CHAPITRE VIII:
Nightmare on Arrakis.

"Do you wrestle with dreams? Do you contend with shadows? Do you move in a kind of sleep? Time has slipped away. Your life is stolen. You tarried with trifles, Victim of your folly."

— from 'Songs of Muad'Dib' by the Princess Irulan

IN THE OPULENT DINING HALL OF THE ARRAKEEN GREAT HOUSE, the early darkness was held at bay by the warm glow of suspensor lamps, their golden light casting elongated shadows that danced upon the polished surfaces of the room. Above, the imposing black bull's head, with its menacing horns, loomed ominously, a silent guardian watching over the scene below. Nearby, a darkly glistening oil painting of the Old Duke hung on the wall, its stern visage adding to the air of solemnity that pervaded the space.

Beneath these watchful talismans, the grand dining table stood resplendent, adorned with crisp white linen that gleamed softly in the lamplight. The burnished reflections of the Atreides silver shimmered against the tablecloth, arranged meticulously in precise formations that spoke of careful attention to detail. Each setting was a masterpiece of symmetry, with crystal glasses gleaming beside delicately placed utensils, creating a tableau of elegance and refinement.

The central chandelier, a classic fixture of the room, remained unlit, its intricate design shrouded in darkness. Above, the chain twisted upward into the shadows, concealing the hidden mechanism of the poison-snooper, a silent sentinel standing guard against unseen threats. In the hushed stillness of the dining hall, every detail seemed to whisper of secrets and hidden dangers, casting a pall over the nearby gathering.

As the Duke paused in the doorway, his gaze swept over the meticulously arranged dining hall, his thoughts drifting to the significance of the poison-snooper in their society. It was a stark reminder of the ever-present danger lurking beneath the facade of civility—a reminder that treachery and deceit were woven into the very fabric of their existence.

      "All of a pattern," he mused inwardly. The precise terminology for administering poison—chaumurky or chaumas—served as a chilling testament to the depths of human depravity.

Shaking his head slightly, the Duke's attention was drawn to the flagons of water placed beside each plate on the long table. There was an abundance of water, he noted with a hint of irony, enough to sustain a poor Arrakeen family for more than a year. It was a stark contrast to the parched desert landscape beyond the walls of the great house.

Flanking the doorway were ornate laving basins, their yellow and green tiles gleaming in the lamplight. It was a customary ritual for guests to ceremoniously cleanse their hands upon entering, a symbolic gesture of purification before partaking in the evening's feast. Yet, the Duke couldn't help but feel a pang of disgust at the thought of the beggars who would gather outside after the dinner, hoping to collect the discarded water-soaked towels—a reminder of the callous indifference of the Harkonnen overlords.

      "How typical of a Harkonnen fief," Leto thought bitterly, his jaw tightening with resolve. "Every degradation of the spirit that can be conceived."

With a clenched jaw and a furrowed brow, he drew in a deep breath, the tendrils of rage coiling tightly in the pit of his stomach like a vise. "The custom stops here," he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice a low growl of defiance that reverberated through the air like a thunderclap.

      "Lost in thought?"

The slightly raspy voice pulled the Duke from his reverie, and he turned around to find Madhavi standing there, her silhouette softened by the dim light of the room. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips at her question, the sense of déjà-vu not lost on him.

      "Always hiding in the darkness, huh?" he replied with a hint of amusement, though beneath the light banter lay a well of introspection.

      "It seems to be the only place where one can find a moment's respite," she replied, her voice carrying a weight of contemplation.

Leto nodded in agreement, acknowledging the truth in her words.

      "Indeed," he murmured, his gaze drifting towards the distant glimmer of light filtering through the curtains. "But sometimes, it's the light that reveals more than we care to see."

The young Idaho's brows furrowed slightly, her expression thoughtful as she considered his words. Her mind briefly flickered back to the recent events, the near brush with death that had occurred not long ago. She shifted uncomfortably, the memories of the hunter-seeker and the Sardaukar still vivid in her mind.

      "Thank you," Duke Atreides' voice broke through her thoughts, his tone sincere as he addressed her. "For what you did for Paul. You saved his life."

