[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Duncan's breathing slowed, and his heart rate diminished.Maximize chi, hethought, visualizing the energy that flowed along precise paths in his body.Imust become a complete Swordmaster to defend my Duke -- not make a prettyperformance to please these instructors.Resser ceased scoring as Duncan danced away.The chi within him mounted,building pressure, waiting for the right moment to be released.Duncan focusedthe energy, aiming it.Now he was on the attack.He confused the lanky redhead with moves synthesizedfrom various fighting disciplines.He whirled, kicked, used his free hand as aweapon.They both staggered outside the boundaries of the fencing area, thenback into the rectangle.Duncan attacked again.A fist to the side of Resser'shead, knocking off the feathered cap, a kick to the stomach -- all withoutdrawing blood.Stunned, Resser thudded to the floor.Duncan knocked his rival's sword away andleaped on top of him, placing the tip of his own blade at the Grumman's throat.Victory!"Gods below! What are you doing?" Swordmaster Bludd shoved Duncan off Resser."You clod!" He grabbed the flexible sword away, and slapped Duncan twice acrossthe face."This isn't a street brawl, fool.We're doing musketeer fencingtoday.Are you an animal?"Duncan rubbed his face where he'd been struck.In the heat of combat he hadfought for survival, ignoring the frivolous restrictions imposed by theinstructor.Bludd slapped Duncan several more times, harder each time, as if the student hadpersonally insulted him.In the background, Resser kept saying, "It's all right-- I'm not hurt.He bested me, and I couldn't defend myself." Humiliated,Duncan backed away.Bludd's rage did not subside."You may think you're the best student in theclass, Idaho -- but you're a failure in my eyes."Duncan felt like a small child being backed into a corner by an adult with astrap.He wanted to fight back, wanted to stand up to this ridiculous-lookingman, but didn't dare.He recalled the ill-tempered Trin Kronos using the same reasoning with fatSwordmaster Rivvy Dinari.If you are bound by nonsensical strictures, you'll bebeaten by any opponent willing to bend the rules.His primary purpose was todefend his Duke against any possible threat, not to play fencing games incostumes."Think about why you're a failure," Whitmore Bludd thundered, "and then explainit to me."Tell that to the dead soldiers on the losing side.Duncan thought hard.He did not want to echo the shameful thinking of thespoiled Kronos, though it made more sense than he had realized before.Rulescould be interpreted differently, depending on the purpose they served.In somesituations there was no absolute good or evil, simply points of view.In anyevent, he knew what his instructor wanted to hear."I am a failure because my mind is imperfect."His answer seemed to surprise the muscular man, but a bemused smile graduallyformed on Bludd's face."Correct enough, Idaho," he said."Now get over therewith the other losers."Challenge: Time?Answer: A brilliant, many-faceted gem.Challenge: Time?Answer: A dark stone, reflecting no visible light.-Fremen wisdom, from The Riddle GameWITH HIS BALISET SLUNG by a leather strap over one shoulder, Rhombur Verniushiked down the steep zigzag trail to the bottom of the black cliff.CastleCaladan loomed high over the rock face, stretching toward the billowing cumulusclouds and the cerulean sky.A strong early-afternoon breeze caressed his face.Behind him, in one of those soaring Castle towers, his sister spent too muchtime brooding.As he paused to look back, he saw Kailea up there now, standingon her balcony.With forced cheer, he waved to her, but she did not respond.For months they had hardly spoken to one another.This time he shook his headand decided not to let her usual rebuff bother him.His sister's expectationsoutweighed her reality.It was a warm spring day, with gray gulls soaring on thermals over thewhitecaps.Like one of the poor village fishermen, Rhombur wore a short-sleevedblue-and-white-striped shirt, fishing dungarees, and a blue cap jammed over hisblond hair.Tessia sometimes walked along the shore with him, while other timesshe let him ponder by himself.With Kailea's dark moods in mind, the Ixian Prince descended a wooden stairwaythat cantilevered out over the cliff.He took care on the rough, moss-coveredsection of trail.It was a treacherous route, even in good weather: A carelessmisstep and he could tumble to the rocks below.Hardy green shrubs clung tocrevices on the sheer rock face, along with orange and yellow succulents.DukeLeto, like his father before him, preferred to leave the path essentiallynatural, with minimal maintenance."The life of a leader should not be toosoft," the Atreides men liked to say.Rather than discussing his concerns with Tessia, Rhombur decided to soothe histroubled spirits by spending time on a small boat, drifting alone and playingthe baliset.Not confident of his musical abilities, he preferred to practiceaway from the Castle anyway, where no critical ears could hear him.After traversing a black-shingle downslope to the main dock, he took a steepwooden stairway down to a finger pier where a white motorboat bobbed gently inthe waves.A purple-and-copper Ixian insignia marked the bow above letters thatnamed the craft after his missing father: Dominic.Each time Rhombur saw the name, he dreamed that his father might still be alive,somewhere in the Imperium.The Earl of House Vernius had disappeared -- andwith the passage of time all hope of locating him had faded.Dominic had neversent word, made no contact at all.He must be dead.Rhombur unslung the baliset and laid the instrument on the dock.A cleat on thestern of the boat was missing one bolt, so he climbed aboard and opened atoolbox in the cockpit, where he found another bolt and a ratchet to tighten itdown.He liked to maintain his own boat, and sometimes hours would pass as he workedon it, sanding, painting, lacquering, replacing hardware, installing newelectronics and fishing accessories.It was all so different from the pamperedlife he'd led on Ix.Now, as he stepped back onto the dock and made the simplerepair, Rhombur wished he could be the leader that his father had been.The chances of that seemed virtually nil.Though Rhombur had made efforts to help the mysterious rebels on Ix, he hadn'theard from them in over a year, and some of the weapons and explosives he'd senthad come back undelivered, despite bribes paid to transport workers.Even themost highly paid smugglers had been unable to infiltrate the material into thecavernous underground city.No one knew what was going on there.C'tair Pilru, his primary contact with thefreedom fighters, had fallen silent.Like Dominic himself, C'tair might bedead, the valiant struggle crushed with him.Rhombur had no way of knowing, nomeans of breaching the intense Tleilaxu security.Hearing footsteps on the dock, Rhombur was surprised to see his sisterapproaching.Kailea wore a showy dress of silver and gold; a ruby clasp securedher copper-dark hair.He noticed that both of her shins were red and bruised,and that the hem of her dress was soiled."I tripped on the trail," she admitted.She must have run after him, hurrying tocatch up."You don't often come down to the docks." He forced a smile."Would you liketo go out on the boat with me?"When Kailea shook her head, her curls bounced against her cheeks."I'm here toapologize, Rhombur.I'm sorry I've been so mean to you, avoiding you, hardlysaying anything at all.""And glaring at me," he added.Her emerald eyes flashed, before she caught herself and softened."That, too.""Apology accepted." He finished tightening down the cleat, then climbed backinto the cockpit of the Dominic to put the tools away [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]