Having outlined the circle of possible defenders, Kors calmed down a little. He will not be offended.

“But why is Nik such a fool? Why?” Composure turned out to be short-lived, Kors couldn’t pull himself together. Thoughts swirled in his head over and over again. He went through all the possible options for future events in the third circle, over and over again thinking about the situation in which he found himself and how to get out of it with the least losses. All kinds of versions wound up on each other, the assumptions became more and more fantastic. One by one, Kors smoked Parky’s cigarettes, feeling that he was losing his last strength in empty fabrications, and couldn’t stop.

“What could I be missing? What I didn’t pay attention to? What else can I think of? And how can Lis help? Lis bends himself. They rolled Lis themselves as they wanted before going to Ore Town. He got it great, and he obeyed. How will he help me? With a joke? In fact, I helped him. I acted as his patron, promised to persuade the Demon, change his anger to mercy, so that the Demon would finally allow Lis to wipe the shameful clown makeup from his face. However, I didn’t have time to do this, but Lis thought that I had asked for him, and said to me: “Thank you!” So Lis must now help me! Return a debt! What if I speak frankly with Leonardo in the city? The conversation is very difficult, and what will Leonardo say to this?

“Mission accomplished!”

Kors jumped sharply in surprise. The insane flow of his thoughts was interrupted by Parky. He had entered the tent, unceremoniously jerking Kors back to reality, and now stood in front of him, awaiting further orders.

“Commander, everything is ready,” the unclean one reported again, seeing that Kors was just sitting, staring blankly at him, and was silent.

“Ah… And… horse. Have you put my horse under a canopy?” Kors finally spoke up.

“Yes, sir!” Parky saluted.

“All right.” Kors had nothing to complain about. Parky’s tent was clean and free of luxuries, which Kors felt were not due to his subordinate. Ascetic, modest, nothing more than necessary. Kors’ tent was quickly set up by the unclean ones. The horse was being looked after. Kors got up, proudly straightened his back, and, making a stone expression on his face, headed for the exit. And noticing that he had left dirty footprints in Parky’s tent, he tried to make his face even more haughty.

Entering his room, Kors saw Tyutya. She sat on her knees, her head bowed low, covered with a black cape, and next to her stood a basin of water. Kors understood everything, and immediately sat down on a chair. “If the water is cold, I will make you regret it!” he thought angrily, still wanting to vent his annoyance on someone. But the water in the basin was warm, pleasantly warming her cold feet. Tyutya very carefully and delicately began to wash off the dirt from his feet with a washcloth lathered with soap. Her hands were open, and Kors saw that a thin gold ring with a blue stone gleamed on the slave’s finger. “Oh, Parky, stupid wolf! What are you doing? Why do you give a useless cunning fox precious gifts? How does she do it? How does this red bitch manage to shake it out of him? After all, she has nothing! No tongue, no breasts, a dry cut hole. There is nothing, but, nevertheless, she has an influence on my captain, some kind of secret power, which she shamelessly uses for her own purposes and for her own good. She has hidden leverage, thought Kors, and I have no way to influence Nik! And why don’t I still have such an invisible power as Prince Arel has! That’s the only reason I can’t give them a fitting rebuff. Of course! Arel will quickly crush me with his strength, and Nik even more so possesses it to perfection. But not me! And they are not equal! Why do I hear useless thoughts, but I can’t squeeze anyone? Squeeze anyone’s throat!”