Madhavi inclined her head, acknowledging his gratitude with a silent nod.

      "I also want to apologize for what happened with the mercenary," Leto continued, his voice tinged with regret. "We should have been more cautious. It was a mistake, one that nearly cost us dearly."

She noted his apology, though the young Idaho couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity at the lack of surprise for the attempted murder itself. It was as if the act had been deemed as a logical consequence of something she ignored.

The Duke's expression darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his features. "The prisoner," he replied tersely. "He somehow managed to escape from his cell."

The revelation sent a shiver down Madhavi's spine, the implications of the prisoner's escape weighing heavily on her mind. It was clear that they were not safe, not even within the confines of their own stronghold. Lady Jessica's words kept drumming in her mind as she processed the information.

"It is beyond you."

      "But I need you to do something for me," Leto said suddenly, drawing her attention back to the present. "I need you to go back to Caladan."

Her eyes widened in surprise at his request, confusion evident in her expression. "Go back to Caladan?" she echoed incredulously. "But why?"

      "There's a box," he explained cryptically. "I left it with someone in the city. I need you to retrieve it for me."

A whirlwind of questions swirled in Madhavi's mind, though she struggled to articulate the torrent of thoughts threatening to overwhelm her. "But why me?" she protested, her voice tinged with confusion. "And why now? And what's in the box?"

Leto's gaze softened, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes. "You'll know soon enough," he replied enigmatically.

      "And what about Count Fenring?" the young Idaho pressed, remembering the recent appointment of the Count as Siridar-Absentia of Caladan. "Won't he be overseeing matters there?"

The Duke's lips pressed into a thin line, a troubled furrow marring his brow. "Fenring... has his own responsibilities," he replied evasively.

Madhavi frowned, sensing that there was more to Leto's request than he was letting on.

. . .

MADHAVI GRIPPED THE CONTROLS OF THE SHIP WITH A STEADY HAND, her eyes focused intently on the viewscreen as Caladan came into view below. Despite not lacking of water within the walls of Arrakeen, it struck her to see those expanses of water calmly battering the shore.

It was a dream that a whole held in the recesses of their minds.

She scanned the coastline, searching for a secluded spot where she could safely land the ship without attracting unwanted attention. Caladan's lush landscape spread out beneath her, a patchwork of forests, rivers, and sprawling cities.

As she maneuvered the ship through the planet's atmosphere, Madhavi couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of Caladan. The vibrant hues of green and blue stretched out before her, a stark contrast to the harsh desert sands of Arrakis. She wondered if her mom got the chance to see her dream living out on another planet, so that hope for hers would never leave nor get forsaken.

With practiced precision, she guided the ship towards a remote stretch of coastline, hidden from prying eyes by towering cliffs and dense foliage. The roar of the ship's engines filled her ears as she descended towards the surface, her heart racing with anticipation. When the ship touched down on the sandy beach, Madhavi breathed a sigh of relief, her hands still trembling slightly from the adrenaline rush of the landing. She powered down the engines and stepped out onto the cold pebbles, taking a moment to survey her surroundings.

The air was thick with the scent of salt and seaweed, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air.

      "Madhavi, I was waiting for you."

. . .

RECLINING IN SOLITUDE WITHIN THE CONFINES OF HER CHAMBER, Madhavi's gaze fixated on the ethereal glow cast by the moon, its gentle beams painting her features with an otherworldly luminescence akin to the soft caress of dawn's dew. The weight of recent events pressed heavily upon her mind, weaving a tapestry of uncertainty and apprehension that seemed to ensnare her every thought.

In the span of mere weeks, her existence had been thrust into a maelstrom of turmoil—the ceaseless onslaught of visions, the harrowing brush with assassination, the haunting specter of her mother's memory, and the enigmatic presence of Paul. Try as she might to divert her mind from his image, his presence loomed large in her consciousness, an enigma she could not ignore.

She had made a solemn vow to his father, a promise that now seemed both sacred and impossibly daunting. How could she fulfill her pledge when the future loomed before her as an unfathomable abyss, its depths shrouded in uncertainty and trepidation?

