Paul's attention came at last to a tall blonde woman, green-eyed, a face of patrician beauty, classic in its hauteur, untouched by tears, completely undefeated. Without being told it, Paul knew her - Princess Royal, Bene Gesserit - trained, a face that time vision had shown him in many aspects: Irulan.
There's my key , he thought.
Then he saw movement in the clustered people, a face and figure emerged - Thufir Hawat, the seamed old features with darkly stained lips, the hunched shoulders, the look of fragile age about him.
"There's Thufir Hawat," Paul said. "Let him stand free, Gurney."
"M'Lord," Gurney said.
"Let him stand free," Paul repeated.
Gurney nodded.
Hawat shambled forward as a Fremen lance was lifted and replaced behind him. The rheumy eyes peered at Paul, measuring, seeking.
Paul stepped forward one pace, sensed the tense, waiting movement of the Emperor and his people.
Hawat's gaze stabbed past Paul, and the old man said: "Lady Jessica, I but learned this day how I've wronged you in my thoughts. You needn't forgive."
Paul waited, but his mother remained silent.
"Thufir, old friend," Paul said, "as you can see, my back is toward no door."
"The universe is full of doors," Hawat said.
"Am I my father's son?" Paul asked.
"More like your grandfather's," Hawat rasped. "You've his manner and the look of him in your eyes."
"Yet I'm my father's son," Paul said. "For I say to you, Thufir, that in payment for your years of service to my family you may now ask anything you wish of me. Anything at all. Do you need my life now, Thufir? It is yours." Paul stepped forward a pace, hands at his side, seeing the look of awareness grow in Hawat's eyes.
He realizes that I know of the treachery , Paul thought.
Pitching his voice to carry in a half-whisper for Hawat's ears alone, Paul said: "I mean this, Thufir. If you're to strike me, do it now."
"I but wanted to stand before you once more, my Duke," Hawat said. And Paul became aware for the first time of the effort the old man exerted to keep from falling. Paul reached out, supported Hawat by the shoulders, feeling the muscle tremors beneath his hands.
"Is there pain, old friend?" Paul asked.
"There is pain, my Duke," Hawat agreed, "but the pleasure is greater." He half turned in Paul's arms, extended his left hand, palm up, toward the Emperor, exposing the tiny needle cupped against the fingers. "See, Majesty?" he called. "See your traitor's needle? Did you think that I who've given my life to service of the Atreides would give them less now?"
Paul staggered as the old man sagged in his arms, felt the death there, the utter flaccidity. Gently, Paul lowered Hawat to the floor, straightened and signed for guardsmen to carry the body away.
Silence held the hall while his command was obeyed.
A look of deadly waiting held the Emperor's face now. Eyes that had never admitted fear admitted it at last.
"Majesty," Paul said, and noted the jerk of surprised attention in the tall Princess Royal. The words had been uttered with the Bene Gesserit controlled atonals, carrying in it every shade of contempt and scorn that Paul could put there.
Bene-Gesserit trained indeed , Paul thought.
The Emperor cleared his throat, said: "Perhaps my respected kinsman believes he has things all his own way now. Nothing could be more remote from fact. You have violated the Convention, used atomics against - "
"I used atomics against a natural feature of the desert," Paul said. "It was in my way and I was in a hurry to get to you, Majesty, to ask your explanation for some of your strange activities."
"There's a massed armada of the Great Houses in space over Arrakis right now," the Emperor said. "I've but to say the word and they'll - "
"Oh, yes," Paul said, "I almost forgot about them." He searched through the Emperor's suite until he saw the faces of the two Guildsmen, spoke aside to Gurney. "Are those the Guild agents, Gurney, the two fat ones dressed in gray over there?"
"Yes, m'Lord."
"You two," Paul said, pointing. "Get out of there immediately and dispatch messages that will get that fleet on its way home. After this, you'll ask my permission before - "
"The Guild doesn't take your orders!" the taller of the two barked. He and his companion pushed through to the barrier lances, which were raised at a nod from Paul. The two men stepped out and the taller leveled an arm at Paul, said: "You may very well be under embargo for your - "
"If I hear any more nonsense from either of you," Paul said, "I'll give the order that'll destroy all spice production on Arrakis . . . forever."
"Are you mad?" the tall Guildsman demanded. He fell back half a step.
"You grant that I have the power to do this thing, then?" Paul asked.
The Guildsman seemed to stare into space for a moment, then: "Yes, you could do it, but you must not."
"Ah-h-h," Paul said and nodded to himself. "Guild navigators, both of you, eh?"
"Yes!"
The shorter of the pair said: "You would blind yourself, too, and condemn us all to slow death. Have you any idea what it means to be deprived of the spice liquor once you're addicted?"
"The eye that looks ahead to the safe course is closed forever," Paul said. "The Guild is crippled. Humans become little isolated clusters on their isolated planets. You know, I might do this thing out of pure spite . . . or out of ennui."
"Let us talk this over privately," the taller Guildsman said. "I'm sure we can come to some compromise that is - "