[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
you fed this young man?"
"They gave me plenty, sir. Thank you. And I also had a good night's sleep in
your comfortable courtyard."
"In the courtyard?" Another scowl at the guard. "So why are you here, young
man? Did you come from one of the fishing villages?"
"No, m'Lord -- I am from Giedi Prime."
The guards tensed hands around their weapons. The Old Duke and his son flashed
a glance at each other, disbelief at first. "Then you'd better tell us what's
happened to you," Paulus said. Their expressions changed to grim disgust as
Duncan told his story, omitting no detail.
The Duke's eyes widened. He saw the guileless expression on this young man's
face and looked at his son, thinking that this was no made-up tale. Leto
nodded. No boy of nine years could have concocted such a story, however much he
might have been coached.
"And so I came here, sir," Duncan said, "to see you."
"You landed in which city on Caladan?" the Duke asked again. "Describe it for
us."
Duncan couldn't remember its name but recounted what he had seen, and the Old
Duke agreed that he must have indeed made his way from across the world.
"I was told to come to you, m'Lord, and ask if you might have something for me
to do. I hate the Harkonnens, sir, and I'd willingly pledge my loyalty forever
to House Atreides if only I can stay here."
"I think I believe him, Father," Leto said quietly, studying the boy's deep-set
blue-green eyes. "Or is this a lesson you're trying to teach me?"
Paulus sat back, hands folded on his lap, and his chest wrenched with spasms.
After a moment Duncan realized that the big man was holding in great rumbles of
laughter. When the Old Duke could no longer restrain himself, he burst out with
a deep chuckle and slapped his knees. "Boy, I admire what you've done. Any
young man with balls as big as yours is a man I must have as part of my
household!"
"Thank you, sir," Duncan said.
"I'm sure we can find some urgent work for him to do, Father," Leto said with a
tired smile. He found this brave and persistent boy to be a hopeful change from
everything he had seen recently.
The Old Duke rose from the comfort of his chair and bellowed for retainers,
insisting that they supply the boy with clothes and a bath and more food. "On
second thought" -- he held up a hand -- "bring an entire banquet table. My son
and I wish to share lunch with young Master Idaho."
They entered an adjacent dining room, where workers scurried and clattered
about, setting up everything their Duke had commanded. One servant brushed flat
the boy's dark and curly hair, and ran a static cleaner over his dusty clothes.
At the head of the table, with Duncan seated on his right and gray-eyed Leto on
the left, Paulus Atreides sank his chin into a large fist.
"I've got an idea, boy. Since you proved you could handle those monstrous
Harkonnens, do you think a mere Salusan bull is beyond your capabilities?"
"No, sir," Duncan said. He had heard about the Duke's grand spectacles. "If
you want me to fight them for you, I'll be happy to do it."
"Fight them?" Paulus laughed. "That isn't exactly what I have in mind." The
Duke sat back with a huge grin, looking over at Leto.
Leto said, "I think we've discovered a position for you here at Castle Caladan,
young man. You can work in the stables, under the guidance of Stablemaster
Yresk. You'll help tend my father's bulls: feed them and, if you can get close
enough, groom them, too. I've done it myself. I'll introduce you to the
stablemaster." He looked over at his father. "Remember, Yresk used to let me
pet the bulls when I was Duncan's age?"
"Oh, this boy will do a lot more than pet the beasts," the Old Duke said.
Paulus cocked a gray eyebrow as platters and platters of magnificent food were
brought to the table. He noted the enchanted look on Duncan's face. "And if
you do a good enough job in the stables," he added, "maybe we can find some more
glamorous tasks for you."
History has seldom been good to those who must be punished. Bene Gesserit
punishments cannot be forgotten.
-Bene Gesserit Dictum
A new Bene Gesserit delegation bearing Gaius Helen Mohiam arrived on Giedi
Prime. Freshly delivered of her sickly Harkonnen daughter, Mohiam found herself
in the Baron's Keep for the second time in the space of a year.
She arrived in daylight this time, though the greasy cloud cover and pillars of
smoke from unfiltered factories gave the sky a bruised appearance that strangled
any hint of sunshine.
The Reverend Mother's shuttle touched down at the same spaceport as before, with
the same demand for "special services." But this time Baron Harkonnen had
secretly vowed to do things differently.
Stepping in perfect rhythm, a stony-faced regiment of the Baron's household
troops marched up to surround the Bene Gesserit shuttle -- more than sufficient
to intimidate the witches.
The Burseg Kryubi, formerly a pilot on Arrakis and now head of Harkonnen house
security, stood in front of the shuttle-debarkation ramp, two steps ahead of his
nearest troops. All were dressed in formal blue.
Mohiam appeared at the top of the ramp, engulfed in her Bene Gesserit robes and
flanked by acolyte retainers, personal guards, and other Sisters. She frowned
with disdain at the Burseg and his men. "What is the meaning of this reception?
Where is the Baron?"
Burseg Kryubi looked up at her. "Do not attempt your manipulative Voice on me
or there will be a . . . dangerous . . . reaction from the troops. My orders
state that you alone are allowed to see the Baron. No guards, no retainers, no
companions. He awaits you in the formal hall of the Keep." He nodded toward
the attendants behind her in the shuttle. "None of these others may enter."
"Unthinkable," Mohiam said. "I request formal diplomatic courtesy. All of my
party must be received with the respect they are due."
Kryubi did not flinch. "I know what the witch wants," the Baron had said. "And
if she thinks she can show up here to rut with me on a regular basis, she's
sadly mistaken!" -- whatever that meant.
The Burseg stared her down, eye to eye. "Your request is denied." He was far
more frightened of the Baron's punishments than of anything this woman could do
to him. "You are free to leave if this does not meet with your approval."
With a snort, Mohiam started down the ramp, flashing a glance at those who
remained in the ship. "For all his perversions, the Baron Vladimir Harkonnen is
somewhat prudish," she said mockingly, more for the benefit of the Harkonnen
troops than for her own people. "Especially when it comes to matters of
sexuality."
Kryubi, who had not been apprised of the situation, was intrigued by this
reference. But he decided that certain things were best left unknown.
"Tell me, Burseg," the witch said to him in an irritating tone, "how would you
even know if I was using Voice on you?"
"A soldier never reveals his full arsenal of defenses."
"I see." Her tone was soothing, sensual. Kryubi didn't feel threatened by it,
but wondered if his bluff had worked.
Unknown to this foolish soldier, Mohiam was a Truthsayer capable of recognizing
nuances of falsehood and deception. She allowed the pompous Burseg to lead her
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]