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Valya turned her back on him and strode calmly toward the dormitory.
AS SHE PASSED through the school grounds, the rest of the students regarded her with awe. She could hear whispers and could read even more from their flickers of glances, a sudden turning away.
At dawn, a courier from the main island arrived, rushing to the student dormitory with a message for her — from Wallach IX. She felt a sudden dread. Had Mother Superior Raquella died? Perhaps she should not have come here to Ginaz after all.
She unsealed the letter to read a coded message hidden in the arrangement of the characters, and saw that the note itself came from Raquella. So, the old woman was still alive:
Return to Wallach IX immediately. I can wait no longer. I must a
Chapter 54 (How can you call my actions atrocities)
How can you call my actions atrocities, when I am merely responding to atrocities committed against me?
— MANFORD TORONDO, rebuttal to Imperial inquiry
After Anari Idaho rushed back from Arrakis, she spread the legless corpse in the main room of Manford’s home. The dark hair was matted with dried blood, the skin gray and blotchy. Half of the head had been blown away by the assassin’s projectile weapon.
“His body is not preserved,” Anari said. “We didn’t have time. I needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.”
Deacon Harian was both sickened and outraged at the attempted murder of the Butlerian leader. “A wise decision, Swordmaster. You could have been killed yourself.”
She turned to him with scorn, her face flushed. “I don’t care about me. I wanted to save him, to get away before too many people saw what happened. Before they saw him dead. That way, I could leave a question in the minds of witnesses.”
Manford Torondo looked down at the corpse of his look-alike. He felt light-headed and queasy, and furious. “The would-be assassin believes he killed me. Anyone who saw it firsthand would be certain. They’ll all think I am dead.”
“And when you return to public view, they will see it as a miracle,” Sister Woodra said.
Manford couldn’t tear his gaze away from the dead man. This double had willingly placed himself in danger, and Manford’s heart also pounded with gratitude for Anari’s foresight. If not for her intervention, he would have gone to that desert planet himself — and perished there. He had been too complacent about his safety, assuming that the hand of God would shield him, just as the chosen ships of EsconTran should have been blessed with safety. But God wasn’t always predictable, Manford was coming to realize, and the Butlerian leader still had much work to do with his followers.
“This man fulfilled his duty, and now he reaps his reward.” Sadly, at the moment Manford couldn’t even remember the double’s real name.
“We need to increase security around you, Leader Torondo,” Harian said. “Traitors could be lurking anywhere.”
Sister Woodra’s face pinched into a frown; it looked as if someone had sucked all the moisture out of her head. She shifted her glance to Anari. “Swordmaster, you must redouble your efforts to protect him.”
“I devote my entire existence to protecting this man.”
Woodra barely contained a sneer as she glanced at the corpse. “And see how effective you have been.”
“Very effective.” Insulted, Anari crossed her arms over her broad chest. “I identified the danger beforehand — and the true Manford still lives.”
Manford looked up from the corpse. “This is a good thing. There will be those who celebrate my death, and witnesses who swear they saw me slain. Therefore, I must reveal myself with great fanfare. I’ll show them all that God Himself protects me, that I ca
Anari’s brow furrowed. “The last time you went to Salusa, the rampage festival … Prince Roderick’s i
“I won’t ask them to forget,” Manford said. “Arrakis is a den of thieves and murderers, but the Imperial capital on Salusa Secundus should be civilized enough. Salvador knows that if any harm befalls me in Zimia, my followers will rise up and burn the palace and the city to the ground.” He narrowed his gaze. “After the attempt on my life, it’s even more important to demonstrate that I am not afraid. Our remedial action on Baridge was only a first step. I must turn the screws, inflict pain, and coerce the Emperor to do what he must do. I will prime him like a weapon and aim him toward Arrakis.”
Manford drew a long breath. “I am convinced Josef Venport was behind the assassination attempt on Arrakis. He’s made no secret of the fact that he wants me dead, and now it’s our turn to inflict pain where it will hurt him the most — in his profits!”
Ellonda came into the room bearing a luncheon tray, and she nearly dropped the platter upon seeing the dead body that looked so much like Manford Torondo. “It’s horrible, just horrible!” The dishes clattered as the old woman searched for a place to set down the tray. “Do you need me to clean that up, sir?”
Manford shook his head. “Harian will take care of it. No one can know there is a body here. I must be seen as unharmed, perfectly healthy.”
As the serving woman set out the tray, unable to tear her gaze from the corpse, Manford turned to his companions. “When I get to Salusa, I will demand that Emperor Salvador seize all spice operations on Arrakis. We showed our power during the rampage festival, and he will do whatever we ask.”
“If the Imperium absorbs spice operations, there will be an advantage to the Emperor as well,” Sister Woodra pointed out. “Given the huge profits in the melange industry, that planet should be under Imperial control.”
Manford conceded the point. He was surprised at how calm and controlled he sounded, even as a great storm raged inside him. He couldn’t erase the image of Josef Venport from his mind. “Venport tried to kill me! We will go to Salusa Secundus, and I will file my formal complaint with the Emperor.” He glanced at Anari. “And this time you won’t talk me out of traveling. I am not a coward, and I need to go there in person.”
“What if Roderick Corrino orders you arrested and makes you pay for the death of his daughter?” Anari asked.
“I wield far more power than the Emperor’s brother does. If he were to arrest and accuse me, he would unleash a storm he could never control.” He smiled. “No, he will not do that.”
Deacon Harian cleared his throat. “Your second body double has been ready for more than a year, just in case. We had to search several planets until we found a satisfactory look-alike. He still needs to have the final surgery, of course.”
Manford nodded. “Let me see him and thank him before his metamorphosis.”
As Ellonda scurried away, uncomfortable to be near the dead body, Sister Woodra scowled after her.
Harian summoned the volunteer from town; the other look-alike had been kept behind closed doors where others couldn’t see him. The man entered now, with short dark hair, squarish face, handsome features — objectively five years younger than the real Butlerian leader, but his features were similar. From a distance, as a showpiece, he would look sufficiently like Manford Torondo.
The volunteer glanced at the corpse, drawing conclusions, then focused his gaze on the Butlerian leader. “I have been summoned by truth and destiny. I am ready.”
“Know that I appreciate your sacrifice,” Manford said. “I had no choice about my legs … but you do. And you still made the right decision, the courageous decision.”