Bones of Empire Read Free Page A

her affection for him as her lips gave under his, knew he should free her, and wondered why he hadn’t. Corin, he thought to himself, I’ll do it on Corin. Then, helmet in the crook of his arm, it was time to leave.
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    The two-bedroom suite was the finest accommodation the Far Star had to offer. The servants had withdrawn by that time, leaving their master to inspect himself in the large bathroom mirror. Legate Isulu Usurlus was vain, he knew that, and felt no guilt regarding the matter. The man who looked back at him had carefully tousled blond hair, gray eyes, and an aquiline nose. Tiny lines had begun to marshal their forces around the corners of his eyes, however, and stood ready to bracket his mouth. He saw them as enemies that, having been allowed to establish a beachhead while he was on Dantha, would have to be defeated on Corin. A process he looked forward to after months of privation on a backwater planet.
    Usurlus was dressed in a white toga, a pleated kilt, and a pair of gold-colored sandals. The only signs of his rank were the silver and gold bracelets on his left wrist, the family crest on the pin that held the toga in place, and the way he carried himself. Which was to say with the confidence of a man who was completely sure of his place in Imperial society.
    Having satisfied himself that he was presentable, Usurlus left the suite and stepped out into the corridor, where his chief bodyguard was waiting for him. Dom Livius was a big man with a prominent brow, a fist-flattened nose, and a pugnacious jaw. Like his predecessor, who had been murdered on Dantha, he was an ex-legionnaire and a dangerous man. Usurlus smiled at him. “Livius! What are you doing here? We’re on a spaceship. Take the evening off.”
    â€œThank you, sire,” Livius responded doggedly, “but if it’s all the same to you, I’ll come along. It’s true that we’re on a ship, but so are two thousand other people, and I have no reason to trust them.”
    â€œAll right,” Usurlus conceded, as the two men made their way down the corridor. “Suit yourself. . . . But the main danger will come from Rufus Glabas, who claims to support Emperor Emor while secretly consorting with the Hacia combine. Then there’s Porica Lakaris, who hopes I will marry her brainless daughter, and Catullus Skallos. A man who, if my information is correct, has feelers out to the Vords in case the despicable creatures conquer the Empire. Fortunately, none of them are likely to attack me with anything more pointed than words.”
    â€œIf you say so, sire,” Livius responded cynically. “But I’ll be there just in case.”
    â€œAs will Centurion Cato,” Usurlus observed. “Assuming Alamy has been able to round the rascal up and make him presentable. Between the two of you, I will feel quite safe.”
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    The Galaxy Room was a rectangular space, which—thanks to the sensaround built into the bulkheads—appeared to be floating in space. That was an illusion, of course, since it was impossible to see anything from the vantage point of a ship traveling through hyperspace, but it was effective nevertheless. So much so that Cato experienced a brief moment of vertigo as he entered the room and made his way back to the point where a bar had been set up with a spectacular nebula in the background. It looked like an exploding star shell—and glittered with reflected light.
    Fifteen or twenty other people were present, all dressed in their evening finery, and of higher status than a mere Centurion. But, thanks to the respect routinely extended to soldiers, the other guests were polite, if somewhat distant. And that was fine with Cato, who planned to maintain a low profile throughout the meal and make a quick escape the moment it was over.
    Fortunately, a retired Praefectus Castrorum and his wife were present, and like most staff officers, the Prefect was ready to hold