“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 fat fool was never clever, but this time his head just went blank, he kept repeating: “We will meet them behind the wall. We will meet them behind the wall”, as if a demon had possessed him, he behaved like a possessed person. However, it doesn't matter anymore. Tell me what do you intend to do next?”
“I don’t know yet,” said Lis.
His father looked at him very closely.
“You know. But you don't want to tell me. I'm not your enemy.”
Lis reflexively reached for his cigarettes and lit one. Igmer just shook his head silently and winced. Lis, without taking a couple of puffs, quickly put out his cigarette in a porcelain vase:
“Sorry.”
“What to do now, it stinks anyway! Smoke! What a disgusting habit!”
But Lis didn't light a new cigarette. He still tried not to meet his father's eyes:
“I really don't know yet,” he repeated and quickly looked at Igmer, who looked at him reproachfully.
“Some time ago I heard rumors that red commander Sigmer had appeared across the river. With his army, he cleaned the territories and put things in order, burned the regional outpost. I…” Igmer hesitated. “I wanted to believe and didn’t believe. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t think of anything, I buried you and mourned. And I was afraid that I was just flattering myself with false hopes, and there was an impostor walking across the river, hiding behind your legendary name. But when I learned that Sigmer had captured Crimson Rock… then… I believed it was you. Only you could do it! Crimson Rock is too tough for anyone. And I left the Upper World, I was waiting for you here. Because I knew my Sigmer would not stop and would move on. I knew that you would come to Ore town.”
Lis was silent, his head bowed.
“Do you know what to do next?” Igmer took out Marcus’ folded leaflet from his pocket. “And what's that?”
Lis looked at the leaflet:
“Just agitation.”
“No. Not just agitation. We thought about it with you, planned, dreamed. Many reds are thinking about independence. And now even more. We are tired of the war with the blacks. The war turned into an absurd and unpromising action. You appeared at the right time and in the right place.”
And, since Lis was still silent, his father asked:
“Tell me, how did you manage to survive in the Black City, among enemies?”
“I took on the service of Prince Arel Chig… Chester, he needed an experienced strategist in the fight against competitors for spheres of influence in the city.”
“Are you taking substances?”
Lis shook his head slowly, and, lifting the sleeve of his jacket, showed his father a chained wrist.
“Didn't you take it off? Didn't get rid of it?” His father was surprised. “Do you still wear the bracelet with which I chained you?”
“Yes. I never took “black water” again, I kept my vow to you.”
“I believe you,” Igmer said, “simply because if you continued to do this, you would not be sitting here now.”
And Lis finally looked at him point-blank.
