Дюна
Book Three: The Prophet
Themanhadhoodthrownbackandfasteningsofhisstillsuithanginglooseabouthisneck,proofthathehadcomejustnowfromtheopendesert.
Paulmotionedforhimtostop,leftthehangingsofthedoorandmoveddownthepassagetothecourier.
Themanbowed,handsclaspedinfrontofhimthewayhemightgreetaReverendMotherorSayyadinaoftherites.Hesaid:“Muad’Dib,leadersarebeginningtoarrivefortheCouncil.”
“Sosoon?”
“ThesearetheonesStilgarsentforearlierwhenitwasthought....”Heshrugged.
“Isee.”Paulglancedbacktowardthefaintsoundofthebaliset,thinkingoftheoldsongthathismotherfavored—anoddstretchingofhappytuneandsadwords.“Stilgarwillcomeheresoonwithothers.Showthemwheremymotherwaits.”
“Iwillwaithere,Muad’Dib,”thecouriersaid.
“Yes...yes,dothat.”
Paulpressedpastthemantowardthedepthsofthecavern,headedfortheplacethateachsuchcavernhad—aplacenearitswater-holdingbasin.Therewouldbeasmallshai-huludinthisplace,acreaturenomorethanninemeterslong,keptstuntedandtrappedbysurroundingwaterditches.Themaker,afteremergingfromitslittlemakervector,avoidedwaterforthepoisonitwas.AndthedrowningofamakerwasthegreatestFremensecretbecauseitproducedthesubstanceoftheirunion—theWaterofLife,thepoisonthatcouldonlybechangedbyaReverendMother.
ThedecisionhadcometoPaulwhilehefacedthetensionofdangertohismother.NolineofthefuturehehadeverseencarriedthatmomentofperilfromGurneyHalleck.
