Part 6 (2/2)

”In a word... no.” Bludd straightened his jacket, plucked at his black ruffles. ”En garde, if you insist.”

Elias lunged with the crysknife, to shouts and catcalls from his comrades. Though Bludd was dressed in fine clothes, the well-fitting garments gave him perfect ease of movement. He melted away from the man's vicious thrust. Then in a flash, he circled around and p.r.i.c.ked the Fremen's shoulder.

”There, first blood is mine. Do you yield?”

The Fremen spectators chuckled. ”Bad Bludd brags more than he fights! Bad Bludd!”

”My, what a feeble play on words.” His voice dripped sarcasm.

The angry Fremen fighter slashed and lunged again with surprising speed. Elias tossed the knife to his other hand and struck. Ah, so he could fight with either hand, a useful skill! Bludd parried, scissored his blade in the air, twirled, and p.r.i.c.ked the man's other shoulder. ”You are fortunate that I have decided to restrain myself.”

Bludd toyed with him for several more minutes, showing off, making sweeping, grandiose moves of the type he had taught his students never to risk using. Showmans.h.i.+p was one thing, but victory was paramount. It did no good to have fine form if your opponent lopped off your head.

But this opponent did not seem to weaken or tire and continued with a relentless, though pedestrian, style of fighting. When Bludd realized he was starting to grow tired himself, he decided to put an end to the silly dance. He had heard how easily Fremen pride could be wounded, and did not want this man to hold a simmering blood vendetta against him. He had to give him a way to save face.

Driving forward with a flurry of intricate sword work, Bludd flailed his flexible blade so that it dizzied Elias. Then Bludd intentionally stepped in too close. He had observed the man's style and knew how he would react. When he gave the Fremen an opportunity, just a hint of one, the crysknife flashed and cut a shallow gouge in the meat of Bludd's upper left arm. There, now the man could be satisfied that he too had drawn blood. Elias responded with a feral grin.

”That's enough, then.” Bludd drove the flat of his blade down hard on the back of the Fremen's knife hand, forcing the fingers to release the handle. The wormtooth dagger dropped to the floor of the barracks.

One of the other Fremen soldiers stepped forward and kicked the crysknife beyond Elias's reach. ”He beat you fairly, Elias, but you drew blood as well.”

The Fremen looked bewildered and still angry. Another soldier added in a low voice, ”Muad'Dib has commanded us to have no tribal rivalries.”

”This peac.o.c.k is of no Fremen tribe,” Elias said.

”Muad'Dib wants his soldiers to fight the enemy, not each other.”

”And fine advice that is.” Bludd sheathed his rapier, picked up one of the unopened bottles of wine, and took it with him as he left the barracks. ”Next time, perhaps I will just bring spice beer.”

Never turn your back on a Tleilaxu.

-ancient saying

Lady Margot Fenring rode beside her young daughter in the rear compartment of a groundcar as it negotiated the winding streets of Thalidei. Lady Margot had ordered the driver to take them to one of the dockside public markets. She rarely went anywhere without her husband, but little Marie needed time away from her ever-watchful Bene Gesserit nanny and tutor. Though Margot could easily have defeated scores of Tleilaxu men, she was forbidden to travel without an escort, for her own ”safety.”

Little Marie sat high on a thick cus.h.i.+on designed for a Tleilaxu Master. She drank in the details outside, her wide eyes filled with curious questions, but the girl was already wise enough to look for her own answers. The Fenrings had developed plans for the unique girl, determined to see to it that Marie was equipped with a breadth of experiences and abilities. She had to be prepared and armed for her destiny.

The worker-caste Tleilaxu driver a.s.signed to them expertly avoided hitting diminutive Masters who haughtily walked out into the street without looking. Clearly uncomfortable around females, the driver did not speak to his pa.s.sengers; he may even have received instructions to ignore them. Unlike all other vehicles around the city, the one in which Margot and her daughter rode had dark-tinted windows, as if the Tleilaxu did not want a female to be seen out in the open.

When traveling with her husband, Margot was treated quite differently, accepted grudgingly if not welcomed. When she went out without him, though, the Tleilaxu seemed offended offended by her flagrant actions. She didn't care this time. Let them be offended. She'd lost count of the pinp.r.i.c.ks of displeasure her reluctant hosts had inflicted on her. Margot had grown to loathe the bigoted high-caste men, but as an adept Bene Gesserit, she'd also learned to hide her true feelings. by her flagrant actions. She didn't care this time. Let them be offended. She'd lost count of the pinp.r.i.c.ks of displeasure her reluctant hosts had inflicted on her. Margot had grown to loathe the bigoted high-caste men, but as an adept Bene Gesserit, she'd also learned to hide her true feelings.

The young towhead smiled up at her, then gazed out the low tinted window on her left, oblivious to her mother's concerns. Like Margot, she wore a long black dress, but she had pale blue eyes instead of gray-green. Feyd's color, Feyd's color, Margot remembered, though Margot remembered, though her eyes are not so sullen as his. her eyes are not so sullen as his.

