Дюна
Book One: Dune
Besideeachplateonthelongtablestoodaflagonofwater.Therewasenoughwateralongthetable,theDukeestimated,tokeepapoorArrakeenfamilyformorethanayear.
Flankingthedoorwayinwhichhestoodwerebroadlavingbasinsofornateyellowandgreentile.Eachbasinhaditsrackoftowels.Itwasthecustom,thehousekeeperhadexplained,forguestsastheyenteredtodiptheirhandsceremoniouslyintoabasin,slopseveralcupsofwaterontothefloor,drytheirhandsonatowelandflingthetowelintothegrowingpuddleatthedoor.Afterthedinner,beggarsgatheredoutsidetogetthewatersqueezingsfromthetowels.
HowtypicalofaHarkonnenfief,theDukethought.Everydegradationofthespiritthatcanbeconceived.Hetookadeepbreath,feelingragetightenhisstomach.
“Thecustomstopshere!”hemuttered.
Hesawaservingwoman—oneoftheoldandgnarledonesthehousekeeperhadrecommended—hoveringatthedoorwayfromthekitchenacrossfromhim.
TheDukesignaledwithupraisedhand.Shemovedoutoftheshadows,scurriedaroundthetabletowardhim,andhenotedtheleatheryface,theblue-within-blueeyes.
“MyLordwishes?”Shekeptherheadbowed,eyesshielded.
Hegestured.“Havethesebasinsandtowelsremoved.”
“But...NobleBorn....”Shelookedup,mouthgaping.
“Iknowthecustom!”hebarked.“Takethesebasinstothefrontdoor.Whilewe’reeatinganduntilwe’vefinished,eachbeggarwhocallsmayhaveafullcupofwater.Understood?”
Herleatheryfacedisplayedatwistingofemotions:dismay,anger....
