The Winds of Dune (56 page)

She could no longer maintain any semblance of her composure. She rushed from the banquet hall, saying nothing else, giving no further
orders. When she returned later, she knew that all the bodies would be gone, and everything would appear normal once more.

Inside her chambers, Jessica closed the door and threw the bolt home. She hoped the wooden barrier would be thick enough that no one could hear her. Fortunately, on Caladan there was no stricture against giving water to the dead.

Hours later, after she had drained away her grief, Jessica sat at her writing desk to compose a coldly worded message. The glow-globe cast a pool of light around her. Years ago, when she had asked the Bene Gesserit for help in finding the boys Paul and Bronso, she had received only a curt refusal. Now it was her turn to send a response that minced no words. She addressed the letter specifically to Reverend Mother Mohiam, her stern teacher, her secret mother.

“Your plan has failed. I know how you tried to manipulate me and others, but I am no longer a cog in your machine, and I will never be a part of your inner circle. So be it. I never asked to be Mother Superior.

“I know who you are, Gaius Helen Mohiam. I know your soul is filled with acid. Heed this warning—to you, personally, and to the entire Sisterhood: If the Bene Gesserits make another attempt to disgrace or destroy Paul, I will convince my son to send the full weight of his Jihad against the Mother School. I will ask him to sterilize Wallach IX, as he has sterilized other worlds. Believe me, I can persuade him to do it, so do not doubt my sincerity. He has wiped out other groups—religious and secular—that offended him. Do not add yourselves to that list.”

She paused in her writing, but anger pounded in her temples. Mohiam had made her come so close to believing their lies, so close to killing her own son.

Jessica added a postscript: “Do not send me messages or dispatch your envoys to Caladan. I have no desire to hear from you again. You berated me for allowing myself to feel love. I assure you, I am also capable of feeling
hatred.”

Those who worship Muad’Dib, read this.

Those who believe the lies of the Qizarate and the exaggerations of Princess Irulan, read this.

Those who respect truth, read this.

—
BRONSO OF IX,
introduction to his first pamphlet (untitled)

J
essica prepared herself for any backlash from angry townspeople who had lost friends, family, or well-respected members of the community. However, the initial reaction to the execution of a handful of dissidents on Caladan could have been much worse. At least for now, many of the disgruntled and dissatisfied locals accepted the Duchess’s pronouncement that placed the guilt directly on the shoulders of Mayor Horvu, the priest Sintra, and the other leaders of the revolt. After she explained how the good people of Caladan had been manipulated by the Bene Gesserits, the citizens reacted with shame and directed their anger toward the Sisterhood instead of her. When had the people of Caladan ever openly defied their rightful Duke or Duchess?

After being released, the hostage Qizaras applauded Jessica for her swift and sure justice, and they promised to speak on Caladan’s behalf so that Muad’Dib’s wrath would not fall upon this world or its people. They returned to Arrakis, ruffled but satisfied.

Then Bronso of Ix released his first shocking manifesto. It was late in the year 10,200, when the pundi-rice farmers of Caladan were preparing their paddies for the following season . . . when Muad’Dib had just sent a terrible force of ships to sterilize eleven more planets . . . when the Jihad seemed as if it would never end.

Distributed widely, copied, and passed from hand to hand, the treatise both horrified and titillated people with its bold and appalling claims. In a resounding reaction, the faithful rallied to protect the reputation and sanctity of Emperor Paul-Muad’Dib. On Caladan, those who might have complained about the executions of Horvu and his fellow conspirators suddenly found themselves infuriated by Bronso’s damning passages—so infuriated, in fact, that they had to tell everyone else about the outrageous, insulting claims.

Paul’s generals and priests issued an immediate order for the arrest and interrogation of the upstart Ixian, but Bronso Vernius was nowhere to be found. After transferring away most of his wealth, secretly draining House Vernius funds, Bronso had left the Grand Palais and vanished into space, leaving no trace of his whereabouts.

Jihad troops bearing the banners of orthodoxy encircled Ix, swarmed into the underground city of Vernii, and questioned all members of the Technocrat Council, demanding to know how they had aided the traitor in spreading his sedition. Fearing for their lives, the Ixian Council disavowed all knowledge of Bronso’s actions and vehemently condemned him. Unfortunately for them, the military arm of the Qizarate did not find their denials convincing. Along with many others, Bolig Avati did not survive his interrogation.. . .

Gurney brought one of the pamphlets to Jessica as she tended her new gardens in the courtyard of Castle Caladan. “Have you read what Bronso is saying, my Lady?”

She tamped down dirt around a new, fragrant-smelling rosemary bush. “No, I’ve chosen not to think about it.”

He seemed barely able to contain his annoyance. “I snatched this from a bonfire down at the docks. The villagers confiscated copies from a man who found them in his baggage. They’re so incensed at the insult to Paul that they wanted to throw the man in the flames as well. He insisted he didn’t know how the documents had come into his possession, and I sent him back up to the Heighliner to save his life.” He lowered his voice. “Like you, I didn’t want to read drivel against Paul . . . but if I had read this beforehand, maybe I would have let them have their way with the man.”

Gurney extended the pamphlet to her, but Jessica still made no move to take it. She brushed dirt from her palms. “And what exactly upsets you so much? Have you been reading Irulan’s syrupy reports for so long you’ve forgotten that Paul doesn’t actually walk on water?”

Gurney frowned and took a seat beside her on a stone bench in the garden. “Actually, Irulan claims that he walks on sand but leaves no footprints.” He opened the pamphlet again, skimmed it, then threw it down on the ground in disgust to emphasize his point. Jessica did not pick it up.

“To be honest, my Lady, I can’t claim that his facts are absolutely wrong. But ever since Earl Rhombur was killed and Bronso turned his back on House Atreides, I knew he’d be trouble. That boy has let his hatred fester, and now . . .
this
.” In frustration, Gurney leaned closer to her. “Why aren’t you more upset?”

Jessica gave him an enigmatic, pained smile, snipping an aromatic frond of the herb, inhaling deeply. “Oh Gurney, my son’s government is strong enough to weather a little criticism—and maybe even benefit from it. The priests, of course, will cover their eyes and ears, but Paul might listen, and Alia too.”

“I suppose you’re right, my Lady. Duke Leto would never have been afraid of a few complaints.” Gurney had a wistful look on his face. “I’m guilty of a similar thing myself. When I was much younger, I sang a few songs about the Baron Harkonnen.” He hummed, then burst into a refrain:

“We work in the fields, we work in the towns,
and this is our lot in life.

For the rivers are wide, and the valleys are low,
and the Baron
—he is fat.”

He shook his head to drive away the bad memories. “When the Harkonnen troops heard me sing that, they smashed my baliset, beat me to within an inch of my life, and threw me into a slave pit.”

Jessica covered his hand with hers, silently acknowledging everything he had gone through. “So you see, Gurney, we should ignore Bronso. He’ll probably just go away.”

But she knew that Bronso of Ix was just getting started.

PART V
10,207 AG

Two months after the end of Muad’Dib’s reign

Knowledge is an impotent thing if a person refuses to believe.

—Bene Gesserit axiom