The Harkonnen na-Baron had been an adequate lover, though not as skilled as he should have been, considering his repertoire of pleasure women. In light of later events, it was clear that Feyd was also not as skilled a fighter as he believed himself to be. Nevertheless, Margot had collected his seed and allowed herself to conceive a daughter as the Sisterhood had instructed her to do. Such perfect genetics from generations of Bene Gesserit coaxing human genetic stock. Yes, little Marie was indeed special.

During the year that the Fenrings had spent on Tleilax, Lady Margot had remained in touch with the Sisterhood, exchanging clandestine messages by letter or embedded in objects that were transported by courier between here and Wallach IX. She had no doubt that the nanny Obregah-Xo also sent secret reports.

Despite the Mother Superior's personal interest in this daughter of Feyd-Rautha, Margot had plans of her own. She did not intend to let the girl become a mere p.a.w.n of the Bene Gesserit. Since the arrival of Muad'Dib - a Kwisatz Haderach that the Sisterhood could not control - and his Abomination sister Alia, Margot Fenring had begun to lose faith in the overly complex and insufficiently successful schemes of the Bene Gesserit.

She and Hasimir had too many other ideas.

Lady Margot smiled at her daughter. The child had a bright and inquisitive mind, and learned quickly. Thanks to her mother's teachings, as well as those of Count Fenring and Obregah-Xo, the girl had already mastered Bene Gesserit skills that were far beyond her years.

The vehicle drove past a bustling marketplace of tents and shacks that extended out onto the docks, with vendors selling foods and personal articles. ”Driver, stop. We would like to explore the market.”

”It is forbidden,” the driver gruffly answered, which only served to make Lady Margot more determined.

”Nevertheless, we will get out here and walk.”

”I am only authorized to drive you around the city.”

Margot had had enough of Tleilaxu secrets and restrictions. She spoke with the full force of Voice. ”You will stop the vehicle and do as I command.”

The driver jerked involuntarily, then pulled the groundcar over to the nearest cl.u.s.tered market stalls.

”You will wait for us here as we observe the vendors and their wares.”

Although the driver sat shuddering and almost immobile, he fumbled with a small compartment beside his seat. Sweating with the effort, yet persistent, he produced a tiny black ball, which he squeezed in his palm. It seemed to sprout into two black scarves, one large and one small. ”You must cover yourselves. Each of you. Dress as man and boy.”

Amazed that the driver had the strength for such independent thought while under the influence of Voice, Margot took the scarves and quickly wrapped one around her head in a fas.h.i.+on she had seen some of the middle-caste males wear. Without hesitation, Marie secured a scarf over her own face and tied it behind her neck. ”I like dress up.”

Margot and her daughter climbed out of the groundcar. Numerous byways extended away from the main pedestrian thoroughfares, and Margot wandered one way and another, mentally keeping track of where they were. Even with the head wrap, she knew that her height, offworld clothing, and complexion would make her stand out. Little Marie didn't seem to notice the men who stared at them.

Although the noisy market had been bustling before they entered, full of exotic smells of cooking food, spiced slig, and pickled vat-vegetables, Lady Margot noticed that she and Marie moved in a pocket of silence. Vendors and customers grew quiet when they saw the pair.

One of Lady Margot's pastimes since coming to this planet was studying the variety of exotic Tleilaxu poisons. In addition to their biological expertise, the Bene Tleilax excelled in tailoring toxic chemicals that could kill or paralyze in numerous ways. The market was a veritable buffet of these useful substances. Some of them were effective contact paralytics, while others required unique delivery techniques, since standard poison snoopers could detect deadly substances in food or drink. In displays arrayed before her, Margot admired glittering gems that were chemically impregnated with neurotoxins, to be released under specific circ.u.mstances. She saw innocuous-looking fabrics whose fibers - upon being stretched or heated - would s.h.i.+ft their long-chain-polymer structures into lethal poison molecules. Yes, the Tleilaxu had interesting toys.

Stopping at a counter, the little girl studied an array of dolls that were on display. All of the figurines were male, but they represented a variety of human species wearing traditional costumes of different worlds. Marie pointed out one that looked like a youthful Paul Atreides, an idealized version of Muad'Dib as a boy. ”I want that one,” she said.

The clerk scowled but quoted a low price, apparently anxious to move them along as quickly as possible. After a few Solaris exchanged hands, Lady Margot handed the doll to her daughter, but the child promptly gave it back.

”This is my gift to you, Mother,” she said. ”I don't play with dolls.”

Margot took the doll with a smile and nudged her daughter around. ”We should get back to the driver.” She had pressed the issue, and likely the Tleilaxu officials had already sent a scolding message to Count Fenring. She led the way back to the vehicle with an unerring sense of direction. The driver had waited for them, perspiring uneasily.

All the way home in the groundcar, little Marie was bursting with excitement and couldn't wait to describe to her father what they had done. To Lady Margot, that made the expedition worthwhile.

Under the right conditions, even the smallest ripple can create a mighty wave.

-Zensunni maxim

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