Chapter 32
A st.u.r.dy, gray-haired old man was sitting behind a luxurious chair and said with a sigh:
«Martin died. Choked to death with some bun.»
Flitz's legs bent because of this news. He would have fell straight on the carpet, but, fortunately, there turned out to be a chair nearby. The man, hunched over and clasping his head in his hands, moaned in despair:
«Bun?! What the h.e.l.l is a bun?! Heaven knows how to joke, but it's not that f.u.c.king funny!»
Elder Boe grimaced.:
«You always were unleashed language, but don't dare to speak this way in my presence, I'm not a Patriarch.»
Flitz closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together. Who could know that his former student, and now the listener of any stories, would kick back, having choked? It's not even funny.
Boe, after a pause and allowing formacist a while to recover, got down to business.
«After Martin's death, the formations of two hundred members of our family had fallen down. They can not be identified without a toKyon, which greatly complicates their and ours lives. Ah, Yes... three Hundred slaves had also lost formations. Now animals do not identify them as theirs and attack at the first opportunity. We have already lost a few dozen of slaves, while the rest refuse to go to work because of fear of being eaten. And I can understand them... well, the Stones need you. From tomorrow on, you should urgently be involved into formation work.»
Flitz snorted sarcastically.:
«f.u.c.k it. And why do we have so many wild animals in manor, if they even eat our people?»
Boe rubbed his temples irritably.:
«They're not wild, but la.s.soed... Does not matter. If all of the Stones and slaves had their own formations, the animals would continue to behave like kitties. Who could know that the idiot would die from a crumb?!" - the elder spat in annoyance. This whole farce fell on his head at absolutely wrong time. However, noticing the darkened face of Flitz, he hurried to apologize: - "I'm sorry... I know he was your disciple. The last week was too hard because of all this, and I'm the only elder on the estate at the moment.»
«No matter.» - Flitz replied coldly. «I'll start work tomorrow.»
«…»
Formation, after the death of a formacist who imposed them began to smolder like embers, lose their function. The beasts that roamed across the estate were not trained – so they were simply imposed subordinate formations on in the form of collars, called "arkanums". All members of the family could control animals to be protected by them and follow their orders. The beasts were not obeyed to the slaves, but, due to the imposed formations, did not dare to attack the slaves.
The elder Boe once again rubbed his temples – because of all these problems he seems to have again got a migraine. Flitz was not young, and it was even scary to think about the chaos that would begin to happen in the estate after his death.
After talking to the elder, Flitz went to his office to prepare everything for tomorrow's work. He was on the second floor, and was not far from the place where the newly arrived slaves were delivered.
From outside there came a noise, or rather curses.
Flitz threw the stack of doc.u.ments into the desk drawer with a grim look and went to the window. His office was opposite the "shed" where the newly arrived slaves were received. It seems that the new batch would have to be delivered just today.
There was a usual scene outside the window: in the s.p.a.cious courtyard, the warden was yelling at some poor slave. It happened the same way every year. He was about to continue to put things like the corner of his eye suddenly noticed the almost imperceptible movement of the boy, from whose hands slipped the bar of soap, and bounced off the wall and went straight under the foot "superiors." It was shot on target – the man fell to the ground, and even drove his face.
The old man grinned at his beard: {Not bad, not bad at all…}
And in the next moment gla.s.s serving him a "screen" to view this show, was shamelessly brokeon, the wicked warden quickly found the cause of its failure, and then threw the soap directly
«You're a f.u.c.king dirty c.u.n.t!» Gloomy Flitz swore, coaxed out from under the table ill-fated means of hygiene and threw it back with triple force. f.u.c.k him out!
{Got it!} – vengefully snorted the old man, watching with satisfaction as Hein fiercely rubbing a bruised eye. The next moment the warden like a buffalo rushed at the "apt" kid – of course, he had to release his anger on someone. - {Even feel sorry for the kid, however, it's not problem the problem of mine.} – Flitz decided and was about to move away from the window, as he noticed the deliverer of slaves rapidly approaching and in the next moment, Hein, so unlucky for today, received a hefty slap. – {Hmm, das he decided to bail out the guy? It is wonderer and wonderer.}
Flitz's mood has improved somewhat, funny boy allowed him a little distracted from thinking about the death of the disciple. He laid out his things, checked the serviceability of his tools, shook his head disapprovingly at the tiny spider that had lived in the corner between the wardrobe and the ceiling – now he could go about his business. However, his plans were disrupted at the very beginning: there was a clatter on the stairs outside, and then the door creaked.
Ren rushed into the office with a group of slaves. In the "tail" of the crowd the eyes of formacist vigilantly grabbed the scraggly top of a recent "trickster", who on his first day of stay here incurred an enemy in the person of the warden.
