Dave Duncan – The Cutting Edge – A Handful of Men. Book 1

“You know the place?” Ylo demanded excitedly.

“If it is the one I am thinking of, yes I do. It was pointed out to me by a relative of mine.”

“Reliable identification?”

“Yes.”

Ylo nodded, satisfied. Somehow that inexplicable vision in the preflecting pool seemed very important now.

Eshiala was impress—or was she? If the Protocol had failed, then the Impire itself was as fragile now as a robin’s egg. Shandie had acted as if he took the warlock’s warning very seriously indeed. No one had more experience of warlocks’ advice than he.

Then the carriage arrived, spraying slush. While the proconsul and his wife were climbing aboard, Ylo’s arm was gripped by a shaky hand. He turned to face the rotund form of Lord Umpily, looking terrified.

“Signifer!” he bleated. “What is happening? These guardsmen—” Apparently he thought he was under arrest.

“The imperor wants you to attend a strategy meeting, my Lord.”

The chief of protocol relaxed with a loud gasp of relief, but he was obviously badly rattled. “That’s good! Very good. Ylo, I have something I must tell him as soon as possible! Very important!”

“Then you’ll have the chance as soon—”

“The pool, remember? I lied when—”

“You can tell him yourself, my—”

The fat man failed to sense the warning. He raised his voice over the tolling of the bells. “I saw a dwarf! Not the warlock, another one, but a dwarf—”

“My lord—”

“He was sitting on the Opal Throne!” Umpily wailed.

4

The drive was brief. In a few minutes Ylo and Umpily walked together into a palace eerily hushed and deserted. The darkening corridors bore only a fraction of their normal profusion of candles and lanterns. Already the paintings and statues were draped with black crepe. The Throne Room was almost empty, and dark. Footmen clad in deep mourning had begun lighting candelabra.

Ylo found himself whispering, almost trying to tiptoe. He noticed little Sir Acopulo standing close to the massive form of Centurion Hardgraa and had a brief whimsical image of a bird nesting in a tree. Proconsul Ionfeu and Lady Eigaze were working their way around the room, peering under the crepe hangings to look at the paintings.

They headed for Ylo when he strode over to the east wall. He found the one he wanted at the second try.

“Yes, that’s it,” Eigaze said. She shot Ylo a worried look. ”What is your interest in that place?”

“I am not at liberty to say, ma’am. Will you tell me where it is?”

She bit her plump lip and then shook her head. “I had rather not say. If Sh-If his Majesty needs to know, I will tell him, of course.”

Curious! Why should she be concerned with that strange little town and castle?

The imperor might be waiting upstairs, in the imperial bedchamber, or he might be leagues away, fleeing from the city as the warlock had suggested.

Ylo was still carrying Emine’s shield and buckler, which were a perfect excuse. “I shall put these back where they belong,” he announced, heading for the private stair that led up to the imperor’s quarters.

Palace servants in mourning dress lined the corridor, many weeping, all waiting to pay their last respects. The public lying-in-state would start tomorrow. The muffled sobbing and constant clanging of bells grated on Ylo’s nerves. He strode to the head of the line, to find the doors closed and guarded.

The officer in charge was Centurion Hithi. He paled and showed his teeth when he saw Ylo. Very likely Hithi’s seconds would be calling on Ylo in the near future, although the challenge would have to wait now until the court came out of mouming. Ylo had not decided what to do about that if it happened. Have the man transferred to Pondague or Guwush, probably. “Their Majesties are in there,” Hithi growled. “Good. I need to see them,” Ylo responded blandly.

The centurion gritted his teeth, staring at the regalia. Then he stepped back to let Ylo open the door himself.

He had seen the Abnila Chamber only once, about five months ago, when he had supervised the setting up of tables and desks to make an office. Emshandar had not been present at the time. The room was larger than he remembered, about the size of a twenty-man dormitory in a legionary barracks. It was dim, lit only by tall candelabra at the corners of the great bed, but the opulence of the fittings showed even in the uncertain light’. The tables and office clutter had gone. The corpse lay as if asleep, skeletal face shrunken and parchment-tinted. Emshandar was beyond the reach of mortal revenge.

