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- Фрэнк Герберт
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- Стр. 889/972
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Paul
stepped
out
of
his
stillsuit
,
slipped
the
crysknife
from
its
sheath
in
his
mother
’
s
hand
.
“
I
know
,
”
he
said
.
“
Poison
,
an
assassin
,
all
the
old
familiar
ways
.
”
“
You
promised
me
a
Harkonnen
!
”
Gurney
hissed
,
and
Paul
marked
the
rage
in
the
man
’
s
face
,
the
way
the
inkvine
scar
stood
out
dark
and
ridged
.
“
You
owe
it
to
me
,
m
’
Lord
!
”
“
Have
you
suffered
more
from
them
than
I
?
”
Paul
asked
.
“
My
sister
,
”
Gurney
rasped
.
“
My
years
in
the
slave
pits
—
”
“
My
father
,
”
Paul
said
.
“
My
good
friends
and
companions
,
Thufir
Hawat
and
Duncan
Idaho
,
my
years
as
a
fugitive
without
rank
or
succor
.
.
.
and
one
more
thing
:
it
is
now
kanly
and
you
know
as
well
as
I
the
rules
that
must
prevail
.
”
Halleck
’
s
shoulders
sagged
.
“
M
’
Lord
,
if
that
swine
.
.
.
he
’
s
no
more
than
a
beast
you
’
d
spurn
with
your
foot
and
discard
the
shoe
because
it
’
d
been
contaminated
.
Call
in
an
executioner
,
if
you
must
,
or
let
me
do
it
,
but
don
’
t
offer
yourself
to
—
”
“
Muad
’
Dib
need
not
do
this
thing
,
”
Chani
said
.
He
glanced
at
her
,
saw
the
fear
for
him
in
her
eyes
.
“
But
the
Duke
Paul
must
,
”
he
said
.
“
This
is
a
Harkonnen
animal
!
”
Gurney
rasped
.
