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"The Emperor's not likely to have that power over me," Paul said. He spoke slowly, coldly. Something had happened inside him while he faced the Sardaukar. A sum of decisions had accumulated in his awareness. "Gurney," he said, "are there many Guildsmen around Rabban?"
Gurney straightened, eyes narrowed. "Your question makes no ...."
"Are there?" Paul barked.
"Arrakis is crawling with Guild agents. They're buying spice as though it were the most precious thing in the universe. Why else do you think we ventured this far into ...."
"It is the most precious thing in the universe," Paul said. "To them."
He looked toward Stilgar and Chani who were now crossing the chamber toward him. "And we control it, Gurney."
"The Harkonnens control it!" Gurney protested.
"The people who can destroy a thing, they control it," Paul said. He waved a hand to silence further remarks from Gurney, nodded to Stilgar who stopped in front of Paul, Chani beside him.
Paul took the Sardaukar knife in his left hand, presented it to Stilgar. "You live for the good of the tribe," Paul said. "Could you draw my life's blood with that knife?"
"For the good of the tribe," Stilgar growled.
"Then use that knife," Paul said.
"Are you calling me out?" Stilgar demanded.
"If I do," Paul said, "I shall stand there without weapon and let you slay me."
Stilgar drew in a quick, sharp breath.
Chani said, "Usul!" then glanced at Gurney, back to Paul.
While Stilgar was still weighing his words, Paul said: "You are Stilgar, a fighting man. When the Sardaukar began fighting here, you were not in the front of battle. Your first thought was to protect Chani."
"She's my niece," Stilgar said. "If there'd been any doubt of your Fedaykin handling those scum ...."
"Why was your first thought of Chani?" Paul demanded.
"It wasn't!"
"Oh?"
"It was of you," Stilgar admitted.
"Do you think you could lift your hand against me?" Paul asked.
Stilgar began to tremble. "It's the way," he muttered.
"It's the way to kill offworld strangers found in the desert and take their water as a gift from Shai-hulud," Paul said. "Yet you permitted two such to live one night, my mother and myself."
As Stilgar remained silent, trembling, staring at him, Paul said: "Ways change, Stil. You have changed them yourself."
Stilgar looked down at the yellow emblem on the knife he held.
"When I am Duke in Arrakeen with Chani by my side, do you think I'll have time to concern myself with every detail of governing Tabr sietch?" Paul asked. "Do you concern yourself with the internal problems of every family?"
Stilgar continued staring at the knife.
"Do you think I wish to cut off my right arm?" Paul demanded.
Slowly, Stilgar looked up at him.
"You!" Paul said. "Do you think I wish to deprive myself or the tribe of your wisdom and strength?"
In a low voice, Stilgar said: "The young man of my tribe whose name is known to me, this young man I could kill on the challenge floor, Shai-hulud willing. The Lisan al-Gaib, him I could not harm. You knew this when you handed me this knife."
"I knew it," Paul agreed.
Stilgar opened his hand. The knife clattered against the stone of the floor. "Ways change," he said.
"Chani," Paul said, "go to my mother, send her here that her counsel will be available in--"
"But you said we would go to the south!" she protested.
"I was wrong," he said. "The Harkonnens are not there. The war is not there."
She took a deep breath, accepting this as a desert woman accepted all necessities in the midst of a life involved with death.
"You will give my mother a message for her ears alone," Paul said. "Tell her that Stilgar acknowledges me Duke of Arrakis, but a way must be found to make the young men accept this without combat."
Chani glanced at Stilgar.
"Do as he says," Stilgar growled. "We both know he could overcome me ... and I could not raise my hand against him ... for the good of the tribe."
"I shall return with your mother," Chani said.
"Send her," Paul said. "Stilgar's instinct was right. I am stronger when you are safe. You will remain in the sietch."
She started to protest, swallowed it.
