Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [147]
Stepping in perfect rhythm, a stony-faced regiment of the Baron’s household troops marched up to surround the Bene Gesserit shuttle—more than sufficient to intimidate the witches.
The Burseg Kryubi, formerly a pilot on Arrakis and now head of Harkonnen house security, stood in front of the shuttle-debarkation ramp, two steps ahead of his nearest troops. All were dressed in formal blue.
Mohiam appeared at the top of the ramp, engulfed in her Bene Gesserit robes and flanked by acolyte retainers, personal guards, and other Sisters. She frowned with disdain at the Burseg and his men. “What is the meaning of this reception? Where is the Baron?”
Burseg Kryubi looked up at her. “Do not attempt your manipulative Voice on me or there will be a . . . dangerous . . . reaction from the troops. My orders state that you alone are allowed to see the Baron. No guards, no retainers, no companions. He awaits you in the formal hall of the Keep.” He nodded toward the attendants behind her in the shuttle. “None of these others may enter.”
“Unthinkable,” Mohiam said. “I request formal diplomatic courtesy. All of my party must be received with the respect they are due.”
Kryubi did not flinch. “I know what the witch wants,” the Baron had said. “And if she thinks she can show up here to rut with me on a regular basis, she’s sadly mistaken!”—whatever that meant.
The Burseg stared her down, eye to eye. “Your request is denied.” He was far more frightened of the Baron’s punishments than of anything this woman could do to him. “You are free to leave if this does not meet with your approval.”
With a snort, Mohiam started down the ramp, flashing a glance at those who remained in the ship. “For all his perversions, the Baron Vladimir Harkonnen is somewhat prudish,” she said mockingly, more for the benefit of the Harkonnen troops than for her own people. “Especially when it comes to matters of sexuality.”
Kryubi, who had not been apprised of the situation, was intrigued by this reference. But he decided that certain things were best left unknown.
“Tell me, Burseg,” the witch said to him in an irritating tone, “how would you even know if I was using Voice on you?”
“A soldier never reveals his full arsenal of defenses.”
“I see.” Her tone was soothing, sensual. Kryubi didn’t feel threatened by it, but wondered if his bluff had worked.
Unknown to this foolish soldier, Mohiam was a Truthsayer capable of recognizing nuances of falsehood and deception. She allowed the pompous Burseg to lead her across an overpass on a walkway tunnel. Once inside Harkonnen Keep, the Reverend Mother put on her best air of aloof confidence, gliding along with feigned nonchalance.
But every one of her heightened senses was attuned to the slightest anomaly. The Baron made her extremely suspicious. She knew he was up to something.
Pacing restlessly in the Great Hall, Baron Harkonnen looked around, his black eyes flashing and intent. The room was large and cold, the harsh light too bright from unfiltered glowglobes clustered in the corners and along the ceiling. As he walked in pointed black boots, his footsteps echoed, making the entire hall sound hollow, empty—a good place for an ambush.
Though the residential portion of the Keep might appear vacant, the Baron had stationed guards and electronic spy-eyes in various alcoves. He knew he couldn’t fool the Bene Gesserit whore for long, but it didn’t matter. Even if she learned they were being watched, it might give her pause and prevent her from pulling her insidious tricks. The caution might at least gain him a few seconds.
Since he planned to be in control this time, the Baron wanted his people to watch. He’d give them a very good show, something they’d talk about in their barracks and troop ships for years to come. Best of all, it would put the witches in their place. Blackmail me, indeed!
Piter de Vries came up behind him, moving so swiftly and silently that he startled the Baron, who snapped, “Don’t do that, Piter!”
“I’ve brought what you asked, my Baron.” The twisted Mentat extended his hand, offering two small