Navigators of Dune

The future was so uncertain, the weight so heavy on his heart. How Manford wished that wise Rayna were still here to lead the movement! Oh, he had loved her so! He felt warm tears trickle down his cheeks.

Anari Idaho, his fiercely loyal Swordmaster, noticed the tears and stepped closer, concerned. She would have thrown herself in front of any enemy for Manford, would have given her life to save his. Now she seemed just as willing to defend him against his own emotions.

Anari was a large-framed woman trained among the Swordmasters of Ginaz; for years she had tended him in his simple fieldstone cottage on Lampadas. The interior walls had been fitted with bars and handholds, so Manford could move himself around with his strong upper body. Whenever he wished to present an imposing figure to large cheering crowds, or to his enemies, he would ride in a harness on Anari’s shoulders. From that perch, Manford did not feel less than a man; instead he seemed the most powerful person in the Imperium.

His Truthsayer, Sister Woodra, came to speak to him, but she blurted out her business concerns without noticing his heavy mood. “Emperor Roderick still thinks we are responsible for the disappearance of his sister after we overran the Mentat School.” Her voice had an annoying edge. “You should convince him otherwise, Leader Torondo. Anna Corrino must have escaped somehow.”

“We had nothing to do with her disappearance, whether or not the Emperor believes it.” Manford suspected the flighty girl had been devoured by a swamp dragon as she tried to flee the siege. “Fortunately, the Emperor’s anger has turned toward Josef Venport. I’m not worried.” Manford could not help but think it was a miracle in disguise.

“Perhaps,” Anari said, “but he will never forget his daughter was killed by a Butlerian mob. He will have enough anger for us.”

“That was an accident, nothing more,” Woodra said dismissively, as if she thought the matter was ended. “We cannot be blamed for that.”

“And yet, he will blame us regardless,” Anari said.

“Alliances can shift again,” Manford said. “Roderick Corrino must be made to see his true destiny as our ally—preferably through reasonable appeals, but by coercion if necessary.”

Sister Woodra brought out logbooks and lists that she wished to discuss in detail, but Manford did not have the energy for it at this hour. Sensing her master’s weariness, Anari shot Woodra a scolding glance. “That is enough business for now. Manford needs to rest and contemplate. Otherwise, how can we expect him to lead us?”

The brusque Truthsayer sniffed at the implied dismissal. “The success of our movement depends upon details as well as strong leadership. And we must make time for the details.”

Woodra had been trained among the Sisterhood before the terrible schism that tore the school apart. He knew Woodra was as vehemently against technology as any of his followers, and she had also proved to be a useful asset, not only as a Truthsayer, but as an adviser. She was blunt, however, and lacked finesse; sometimes Manford found her exhausting. Right now, he was too preoccupied, no matter how much she insisted. “Anari is correct. I’m weary. Take me to my bedchamber.”

The Swordmaster picked him up as if he were a pet and plodded toward his private rooms, where she placed him in an austere, narrow bed. She opened the window to let in the fresh night air.

Outside, Empok, the capital city of Lampadas, sparkled with warm orange lights in the countless simple buildings. Insects made quiet songs, and the planet seemed deceptively peaceful as Manford composed himself for a contemplative sleep. Until a thundering roar shattered the darkness.

Heavy objects screamed down through the atmosphere, wreathed in the flames of deceleration. Three projectiles struck the ground outside of Empok.

Anari shouted in alarm and burst into the bedchamber to protect him.

People streamed out of their homes to investigate the disturbance, then howled in alarm. The three impact sites simmered ominously, lit by afterglows of white and orange and highlighted by angular shadows. Shielded pods split open like the jagged petals of armored flowers, then mechanical forms emerged. Heavy piston-driven legs lifted weapon-studded body cores, each containing a disembodied human brain. Three towering cymeks began to march on the city.

As Anari swept Manford out of the bed, he saw the distant movement through the window, and knew his enemies were coming for him.

Seizing him, the Swordmaster said, “I will save you.”