Would the coming dawn bring her salvation or seal her fate?

Would Paul emerge as her savior or her executioner?

And what of the ever-watchful eyes of the Bene Gesserit, their shadowy machinations lurking in the periphery of her consciousness like silent sentinels?

The cacophony of questions echoed relentlessly within her mind, each inquiry a haunting refrain that reverberated through the corridors of her soul. Yet, amid the tumult of uncertainty, one truth remained immutable—the inexorable march of time, its relentless advance leaving her adrift in a sea of doubt and indecision.

Life, she mused bitterly, was akin to a capricious game of chance, its rules dictated by the whims of fate and fortune. The first to finish often found themselves at the back of the line, the certainties they clung to revealed as naught but fleeting illusions. What they believed to be true could crumble in an instant, and the very essence of their being might prove to be a mirage.

Lost in contemplation, Madhavi's gaze drifted from the stolid expanse of the ceiling to the twinkling lights beyond her windowpane. A flicker of curiosity stirred within her as she pondered the source of the distant illumination. Surely Gurney wasn't conducting late-night drills for his men, she mused, a faint sigh escaping her lips as she entertained the notion.

Tick tock.

With languid movements, she made her way to the window, drawn by the allure of the mysterious glow beckoning from afar. Peering out into the darkness, she strained to discern the origin of the enigmatic light, her brow furrowing in consternation as she found nothing but an eerie, pulsating glow in the distance.

A sense of unease gnawed at her insides, compelling her to action. Hastily, she dressed and made her way towards the door, her footsteps quickening with each passing moment. Yet, as she reached for the handle, a stifled gasp escaped her lips, her heart lurching within her chest at the sight before her.

The lifeless forms of the guards lay sprawled across the threshold, their eyes vacant and their limbs twisted in unnatural repose. Panic seized her heart as she beheld the crimson inscription emblazoned upon her door, its ominous words sending a shiver down her spine.

Possession of the Emperor.

A wave of terror washed over her, rendering her momentarily speechless as the gravity of the situation dawned upon her. Every instinct screamed for her to flee, to seek refuge from the unseen threat lurking in the shadows.

But before she could react, a voice, low and chilling, pierced the silence, sending a jolt of fear coursing through her veins.

      "Saint, why are you running?"

Madhavi startled, her breath catching in her throat as the hooded figure materialized beside her, their presence looming ominously in the dim light. With trembling hands, she reached for her weapon, her mind racing with a flurry of conflicting emotions. The hooded person's limping gait quickly made her realize who it was, making her grumble under her breath.

      "I should have killed you," she muttered through clenched teeth, her voice tinged with bitterness.

With a steely resolve, Madhavi refused to succumb to the element of surprise, determined not to meet her end at the hands of a mere mercenary. This time, she seized the initiative, launching herself at her assailant with a fierce determination that brooked no hesitation. If they sought to claim her life, they would have to confront her head-on.

Blow after blow, she pressed the attack, driving the assassin back with a barrage that left him struggling to defend himself, his injured leg hampering his movements. With each strike, she pushed him further, relentlessly exploiting his weakness until she finally managed to reopen his wound, causing him to falter and collapse against the unforgiving surface of the wall, his breath ragged and labored.

      "Saint," he rasped, his gaze meeting hers with a wicked glint of defiance, "You never killed a man."

The young Idaho regarded him coolly, her expression unreadable as she contemplated his words. Then, she subtly tilted her head.

      "That's true... I was only waiting to kill men like you," she declared, punctuating her words with a sharp jab to his ribs before withdrawing her weapon. A single drop of crimson splattered onto the ground, the only sound in the room, a deafening silence that echoed with the weight of her actions.

In that moment, Madhavi confronted the harsh reality of her choices, grappling with the weight of the life she had taken. Yet, amidst the turmoil of her emotions, a sense of grim acceptance settled over her, a solemn acknowledgment of the sacrifices demanded by the cruel whims of fate.

In life, you have to learn that sometimes you don't have a choice—it's either you, or others.

Tick Tock.

