Hunters of Dune - Brian Herbert [9]
This woman had criticized the Mother Commander’s leadership once too often, holding her own meetings and railing against the merging of Honored Matres and Bene Gesserits. Some of Annine’s followers had even disappeared from the main city and established their own base in the uninhabited northern territories. Murbella could not allow such a provocation to pass unchallenged.
The way Annine had handled her dissatisfaction—embarrassing Murbella and diminishing her authority and prestige from behind a cloak of cowardly anonymity—had been unforgivable. The Mother Commander knew Annine’s type well enough. No negotiation, no compromise, no appeal for understanding would ever change her mind. The woman defined herself through her opposition.
A waste of human raw material. Murbella flashed an expression of disgust. If Annine had only turned her anger against a real enemy . . .
Women of both factions observed from either side of the great hall. The two groups were reluctant to mix, instead separating into “whores” on one side and “witches” on the other. Like oil and water.
In the years since forcing this unification, Murbella had come through numerous situations in which she might have been killed, but she eluded every trap, sliding, adapting, administering harsh punishments.
Her authority over these women was wholly legitimate: She was both Reverend Mother Superior, selected by Odrade, as well as Great Honored Matre by virtue of assassinating her predecessor. She had chosen the title of Mother Commander for herself to symbolize the integration of the two important ranks, and as time passed, she noticed that the women had all become rather protective of her. Murbella’s lessons were having the desired effect, albeit slowly.
Following the seesaw battle on Junction, the only way for the embattled Sisterhood to survive the violence of the Honored Matres had been to let them believe they were victorious. In a philosophical turnabout, the captors actually became captives before they realized it; Bene Gesserit knowledge, training, and wiles subsumed their competitors’ rigid beliefs. In most cases.
At a hand signal, the Mother Commander caused her guards to tighten Annine’s restraints. The woman’s face contorted in pain.
Murbella descended the polished steps, never taking her eyes off the captive. Reaching the floor, Murbella glared down at the shorter woman. It pleased her to see the eyes change, filling with fear instead of defiance as realization swept over her.
Honored Matres rarely bothered to hold back their emotions, choosing instead to exploit them. They found that a provocative feral expression, a clear indication of anger and danger, could make their victims prone to submission. In sharp contrast, Reverend Mothers considered emotions a weakness and controlled them rigidly.
“Over the years, I have met many challengers and killed them all,” Murbella said. “I dueled with Honored Matres who did not acknowledge my rule. I stood up to Bene Gesserits who refused to accept what I am doing. How much more blood and time must I waste on this nonsense when we have a real Enemy hunting us?”
Without releasing Annine’s restraints or loosening her gag, Murbella brought forth a gleaming dagger from her sash and thrust it into Annine’s throat. No ceremony or dignity . . . no wasting of time.
The guards held the dying prisoner up as she twitched and thrashed and gurgled half words, then slumped over, her eyes glassy and dead. Annine hadn’t even made a mess on the floor.
“Remove her.” Murbella wiped the knife on the victim’s plazsilk cape, then resumed her seat on the throne. “I have more important business to take care of.”
Out in the galaxy, ruthless and untamed Honored Matres—still greatly outnumbering the Bene Gesserits—operated in independent cells, discrete groups. Many of those women refused to recognize the Mother Commander’s authority and continued their original plan of slash and burn, destroy and run. Before they could face the real Enemy,