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The
roll
of
thunder
boomed
long
after
.
“
The
voice
that
beautifies
the
land
,
”
Chani
said
.
More
of
his
men
were
stirring
out
of
their
tents
.
Guards
were
coming
in
from
the
rims
.
Everything
around
him
moved
smoothly
in
the
ancient
routine
that
required
no
orders
.
“
Give
as
few
orders
as
possible
,
”
his
father
had
told
him
.
.
.
once
.
.
.
long
ago
.
“
Once
you
’
ve
given
orders
on
a
subject
,
you
must
always
give
orders
on
that
subject
.
”
The
Fremen
knew
this
rule
instinctively
.
The
troop
’
s
watermaster
began
the
morning
chanty
,
adding
to
it
now
the
call
for
the
rite
to
initiate
a
sandrider
.
“
The
world
is
a
carcass
,
”
the
man
chanted
,
his
voice
wailing
across
the
dunes
.
“
Who
can
turn
away
the
Angel
of
Death
?
What
Shai
-
hulud
has
decreed
must
be
.
”
Paul
listened
,
recognizing
that
these
were
the
words
that
also
began
the
death
chant
of
his
Fedaykin
,
the
words
the
death
commandos
recited
as
they
hurled
themselves
into
battle
.
Will
there
be
a
rock
shrine
here
this
day
to
mark
the
passing
of
another
soul
?
Paul
asked
himself
.
Will
Fremen
stop
here
in
the
future
,
each
to
add
another
stone
and
think
on
Muad
’
Dib
who
died
in
this
place
?
