“You think I'm afraid of you?! I will rot you in a stone bag,” Kors whispered, “it will be a tombstone for him. A beautiful gravestone, and you will lie there and you will not be able to move, and you will not be able to control this body anymore. What do you think about my idea?”
“No…,” Nikto said.
“Are you afraid of me?!”
Nikto covered his face with his hands.
“Nolan!” Cried Kors.
The soldiers readily returned to the room, and the doctor with them, seeing Nikto lying on the floor, none of them seemed surprised.
“Do you still need me?” Balthazar Nate asked carefully.
“No. Thanks for the help. And I think you will have to arrange injections for him at least for a while, because I will still need him…” Kors hesitated. “Alive.”
“I understand,” the doctor nodded, “I will organize everything. We will support him as long as needed. And we can even treat him, I think there is a running infection in the blood and liver…”
“Don’t treat. Just give it a minimum so that he moves and that's it.”
“Yes. Can I go?”
“Go, and… thanks for the help.”
“I’m always at your service.”
The doctor left, and the soldiers, on the contrary, habitually approached the victim. They knew that all interrogations end in such a way, and this will not be an exception.
“Undress him,” Kors waved his hand wearily.
He sat at the table and covered his face with his hands, as if gathering his thoughts.
A few thuds were heard, he knew that the guard, undressing Nikto, had already begun to act.
“Wow! What does he have there? Some kind of piece of iron… Sir Kors?”
He took his hands from his face:
“Well, what's the problem…” And fell silent, staring at Nikto as well. Probably, it was a very stupid sight, Nikto in Arel’s belt of fidelity.
“That's even how…” Said Vitor Kors, somewhat perplexed.
“To take off?” Asked Nolan.
“No. Don’t. Let it remain so.”
“And what is this, sir? Some kind of protection?”
“Well, you have to ask him. Just I don’t think that he will tell us about it now.”
Kors examined his tattooed hips, and a chain encircling them. He looked at the crooked sign of Prince Arel, with a healed burn instead of a bird's head.
“Nikto, how did you think to take me for a ride, disfiguring his body like that? Didn't Arel tell you how my interrogations usually end?”
“He told me,” Nikto said.