”. Kors went into the room, there was still a table, and on it lay a crumpled dusty tablecloth. He sat down in his place, just as he sat then, during the meeting. He just sat blankly, as if hearing the voices of his officers. Nothing could be returned. He couldn’t go back to that moment and do everything differently, replay, stay free. How good it was for him then, but he realized that only now. He didn’t value it then. He didn’t appreciate freedom, because it was a natural state for him, a familiar sensation, like the air you breathe and you don’t notice it until your throat is squeezed. And how thoughtlessly he gave the most valuable thing, only later realizing what it was like to breathe with permission, breathe because you were graciously allowed to do so, and to be not a person, but a thing. “Arrogant fool!” Blinded by his pride and sense of power, which turned out to be only an illusion! His whole life collapsed overnight. He understood that the beginning of this fall began long before Riverside, but here, as it seemed to him, it took final shape. At what point did he make this fatal turn in the wrong direction?
“I don’t understand why you are protecting this boy like that? Son of the Devil, here's your time! I must confess that I didn’t think he looked so much like a girl!”
“What?!”
“The Son of the Devil is a pretty blonde with blue eyes. I have never seen white male half-bloods live, only female slaves. But it turns out that they are all the same! And guys are like girls, they are the same.”
“Crassus, I will kill you!”
“Vitor, stop it! I need to tell you something urgently. Very important, confidently. Let's go freshen up… I need fresh air, it's stuffy here. Vitor! Calm down, what are you doing?! Don’t be silly! What's the matter with you?!”
“What's happening? You are crazy?! What are you doing?!”
“Nothing! Everything is fine!”
“You started smoking again! You don't come to sit with us in the evening. I saw his unclean horse at your camping tent, he stood there until morning. Kors, I have known you for a long time, I know your preferences. This white half-blood is very similar to Iness, I paid attention to this today. Do you see familiar features in him? Yes? Are you crushing on him?”
“What?!”
“And judging by the looks he throws at you, he also reciprocates you, however, it just doesn’t surprise me, but you?! Vitor, what are you doing?”
“What looks does he throw at me? What are you making up, Varah?”
“Don’t show your relationship so clearly. Don’t stand up for him so openly! Do you have love with him?”
“I don’t blame you,” Kamiel tried to cheer him up somehow. “The boy is really cute, nice features, though not tall and march.”
“What?! Gods!”
“Do what you want with him, but in secret. Please, not so openly! Don’t embarrass yourself! Vitor, you ruined your reputation in the city. I don’t believe in all these stories of naive commoners from Lower. The Son of the Devil, who opened a portal to the catacombs of the prison dungeon. This is all bullshit! You helped him escape! You lost his position because of him, came to him here! You help him! Vitor, what are you doing, are you crazy?”
“Yes. I just went crazy and derailed my life.”
“For a young boy?”
“He is already twenty-five years old.”
“So what? He could be your son, Vitor!”
“It’s terrible, right?”
“No. Just don’t advertise it so clearly! Just as you didn’t advertise your relationship with the prince.”
“Damn! Have you all already guessed?”
“No, but after you began to protect him so much… and you should have seen your face at the meeting when Crassus called him a cripple. You started to shake. You were ready to kill Crassus, I know you and I know what your face is when you want to kill. Of course, everyone was surprised and began to think too much. By the way, unlike you, he made no sign. It's