Eshiala sat in a chair by the fireplace with her daughter on her knee. The child looked grumpy and red-eyed. Her mother stared at Ylo without expression, tense with strain. She was wearing a black gown, and black furs lay on another chair beside her.

There was no sign of Shandie.

Ylo saluted the impress stolidly. He inspected the room again. He knew the sword and buckler were kept in here somewhere. Then he saw a doorway that had not been there before, an unframed rectangular opening in the wall. He walked over to it.

The secret room beyond was large and dark, its walls hidden behind shelves and shelves of great books. Shandie was inspecting their spines by the light of a candle. As always when wearing civilian garb, he seemed totally nondescript.

Seeing Ylo, he turned away from his task and came out. As he emerged, the opening disappeared. He showed his teeth in a humorless smile.

“The private Imperial Archives.” He pointed with a scroll of vellum he had brought from the room. “Put those down over there. Did you get everybody?”

“They’re waiting in the Throne Room, Sire—Proconsul lonfeu and his wife, Lord Umpily, Sir Acopulo, and Centurion Hardgraa. Marshal Ithy is sick. Legate Ugoatho is on his way.”

“Excellent! Why Lady Eigaze?”

“She can identify the town in that painting, Sire, but she wants to tell you personally.”

Shandie raised his eyebrows. “Incredible! Yes, that may be very important now. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ylo. Come, then. My dear!” He headed for Eshiala.

She rose with Maya in her arms. When Shandie tried to take the girl, she turned away and clung to her mother. He scowled, then went over to the bed. He studied the corpse for a moment and said quietly, “Thank you, Grandfather.”

Ylo thought, May the Evil have his soul! All of it!

He hurried to open the door for the impress. He was fairly sure that little Maya would allow her friend Ylo to carry her, but it would not be very tactful at the moment to offer.

The Throne Room seemed eerily empty and haunted, a great darkness with a few puddles of light under the candelabra. The servants had gone. Five men and a woman were waiting by the cryptic Jalon painting, the only one not draped in crepe. As the newcomers approached, the men bowed to the new imperor. Lady Eigaze curtseyed.

Shandie eyed them solemnly.

“You all heard what Warlock Raspnex said?”

“I was told, Sire,” Ugoatho rumbled as all the others nodded. ”Then you know that he predicted disorder and trouble. We have no time for formalities. I ask each of you now to accept me as your imperor. I ask you all if you acknowledge me as if you had sworn the customary oath of loyalty. Anyone who has reservations may leave.”

The burning black gaze moved slowly around the group. Again the men bowed or saluted and Lady Eigaze curtseyed. No one spoke.

“Thank you,” Shandie said. “Thank you all. Now we must decide whether we should take Raspnex’s advice. My wife and child, obviously, must be moved to safety. I don’t think that is an option for myself at the moment, so soon after my accession. I am disinclined to run from an unknown danger, anyway.”

“Highn . . . Your Majesty?” Umpily was looking more upset than anyone. At Shandie’s inquiring glance he blurted out what he had told Ylo earlier: “I did see a vision in the pool, Sire! I saw a dwarf sitting on the . . . on your throne! Not the warlock. A man I have never met, but certainly a dwarf.” Fury flickered in Shandie’s eyes, but his voice came out very low., “Why didn’t you say so sooner?”

“I didn’t believe my eyes. Or the pool. I thought it must be malfunctioning!”

“You’re a fool!”

Umpily cringed and hung his head.

“The pool is beginning to seem very critical,” Shandie said. ”I wish I could test its reliability. Ylo, you were shown a beautiful woman. Does she exist? Have you met her yet?”

“I have seen her, Sire. She exists.” Ylo met the imperial stare without flinching. He did not look at anyone elseespecially not at Umpily, or . . . or the impress. Gods!

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