The warrior's apprentice Read Online Free PDF Page B

is a lot of work to be done there. Now, with a bit of legal training—”
    “A lawyer?” Miles said, aghast. “You want me to be a lawyer? That’s as bad as being a tailor—”
    “Beg pardon?” asked Lord Vorkosigan, missing the connection.
    “Never mind. Something Grandfather said.”
    “Actually, I hadn’t planned to mention the idea to your grandfather.” Lord Vorkosigan cleared his throat. “But given some ground in government principles, I thought you might, ah, deputize for your grandfather in the district. Government was never all warfare, even in the Time of Isolation, you know.”
    Sounds like you’ve been thinking about it for a while, Miles thought resentfully. Did you ever really believe I could make the grade, Father? He looked at Lord Vorkosigan more doubtfully. “There’s not anything you’re not telling me, is there, sir? About your—health, or anything?”
    “Oh, no,” Lord Vorkosigan reassured him. “Although in my line of work, you never know from one day to the next.”
    I wonder, thought Miles warily, what else is going on between Gregor and my father? I have a queasy feeling I’m getting about ten percent of the real story...
    Lord Vorkosigan blew out his breath, and smiled. “Well. I’m keeping you from your rest, which you need at this point.” He rose.
    “I wasn’t sleepy, sir.”
    “Do you want me to get you anything to help... ?” Lord Vorkosigan offered, cautiously tender.
    “No, I have some painkillers they gave me at the infirmary. Two of those and I’ll be swimming in slow motion.” Miles made flippers of his hands, and rolled his eyes back.
    Lord Vorkosigan nodded, and withdrew.
    Miles lay back and tried to recapture Elena in his mind. But the cold breath of political reality blown in with his father withered his fantasies, like frost out of season. He swung to his feet and shuffled to his bathroom for a dose of his slow-motion medicine.
    Two down, and a swallow of water. All of them, whispered something from the back of his brain, and you could come to a complete stop... He banged the nearlyfull container back onto the shelf.
    His eyes gave back a muted spark from the bathroom mirror. “Grandfather is right. The only way to go down is fighting.”
    He returned to bed, to re-live his moment of error on the wall in an endless loop until sleep relieved him of himself.

 
     
    CHAPTER THREE
     
    *        *        *
     
     
    Miles was awakened in a dim grey light by a servant apprehensively touching his shoulder.
    “Lord Vorkosigan? Lord Vorkosigan?” the man murmured.
    Miles peered through slitted eyes, feeling thick with sleep, as though moving under water. What hour—and why was the idiot miscalling him by his father’s title? New, was he? No...
    Cold consciousness washed over him, and his stomach knotted, as the full significance of the man’s words penetrated. He sat up, head swimming, heart sinking. “What?”
    “The—y—your father requests you dress and join him downstairs immediately.” The man’s tumbling tongue confirmed his fear.
    It was the hour before dawn. Yellow lamps made small warm pools within the library as Miles entered. The windows were blue-grey cold translucent rectangles, balanced on the cusp of night, neither transmitting light from without nor reflecting it from within. His father stood, half-dressed in uniform trousers, shirt, and slippers, talking in a grave undertone with two men. Their personal physician, and an aide in the uniform of the Imperial Residence. His father—Count Vorkosigan? —looked up to meet his eyes.
    “Grandfather, sir?” asked Miles softly.
    The new Count nodded. “Very quietly, in his sleep, about two hours ago. He felt no pain, I think.” His father’s voice was low and clear, without tremor, but his face seemed more lined than usual, almost furrowed. Set, expressionless; the determined commander. Situation under control. Only his eyes, and only now and then, through a passing trick of