Дюна
Book Two: Muad‘dib
Hawk!
Feyd-Rauthalookedupintothedarklypittedeyes,sawthemglaringathimwithuncommonalertness.
It’soneofDukeLeto’sfightingmenwetookonArrakis!Feyd-Rauthathought.Nosimplegladiatorthis!Achillranthroughhim,andhewonderedifHawathadanotherplanforthisarena—afeintwithinafeintwithinafeint.Andonlytheslavemasterpreparedtotaketheblame!
Feyd-Rautha’schiefhandlerspokeathisear:“Ilikenotthelookonthatone,m’Lord.Letmesetabarbortwoinhisknifearmtotryhim.”
“I’llsetmyownbarbs,”Feyd-Rauthasaid.Hetookapairofthelong,hookedshaftsfromthehandler,heftedthem,testingthebalance.Thesebarbs,too,weresupposedtobedrugged—butnotthistime,andthechiefhandlermightdiebecauseofthat.Butitwasallpartoftheplan.
“You’llcomeoutofthisahero,”Hawathadsaid.“Killedyourgladiatormantomanandinspiteoftreachery.Theslavemasterwillbeexecutedandyourmanwillstepintohisspot.”
Feyd-Rauthaadvancedanotherfivepacesintothearena,playingoutthemoment,studyingtheslave.Already,heknew,theexpertsinthestandsabovehimwereawarethatsomethingwaswrong.Thegladiatorhadthecorrectskincolorforadruggedman,buthestoodhisgroundanddidnottremble.Theaficionadoswouldbewhisperingamongthemselvesnow:“Seehowhestands.
Heshouldbeagitated—attackingorretreating.Seehowheconserveshisstrength,howhewaits.Heshouldnotwait.”
Feyd-Rauthafelthisownexcitementkindle.LettherebetreacheryinHawat’smind,hethought.
