for your royal station, we have been polite, but don’t make the mistake of thinking that this is a matter open to discussion. We command you to do as we say.”
Irulan also stood, making no further pretense of welcome. “Indeed, it is not a matter open to discussion, so I shall debate with you no more. Did you disembark with luggage? If so, I will arrange to have it sent back to the spaceport. I advise you to depart on this evening’s shuttle, to avoid incurring the Emperor’s displeasure. Reverend Mother Mohiam has already been banned from traveling here. Would you like that stricture to be extended to all members of the Sisterhood?”
“We will not be herded around!” Genino’s anger and surprise were so great that she allowed hints of it to slip past her control. Irulan was astonished, marking the reaction with great interest. Obviously, Marie Fenring was even more important to the Sisterhood than Lady Margot had revealed.
Irulan heard footsteps from the pathway on the other side of the hedge. Familiar footsteps. “Ah, the Emperor approaches — he must have been informed of your arrival. You may ask him yourselves, if you like.”
Paul emerged from the labyrinth, attired in an elegant green-and-gold robe of state. He looked as if he had just interrupted his duties, and his expression showed palpable annoyance. He strode directly to the gazebo. “Why was I not informed immediately that Reverend Mothers had arrived in Arrakeen?”
Irulan formally curtsied. Half a beat later, the other three women did the same. Genino found her voice quickly. “We came to visit Princess Irulan, noble Sire.”
Irulan said in a soft voice, “They did not come at my invitation, and they are departing immediately.” She shot a cool smile at the three women. “They demanded influence over the education of Alia and Marie.”
“Absolutely not.” Paul didn’t take even a moment to decide. “I forbid it.”
Irulan added, “Apparently, Lady Margot Fenring was not aware of their intentions, either.”
The three Reverend Mothers looked startled at Irulan’s detached behavior. But their priorities were no longer hers. In the process of compiling the story of Paul-Muad’Dib Atreides, she had begun to learn other threads of cause and effect — and serious missteps — that made her wonder about the Sisterhood’s wisdom. She discovered that the Bene Gesserit had shaped portions of the historical record as they saw fit, concealing their mistakes and embellishing their successes. Certain facts were like clay in their hands. So it was with Irulan as well, in the telling of her famous husband’s story.
“We make no attempt to interfere, Sire,” Genino said. “We are merely here to offer —”
Paul cut her off, his expression dangerous. “You would be wise to consider your words before you speak further. With my truthsense, I hear your lies as if they are shouts.”
The robed trio departed hastily, with awkward motions. Irulan realized that she was surprisingly amused, though her heart pounded at the thought of what she had dared to do. The repercussions here, and on Wallach IX! She listened until they were well into the hedge maze, then said to Paul, “How they will talk when they return to the Mother School.”
“I do not fear their talk.” Paul looked at her with unusual candor. “I was something of a disappointment to their breeding plans myself, like Count Fenring. Presumably, his daughter Marie is quite precious to them because of her genetics.”
Irulan nodded. “With your permission, I would like to inform Lady Margot Fenring of this incident. Perhaps it will make her more of an ally. This was, after all, as much of an affront to Marie as it was to Alia.”
He studied her momentatily. “You surprise me with your dimensions of complexity, Irulan.”
“Thank you, my Lord.”
“Yes, send your message to the Fenrings and tell them what the Bene Gesserit attempted to do here. I am curious to see how they will react.” Paul whirled and left.
Alone at the center of the maze, Irulan performed a prana-bindu breathing exercise to calm herself.
10
Even the best plans can come unraveled if a frayed end is left untended.
In their many years of marriage, Margot Fenring had seen her husband in bad moods, but never quite like this. Learning from Irulan of the Reverend Mothers’ attempt to interfere with Marie’s training had set him off on a private tirade. “Bene Gesserit blundering could jeopardize our delicate plans. What could they have been thinking? Now that Paul Atreides is aware of the Sisterhood’s interest in Marie, he may start asking inconvenient questions. We must accelerate our timetable.”
Margot bitterly resented the Sisterhood’s interference. Had she and her husband not been clear enough with Reverend Mother Mohiam when they went to Wallach IX? Now they would have to act even more blatantly to bypass the Sisterhood. “Our plan must adapt to circumstances, my love, and we have a sudden opportunity. This provides a convenient catalyst. Now that Irulan has informed us of this outrage, we simply must visit Arrakeen to assure ourselves that Marie is all right.”
His overlarge eyes glittered. “Hmm-ahh. Yes, the Emperor would not deny us that privilege. Our poor, dear daughter, threatened by the meddling witches.” Fenring kissed her on the cheek. “We shall arrange for immediate passage to Arrakis.”
THE COUNT NEEDED no reminders about their plan as he and Lady Margot disembarked at the spaceport outside Muad’Dib’s stupendous, sprawling capital. The journey had given them ample time to discuss nuances, contingencies, and shadings of behavior that they would follow. Their goal remained paramount, the key intersection point of all the lines of possibility.
Even so, Fenring could not deny the fact that he was eager to see their daughter again. By now she must be ready.
He and his Lady looked up at the battlements and ramparts of the huge citadel complex that sprawled across the northern suburbs of Arrakeen, centered on the old Residency, and extended all the way to the Shield Wall cliffs — so different from when the Fenrings had lived here! Gigantic suspensor cranes loomed over portions of the vast compound as work continued.
Margot must have noted a slight quivering in the muscles of his primary weapon hand — tension, preparation. When his wife touched that forearm and made eye contact with him, he felt his pulse slow, just a little. He said, “Mmm, I will let you do the talking for both of us.”
Yes, they had woven a deadly tapestry of plans, but the Imperium was full of plans and unseen linkages. They had both been surprised to learn of the assassination attempt during the Great Surrender ceremony — not by any of Muad’Dib’s numerous sworn enemies, but by a purportedly faithful Swordmaster. The Count found it amusing. With many attempts brewing, sooner or later some plot was bound to succeed against Paul Atreides. He was like the pretentious, widely despised master of a carnival sideshow, but on a galactic scale.
Apart from the inconvenience to himself and to his beloved wife, Fenring had not been sad to see Shaddam dislodged from power; by the same token, he would be glad to see an end to the brief, terrible reign of Muad’Dib. In its place, after the turmoil, he would make sure he was in a position to establish something far more efficient and…
Paul Atreides should have come to him for advice in the first place.
One of the Spaceport soldiers marched toward them, a statue in motion. Blocking their way, he raised one hand in a stiff, halting gesture, while keeping the other near a sheathed dagger. No emotion showed on his chiseled, weathered face, like something sculpted by sandstorm winds. “State your business in the city of Muad’Dib.”
“There is no need to be impertinent,” Lady Margot said. “We were cleared on the shuttle. Our daughter is a guest in the Emperor’s household, and we have come in response to an urgent message sent by the Princess