With a swift and decisive motion, she activated her Holztman shield, enveloping herself in its protective embrace before embarking on a desperate journey through the labyrinthine corridors of the palace, her senses alert for any sign of danger lurking in the shadows.

The muted glow of the dimmed lights did little to hinder her progress as she navigated the twisting passageways. With each step, the echoes of her footsteps reverberated like ominous drumbeats.

Finally, she reached the wing housing the ducal family quarters, her pulse quickening as she caught sight of a familiar figure standing amidst the shadows. "Leto?" she called out, her voice tinged with urgency as she approached him, her eyes scanning the scene before her with apprehension..

The man beside the fallen body of Shadout, the head maid, looked up at her, his expression grave as he gestured for her to approach swiftly. "What's going on?" she demanded, her voice trembling slightly with a mixture of fear and confusion.

      "We're under attack," he replied somberly, his words hanging heavily in the air as Madhavi's mind raced to process the dire situation unfolding around them. It was a chilling realization, one that sent a shiver down her spine as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

It had been a trap all along.

Sensing her Mentat calculations hindering her mind, Leto wasted no time in issuing his instructions, his hands gripping her shoulders firmly as he locked eyes with her. "Madhavi, listen to me," he began, his voice steady despite the chaos raging around them. "I need you to find Paul and get him to safety."

      "But Lady—" she started to protest.

      "Your father will handle it," Leto interjected firmly, cutting off her objections with a sense of unwavering resolve. There was no time for hesitation, no room for doubt.

With a sense of urgency gripping her heart, Madhavi nodded in silent acknowledgment, her mind already racing ahead to the task at hand. Time was of the essence, and the ominous sound of approaching footsteps served as a grim reminder of the perilous stakes they faced.

      "I'm not leaving you here," Madhavi declared, her voice firm and unwavering as she rose to her feet, her gaze fixed squarely on Leto with a resolute determination.

Leto regarded the young woman with a mixture of admiration and concern, recognizing the fierce loyalty that burned within her. He had always seen her as a daughter figure, a testament to her unwavering commitment to the Atreides cause. Yet, in that moment, he couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for instilling such loyalty in her―for it was a quality that could prove to be her downfall.

      "Madi—" Leto began.

      "No, I'm not going to leave you in this fucking place," Madhavi interrupted, her words laced with frustration. "Not when it's clear that these fucking Harkonnens have allied themselves with the Emperor-"

      "That's an order," Leto interjected firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Madhavi recoiled slightly, taken aback by the authoritative tone in Leto's voice. An order? He was ordering her to leave him behind?

      "I can't—" she protested, her mind racing as she grappled with the weight of Leto's command. Every fiber of her being rebelled against the idea of abandoning him in his hour of need. But as she met Leto's unwavering gaze, she realized that there was no room for sentimentality in their current predicament.

Slowly, reluctantly, she closed the distance between them, enveloping Leto in a tight embrace as they shared a silent moment of farewell. A solitary tear escaped her eye.

      "You are much stronger than you think, Madhavi," Leto whispered, his voice filled with conviction as he held her close. "Never forget that."

Strength only brings trouble.

Swallowing hard, Madhavi nodded, her stomach churning at the suffocating stench of death that permeated the air. She avoided meeting Leto's eyes, unable to bear the weight of the unspoken words that lingered between them.

With one last glance over her shoulder, Madhavi darted down the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps softly echoing in the eerie silence of the night.

Tick Tock.

As she reached Paul's door, Madhavi hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. With a shaky breath, she pushed open the door without bothering to knock, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of movement. To her surprise, Paul lay asleep amidst the chaos that raged outside, his features relaxed in peaceful slumber.

      "Atreides, get up," Madhavi urged, her voice tinged with a sense of urgency as she crossed the room in quick strides.

There was no response, and anger welled up within Madhavi, mingling with the fear that gnawed at the edges of her mind. She shook Paul's shoulder with increasing force, her voice rising in frustration.

      "You really have a knack for not doing anything through the worst of times, Atreides," she muttered, her tone laced with a mixture of exasperation and concern. "Wake the hell up."

Saint, the boy has made you change of path.

Two birds with one stone, right?

Tick Tock.

IZIA'S NOTE

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