Navigators of Dune

Josef snapped, “Withdraw your ships and deactivate your weapons so that we can talk like two businessmen.”

“I am Emperor, and I am here to mete out justice. When will Anna become available?”

Josef tried not to speak an outright lie but could only come up with, “I cannot say.”

Sister Fielle interrupted, asking in a sharp tone, “Will she ever be able to speak with us?”

He tried to think of a way he could answer truthfully. “I won’t reveal more of my situation. Withdraw your ships, Sire.”

Roderick raised his voice in a demand. “Is my sister still alive?”

Josef’s pulse raced now. He felt his cheeks flush. Any answer would be a lie, and any hesitation would also reveal the truth. He reached forward to terminate the transmission just as Fielle turned to the Emperor. “Unfortunately, your sister is dead, Sire. Josef Venport’s behavior confirms it, beyond any doubt.”

Roderick’s face fell. His voice came out cold and hollow. “Damn you, Venport!”

Almost immediately, the bombardment began.

There are more ways to win a battle than anyone can teach you.

And even more ways to lose.

—VORIAN ATREIDES

Tula had been shot in the shoulder, and in Valya’s moment of sickened hesitation, Vor could have sprung at her and taken her down. Willem’s projectile weapon was pointed directly at the young woman’s head as she stood in front of him, holding a dagger, and bleeding. One twitch of his finger would kill her.

But Tula faced him, not blinking, not defiant, seemingly not even afraid. She waited with a certain courage and nobility, as if ready to accept her fate, whatever it might be. Yet only months ago she had committed a heinous, cowardly act by murdering Orry.

Watching the tableau, Valya froze in horror, obviously realizing that if she attacked Vorian now, then Willem would kill her sister. The pause was only a few seconds, but it seemed to stretch out forever. Vor sensed something unusual in the air, something unexpected. Was this hard and vengeful woman’s concern a reflection of her love for Tula? Was the Sisterhood’s leader even capable of such an emotion?

“If you wish to kill me, Willem Atreides, I cannot stop you,” Tula said, “and I understand why you’re doing it. The terrible pain of your loss justifies your revenge … just as the pain of Griffin’s loss justified our actions. No matter who killed him.”

The comment surprised Vor. The Harkonnens had been rationalizing their hatred toward him for generations, finding one reason after another to continue the feud against a straw man from the past. None of that, though, warranted the slaughter of an innocent young man on his wedding night, just because of his name.

“But if you kill me,” Tula continued with a ragged edge in her voice, “you’ll also be killing an Atreides. You see, I am carrying Orry’s child.”

Willem recoiled. “You’re lying!”

Vor felt a sick jolt. Was this a desperate trick to save her own life?

Valya looked at her sister in horror. “It can’t be true!”

Tula smiled sadly and shifted her body, causing her to wince in pain from the bleeding wound in her shoulder. She gazed at Valya and said, “But it is true, dear sister. I was actually fond of Orry, so even though I followed your command to murder him, I made love to him first.” Her voice hitched, but she forced herself to keep speaking. “When I returned to Wallach IX, you congratulated me for what I’d done … but you never met Orry, did you? You didn’t know him. I saw the obvious goodness in him. But even so, I did what you commanded me to do—for you and for House Harkonnen.”

“I refuse to believe this!” Valya stared at her sister in complete revulsion.

Vor felt no sympathy for the iron-handed Sisterhood leader, nor for gullible young Tula. All he could think of was the blood-spattered bed and the innocent, slaughtered Orry. “You didn’t show any regret when you scrawled your words on the wall in his blood.”

“Valya told me what to write,” Tula said. “I just delivered the message.”

Though Willem still pointed the projectile weapon at her, his hands trembled now. Tula continued to gaze at her sister, as if the young Atreides were not there at all. She pressed a hand against the ragged shoulder wound as she said, “Valya, you know I’m not lying when I say I am pregnant. And you know it is Orry’s child.”

Standing among the Sisters, Cindel nodded, but Valya did not even look in the Truthsayer’s direction. The Mother Superior was white, her eyes narrowed, her breathing fast. Vor thought she might even lash out and kill Tula herself—and he would have to stop her. Not to protect Tula … but for the baby. An Atreides baby.