DUNE-A False Haderach-Ch.30 (Patreon)

Chapter 30

INZAL CORRINO

Deep under the castle at the center of Arrakeen was a prison, a place of sheer deprivation and cruelty. Before the ‘independence,’ it was known as Animal’s Layer, for this was the place where Rabban, the Baron’s nephew and governor of Arrakis, would bring the prisoners to be tortured for information or entertainment.

Inzal himself had broken out many a Fremen from this very place, had seen with his own eyes the depravation and cruelty carried out in these Halls, and yet no more.

Even now, as he walked through those very Halls, he could feel the sheer despondence of the place, could hear screams that no longer dominated the corridor, could feel the blood and depravity spread all over the Hall.

And yet there were no more screams, there were no more Fremen inside those prisons. Most of them were empty, with some filled with Harkonnen and Saradukar remnants, and there were few of both of those for various reasons.

Most of the Harkonnens had been killed during the assault; as for the Saradukar of the forces sent to attack the Atreides, he had killed most of them, with only a few units choosing to bend the knee as he revealed to them his true identity.

And yet they could not be trusted, so they were down here, and he could see their eyes following him as he walked past them, and he heard many of them salute to him as they recognized the most visible change in him.

For now, on his right hand was a ring carved out of white gold, embossed with a red jewel-shaped into the head of a lion. The sigil ring of House Corrino is worn by the Head of the House and the Emperor of the Imperium.

Though he was not here for them. No, he was here for someone else. He reached the largest cell in the prison, the only one with several guards around it, and as he gave them a nod, one of his men placed his hand on the pad beside it, and the glass covering the cell turned transparent to reveal a large white room with a single occupant.

Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was no longer dressed in his fine silks. His fingers had been cleared of all his ostentatious rings, and without his suspensers, the man could barely move and was confined to a single chair, on which he sat like an oversized whale.

His once clear face now had a massive scar running down on its side, and he had lost a couple of his teeth, making his smile crooked and broken.

“I was told that you wished to see me, Baron,” he began. There was no need for greetings, for neither wished each other well.

Inzal saw his eyes scan him over, examining him before they landed on the ring on his hand.

“So, you were after the throne after all?” the Baron began and for all his faults he was a political animal, and being in solitude for so long, he must have made some conjectures about Inzal.

“Really to outsmart both me and the Emperor, playing one house against another. You truly are Shaddam’s son,” he added with a chuckle before his eyes narrowed.

“But do you really think that keeping the throne is as easy as winning it? You are wrong. You have no idea of the powers that surround the throne and the games they play. You are an outsider, one that will never be accepted. Your allies will soon turn against you. All of them, except one,” and Inzal understood his offer.

He had to hand it to the man; he was smart, trying to offer his services, knowing that the very existence of his House now depended on him.

“I have no need of you, Baron. I understand plenty,” he rebuffed his offer, for he truly had no need of it. His alliances with the Atreides were more stable and solid than the Baron realized.

“Ohh, do you really think so?” the man taunted.

“If that is all you have to say, then I believe we are done here,” and with that, he turned his back once more.

“So, be it then,” he heard the Baron speak from behind.

“Under the laws of the Imperium, I issue the right of Kanly for the crimes of House Atreides against House Harkonnen,” and Inzal saw the man raise his hand.

“I nominate my nephew, the heir Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, as my blade,” he challenged, and Inzal was unbothered as he raised a brow and smirked.

“You would see your House ended, then so be it,” he replied with a smirk as the Baron raised his hand.

“May thy knife chip and shatter.”

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LADY JESSICA

One’s sins are not one’s own. The sin of a father is the sin of the clan. That was the basis of the right of kanly, a traditional rite that oversaw the right of dispute among Houses, and now that very right was being used against her own.

House Harkonnen had issued the right against House Atreides, and the challenge meant that no one from their House, a representative, must fight Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, a beast whose tales of savagery and cruelty were known even at Kaladan.

Duncan and Gurney had already put forward their names, though she knew that Paul did not wish to use them. But she would not let her son enter into the duel, no matter what it took, or she would not let him do so unless she was assured of his victory.

Inzal had been quiet on the matter as well, and she did not wish to lean onto him any more than they already had. Their alliance, for all its worth, had been rather one-sided until this point, and only as she utilized Leto’s connections to various Houses and called forth those alliances, she began to repay him by aligning all those Houses behind him.

And yet, for today she found herself infront of a simple room. A sense of nervousness bubbled in her and all those inside her as she stood outside the door of the woman she had once called mother, the woman who had made Jessica into Lady Jessica.

