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- Фрэнк Герберт
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The
Baron
snapped
his
fingers
.
“
Nefud
,
you
wish
to
be
restored
to
my
good
graces
?
”
“
Sire
,
what
have
I
done
?
”
Nefud
quavered
.
“
That
’
s
unimportant
now
,
”
the
Baron
said
.
“
Feyd
has
beaten
the
slavemaster
at
cheops
.
Did
you
hear
that
?
”
“
Yes
.
.
.
Sire
.
”
“
I
wish
you
to
take
three
men
and
go
to
the
slavemaster
,
”
the
Baron
said
.
“
Garrote
the
slavemaster
.
Bring
his
body
to
me
when
you
’
ve
finished
that
I
may
see
it
was
done
properly
.
We
cannot
have
such
inept
chess
players
in
our
employ
.
”
Feyd
-
Rautha
went
pale
,
took
a
step
forward
.
“
But
,
Uncle
,
I
—
”
“
Later
,
Feyd
,
”
the
Baron
said
,
and
waved
a
hand
.
“
Later
.
”
The
two
guards
who
had
gone
to
the
Baron
’
s
quarters
for
the
slave
boy
’
s
body
staggered
past
the
antechamber
door
with
their
load
sagging
between
them
,
arms
trailing
.
The
Baron
watched
until
they
were
out
of
sight
.
Nefud
stepped
up
beside
the
Baron
.
“
You
wish
me
to
kill
the
slavemaster
,
now
,
my
Lord
?
”
