Children of Dune
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"A way, yes," Stilgar said. Again he shook his head. "Painful, irrevocable. That is why I remind you about our attitude toward guilt. We can free ourselves from guilts which might destroy us in everything except the Trial of Possession. For that, the tribunal, which is all of the people, accepts complete responsibility."
"You've done it before, haven't you?"
"I'm sure the Reverend Mother didn't omit our history in her recital," Stilgar said. "You well know we've done it before."
Idaho responded to the irritation in Stilgar's voice. "I wasn't trying to trap you in a falsehood. It's just -"
"It's the long night and the questions without answers," Stilgar said. "And now it's morning."
"I must be allowed to send a message to Jessica," Idaho said.
"That would be a message to Salusa," Stilgar said. "I don't make evening promises. My word is meant to be kept; that is why Tabr's neutral territory. I will hold you in silence. I have pledged this for my entire household."
"Alia must be brought to your Trial!"
"Perhaps. First, we must find out if there are extenuating circumstances. A failure of authority, possibly. Or even bad luck. It could be a case of that natural bad tendency which all humans share, and not possession at all."
"You want to be sure I'm not just the husband wronged, seeking others to execute his revenge," Idaho said.
"The thought has occurred to others, not to me," Stilgar said. He smiled to take the sting out of his words. "We Fremen have our science of tradition, our hadith. When we fear a mentat or a Reverend Mother, we revert to the hadith. It is said that the only fear we cannot correct is the fear of our own mistakes."
"The Lady Jessica must be told," Idaho said. "Gurney says -"
"That message may not come from Gurney Halleck."
"It comes from no other. We Atreides have our ways of verifying messages. Stil, won't you at least explore some of -"
"Jacurutu is no more," Stilgar said. "It was destroyed many generations ago." He touched Idaho's sleeve. "In any event, I cannot spare the fighting men. These are troubled times, the threat to the qanat... you understand?" He sat back. "Now, when Alia -"
"There is no more Alia," Idaho said.
"So you say." Stilgar took another sip of coffee, replaced the cup. "Let it rest there, friend Idaho. Often there's no need to tear off an arm to remove a splinter."
"Then let's talk about Ghanima."
"There's no need. She has my countenance, my bond. No one can harm her here."
He cannot be that naive, Idaho thought.
But Stilgar was rising to indicate that the interview was ended.
Idaho levered himself to his feet, feeling the stiffness in his knees. His calves felt numb. As Idaho stood, an aide entered and stood aside. Javid came into the room behind him. Idaho turned. Stilgar stood four paces away. Without hesitating, Idaho drew his knife in one swift motion and drove its point into the breast of the unsuspecting Javid. The man staggered backward, pulling himself off the knife. He turned, fell onto his face. His legs kicked and he was dead.
"That was to silence the gossip," Idaho said.
The aide stood with drawn knife, undecided how to react. Idaho had already sheathed his own knife, leaving a trace of blood on the edge of his yellow robe.
"You have defiled my honor!" Stilgar cried. "This is neutral -"
"Shut up!" Idaho glared at the shocked Naib. "You wear a collar, Stilgar!"
It was one of the three most deadly insults which could be directed at a Fremen. Stilgar's face went pale.
"You are a servant," Idaho said. "You've sold Fremen for their water."
This was the second most deadly insult, the one which had destroyed the original Jacurutu.
Stilgar ground his teeth, put a hand on his crysknife. The aide stepped back away from the body in the doorway.
Turning his back on the Naib, Idaho stepped into the door, taking the narrow opening beside Javid's body and speaking without turning, delivered the third insult. "You have no immortality, Stilgar. None of your descendants carry your blood!"
"Where do you go now, mentat?" Stilgar called as Idaho continued leaving the room. Stilgar's voice was as cold as a wind from the poles.
"To find Jacurutu," Idaho said, still not turning.
Stilgar drew his knife. "Perhaps I can help you."
Idaho was at the outer lip of the passage now. Without stopping, he said: "If you'd help me with your knife, water-thief, please do it in my back. That's the fitting way for one who wears the collar of a demon."
With two leaping strides Stilgar crossed the room, stepped on Javid's body and caught Idaho in the outer passage. One gnarled hand jerked Idaho around and to a stop. Stilgar confronted Idaho with bared teeth and a drawn knife. Such was his rage that Stilgar did not even see the curious smile on Idaho's face.
"Draw your knife, mentat scum!" Stilgar roared.
Idaho laughed. He cuffed Stilgar sharply - left hand, right hand - two stinging slaps to the head.
With an incoherent screech, Stilgar drove his knife into Idaho's abdomen, striking upward through the diaphragm into the heart.
Idaho sagged onto the blade, grinned up at Stilgar, whose rage dissolved into sudden icy shock.
"Two deaths for the Atreides," Idaho husked. "The second for no better reason than the first." He lurched sideways, collapsed to the stone floor on his face. Blood spread out from his wound.