- She planned it. - How dare you! I'll dare quite a few things from now on, Mother. You've been quite adept at making decisions in my name... decisions which I've found extremely distasteful. You insolent bastard. Let's not discuss your weaknesses now, Mother. I forbid you to say another word. You forbid nothing. As heir to the throne of House Corrino, I am now the author of my own decisions. My mother is stripped of all accounts and privileges of the House Corrino. She is no longer sovereign regent of this family. She is, from this moment forward, banished. You're more of a man than I'd ever thought possible. And you can spend the rest of your days pondering that in utter darkness. Patience is a virtue I have in abundance, if you haven't noticed. Hold. Did you have anything to do with the death of my brother? I knew nothing of the plot against him until it was too late. Forgive me. I am at your mercy. This is my wedding present to you. I have nothing else. No dowry. Only the truth. I believe him. Take her. Leave him. Maybe he'll amuse us with more intrigue... and double-cross in the days to come. Don't you find it interesting, Jessica... how the sins of the mother bloom in the children they bear? She's weakened by madness. She still commands the imperial armies. They are retreating to the city... trapped by the shield wall from which they are vulnerable. They say the price on your head keeps going up. Then I say unto you... send men... to summon worms! Then let us go... to Arakeen... to collect it. Manut. A storm. Not a storm. - I must get word to the palace. - Yeah. There is no way... to hasten what is meant to be. When the time is right... he will find us. Who are you? Who I am doesn't matter anymore. It matters to me. Do you think I would have left this place if I had known? Do you think I would have abandoned you if I knew you were still alive? You did what you were meant to do. Tell me. Let me hear you say it. Tell me it isn't true. I couldn't live... if I knew I had forsaken you. Paul Atreides is no more, Gurney-Man. The desert winds have erased all trace of his passage here. And soon... Muad'Dib must follow. Please, Gurney, I'm tired... hungry. Get me some food. Ah, Stil. So predictable. It's as if they're daring you to confront them... challenging you to commit troops, thopters. They think I've retreated to the sanctuary of the city where I'm trapped. It's a tactic learned from my brother when he defeated Shaddam... and took backArrakis. Poor Stil. If you only knew it is you who are trapped... not I. They are still over a day's ride from Arakeen. Fine. I'm going back to the palace. I have a wedding to attend. Leave me. Do as I say! There's no need for that with me, Ghanima. Our plan worked. You're alive! I knew it. Oh, I have missed you. I'm sorry, Ghanima. I'm so sorry. I had to let you think that I was dead. It was the only way-- the only way that I could start what must now be finished. Idolaters! Blasphemers! You'll spoil this place! The desert will swallow you! His words are sacrilege. His presence must not be tolerated. You must give the order, Holy One. You must send us to take him. Caution, darling. Do not act impulsively. Not yet. He is an outrage to the religion of Muad'Dib. But that's the point, my darling. We must know for sure whether he really is your brother... mustn't we? It would not do to make a martyr of him just yet. Who is it that calls for Muad'Dib? Help us, Muad'Dib. Muad'Dib's words are the wind. They vanish... like water on the sand. I'll give you Muad'Dib's words. I'll rub your faces in them! I am the voice from the wilderness... and I bring you a warning. The water we spread upon the desert has become blood. Blood... upon the land which was once clean and pure. We have provoked the desert... forsaken its ways. We have succumbed
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