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- Стр. 868/972
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In
a
rush
of
loneliness
,
Paul
glanced
around
the
room
,
noting
how
proper
and
on
-
review
his
guards
had
become
in
his
presence
.
He
sensed
the
subtle
,
prideful
competition
among
them
—
each
hoping
for
notice
from
Muad
’
Dib
.
Muad
’
Dib
from
whom
all
blessingsflow
,
he
thought
,
and
it
was
the
bitterest
thought
of
his
life
.
They
sense
that
I
must
take
the
throne
,
he
thought
.
But
they
cannot
know
I
do
it
to
prevent
the
jihad
.
Stilgar
cleared
his
throat
,
said
:
“
Rabban
,
too
,
is
dead
.
”
Paul
nodded
.
Guards
to
the
right
suddenly
snapped
aside
,
standing
at
attention
to
open
an
aisle
for
Jessica
.
She
wore
her
black
aba
and
walked
with
a
hint
of
striding
across
sand
,
but
Paul
noted
how
this
house
had
restored
to
her
something
of
what
she
had
once
been
here
—
concubine
to
a
ruling
duke
.
Her
presence
carried
some
of
its
old
assertiveness
.
Jessica
stopped
in
front
of
Paul
,
looked
down
at
him
.
She
saw
his
fatigue
and
how
he
hid
it
,
but
found
no
compassion
for
him
.
It
was
as
though
she
had
been
rendered
incapable
of
any
emotion
for
her
son
.
Jessica
had
entered
the
Great
Hall
wondering
why
the
place
refused
to
fit
itself
snugly
in
to
her
memories
.
It
remained
a
foreign
room
,
as
though
she
had
never
walked
here
,
never
walked
here
with
her
beloved
Leto
,
never
confronted
a
drunken
Duncan
Idaho
here
—
never
,
never
,
never
.
.
.
.
There
should
be
a
word
-
tension
directly
opposite
to
adab
,
the
demanding
memory
,
she
thought
.
There
should
be
a
word
for
memories
that
deny
themselves
.
“
Where
is
Alia
?
”
she
asked
.
“
Out
doing
what
any
good
Fremen
child
should
be
doing
in
such
times
,
”
