-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнк Герберт
-
- Дюна
-
- Стр. 613/972
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
“
He
has
the
color
,
”
Feyd
-
Rautha
said
.
“
Yet
he
stands
like
a
fighter
,
”
said
another
helper
.
Feyd
-
Rautha
advanced
two
steps
onto
the
sand
,
studied
this
slave
.
“
What
has
he
done
to
his
arm
?
”
asked
one
of
the
distractors
.
Feyd
-
Rautha
’
s
attention
went
to
a
bloody
scratch
on
the
man
’
s
left
forearm
,
followed
the
arm
down
to
the
hand
as
it
pointed
to
a
design
drawn
in
blood
on
the
left
hip
of
the
green
leotards
—
a
wet
shape
there
:
the
formalized
outline
of
a
hawk
.
Hawk
!
Feyd
-
Rautha
looked
up
into
the
darkly
pitted
eyes
,
saw
them
glaring
at
him
with
uncommon
alertness
.
It
’
s
one
of
Duke
Leto
’
s
fighting
men
we
took
on
Arrakis
!
Feyd
-
Rautha
thought
.
No
simple
gladiator
this
!
A
chill
ran
through
him
,
and
he
wondered
if
Hawat
had
another
plan
for
this
arena
—
a
feint
within
a
feint
within
a
feint
.
And
only
the
slavemaster
prepared
to
take
the
blame
!
Feyd
-
Rautha
’
s
chief
handler
spoke
at
his
ear
:
“
I
like
not
the
look
on
that
one
,
m
’
Lord
.
Let
me
set
a
barb
or
two
in
his
knife
arm
to
try
him
.
”
“
I
’
ll
set
my
own
barbs
,
”
Feyd
-
Rautha
said
.
He
took
a
pair
of
the
long
,
hooked
shafts
from
the
handler
,
hefted
them
,
testing
the
balance
.
These
barbs
,
too
,
were
supposed
to
be
drugged
—
but
not
this
time
,
and
the
chief
handler
might
die
because
of
that
.
But
it
was
all
part
of
the
plan
.
