"Dave Duncan - A Handful Of Men 1 - The Cutting Edge" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)

involving goblins, dwarves, djinns, and other inferior races, and those could be positively dangerous. The Praetorian Guard, however, spent its time
posturing around the Opal Palace in Hub. Few things were as effective with girls as a Praetorian uniform.


So the decision had been easy. A five-year stint in the Guard, followed by a little traditional impish nepotism, would guarantee him a profitable
posting as lictor in some congenial city not too far away from the capital. Thereafter, he would see.


Ten days after being confined to quarters, Recruit Ylo was summoned to the guardroom. Any lingering hopes died when he saw that the man behind
the table was Centurion Hithi. The Yllipos and the Hathinos had been mortal enemies for more generations than Ylo had teeth.


Like all of the Praetorian barracks, the guardroom was lofty and ancient. The mosaic floor illustrated dramatic scenes of legionaries battling
dragons, but there was one spot where thousands of military sandals had worn the colors right away, and that bare white patch was directly before
the officer's table. Ylo marched forward, placed his feet on the marker, and saluted. He was surprised-and very gratified-to realize that his knees
were not knocking, or his teeth chattering. True, his palms were sweaty and there was an unpleasant tightness in his lower abdomen, but those
effects did not show. He waited to hear his fate with proper military impassivity.


In the Guard, even centurions were gentlemen. Hithi seemed genuinely regretful as he explained how a reassessment had revealed that Ylo fell just
short of the Guard's height requirement.




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 The Cutting Edge

He laid down one paper and lifted another. "Seems there is an opening in the XXth. A transfer might be arranged."


It could be worse, much worse. Blisters and calluses were better than thumbscrews and the rack. A barracks was better than an unmarked grave. The
XXth Legion was not one of the scum outfits-and no alternative was being offered.


Ylo said, "Thank you, sir!"


"There's a tesserary from the XXth here at the moment, as it happens. He and his men could escort you."


"Sir!" Ylo said.


The centurion smiled.


The smile very nearly broke Ylo's self-control. He wanted to weep, for it was a brutal reminder that there was no one to appeal to; the feud between
the Hathinos and the Yllipos was now over.