By her side stood Paul, the Reverend Mother, who had offered to step down, agreeing to yield her position to Jessica. Yet such a favor would come at a cost. She had desired to meet herself and her son.

And the circumstances reminded her of her last day on Kaladan, when she had come to her home to test her son. But much had changed since then, she was no longer Jessica, a sister of the Bene Gesserit and the mother of the ducal heir.

She was now a Reverend Mother and would soon enough be the Lady Jessica Atreides, the Duchess.

She took a step forward, and the doors slid open. The room was simple, reserved for guests, but had been turned into a sort of prison for the old woman sitting on a chair as her apprentices waited on her as she once did.

“Leave us,” Gaius Helen Mohaim ordered, and the apprentices left her side, leaving the room as the doors behind her slid close once more.

She could see her looking her over with those old eyes of hers as they moved from Paul to her and to Paul back again, until they finally landed on her swollen belly.

“Oh, my sweet child. What have you done?” she spoke in a concerned and motherly voice, and Jessica’s consciousness roared forth.

“Do you have any idea of the risk you have taken? Of the danger you have put the girl in your womb in,” she heard Allia ask why, and she quickly answered that she would have her answers soon.

“I did what I thought was necessary for my House and my family, and I regret none of it,” she said resolutely, and the woman shook her head.

“But you will, you will, my dear,” she said as her eyes turned towards Paul. She saw pity in those eyes.

“So much potential. So much power, and yet all of it being wasted. Tell me boy

“Tell me, have the Harkonnen called for the many?” and Jessica was surprised that she knew of that.

“They have,” Paul answered, and the older woman nodded.

“They would, of course they would, and now you plan to fight in this, I believe, Paul Atreides,” and she looked towards Paul as he nodded.

“I do,” she scoffed.

“There is a reason we do not admit men into our order. Your penchant for violence makes you unsuitable for governing. You only know of the blade to resolve your conflicts, and you are a boy with so much potential and power, yet you would walk towards your death because of your pride,” she said, remorseful about his decision.

“You think I cannot beat Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” he challenged, feeling insulted by those words.

“Tell me bo...”

“Silence!” and even she was taken aback by Paul’s words and anger, anger that seemed to bubble from inside him, and his son radiated power as he stood beside her.

“You dare insult me. I am not a boy. I am Paul Mu...” and his eyes became dazed at those unrecognizable words.

Gaius Helen Mohaim seemed taken aback as well, but she did not miss the subtle smile on her face as Paul’s slip, a slip that she could not make sense of.

“Yes, that power. I can see it now. You truly are the one. Alas, you will never truly reach your destiny, for that false abomination has neutered you,” he said, and she saw Paul frown.

“It seems you can see it as well, if only glimpses,” she said with a smile as she stood up and walked towards them, her motion slow and fluid.

“You know what is happening to me?” he asked, and she intervened; this was enough.

“This is enough,” she cut in, but Paul had stepped forward before she could do anything.

“Of course I do. You are beginning to awaken. The power inside you surges and is looking for release, answering your call for revenge....”

“ENOUGH!” she roared herself, using the voice, and the old woman became quiet.

And they both turned towards her.

“I will not have you sow discord among our ranks. We have done as you wished. You will step down now,” she said resolutely as Paul’s gaze narrowed, and the older woman shook her head.

“Your mother fears your powers. She fears the burden that they may bring, but you are ready for it, and if you are to emerge victorious from the kanly against Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, then you must embrace it and become the one who can be many places at once,” she said as she reached for the ring on her finger, the one signifying the dominion of Wallach 9, the planet where the Bene Gesserit orders Headquarters were situated.

“The Kwsatz Haderac...”

“That will be enough,” she said as she took the ring from her and turned back.

“Come, Paul, we are leaving,” she said, and she began to walk towards the door. Paul followed her as well.

“As you are now, you will not return alive from the kanly Paul Atreides,” Gaius Helen Mohaim called out from behind as the doors closed.

“Only by embracing your true self will you be victorious.”

And so that night, Paul Atreides found his sleep disturbed by visions of himself, living a life he had not. He found himself fighting the Harkonnens, becoming a Fremen, addressing what seemed to be a gathering of Fremen Naibs, saying the following words.

“I AM PAUL MUADIB ATREIDES! I AM LISAN AL GAIB AND I WILL POINT THE WAY!”

And with that, his eyes opened with a gasp. Sweat poured from his body as he sat up, his chest heaving, the memories of the dream vivid and haunting, even with his eyes now open as he found himself mouthing the strange word.

“Paul...Muadib...Lisan al Gaib.”

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