most uncouth, Baron. Addresses you as ‘Harkonnen’-no ‘Sire et Cher Cousin,’ no title, nothing.”
“It’s a good name,” the Baron growled, and his voice betrayed his impatience. “What does dear Leto say?”
“He says: ‘Your offer of a meeting is refused. I have ofttimes met your treachery and this all men know.’ ”
“And?” the Baron asked.
“He says: ‘The art of kanly still has admirers in the Empire.’ He signs it: ‘Duke Leto of Arrakis.’ ” Piter began to laugh. “Of Arrakis! Oh, my! This is almost too rich!”
“Be silent, Piter,” the Baron said, and the laughter stopped as though shut off with a switch. “Kanly, is it?” the Baron asked. “Vendetta, heh? And he uses the nice old word so rich in tradition to be sure I know he means it.”
“You made the peace gesture,” Piter said. “The forms have been obeyed.”
“For a Mentat, you talk too much, Piter,” the Baron said. And he thought: I must do away with that one soon. He has almost outlived his usefulness. The Baron stared across the room at his Mentat assassin, seeing the feature about him that most people noticed first: the eyes, the shaded slits of blue within blue, the eyes without any white in them at all.
A grin flashed across Piter’s face. It was like a mask grimace beneath those eyes like holes. “But, Baron! Never has revenge been more beautiful. It is to see a plan of the most exquisite treachery: to make Leto exchange Caladan for Dune—and without alternative because the Emperor orders it. How waggish of you!”
In a cold voice, the Baron said: “You have a flux of the mouth, Piter.”
“But I am happy, my Baron. Whereas you ... you are touched by jealousy.”
“Piter!”
“Ah-ah, Baron! Is it not regrettable you were unable to devise this delicious scheme by yourself?”
“Someday I will have you strangled, Piter.”
“Of a certainty, Baron. Enfin! But a kind act is never lost, eh?”
“Have you been chewing verite or semuta, Piter?”
“Truth without fear surprises the Baron,” Piter said. His face drew down into a caricature of a frowning mask. “Ah, hah! But you see, Baron, I know as a Mentat when you will send the executioner. You will hold back just so long as I am useful. To move sooner would be wasteful and I’m yet of much use. I know what it is you learned from that lovely Dune planet—waste not. True, Baron?”
The Baron continued to stare at Piter.
Feyd-Rautha squirmed in his chair. These wrangling fools! he thought. My uncle cannot talk to his Mentat without arguing. Do they think I’ve nothing to do except listen to their arguments?
“Feyd,” the Baron said. “I told you to listen and learn when I invited you in here. Are you learning?”
“Yes, Uncle.” the voice was carefully subservient.
“Sometimes I wonder about Piter,” the Baron said. “I cause pain out of necessity, but he ... I swear he takes a positive delight in it. For myself, I can feel pity toward the poor Duke Leto. Dr. Yueh will move against him soon, and that’ll be the end of all the Atreides. But surely Leto will know whose hand directed the pliant doctor ... and knowing that will be a terrible thing.”
“Then why haven’t you directed the doctor to slip a kindjal between his ribs quietly and efficiently?” Piter asked. “You talk of pity, but—”
“The Duke must know when I encompass his doom,” the Baron said. “And the other Great Houses must learn of it. The knowledge will give them pause. I’ll gain a bit more room to maneuver. The necessity is obvious, but I don’t have to like it.”
“Room to maneuver,” Piter sneered. “Already you have the Emperor’s eyes on you, Baron. You move too boldly. One day the Emperor will send a legion or two of his Sardaukar down here onto Giedi Prime and that’ll be an end to the Baron Vladimir Harkonnen.”
“You’d like to see that, wouldn’t you, Piter?” the Baron asked. “You’d enjoy seeing the Corps of Sardaukar pillage through my cities and sack this castle. You’d truly enjoy that.”
“Does the Baron need to ask?” Piter whispered.
“You should’ve been a Bashar of the Corps,” the Baron said. “You’re too interested in blood and pain. Perhaps I was too quick with my promise of the spoils of Arrakis.”
Piter took five curiously mincing steps into the room, stopped directly behind Feyd-Rautha. There was a tight air of tension in the room, and the youth looked up at Piter with a worried frown.
“Do not toy with Piter, Baron,” Piter said.