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- Фрэнк Герберт
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- Стр. 616/972
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He
knew
now
what
his
uncle
was
experiencing
,
sitting
up
there
with
the
Fenrings
,
the
observers
from
the
Imperial
Court
,
beside
him
.
There
could
be
no
interference
with
this
fight
.
The
forms
must
be
observed
in
front
of
witnesses
.
And
the
Baron
would
interpret
the
events
in
the
arena
only
one
way
—
threat
to
himself
.
The
slave
backed
,
holding
knife
in
teeth
and
lashing
the
barbed
shaft
to
his
arm
with
the
pennant
.
“
I
do
not
feel
your
needle
!
”
he
shouted
.
Again
he
crept
forward
,
knife
ready
,
left
side
presented
,
his
body
bent
backward
to
give
it
the
greatest
surface
of
protection
from
the
half
-
shield
.
That
action
,
too
,
didn
’
t
escape
the
galleries
.
Sharp
cries
came
from
the
family
boxes
.
Feyd
-
Rautha
’
s
handlers
were
calling
out
to
ask
if
he
needed
them
.
He
waved
them
back
to
the
pru
-
door
.
I
’
ll
give
them
a
show
such
as
they
’
ve
never
had
before
,
Feyd
-
Rautha
thought
.
No
tame
killing
where
they
can
sit
back
and
admire
the
style
.
This
’
ll
be
something
to
take
them
by
the
guts
and
twist
them
.
When
I
’
m
Baron
they
’
ll
remember
this
day
and
won
’
t
be
a
one
of
them
can
escape
fear
of
me
because
of
this
day
.
Feyd
-
Rautha
gave
ground
slowly
before
the
gladiator
’
s
crablike
advance
.
Arena
sand
grated
underfoot
.
He
heard
the
slave
’
s
panting
,
smelled
his
own
sweat
and
a
faint
odor
of
blood
on
the
air
.
