Navigators of Dune

The dark-robed Sisters stood on a rocky promontory overlooking the fledgling Mother School complex. When the traitor Dorotea had pulled the rebellious faction together, she’d convinced her Orthodox followers to become schemers and spies, whisperers of clever and insidious disinformation, but she had not taught them to be aggressive fighters. Observing them closely, Valya saw that they possessed considerable potential. It would be a shame to kill them all.

Some of the Orthodox women proved to be more open-minded than Valya had anticipated, willing to learn new ways of thinking. Those who aligned themselves with the rest of the Sisterhood would not have to be discarded; provided they were sincere, she would welcome them fully into the order.

Others, though, were reluctant to give their allegiance to her, which she found disappointing, though not surprising. These last prodigal Sisters had to be retrained, or broken. Questionable loyalties created friction and vulnerabilities that Valya could not afford, especially now.

Her close ally Deborah, with her bony face and darting dark eyes, often reminded Valya of a bird. Her lean, angular frame did not carry an ounce of fat. She was a ruthless opponent in combat, skilled in virtually all of the techniques Valya had brought to the school.

As the training continued, Deborah called for a volunteer among the Orthodox Sisters. “I will demonstrate a new way of fighting to add to your repertoire. In extreme circumstances, you may need every weapon we can give you.”

Valya gazed out upon the assembled women, their hair flowing in a cool breeze on the promontory. She spoke up. “Think of the slaughter on Rossak. We must never let ourselves be helpless again.”

A slender woman stepped forward to volunteer, but a more muscular Sister pushed her aside. “No, I will do this.” Though she was only in her mid-thirties, Sister Ninke’s auburn hair was salted with gray. Ninke had once served with Valya as an assistant proctor under Mother Superior Raquella, before becoming one of Dorotea’s traitorous followers.

Now Ninke faced the Sorceress instructor with a confident expression, and Deborah nodded somberly. “I have observed you in training sessions, Ninke. You are at the peak of your physical skills, but you lack something important … the ability to be wary. Confidence can lead to weakness, and overconfidence leads to mistakes. Where are you on that spectrum of danger?”

Ninke rolled her eyes in disdain. “Shall I just stand here, or would you like me to go into a fighting stance?” She was trying to provoke Deborah.

The Sorceress instructor remained cool. “You seem unaware of the fact that every word you utter, every move you make, is filled with weakness. My method will enlighten you. Yes, go into your best fighting stance, and I will demonstrate its flaws.”

Ninke scowled at the verbal jab, but prepared for combat. Valya was quietly impressed with the way she held her body loose and poised, ready to leap in any direction. Ninke was fast—but not fast enough.

Deborah circled her practice foe, forcing Ninke to turn constantly to keep her instructor in sight. The Sorceress feinted to the right, which provoked a defensive move, and as Deborah drew back she did a smooth backward flip, followed by a quick forward flip, so that she stood a step closer to Ninke than before—all in a blur. Before Ninke could assess the new stance, the Sorceress repeated her movement, farther and faster this time, so that she landed behind Ninke and gave her a taunting slap on the shoulder.

Ninke whirled, but could not even glimpse her opponent. Deborah reached in and slapped the side of her head, moving so unexpectedly that Ninke could not follow her. Even observing, Valya could hardly keep track of the Sorceress. Deborah was so swift that she seemed to disappear entirely and then blur back into view.

Finally she stood behind Ninke again and said in a harsh voice, “Had we truly been fighting, I could have broken you with debilitating blows from any direction before you even knew where I was.”

Ninke nodded with growing anger. “This is like witchcraft.”

With a smile Deborah said, “Yes, our new fighting Way is witchcraft, and the most talented of you must master it—for the good of the Sisterhood. But our skills require tremendous concentration and force of will, along with abandoning the rules of motion that you previously thought you understood.”

Ninke seemed unwilling to accept her obvious lack of skill in comparison with her instructor. In training the intractable Orthodox Sisters, Valya had decided that one of them must serve as a prominent example, for the benefit of the rest. The intractable Esther-Cano had already been killed, but in private. Perhaps Ninke would be the example these others needed.

“Let me show you a simple technique of our Way,” Deborah said to the other trainees, and then she added to Ninke with a hint of scorn, “in slow motion this time, if that is what you require.”