Дюна
Book Two: Muad‘dib
Shethoughtthenhowpeacefulitwashereinthismomentoftheirtiredness,andsherecalledoncehearingtheminstrel-warriorGurneyHallecksay,“Betteradrymorselandquietnesstherewiththanahousefullofsacrificeandstrife.”
JessicarepeatedthewordstoPaul.
“ThatwasGurney,”hesaid.
Shecaughtthetoneofhisvoice,thewayhespokeasofsomeonedead,thought:AndwellpoorGurneymightbedead.TheAtreidesforceswereeitherdeadorcaptiveorlostlikethemselvesinthiswaterlessvoid.
“Gurneyalwayshadtherightquotation,”Paulsaid.“Icanhearhimnow:
‘AndIwillmaketheriversdry,andsellthelandintothehandofthewicked:andIwillmakethelandwaste,andallthatistherein,bythehandofstrangers.’”
Jessicaclosedhereyes,foundherselfmovedclosetotearsbythepathosinherson’svoice.
Presently,Paulsaid:“Howdoyou...feel?”
Sherecognizedthathisquestionwasdirectedatherpregnancy,said:“Yoursisterwon’tbebornformanymonthsyet.Istillfeel...physicallyadequate.”
Andshethought:HowstifflyformalIspeaktomyownson!Then,becauseitwastheBeneGesseritwaytoseekwithinfortheanswertosuchanoddity,shesearchedandfoundthesourceofherformality:I’mafraidofmyson;Ifearhisstrangeness;Ifearwhathemayseeaheadofus,whathemaytellme.
Paulpulledhishooddownoverhiseyes,listenedtothebug-hustlingsounds
ofthenight.Hislungswerechargedwithhisownsilence.Hisnoseitched.Herubbedit,removedthefilterandgrewconsciousoftherichsmellofcinnamon.
