Navigators of Dune

Danvis watched her play the baliset for a long time and then blurted out, “I’m applying for a position in the Imperial Court.” The interruption made her falter on the strings of the instrument. He continued in a rush, “Valya used to tell me that she hoped I might do this someday, and I don’t want to let her down. I don’t want to let House Harkonnen down. It’s a great opportunity! Emperor Roderick is filling his staff with members of the Landsraad, and now that our family is stronger, we can regain the political ground we lost.”

Since their disgrace at the end of the Jihad, House Harkonnen had suffered hardship on top of hardship—which Valya blamed squarely on Vorian Atreides, although their standing had also fallen because of unwise commercial decisions their father had made. Thanks to a recent infusion of wealth from an unknown benefactor, their family was on solid financial footing again, but Valya had not forgotten her grudge against the Atreides—and she made sure her sister would never forget either.

“I’ve never been to the Imperial Court,” Tula responded to Danvis.

His eyes sparkled. “Won’t you tell me where you went instead?”

She concentrated on the baliset, generating a soft melody. “What does it matter? I’m here now, but I can’t stay on Lankiveil for long.”

Danvis looked disappointed. “Will you go back to the Sisterhood school?”

“No!” she answered, too quickly. Hadn’t she done enough? What was she to do now? If she returned to the Sisterhood, Valya would undoubtedly give her another murderous mission.… “Please don’t ask me any more questions. There are things I can’t share, not even with you.”

“You’re my sister. You shouldn’t need to hide anything from me.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t. But I still have to.”

Tula didn’t dare tell her brother what she had done, what Valya had forced her to do. She had been ruthless in her mission—Valya was proud of her—but ever since fleeing Caladan, Tula had discovered a surprising thing inside: her own conscience. During these days on Lankiveil, she was trying to remove the blindfold of Sisterhood programming.

She retuned to the baliset and began to play a song that the musicians on Caladan had performed for her wedding ceremony. She remembered gazing with well-masked hatred upon Vorian Atreides, who had not recognized her. And young Willem, who looked so proud to see his brother getting married. And Orry beside her … handsome, gullible Orry, intoxicated with love and stunned by his apparent good fortune. He had so looked forward to their wedding night—as had Tula, but for different reasons. Such a pity that he had to be an Atreides.

She recalled Orry talking about his dreams, his plans for their long life together. Tula had limited any discussion of their future, because she knew that the future held only death for Orry. She remembered the sweetness of his kisses, the beautiful time they had shared on their wedding night—before she’d stabbed him and slashed his throat, then bounded out through the night streets to hunt down Vorian Atreides as well. She had barely escaped Caladan with her life.

Now she was back in the shelter of her family, but she could not stay here. Vorian and Willem Atreides would surely track her down. Or Valya would. She didn’t know which of the two possibilities bothered her more.

Her mother emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “I made honeyflower pastries for dessert. Those were always your favorite.” Her mother smiled, but questions burdened her eyes.

Tula felt a wave of nostalgia. If only she could remain here and act like a child again, without a care in the world. “Thank you, Mother. That’s very kind.”

Since coming home, Tula had been curt with her mother, volatile enough that Sonia Harkonnen knew something was wrong. But Tula couldn’t explain anything to her, either.

Danvis jarred her from her thoughts. “You stopped playing.”

“What would you like to hear?”

He thought for a moment. “‘The Lost Whaler’s Song.’”

“That’s a sad one.”

When her brother shrugged, Tula realized that he was less familiar with sadness than she was. She envied Danvis for his comparative innocence. She had once felt satisfaction in knowing she had a purpose. But everything had changed.

She tried to remain calm, setting the baliset aside. She had been working on a decision in her mind. “I can’t stay here. I have to leave again and go far away.”

He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Are we in danger? Our family?”

She looked at him long and hard, surprised that he had sensed something. “Possibly. But far less than I am. Demons are chasing me, and I can’t get away from them if I stay here. They’ll find me.” She swallowed hard. “And Valya scares me too.”

Danvis looked disturbed, but she couldn’t reveal any details that would make it better for him. If she confessed what she had done in the name of House Harkonnen, her brother would be appalled; their parents would be horrified and ashamed of her. Better that she kept it all inside herself.