Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [144]
He hadn’t expected to take so long to reach his destination, but his life was better now, despite the incredibly hard work he’d taken on. He felt safe, freer in a way than he had ever felt before. The men on the crew were his new family.
Under cloudy skies the fishing boat finally reached port, and Duncan left the sea behind. He didn’t ask for pay, didn’t take his leave of the captain—he simply departed. The oceangoing sojourn was just a step along the way. Never once during his long journey did he ever deviate from his main goal of reaching the Old Duke. He took advantage of no one and worked hard for the hospitality he received.
In a dockside alley a sailor from another ship once tried to molest him, but Duncan fought back with iron-hard muscles and whip-fast reflexes. The bruised and battered predator retreated, finding this wild boy too much for him.
Duncan began hitching rides on groundtrucks and cars, and sneaked aboard tube trains and short-haul cargo ’thopters. Inexorably, he moved north on the continent, toward Castle Caladan, getting closer and closer as the months passed.
During the frequent rains, he found trees under which he could huddle. But even wet and hungry, he didn’t feel so bad, for he recalled the terrible night at Forest Guard Station, how cold he had been, how he had used a knife to cut open his own shoulder. After that, he could certainly handle these brief discomforts.
Sometimes he struck up conversations with other travelers and heard stories of their popular Duke, bits of Atreides history. Back on Giedi Prime, no one had spoken of such matters. People held their opinions to themselves and gave up no information except under duress. Here, however, the locals were happy to talk about their situation. Duncan realized with a shock one afternoon as he traveled with three entertainers that the people on Caladan actually loved their leader.
In sharp contrast, Duncan had heard only terrible stories of the Harkonnens. He knew the fear of the populace and the brutal consequences of any real or imagined defiance. On this planet, though, the people respected rather than feared their ruler. The Old Duke, Duncan was told, walked with only a small honor guard through villages and markets, visiting the people without wearing any armor, without shields or fear of attack.
Baron Harkonnen or Glossu Rabban would never dare such a thing.
I may like this Duke, Duncan thought one night, curled up under a blanket one of the entertainers had loaned him. . . .
Finally, after months of travel, he stood in the village at the foot of the promontory that held Castle Caladan. The magnificent structure stood like a sentinel gazing out across the calm seas. Somewhere inside it lived Duke Paulus Atreides, by now a legendary figure to the boy.
Duncan shivered from the chill of morning and took a deep breath. The fog lifted above the seacoast, turning the rising sun into a deep orange ball. He marched away from the village and started up the long, steep road to the Castle. This was where he must go.
As he walked, he did what he could to make himself presentable, brushing the dust from his clothes and tucking his wrinkled pullover shirt into his trousers. But he felt confident about himself, regardless of his appearance, and this Duke would accept him or throw him out. Either way, Duncan Idaho would survive.
When he reached the gates that led into the great courtyard, the Atreides guards tried to bar his way, thinking him a panhandler.
“I’m not a beggar,” Duncan announced with his head held high. “I have come across the galaxy to see the Duke, and I must tell him my story.”
The guards just laughed. “We can find you some scraps from the kitchen, but no more.”
“That would be very kind of you, sirs,” Duncan agreed, his stomach grumbling with hunger, “but that isn’t why I’m here. Please send a message into the Castle that”—he tried to remember the phrasing one of the traveling singers had taught him—“that Master Duncan Idaho requests an audience