ate another candied fruit.
“I know now who Lis’ father is,” said Kors as if nothing had happened, not paying any attention to the embarrassed look of Nikto, tense Parky and the slightly mocking look of Zaf.
“Did you know him?” Zaf was surprised.
“No. But I fought against him, he was in his time a very… hmmm… tough commander. To enter into confrontation with him was already tantamount to defeat.”
“And you entered?”
“Yes,” said Kors briefly, without details.
“He defeated you?”
Kors froze, and then, shaking his head, replied:
“Yes.”
“It's a pity,” said Zaf, and Kors was surprised to feel that Zaf was sincere and he was really sorry, and Kors’ honesty, the fact that he admitted his defeat, didn’t push him away. Previously, Kors would never have admitted his failure so simply and without explanation, fearing that they would not understand him and turn away from him. And now – now he boldly spoke about his failures and didn’t feel weaker from this. And he didn’t feel that the unclean ones were disappointed in him, they took it somehow absolutely calmly. Kors’ noble black associates would immediately have made bewildered faces in response to such a frank confession. Such sincerity was not accepted in their circles, everyone spoke only about their achievements. Kors felt easy and merry:
“Igmer’s army squeezed us in pincers near Vlas, I gave the order to retreat and tried to lead the people through the swamps. Knee-deep in water, we tried for several days to get out of the encirclement, but still managed to escape from the cauldron.”
“You led the soldiers out of the lethal cauldron?” Asked Zaf, his face was very serious.
“Yes. More than a thousand soldiers, but we lost Vlas.”
“Sometimes it is more right to retreat,” noted Zaf.
“Tell that to Lis,” Kors chuckled with some bitterness, “or he’s Sigmer now. Stop! How did I not immediately guess who his father was! His father’s name is Igmer, and he is his son. Igmer’s son – Sigmer! How simple it is!”
And everyone looked at Kors so that he was even embarrassed a little of their looks, just like Nick was before.
“Well, it's just…”
“Vitor, you are very smart,” said Nikto. He sat in the chair, as Kors had seated him, and also looked at Kors with respect. And Zaf handed Kors a glass of wine:
“Let's have a drink,” he suggested. “And I want to relax already, finally. There are such plump women here, have you noticed? I want to hush up some plump maid!”
“They have eaten too much sweets,” Parky remarked, grinning, opening his mouth slightly, the decoration in his nose still didn’t allow him to breathe normally. He looked longingly at the chocolate and fruit, but didn’t dare to take them without the permission of Kors.
They laughed.
“I'll take the fattest one with me to the Black City,” said Zaf, “or two. Two plump red pigs.”
“What's the point, Zaf?” Smiled Kors. “They will lose weight quickly!”
And Zaf again whinnied in satisfaction:
“Yes! But I saw one with such an ass…”
And at that time Karina entered the room, everyone turned to her.
“Karina? Everything is fine?!” Asked Kors anxiously.
“Yes… probably,” she sat down on the sofa in confusion, took off her mask, her expression was not at all happy.
“What's happening? Has Igmer accepted him?”
Karina looked at her father:
“I think so, he said, “Welcome,” but he didn't even hug him. After all, this is his son! And then, he said to me: “Send her away”, and I ran away.”
“It's okay,” Kors shrugged. “Why would he hug his prodigal son? He didn’t live up to his hopes, Lis failed the offensive, which ultimately led to the defeat of the red army, began to take drugs, “black water”, and, being almost the king of the reds in our world, slipped down and became just a banal bandit. Complete failure. He disgraced his father. I'm sure Igmer had to endure a lot of humiliation and ridicule because of his son. The reds sentenced Lis to death, he was incredibly lucky that he managed to escape. And mind you, his father, no matter what, didn’t disown him. So I think it's okay. And the fact that Igmer asked you to leave is also in the order of things. Lis is used to dragging you everywhere with him, where it is needed and where it is not needed. Red women don’t participate in the lives of men and their conversations. You will have to come to terms with this, Karina, since you chose a red husband.”
“It's just…” Karina looked upset. “He somehow toughly talks with him, and not about that… and Lis, I felt he was unpleasant from this …”
“Yes? Unpleasant? Why didn't he send him to hell, how he sent us here a hundred times a day?”
And Karina looked at her father very condemningly.
Igmer walked over to the table and sat down at it, gesturing to the chair opposite:
“Sit down.”
Lis came up and sat down, his father continued to examine him closely, and Lis looked away.
“You have changed, you have become different,” Igmer repeated again, “outwardly it seems that you have remained the same, but something in you has changed, changed a lot, and I cannot understand what!”
He again looked closely at frozen Lis, held out his hand, turning his hand towards him, looking at the inscription “Impudence”. Reds were calm about body modifications, and for warriors it was often mandatory: scarring, tattoos and piercings were not considered a sin and an unnatural distortion of the divine image of the ancestors, desecration of the body, created by the gods in their own image and likeness.
“You had scars on your face, now they are gone. Where are your battle scars? Did they disappear after thirty too?”
“No.”
“Did you remove them? Are black healers so advanced in medicine?”
“Yes, I got rid of the scars on my face.”
“Why so? Didn't you have the audacity to wear them with pride?” Igmer grinned.
And Lis said nothing.
“Okay. Congratulations. You took over the Ore town thanks to Kudmer’s stupidity. You are lucky. This
