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- Фрэнк Герберт
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- Стр. 618/972
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Feyd
-
Rautha
grinned
,
offered
now
the
long
blade
,
the
one
with
the
poison
.
“
Try
this
on
,
”
he
said
,
and
feinted
with
the
short
blade
in
his
other
hand
.
The
slave
shifted
knife
hands
,
turned
inside
both
parry
and
feint
to
grapple
the
na
-
Baron
’
s
short
blade
—
the
one
in
the
white
gloved
hand
that
tradition
said
should
carry
the
poison
.
“
You
will
die
,
Harkonnen
,
”
the
gladiator
gasped
.
They
struggled
sideways
across
the
sand
.
Where
Feyd
-
Rautha
’
s
shield
met
the
slave
’
s
halfshield
,
a
blue
glow
marked
the
contact
.
The
air
around
them
filled
with
ozone
from
the
field
.
“
Die
on
your
own
poison
!
”
the
slave
grated
.
He
began
forcing
the
white
-
gloved
hand
inward
,
turning
the
blade
he
thought
carried
the
poison
.
Let
them
see
this
!
Feyd
-
Rautha
thought
.
He
brought
down
the
long
blade
,
felt
it
clang
uselessly
against
the
barbed
shaft
lashed
to
the
slave
’
s
arm
.
Feyd
-
Rautha
felt
a
moment
of
desperation
.
He
had
not
thought
the
barbed
shafts
would
be
an
advantage
for
the
slave
.
But
they
gave
the
man
another
shield
.
And
the
strength
of
this
gladiator
!
The
short
blade
was
being
forced
inward
inexorably
,
and
Feyd
-
Rautha
focused
on
the
fact
that
a
man
could
also
die
on
an
unpoisoned
blade
.
“
Scum
!
”
Feyd
-
Rautha
gasped
.
