Although the oily-suited man could barely stand upright, he seemed to shrug off the injury. No words came from his throat, only a raspy sound like rustling paper. When the man swung the sickle-dagger, Paul ducked, still brandishing the sharp-edged coral rock, but it was a clumsy weapon for a nimble person. The assassin’s mangled knee made him walk with a dying insect’s gait, yet he lurched farther into the room, slashing with the knife again.
Seeing the cot where Bronso supposedly slept, the intruder turned back to Paul, thrusting the dagger toward him as Paul attacked again with the heavy rock. Suddenly Bronso’s cot burst upward, and the Ixian boy used it as a battering ram, yelling at the top of his lungs. The unexpected appearance of the lightweight rectangular bed startled the crippled assassin. The curved dagger slammed through the bedding, through the pillow, and into the thin mattress pad, but Bronso twisted the cot, snagging the blade.
Paul smashed the man’s shoulder with his coral rock, then shouted, “Guards! Duncan! We’re being attacked!”
With a great burst of strength the oil-skinned killer tore his knife free from the pallet. Paul and Bronso backed together into a defensive position.
Outside the door, Paul heard a sound like a stampeding bull — footfalls crashing down the corridor. Prince Rhombur Vernius smashed into the room in a fury of prosthetics, knocking the door off its hinges. The silent assassin whirled at the new arrival, and Rhombur grabbed him by the throat.
Refusing to surrender, the intruder drove the curved dagger down, slicing into Rhombur’s reinforced chest, chopping repeatedly into his shoulder, trying to stab the cyborg’s spine. Rhombur’s synthetic grip tightened. With a final clench of his hand, he crushed the man’s throat and cast him like a limp doll to the floor.
The dead assassin’s arms and legs twitched and jittered, as from a heavy pulse of electricity, and the black, oily suit burst into flame, incinerating his entire body in an astonishing self-destruct process.
“Bronso, are you all right?” Rhombur demanded. “Paul, what happened here?”
“We are safe,” Paul said.
Bronso added, “Neither of us is as defenseless as that man believed.”
THE COMMOTION AND lights in the infirmary had awakened Armand Ecaz, who was still in a weakened state. The Archduke saw Duncan fighting the assassins and, knowing he could not fight alongside Duncan, he did his best to help nonetheless. He yanked the medical monitors from his body, cutting off his vital signs.
Instantly, shrill medical alarms echoed from the monitors.
The sound startled the third assassin for just a moment, and with a broad sweep of the sword Duncan decapitated him, cutting through the oily black hood that extended over the man’s hair. The other two men, though dying from their sword wounds, still struggled to come at him.
Duncan stood back, wondering how much information could be gleaned from them before they perished. He had no doubt that they were a second wave of Moritani killers sent to murder Archduke Ecaz. But what if a third wave of assassins was hidden on Caladan… or a fourth?
As the three attackers died, their black suits activated a final failsafe measure. The headless man burst into flames first. His incendiary suit created a pyre that filled the ward with a thick greasy smoke and the stench of roasting flesh. The white-hot flames grew brighter, cremating the remains to the bone — eliminating any evidence. The mortally wounded pair fell next and were also immolated as soon as they died.
The Archduke lay back in his bed coughing, fighting for words. “Too weak to fight… it was the only way I could summon help.”
“It made all the difference.” Fuming with anger at the invasion, Duncan heard shouts from down the hall. “At least you are safe, Archduke.”
“I am not safe,” the one-armed man replied hoarsely. “And neither are you — nor any member of House Atreides.”
4
Even if you lose all your riches, your home, and your family… so long as you retain your honor, you are still a wealthy man.
In the War Council chamber, Leto could barely find words to express his outrage. “One massacre wasn’t enough for the Viscount? Not only has he violated my home, crippled my friend, cut down a great warrior, and murdered my bride-to-be — now he has tried to kill my son!”
Archduke Armand sat wearily at the table, his arm stump still wrapped in bandages, a few scabbed cuts showing on his face and hands, like badges of honor. “You are not the reason for this, Leto. The Viscount meant to attack me. Those boys were just convenient additional targets.”
“No, Armand, it was no accident. That assassin purposely sought out Paul’s chamber. Now that Moritani has set his sights on killing my son, he will not stop. None of us are safe.” Leto’s expression remained dark. “If I ever was a mere bystander, I am not anymore. I am as involved as you.”
He turned to his own Swordmaster. “Duncan, I charge you with a task more important than any other service you have performed for House Atreides. I think it likely the Grummans have other assassins in hiding. Take Paul away from Castle Caladan and keep him safe — go someplace where he will never be found.”
Duncan frowned. “Does such a place exist, my Lord?”
“The Eastern Continent, the Sisters in Isolation. Their abbey is a veritable fortress. Have him stay there with his grandmother.”
“My son was also a target last night,” Rhombur rumbled like a steam engine about to explode. “You are not in this alone, Leto. If you join this War of Assassins, I will fight at your side — even though the technocrats would prefer that I go back and watch over the assembly lines.”
“No, that is exactly what you should do, my friend,” Leto said. “Thanks to House Moritani, this firestorm has already spread beyond the Ginaz School and Ecaz to involve Caladan. If you bring Ix into this as well, Emperor Shaddam will punish all of us rather than let this explode into a conflict that spreads through the whole Landsraad.”
“But you can’t just let him get away with this!” Rhombur exclaimed.
“No indeed — we must take the offensive.” Leto looked at Archduke Ecaz. “My marriage to your daughter was not completed, but I am still bound by my word of honor. House Atreides and House Ecaz are allies — not just for politics and commerce, but in all things. I pledge the forces of House Atreides to your military. My military will accompany you to Ecaz to gather your forces, and together we will bring the bloodshed to the Viscount’s doorstep. Perhaps God Himself can forgive Hundro Moritani for what he has done, but I shall not.”
WHEN LETO FINALLY lifted the travel embargo to and from Caladan, the wedding guests and noble visitors clamored for positions on the waiting Heighliner above, bidding for berths to hold their family frigates. But the Duke commandeered every available spot in order to carry an entire Atreides military fleet to Ecaz. He told the other travelers they would have to wait for the next Guildship.
The Spacing Guild representatives were at first offended that a nobleman from a minor planet would give them such instructions, but Leto displayed images of the massacre caused by Viscount Moritani. Slamming his palm on the hard tabletop, Leto said, “These matters extend outside the scope of normal commerce. I invoke the Rules of the Great Convention.”
Thufir Hawat had offered specific legal arguments for Leto to cite, but the Guildsmen knew their own rules. When the representative from the orbiting ship saw the uncompromising expressions on the faces of Leto and the one-armed Archduke, he conceded. “So long as you pay for the passage of all your ships, we will take you where you need to go.”
