To most of the Empire’s docile citizens, Moneo knew, the firm knowledge which he held in his own head lay concealed in the Oral History, in the myths and wild stories told by infrequent mad prophets who cropped up on one planet or another to gather a short-lived following.
And he knew also about evil men who sat at table, gorging themselves on rare delicacies while they watched the torture of fellow humans.
Until the Fish Speakers came, and gore erased such scenes.
“I enjoyed the way your daughter watched me,” Leto said. “She was so unaware that I knew.”
“Lord, I fear for her! She is my blood, my . . .”
“Mine, too, Moneo. Am I not Atreides? You would be better employed fearing for yourself.”
Moneo cast a fearful glance along the God Emperor’s body. The signs of the Worm remained too near. Moneo glanced at the cortege following, then along the road ahead. They now were into the steep descent, the switchbacks short and cut into high walls in the man-piled rocks of the cliff barrier which girdled the Sareer.
“Siona does not offend me, Moneo.”
“But she . . .”
“Moneo! Here, in its mysterious capsule is one of life’s great secrets. To be
“Lord, I . . .”
“New! Isn’t that a radiant, a
“If you say it, Lord.”
Leto was forced to remind himself then:
“Your child is worth almost any price to me, Moneo. You decry her companions, but there may be one among them that she will love.”
Moneo cast an involuntary glance back at Duncan Idaho marching with the guards. Idaho was glaring ahead as though trying to probe each turn in the road before they reached it. He did not like this place with its high walls all around from which attack might come. Idaho had sent scouts up there in the night and Moneo knew that some of them still lurked on the heights, but there also were ravines ahead before the marchers reached the river. And there had not been enough guards to station them everywhere.
“We will depend upon the Fremen,” Moneo had reassured him.
“Fremen?” Idaho did not like what he heard about the Museum Fremen.
“At least they can sound an alarm against intruders,” Moneo had said.
“You saw them and asked them to do that?”
“Of course.”
Moneo had not dared to broach the subject of Siona to Idaho. Time enough for that later, but now the God Emperor had said a disturbing thing. Had there been a change in plans?
Moneo returned his attention to the God Emperor and lowered his voice.
“Love a companion, Lord? But you said the Duncan . . .”
“I said
Moneo trembled, thinking of how his own mating had been arranged, the wrenching away from . . .
There had been affection, even a real love . . . later, but in the first days . . .
“You are woolgathering again, Moneo.”
“Forgive me, Lord, but when you speak of love . . .”
“You think I have no tender thoughts?”
“It’s not that, Lord, but . . .”
“You think I have no memories of love and breeding, then?” The cart swerved toward Moneo, forcing him to dodge away, frightened by the glowering look on the Lord Leto’s face.
“Lord, I beg your . . .”
“This
Moneo could see the signs of the Worm growing more dominant in the God Emperor’s body and there was no escaping recognition of this mood.
Moneo grew aware of every sound around him, the creaking of the Royal Cart, the coughs and low conversation from the entourage, the feet on the roadway. There was an exhalation of cinnamon from the God Emperor. The air here between the enclosing rock walls still held its morning chill and there was dampness from the river.
Was it the moisture bringing out the Worm?
“Listen to me, Moneo, as though your life depended on it.”
“Yes, Lord,” Moneo whispered, and he knew his life did depend on the care he took now, not only in listening but in observing.
“Part of me dwells forever underground without thought,” Leto said. “That part reacts. It does things without a care for knowing or logic.”
Moneo nodded, his attention glued on the God Emperor’s face. Were the eyes about to glaze?
“I am forced to stand off and watch such things, nothing more,” Leto said. “Such a reaction could cause your death. The choice is not mine. Do you hear?”
“I hear you, Lord,” Moneo whispered.
“There is no such thing as
“I fear the unknown, Lord.”
“But I don’t fear it. Tell me why!”
Moneo had been expecting a crisis such as this and, now that it had come, he almost welcomed it. He knew that his life depended on his answer. He stared at his God Emperor, mind racing.