Дюна
Book Three: The Prophet
OnlytheeyesofthefightingmanaheadofhimwerevisibletoGurneybetweenhoodandveilofasand-coloredburnoose,butthecrouchandreadinesswarnedhimthatherewasatrainedfightingman.Theeyesweretheblue-in-blueofthedeep-desertFremen.
Gurneymovedonehandtowardhisownknife,kepthiseyesfixedontheother’sknife.Iftheydareduserockets,they’dhaveotherprojectileweapons.
Thismomentarguedextremecaution.Hecouldtellbysoundalonethatatleastpartofhisskycoverhadbeenknockedout.Thereweregruntings,too,thenoiseofseveralstrugglesbehindhim.
TheeyesofthefightingmanaheadofGurneyfollowedthemotionofhandtowardknive,camebacktoglareintoGurney’seyes.
“Leavetheknifeinitssheath,GurneyHalleck,”themansaid.
Gurneyhesitated.Thatvoicesoundedoddlyfamiliareventhroughastillsuitfilter.
“Youknowmyname?”hesaid.
“You’venoneedofaknifewithme,Gurney,”themansaid.Hestraightened,slippedhiscrysknifeintoitssheathbackbeneathhisrobe.“Tellyourmentostoptheiruselessresistance.”
Themanthrewhishoodback,swungthefilteraside.
TheshockofwhathesawfrozeGurney’smuscles.HethoughtatfirsthewaslookingataghostimageofDukeLetoAtreides.Fullrecognitioncameslowly.
“Paul,”hewhispered.Thenlouder:“IsittrulyPaul?”
“Don’tyoutrustyourowneyes?”Paulasked.
“Theysaidyouweredead,”Gurneyrasped.Hetookahalf-stepforward.
“Tellyourmentosubmit,”Paulcommanded.Hewavedtowardthelowerreachesoftheridge.
