“Shouldn’t we cross the bridge before resting?” Moneo asked.
“I am not resting.”
Leto stared ahead. After a series of switchbacks which were visible from here only as a twisting shadow, the high road crossed the river on a faery bridge, climbed to a buffer ridge and then sloped down to the city which presented a vista of glittering spires at this distance.
“The Duncan acts subdued,” Leto said. “Have you had your long conversation with him?”
“Precisely as you required, Lord.”
“Well, it’s only been four days,” Leto said. “They often take longer to recover.”
“He has been busy with your Guard, Lord. They were out until late again last night.”
“The Duncans do not like to walk in the open. They think about the things which could be used to attack us.”
“I know, Lord.”
Leto turned and looked squarely at Moneo. The majordomo wore a green cloak over his white uniform. He stood beside the open bubble cover, exactly in the place where duty required that he station himself on these excursions.
“You are very dutiful, Moneo,” Leto said.
“Thank you, Lord.”
Guards and courtiers kept themselves at a respectful distance well behind the cart. Most of them were trying to avoid even the appearance of eavesdropping on Leto and Moneo. Not so Idaho. He had positioned some of the Fish Speaker guards at both sides of the Royal Road, spreading them out. Now, he stood staring at the cart. Idaho wore a black uniform with white piping, a gift of the Fish Speakers, Moneo had said.
“They like this one very much. He is good at what he does.”
“What does he do, Moneo?”
“Why, guard your person, Lord.”
The women of the Guard all wore skintight green uniforms, each with a red Atreides hawk at the left breast.
“They watch him very closely,” Leto said.
“Yes. He is teaching them hand signals. He says it’s the Atreides way.”
“That is certainly correct. I wonder why the previous one didn’t do that?”
“Lord, if you don’t know. . .”
“I jest, Moneo. The previous Duncan did not feel threatened until it was too late. Has this one accepted our explanations?”
“So I’m told, Lord. He is well started in your service.”
“Why is he carrying only that knife in the belt sheath?”
“The women have convinced him that only the specially trained among them should have lasguns.”
“Your caution is groundless, Moneo. Tell the women that it’s much too early for us to begin fearing this one.”
“As my Lord commands.”
It was obvious to Leto that his new Guard Commander did not enjoy the presence of the courtiers. He stood well away from them. Most of the courtiers, he had been told, were civil functionaries. They were decked out in their brightest and finest for this day when they could parade themselves in their full power and in the presence of the God Emperor. Leto could see how foolish the courtiers must appear to Idaho. But Leto could remember far more foolish finery and he thought that this day’s display might be an improvement.
“Have you introduced him to Siona?” Leto asked.
At the mention of Siona, Moneo’s brows congealed into a scowl.
“Calm yourself,” Leto said. “Even when she spied on me, I cherished her.”
“I sense danger in her, Lord. I think sometimes she sees into my most secret thoughts.”
“The wise child knows her father.”
“I do not joke, Lord.”
“Yes, I can see that. Have you noticed that the Duncan grows impatient?”
“They scouted the road almost to the bridge,” Moneo said.
“What did they find?”
“The same thing I found-anew Museum Fremen.”
“Another petition?”
“Do not be angry, Lord.”
Once more, Leto peered ahead. This necessary exposure to the open air, the long and stately journey with all of its ritual requirements to reassure the Fish Speakers, all of it troubled Leto. And now, another petition!
Idaho strode forward to stop directly behind Moneo.
There was a sense of menace about Idaho’s movements. Surely not this soon, Leto thought.
“Why are we stopping, m’Lord?” Idaho asked.
“I often stop here,” Leto said.
It was true. He turned and looked beyond the faery bridge. The way twisted downward out of the canyon heights into the Forbidden Forest and thence through fields beside the river. Leto had often stopped here to watch the sunrise. There was something about this morning, though, the sun striking across the familiar vista . . . something which stirred old memories.