Part 40 (1/2)

But that way was a dead end.

In his heart, he would much rather have lived in peace with Chani. Given different choices, he could have been like Duke Leto Atreides, beloved by all, fair to all, wise and honored for who he truly was. Instead, obeying no one but himself and the guidance of his prescience, he had sacrificed his personal happiness and the present to save the future. Thus Paul became not what he wanted to be, but what he needed needed to be... and what humankind needed him to be. to be... and what humankind needed him to be.

As Muad'Dib, he had taken the guilt upon himself by allowing the sacrifice of billions in order to save trillions. And only he fully understood it. He could not place the blame for this on anyone else, and so he accepted the burden and steeled himself to continue doing what needed to be done.

Now he sat in judgment over Count Hasimir Fenring, boon companion of the fallen Emperor Shaddam IV. This man had tried to kill him.

”Ah, hm-m-m-m, I suppose this means you will not be offering me your finest wine again?” Fenring infused his words with bravado and impertinent humor, but his demeanor betrayed uncertainty. His large eyes flicked from side to side, taking in the Fedaykin guards, Stilgar, and the bloodthirsty Chani. He seemed to be wondering which one of them would deal the death blow that was sure to come.

For a moment Fenring focused on Alia, who was seated on the edge of the dais in a black robe. She looked like a tiny executioner, awaiting the command from her brother. She casually kicked her dangling feet. It was a childlike pose like the one she had struck when Shaddam IV sat on this same throne, just before she surprised and killed the Baron Harkonnen.

In a way, she looked somewhat like dear Marie....

”Here on Dune, water is more precious than wine,” Paul said. At a small ornate table beside the Hagal quartz throne, he removed the stopper from a jewel-encrusted ewer. He poured himself a small goblet and another for Fenring. Chani took the cup to the prisoner.

Eyeing it suspiciously, Fenring lifted his heavily shackled hands and accepted the goblet with brave resignation. ”So, you've decided on poison, hmm-m?” He sniffed the contents.

Paul sipped from his own cup. ”It is pure water.” He took another drink to demonstrate.

”It is well known that Muad'Dib can, ahh, convert poisons. This is a trick, isn't it?”

”No poison - on my honor. Atreides Atreides honor.” Paul locked his gaze with Fenring's. ”Drink with me.” honor.” Paul locked his gaze with Fenring's. ”Drink with me.”

Alia poured herself a goblet and quaffed it with obvious relish.

Fenring scowled down at the liquid in his cup. ”I served for many years here on Arrakis, so I know the value of water.” He drank from the goblet, then rudely let it clatter to the floor.

Paul took another sip. ”That was the water distilled from Marie's body. I wanted you to share it with me.” He casually poured the rest of the liquid on the dais and set aside the goblet, upended.

Doubling over with sudden nausea, the Count shuddered, then jerked at his shackles as if reaching for a weapon he didn't have.

Now Lady Margot Fenring was brought into the chamber to stand beside her husband, with Korba and Stilgar behind her. The Count instantly showed worry, as if his wife's fate concerned him more than his own. In a traditional Bene Gesserit black robe, Lady Margot still projected the hauteur of a n.o.blewoman, despite the lack of opportunity to groom herself.

At a gesture from Paul, Alia sprang off the dais and stood in front of Marie's mother, who gazed down at her with a stony expression. His sister held a long needle in her hand, the deadly gom jabbar. Margot Fenring stiffened, but Alia did not strike. Not yet.

Showing no weakness despite his injuries, remembering how the one-armed Archduke Armand Ecaz had insisted on going to war against Grumman after the wedding-day ma.s.sacre, Paul rose from the throne and stepped down from the dais onto the polished floor. His motions were slow, deliberate, and charged with lethal intent. He stood directly in front of Fenring.

The Emperor drew his own crysknife and pointed its tip at the Count. The guards moved aside, and Fenring went rigid, every muscle in his body petrified. He stared beyond Paul, as if seeing the death that awaited him there.

”Please do not kill him,” Lady Margot said.

”We die regardless,” Count Fenring said, half to her and half to Paul. ”The mob would tear us to pieces anyway, as they did to Swordmaster Bludd.” Now, shaking slightly, he looked at Paul. ”Would it help if I were to fall to my knees and plead for you to spare her? She did save your life years ago, by warning you and your mother of Harkonnen treachery.”

”Your own treachery erased that water burden,” Stilgar interjected sharply.

Fenring acted as if he did not hear the naib. ”If pleading would help, I'd abase myself in any manner to save the life of my Lady.”

Without answering, Paul circled the Count slowly, considering where to strike the mortal blow.

”You know I am more guilty than she is,” Fenring continued, babbling uncharacteristically. ”I did not act out of loyalty to Shaddam, nor was this any Bene Gesserit scheme that my wife encouraged. I speak truly when I say I despise Shaddam, because his foolishness shattered any obligations I once had toward him. He removed any chance for the Imperium to be strong and stable. Imagine the scope of his failure - Shaddam's rule was so hateful and corrupt that many people prefer even the fanaticism of your followers!”

Paul smiled savagely, but said nothing. He kept circling, pausing, and then continuing.

”It was not a personal thing, ahhh, I a.s.sure you. My hatred for you and your rule is purely logical. I needed to excise a particularly aggressive form of cancer for the sake of human civilization. With Muad'Dib removed from the equation, then Marie, myself, or a puppet might have had a chance to restore stability and grandeur.”

Finally, Paul said, ”You knew Marie had little or no chance of success, but sacrificed her with the knowledge that you might have a moment of opportunity while feigning grief over her death.”

Fenring's eyes flashed with anger. ”I feigned nothing!”

”He didn't!” Margot shouted.

Alia waved the gom jabbar in front of her.

Without taking his eyes from the Count, Paul said, ”A trick within a trick, and at the precise moment of my weakness you almost succeeded.”