bh.houseatreides-第91部分

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　This　weak　baby　would　never　suit　the　master　plan。　The　Sisterhood　had　already　discarded　her。　Perhaps　someday　the　child　could　be　raised　as　a　servant　or　cook　at　the　Mother　School；　but　she　would　never　achieve　anything　of　significance。　Anirul　rarely　looked　at　the　disappointing　infant　anyway；　and　it　received　little　attention　from　anyone。
　I　care　about　you；　Mohiam　thought；　then　chastised　herself　for　the　emotion。　Difficult　decisions　had　to　be　made；　prices　had　to　be　paid。　In　a　cold　wave；　memories　of　the　nightmare　vision　washed　over　her　again；　strengthening　her　resolve。
　Standing　over　the　child　in　the　nursery；　she　gently　massaged　its　neck　and　temple。。。then　drew　back。　A　Bene　Gesserit　did　not　feel　or　show　love　　not　romantic　love；　not　familial　love；　emotions　were　considered　dangerous　and　unseemly。
　Once　again　blaming　the　chemical　changes　in　her　pregnant　body；　Mohiam　tried　to　make　sense　of　her　feelings；　to　reconcile　them　with　what　she　had　been　taught　all　her　life。　If　she　didn't　love　the　child。。。because　love　was　forbidden。。。then　why　not。。。She　swallowed　hard；　unable　to　form　the　horrible　thought　into　words。　And　if　she　did　love　this　baby　　against　all　dictates　　then　that　was　even　more　reason　to　do　what　she　was　about　to　do。
　Eliminate　the　temptation。
　Was　she　feeling　love　for　the　child；　or　just　pity？　She　didn't　want　to　share　these　thoughts　with　any　of　her　Sisters。　She　felt　shame　for　experiencing　them；　but　not　for　what　she　was　about　to　do。
　Move　quickly。　Get　it　over　with！
　The　future　demanded　that　Mohiam　do　this。　If　she　did　not　act　on　the　prescient　warning；　whole　planets　would　die。　This　new　child　would　be　a　daughter　with　an　immense　destiny；　and　to　ensure　that　destiny；　the　other　had　to　be　sacrificed。
　But　still　Mohiam　hesitated；　as　if　a　great　maternal　weight　restrained　her；　trying　to　hold　back　whatever　vision　had　driven　her。
　She　stroked　the　child's　throat。　Skin　warm。。。breathing　slow　and　regular。　In　the　shadows　Mohiam　couldn't　see　the　misshapen　facial　bones　and　sloping　shoulder。　The　skin　was　pale。。。the　baby　seemed　so　weak。　She　stirred　and　whimpered。
　Mohiam　felt　her　daughter's　breath　hot　against　her　hand。　Clenching　her　fist；　the　Reverend　Mother　worked　hard　to　control　herself　and　whispered；　〃I　must　not　fear。　Fear　is　the　mind…killer。　。　。〃　But　she　was　shaking。
　Out　of　the　corner　of　her　eye　she　saw　another　eye；　glowing　purple　to　pierce　the　darkness　of　the　nursery　room。　She　positioned　her　body　between　the　eye　and　the　child；　with　her　back　to　the　watchers。　She　looked　into　the　future；　not　at　what　she　was　doing。　Even　a　Reverend　Mother　sometimes　had　a　conscience。。。。
　Mohiam　did　what　the　dream　had　manded　her　to　do；　holding　a　small　pillow　over　the　child's　face　until　sound　and　movement　stopped。
　Finished；　still　shaking；　she　arranged　the　bedding　around　the　little　body；　then　positioned　the　dead　child's　head　on　the　pillow　and　covered　her　tiny　arms　and　deformed　shoulder　with　a　blanket。　Suddenly　she　felt　very；　very　old。　Ancient　beyond　her　years。
　It　is　done。　Mohiam　rested　the　palm　of　her　right　hand　on　her　swollen　belly。　Now　you　must　not　fail　us；　daughter。
　One　who　rules　assumes　irrevocable　responsibility　for　the　ruled。　You　are　a　husbandman。　This　demands；　at　times；　a　selfless　act　of　love　which　may　be　amusing　only　to　those　you　rule。
　…DUKE　PAULUS　ATREIDES
　In　the　Plaza　de　Toros；　up　in　the　spectacular　box　seats　reserved　for　House　Atreides；　Leto　chose　a　green…cushioned　chair　beside　Rhombur　and　Kailea。　The　Lady　Helena　Atreides；　who　had　no　fondness　for　such　public　displays；　was　late　arriving。　For　the　occasion　Kailea　Vernius　wore　silks　and　ribbons；　colorful　veils；　and　a　lush；　flowing　gown　that　Atreides　seamstresses　had　made　specially　for　her。　Leto　thought　she　was　breathtaking。
　The　gloomy　skies　did　not　threaten　rain；　but　the　temperature　remained　cool　and　the　air　damp。　Even　from　up　here　he　could　smell　the　dust　and　old　blood　in　the　bullring；　the　packed　bodies　of　the　populace；　the　stone　of　the　pillars　and　benches。
