The Mist and the Lightning. Part VII. Ви Корс
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Название: The Mist and the Lightning. Part VII
Автор: Ви Корс
Издательство: ЛитРес: Самиздат
Жанр: Героическая фантастика
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“Heck!” He cursed, putting it in place.
“So, what is next? Let’s suppose a doctor would cure you. His name was Caspar, if I am not mistaken? Caspar Yanti.”
Nikto nodded.
“Yes.”
“And what would you do next?”
“Maybe… maybe he would let me stay with him and help him. I would like that. I would stay with him. I understand medicine and would help him.”
“Do you understand medicine?!”
“Yes. Mother and sister taught me.”
“According to my sources, Caspar Yanti moved to the city several years ago, and lives here.”
“I know that,” Nikto answered.
“Why aren't you with him now? Why don’t you help him?” A grin played on Kors’ lips.
Nikto bowed his head:
“Now it's too late… But,” he raised his face in some kind of a fit, “I still love medi… medicine! Especially I’m good with eyes!”
Kors stopped smiling.
“You tell me everything very frankly, Nikto, that's what your name is, right?”
“Yes.”
“What did the prince call you?”
“Prince Arel?”
“Yes.”
“Nik.”
“Just Nik?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm… I never would have called you Nik. But that’s only Arel! If he doesn’t have enough imagination, even to come up with decent names for his people! If a person is squint, he will call him Squint-Eye, if he is red-haired, he will be Lis, if Nikto, he will be Nik,”Kors grinned.
“Yes. Nik,” Nikto confirmed.
“Nik, and Prince Arel didn’t tell you how our conversations usually went with him?”
“He told me.”
“Didn’t he tell you to keep your mouth shut? Didn’t he tell you to be silent, as to Squint-Eye or others?”
“My words, they mean nothing, I don’t do anything bad to anyone through them, they are no use now.”
“So it turns out you have your own head on your shoulders?”
Nikto shook his head:
“What does it mean?”
“Go here. Sit on a chair. Release him. Let him stand and sit in front of me in a chair.”
Nikto awkwardly got up from his knees, walked forward slowly, he extended his hands in handcuffs in front of him, touching the back of a chair, circled it and sat down.
“Do you have poor eyesight?!”
“I see poorly in the light.”
“Do you see me?”
Nikto shook his head.
“No. I need dark glasses. Here it’s light as on the street and the sun in the window hits right in the eye.”
Kors nodded toward his soldiers.
“Close the curtains.”
Nolan promptly complied.
“Tell me, how long have you been fighting at the Coliseum?”
“At the Coliseum?” Nikto seemed a little surprised, Kors asked him about everything and at odds, “In the “Lower” – two seasons.”
“Do you remember your first fight?”
“The first fight? No, probably not, maybe the first battle here in the city.”
“Tell me?”
“Why do you need this?”
“Maybe I want to hear the story of your life.”
“The story of my life?!”
“Yes. I have nowhere to hurry, you will tell me, and I will sit, listen.”
“I need… a restorative…”
“I see. You need drugs, you can’t find a place for yourself, leave your nose and eyes alone, you rub them every five seconds!”
“I need a restorative.”
“Nik, how old are you?”
“Twenty four. Probably…”
“When is your birthday?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good. What do you take, tell me, and now I’ll write down the names and send for the doctor. He will help you, but only so that we can continue our conversation.”
Nikto dictated the names of the drugs and indicated the proportions, and Vitor Kors wrote all this on a piece of paper:
“Take this paper to Dr. Baltazar Nate in the prison infirmary, let him take from this list what he sees fit and immediately come here.”
One of the soldiers took a note and quickly left the office.
“How did it happen that you began to do this?” Kors returned to the conversation.
“Take restoratives?”
“Prick yourself all sorts of rubbish.”
“I don't remember, it was… it was a long time ago.Everyone does it. Then the unclean… they made me addict to “black water”. I tried…” Nikto hesitated, picking up a word, “to move out, but it's hard… and I can’t.”
“And I can’t watch you jerk, can I give you a cigarette? Give him a cigarette.”
“Thanks.”
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