"Frank Herbert - Dune 1 - Dune (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert Brian & Frank)

"My Lord . . . " She broke off, hesitating.
"Yes?"
He will not be persuaded against trying to make this planet secure for us, she thought. And I
cannot use my tricks on him.
"At what time will you be expecting dinner?" she asked.
That's not what she was going to say, he thought. Ah-h-h-h, my Jessica, would that we were
somewhere else, anywhere away from this terrible place -- alone, the two of us, without a care.
"I'll eat in the officers' mess at the field," he said. "Don't expect me until very late. And
. . .ah, I'll be sending a guardcar for Paul. I want him to attend our strategy conference."
He cleared his throat as though to say something else, then, without warning, turned and
strode out, headed for the entry where she could hear more boxes being deposited. His voice
sounded once from there, commanding and disdainful, the way he always spoke to servants when he
was in a hurry: "The Lady Jessica's in the Great Hall. Join her there immediately."
The outer door slammed.


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Jessica turned away, faced the painting of Leto's father. It had been done by the famed
artist, Albe, during the Old Duke's middle years. He was portrayed in matador costume with a
magenta cape flung over his left arm. The face looked young, hardly older than Leto's now, and
with the same hawk features, the same gray stare. She clenched her fists at her sides, glared at
the painting.
"Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!" she whispered.
"What are your orders, Noble Born?"
It was a woman's voice, thin and stringy.
Jessica whirled, stared down at a knobby, gray-haired woman in a shapeless sack dress of
bondsman brown. The woman looked as wrinkled and desiccated as any member of the mob that had
greeted them along the way from the landing field that morning. Every native she had seen on this
planet, Jessica thought, looked prune dry and undernourished. Yet, Leto had said they were strong
and vital. And there were the eyes, of course -- that wash of deepest, darkest blue without any
white -- secretive, mysterious. Jessica forced herself not to stare.
The woman gave a stiff-necked nod, said: "I am called the Shadout Mapes, Noble Born. What are
your orders?"
"You may refer to me as 'my Lady,' " Jessica said. "I'm not noble born. I'm the bound
concubine of the Duke Leto."
Again that strange nod, and the woman peered upward at Jessica with a sly questioning,
"There's a wife, then?"
"There is not, nor has there ever been. I am the Duke's only . . . companion, the mother of
his heir-designate."
Even as she spoke, Jessica laughed inwardly at the pride behind her words. What was it St.
Augustine said? she asked herself. "The mind commands the body and it obeys. The mind orders
itself and meets resistance." Yes -- I am meeting more resistance lately. I could use a quiet
retreat by myself.
A weird cry sounded from the road outside the house. It was repeated: "Soo-soo-Sook! Soo-soo-
Sook!" Then: "Ikhut-eigh! Ikhut-eigh!" And again: "Soo-soo-Sook!"
"What is that?" Jessica asked. "I heard it several times as we drove through the streets this
morning."
"Only a water-seller, my Lady. But you've no need to interest yourself in such as they. The