　In　a　grand　pronouncement　carried　by　the　news　crier　network　all　over　Caladan；　Duke　Paulus　Atreides　had　dedicated　this　bullfight　to　the　exiled　children　of　House　Vernius。　He　would　fight　in　their　honor；　symbolizing　their　struggle　against　the　illegal　takeover　of　Ix　and　the　blood　price　that　had　been　placed　on　their　parents；　Earl　Dominic　and　Lady　Shando。
　Beside　Leto；　Rhombur　leaned　forward　eagerly；　his　square　chin　on　his　hands　as　he　gazed　down　at　the　packed　sand　of　the　bullring。　His　blond　hair　had　been　bed　and　cut；　but　somehow　it　still　looked　mussed。　With　tremendous　anticipation　and　some　concern　for　the　safety　of　the　Old　Duke；　they　waited　for　the　paseo；　the　introductory　parade　that　would　precede　the　fight　itself。
　Colorful　banners　hung　in　the　humid　air；　along　with　Atreides　hawk　pennants　over　the　royal　box。　In　this　case；　however；　the　leader　of　House　Atreides　was　not　in　his　prime　seat；　he　was　out　in　the　arena；　as　performer　rather　than　spectator。
　All　around　them；　the　Plaza　de　Toros　was　filled　with　the　humming；　chattering　sounds　of　thousands　of　spectators。　People　waved　and　cheered。　A　local　band　played　balisets；　bone　flutes；　and　brassy　wind　instruments　　energetic　music　that　heightened　the　mood　of　excitement。
　Leto　looked　around　the　guarded　stands；　listening　to　the　music　and　the　happy　noises　of　the　crowd。　He　wondered　what　could　be　taking　his　mother　so　long。　Soon；　people　would　notice　her　absence。
　Finally；　with　a　flurry　of　female　attendants；　the　Lady　Helena　arrived；　moving　through　the　throng。　She　walked　smoothly；　head　held　high；　though　her　face　carried　shadows。　The　ladies…in…waiting　left　her　at　the　doorway　to　the　ducal　box　and　returned　to　their　assigned　seats　in　the　lower　level。
　Without　speaking　a　word　to　her　son　or　even　looking　at　his　guests；　Helena　settled　herself　in　the　tall　carved　chair　beside　the　empty　post　where　the　Duke　sat　on　those　occasions　when　he　watched　the　matadors。　She　had　gone　to　the　chapel　an　hour　beforehand　to　mune　with　her　God。　Traditionally；　the　matador　was　supposed　to　spend　time　in　religious　contemplation　before　his　fight；　but　Duke　Paulus　was　more　concerned　with　testing　his　equipment　and　exercising。
　〃I　had　to　pray　for　your　father　to　be　saved　from　his　stupidity；〃　she　murmured；　looking　at　Leto。　〃I　had　to　pray　for　all　of　us。　Someone　has　to。〃
　Smiling　tentatively　at　his　mother；　Leto　said；　〃I'm　sure　he　appreciates　it。〃
　She　shook　her　head；　sighed；　and　looked　down　into　the　arena　as　a　loud　fanfare　of　trumpets　played；　sounds　that　blasted　and　overlapped　in　resonating　echoes　from　speakers　encircling　the　Plaza　de　Toros。
　Stableboys　jogged　around　the　ring　in　unaccustomed　finery；　waving　bright　flags　and　pennants　as　they　rushed　across　the　packed　sand。　Moments　later；　in　a　grand　entrance　that　he　performed　so　exquisitely；　Duke　Paulus　Atreides　rode　out；　sitting　high　on　a　groomed　white　stallion。　Green　plumes　rose　from　the　animal's　headdress；　while　ribbons　trailed　from　the　horse's　mane　to　flow　back　around　the　rider's　arms　and　hands。
　Today；　the　Duke　wore　a　dashing　black…and…magenta　costume　with　sequins；　a　brilliant　emerald　sash；　and　a　matador's　traditional　hat；　marked　with　tiny　Atreides　crests　to　indicate　the　number　of　bulls　he　had　killed。　Ballooning　sleeves　and　pantaloons　concealed　the　apparatus　of　his　protective　body…shield。　A　brilliant　purple　cape　draped　over　his　shoulders。
　Leto　scanned　the　figures　below；　trying　to　pick　out　the　face　of　the　stableboy　Duncan　Idaho；　who　had　so　boldly　positioned　himself　working　for　the　Duke。　He　should　have　been　part　of　the　paseo；　but　Leto　didn't　see　him。
　The　white　stallion　snorted　and　cantered　around　in　a　circle　as　Paulus　raised　his　gloved　hand　to　greet　his　subjects。　Then　he　stopped　in　front　of　the　ducal　box　and　bowed　deeply　to　his　wife；　who　sat　rigid　in　her　chair。　As　expected；　she　waved　a　blood…red　flower　and　blew　him　a　kiss。　The　people　shouted　and　cheered　as　they　imagined　fairy　tales　of　romance　between　their　Duke　and　his　Lady。
　Rhombur　hunched　forward　on　his　plush　but　unfortable　seat；　smiling　at　Leto。　〃I've　never　seen　anything　like　this。　I；　uh；　can't　wait。〃
　INSIDE　THE　STABLES；　behind　force…field　bars；　the　chosen　Salusan　bull　issued　a　muffled　bellow　and　charged　against　the　wall。　Wood　splintered。　The　reinforced　iron　supports　screeched。
　Duncan　scrambled　backward；　terrified。　The