"Sihaya," Paul said, using his intimate name for her. He whirled away to the right, met Gurney's glaring eyes.
The interchange between Paul and the older Fremen had passed as though in a cloud around Gurney since Paul's reference to his mother.
"Your mother," Gurney said.
"Idaho saved us the night of the raid," Paul said, distracted by the parting with Chani. "Right now we've--"
"What of Duncan Idaho, m'Lord?" Gurney asked.
"He's dead--buying us a bit of time to escape."
The she-witch alive! Gurney thought. The one I swore vengeance against, alive! And it's obvious Duke Paul doesn't know what manner of creature gave him birth. The evil one! Betrayed his own father to the Harkonnens!
Paul pressed past him, jumped up to the ledge. He glanced back, noted that the wounded and dead had been removed, and he thought bitterly that here was another chapter in the legend of Paul Muad'Dib. I didn't even draw my knife, but it'll be said of this day that I slew twenty Sardaukar by my own hand.
Gurney followed with Stilgar, stepping on ground that he did not even feel. The cavern with its yellow light of glowglobes was forced out of his thoughts by rage. The she-witch alive while those she betrayed are bones in lonesome graves. I must contrive it that Paul learns the truth about her before I slay her.
How often it is that the angry man rages denial of what his inner self is telling him.
--"The Collected Sayings of Muad'Dib" by the Princess Irulan
THE CROWD in the cavern assembly chamber radiated that pack feeling Jessica had sensed the day Paul killed Jamis. There was murmuring nervousness in the voices. Little cliques gathered like knots among the robes.
Jessica tucked a message cylinder beneath her robe as she emerged to the ledge from Paul's private quarters. She felt rested after the long journey up from the south, but still rankled that Paul would not yet permit them to use the captured ornithopters.
"We do not have full control of the air," he h
ad said. "And we must not become dependent upon offworld fuel. Both fuel and aircraft must be gathered and saved for the day of maximum effort."
Paul stood with a group of the younger men near the ledge. The pale light of glowglobes gave the scene a tinge of unreality. It was like a tableau, but with the added dimension of warren smells, the whispers, the sounds of shuffling feet.
She studied her son, wondering why he had not yet trotted out his surprise--Gurney Halleck. The thought of Gurney disturbed her with its memories of an easier past--days of love and beauty with Paul's father.
Stilgar waited with a small group of his own at the other end of the ledge. There was a feeling of inevitable dignity about him, the way he stood without talking.
We must not lose that man, Jessica thought. Paul's plan must work. Anything else would be the highest tragedy.
She strode down the ledge, passing Stilgar without a glance, stepped down into the crowd. A way was made for her as she headed toward Paul. And silence followed her.
She knew the meaning of the silence--the unspoken questions of the people, awe of the Reverend Mother.
The young men drew back from Paul as she came up to him, and she found herself momentarily dismayed by the new deference they paid him. "All men beneath your position covet your station," went the Bene Gesserit axiom. But she found no covetousness in these faces. They were held at a distance by the religious ferment around Paul's leadership. And she recalled another Bene Gesserit saying: "Prophets have a way of dying by violence. "
Paul looked at her.
"It's time," she said, and passed the message cylinder to him.
One of Paul's companions, bolder than the others, glanced across at Stilgar, said: "Are you going to call him out, Maud'Dib? Now's the time for sure. They'll think you a coward if you--"
"Who dares call me coward?" Paul demanded. His hand flashed to his crysknife hilt.
Bated silence came over the group, spreading out into the crowd.
"There's work to do," Paul said as the man drew back from him. Paul turned away, shouldered through the crowd to the ledge, leaped lightly up to it and faced the people.
"Do it!" someone shrieked.
Murmurs and whispers arose behind the shriek.
Paul waited for silence. It came slowly amidst scattered shufflings and coughs. When it was quiet in the cavern, Paul lifted his chin, spoke in a voice that carried to the farthest corners.
