Дюна
Book Two: Muad‘dib
Itcouldhappeninmylifetime!hethought.Emperor!Lethimwrongme!Then—thebribesandcoercion,therallyingoftheGreatHouses:they’dflocktomybannerlikepeasantsrunningforshelter.ThethingtheyfearaboveallelseistheEmperor’sSardaukarlooseduponthemoneHouseatatime.
“It’stheEmperor’ssincerehopehe’llneverhavetochargeyouwithtreason,”theCountsaid.
TheBaronfounditdifficulttokeepironyoutofhisvoiceandpermitonlytheexpressionofhurt,buthemanaged.“I’vebeenamostloyalsubject.Thesewordshurtmebeyondmycapacitytoexpress.”
“Um-m-m-m-ah-hm-m-m,”saidtheCount.
TheBaronkepthisbacktotheCount,nodding.Presentlyhesaid,“It’stimetogotothearena.”
“Indeed,”saidtheCount.
Theymovedoutoftheconeofsilenceand,sidebyside,walkedtowardtheclumpsofHousesMinorattheendofthehall.Abellbeganaslowtollingsomewhereinthekeep—twenty-minutewarningforthearenagathering.
“TheHousesMinorwaitforyoutoleadthem,”theCountsaid,noddingtowardthepeopletheyapproached.
Doublemeaning...doublemeaning,theBaronthought.
Helookedupatthenewtalismansflankingtheexittohishall—themountedbull’sheadandtheoilpaintingoftheOldDukeAtreides,thelateDukeLeto’sfather.TheyfilledtheBaronwithanoddsenseofforeboding,andhewonderedwhatthoughtsthesetalismanshadinspiredintheDukeLetoastheyhunginthehallsofCaladanandthenonArrakis—thebravurafatherandtheheadofthebullthathadkilledhim.