…
Kyon came in almost last. He briefly scanned a s.p.a.cious room that is furnished in "old style" by the standards of this culture: a bulky oak table and a huge cabinet made of the same wood; shelves loaded with all sorts of little things and a frame with a black and white photo of a gray-haired thin woman – {Hmm, here is invented a camera or its a.n.a.logue?}; a floor-to-ceiling window behind the Desk – or rather, a broken window, shyly covered with heavy and probably very dusty curtains.
The old man was sitting at the table with his fingertips closed in front of him. Tall and thin, with white hair and a long beard. Despite the age-old "gray sage", the expression of his face did not create the impression of a pleasant personality, rather it spoke of the abominable character and rude manners.
Ren, recognizing the old man as Flitz, hurried to bow, ordering for all the slaves to do the same. Having raised his head, he spoke a little nervously and respectfully:
«Mr. Flitz, I have delivered a new batch of slaves today. I'm sorry it's so late, but the office hours aren't up yet, so I thought…»
The old man interrupted him with a gesture and, stroking his gray beard, said:
«Ren, do you know that Martin has died recently?»
«Sir, I didn't know, sorry... I compa.s.s your for the loss…»
Flitz took the pipe out of the drawer and looked for the matches with his eyes. After the second strike the office was filled with smoke. The old man inhaled with satisfaction and continued:
«Your party of slaves is five hundredth in line, so you can roll home like the hedgehog.»
«Yes, sir.» - Ren bowed slightly and hurriedly began to back away towards the exit, when he was suddenly stopped by a thoughtful utterance:
«Why have you protected the boy?»
Ren uncomfortably lowered the glance.
«Sir, I just gave a slap to my colleague for being unprofessional…»
«Who are to f.u.c.king trying to fool me, sucker?» - dangerously squinting, snorted the old man.
The deliverer bowed his head hurriedly.:
«Sorry, I really protected the kid for my reasons... Sorry I cheated…»
«Spit it out, I got sick and tired of you.» - Flitz lazily dropped with enjoy savoring the smoke of good tobacco. Now he looked arrogant, like a king.
The man swallowed, hesitated, but answered:
«The guy... He seemed gifted to me. We became friends on the way out of the mine, and he proved himself in the mine... So I decided to protect the nice guy.»
Flitz with regal wistful face put a couple of smoke rings, dumped the ashes out. He scanned with appraising look the guy who seemed to be pretty athletic, tough, who could bear a lot. And took a decision.
«You may be free. And the guy stays here.»
Ren bowed, threw a meaningful look at Kyon and took the group away.
The old man beckoned the guy closer, looked closely at the formation on his forehead:
«Kyon, have you ever done martial arts?»
The young man did not understand exactly what's going on, but he clearly felt the dangerous aura radiated from that senior dude. Formacists always took a high position, and this man is clearly of those, and his manners said a lot.
«Yes, I had a little experience in training, I can show a couple of tricks…»
«Monkey's movements are not interested me.» - the old man laughed. – «Take off your s.h.i.+rt.»
Kyon obediently stripped to the waist.
The old man examined his body and nodded his head contentedly: medium size relief muscle, low fat, strong posture, smooth strong back. This one will withstand a hundred or even a thousand blows of the mistress - that's what was needed. He felt a bit sorry for this "sample", but the will of Juno was the law for him. Still, he promised her grandpa he'd take care of her. It is a pity that there was so much work in the mine... there is no enough time to be with her. And these formations also, d.a.m.n them.
And yet – a nice scoundrel! Even too much: the young man looked too cute, nice, s.h.a.ggy. Such slaves should not be. They were usually thin, haggard, joyless zombies, and now here... However, with his future "job" his life would not be long.
«Yes, not bad, not bad.» - keep repeating Flitz with dreamy sigh – he would not have refused such looks for himself, unfortunately, he had never been involved into magic of body transfer, if such sphere exists at all.
«Thank you for the compliment, sir.» - slightly smiled Kyon and added with the hope: - «Do you want to take me as an apprentice?»
«hha! Boy, I have the 2nd rank in the family, why would you be so honored? Big deal, muscle and appearance... I have another job for you, and it is very daunting.» - he leaned back in his chair, his fingertips clasped in front of him, waiting for the boy to react cheerfully.
Kyon knit his brow discontentedly: that won't do. What's the job?
«Sir, I'm really worth a lot! How about you check on me?»
He s.h.i.+vered under the intent gaze, as if an old man scanned his rotten.
«Hmm... you know, I think that you have found a wrong person to boast before. But, so be it, anyway. I'm sick of this d.a.m.n office, at least I will have some fresh air. Come on, let's see your vaunted skills, but G.o.d forbid you disappoint me, I will wring your neck.»
Kyon gulped from a warning, but being confident in his strength, relaxed: {Fine! He's definitely going to be my master...} In the head have lined up ambitious plans for the nearest bright future. He had only left the mine and had already been in one step away from the mentoring of a senior elder. What could be better?