The Cutting Edge Read Online Free

lay strangely still on the wolfskin. "By tradition, the honor is yours." He glanced at the others. "The XIIth has a new signifer, gentlemen."
    Revenge! Close. Dark night. Knife in the ribs ...
    Then, those imperial eyes-imperious eyes-slashed back at Ylo. The legate seemed vaguely puzzled, as if seeing or hearing something not quite right.
    "Service? "
    "Two years, sir." More hesitation.
    "Mmm ... Can you ride?"
    "Yes, sir. "
    Surprise.
    "Read and write?"
    "Yes, sir." Astonishment. Puzzled glances.
    Then a voice in the background said, "Ylo? Ylopingo ... ?" There had never been much chance of keeping it secret. "Consul Ylopingo was my father, sir."
    The legate stiffened. "An Yllipo?" Stunned silence.
    Then the prince said softly, "Thank you, gentlemen," and everyone else melted away. Remarkable. Empty tent.
    Just the two of them.
    Prince Emshandar nodded toward an oaken chest. The new signifer tottered gratefully across to it and sat down, thinking that he would have fallen over had he been left on his feet much longer. His bones burned.
    "Tell me."
    Ylo told his story. It did not take long.
    The legate stared hard at him all the time, fingers still motionless upon the wolfskin. Then he gestured at a table in a corner. "Wine. And take one for yourself."
    Ylo rose. He snapped open the sealed flask with an expertise he had forgotten he had, but his hand trembled as he filled the goblets. He had just realized that he must be a problem for the prince, and men who embarrassed princes had a very short life expectancy. His hand shook even harder as he passed over the drink, because he was thinking poison. That was another possible means of assassination, safer for the assassin. Revenge would be sweeter if he could himself survive to enjoy it. Oh Gods! His mind was a rats' nest. He didn't know what he was thinking. Kill the heir to the throne? What madness was that?
    He went back to the chest.
    They drank, and the legate's gaze never left him. Good wine ... brought back memories.
    "Signifer," the prince said softly.
    Not certain he was being addressed, Ylo said, "Sir?"
    "Your predecessor was a close confidant of mine. Did you know that? "
    "Yes, sir. Your cousin."
    That display of knowledge won a nod of surprise, and approval. "Yes. He was my signifer. He was also my personal secretary, my closest and most trusted aide, and chief of my personal staff. " Emshandar sipped at the wine without taking his eyes off Ylo. "I assumed you were just a common legionary. I assumed you would become the legion's signifer-but not mine. You understand? You understand the distinction?"
    "Yes, sir. "
    "There's a world of difference between a man who waves a pole about and one who ciphers letters to the imperor. "
    "I understand, sir."
    The prince laid his goblet down on a table beside him and rubbed his eyes with the knuckles of both hands. Then he fixed that dark, burning gaze on Ylo again.
    Had he been capable of feeling anything, Ylo might have felt relief then-or even amusement at the thought of him, Ylo, attempting to function as aide-de-camp to the prince imperial. Being signifer to the legion was enough-it would be heaven after being a common sword banger. And there would be opportunities for revenge if that was what he wanted after he had considered the pros and cons.
    Then the prince said, "Could you serve me?"
    God of Madness! Ylo had thought the matter was settled. Serve this murderer?
    The imperor was ancient. Any day now the Gods were going to call in his black soul and weigh it-good luck to Them if They found one grain of good in it! This man would mount the Opal Throne as Emshandar V.
    His close friends and aides would roll to the top of the heap at once. His personal signifer would be in line for heady promotions, even a consulship, perhaps. That long-lost political career was back on the table again. In fact it was shining brighter than it had ever done.
    Sudden caution warned Ylo that politics had turned out to be more dangerous for