Hawat scrutinized the charts. “I can give only my best approximation of where we should strike.”
Leto had immediately increased city guard patrols throughout Cala City after the bombings, and now his Mentat suggested an even greater lockdown of the city until after the assault had launched. “My Lord, we must see that no word gets out. I suggest we blockade the city overnight, shut down transport, close the roads. Nothing until our troops set out at dawn tomorrow.”
“Gods below,” Gurney muttered. “Chaen Marek could have spies here in the city. No doubt they have already reported the damage his bombs caused.”
“We have to keep our plans confidential,” Leto said. “The soldiers will learn of the departure time only when we call them to the troop carriers.” He studied the charts again, shaking his head. So many potential target zones. “If only we had more specific information…”
A distinguished old man from the castle staff rapped on the door of the war room. “You have a visitor, my Lord. He insists on seeing you.”
“We cannot be disturbed right now,” Leto said.
The old servant was respectful, but also familiar with his Duke, whom he had served for years. “It may benefit you to listen, sir. It is Archvicar Torono, and I believe his urgency is genuine.”
“That man may be a spy,” Gurney complained. “After what his followers have done…”
“Maybe, and maybe not.” Leto still felt some remorse after his stern clash with the Muadh followers and his hard punishment, assuming they were entirely guilty. The pundi rice farmers had access to barra ferns for their mysterious ritual, so they had an obvious connection to the drug operations. The basic evidence seemed clear, yet the details did not add up. “I will grant him the courtesy of hearing what he has to say. In these times, I will not go out of my way to find other unwanted enemies.”
The stately Archvicar entered the war room, eyes downcast. He wore his sharp-angled cap with its embroidered fern frond. His brown robes flowed with importance, but his demeanor was contrite. He pressed his palms together and pulled them apart, widening his fingers as if pulling unseen elastic strands from the air.
“Duke Leto, my Duke, circumstances and honor require that I come here.” He bowed. Leto searched Torono’s face, saw only sincerity. The Archvicar continued, “Atreides honor is famed across Caladan, but so is Muadh honor. I bring you information about the barra ferns, where they grow and … and how the drug has been subverted.”
Leto stepped back, guardedly hopeful. “If you have valuable intelligence, I would very much like to hear it.”
“My people were dismayed by your unfounded accusations, my Duke. We did not understand why you would believe such terrible things about us. Pundi farmers are your peaceful and loyal subjects, but when you appeared before our temple and forbade our use of the sacred ferns, we…”
Leto thought of the appalling obliteration of his four military flyers and the hidden bombs in Cala City that nearly killed Paul. Leto couldn’t believe the pundi rice farmers were the same as the vicious fanatics who followed Chaen Marek. The first responsibility of a Duke.…
The Archvicar continued, not making excuses. “We Muadh devote ourselves to contemplation and centering. That is what the purification ritual is about. So I called my followers together, and we asked ourselves questions. We realized that we had to help our Duke. We have found answers for you.”
He touched his fingertips together and pulled them apart as if playing an imaginary game of cat’s cradle. “My people have heard whispers. Across the land, in other villages, some farmers have vanished from our fields. They stopped tending the terraces their families had worked for generations, and just … disappeared.
“I learned that a few of my people were indeed involved in growing barra ferns, in shipping and selling ailar … including the new, potent strain that has killed so many.” His brows knitted together, and his bearded face became angry. “We found the individuals who sold ailar to your Lieutenant Nupree.” His face filled with sorrow. “They … have been dealt with.”
“How did you deal with them?” Thufir Hawat asked. “Justice rests with the Duke.”
“We dealt with them in the Muadh way. It was sufficient.” The Archvicar gave no further details. “The barra ferns these evil people are using … they are not the same ferns we use for our ritual. Our special plants are more delicate, less mottled, and the ailar they produce is a gentler alternative. It is what benefits us.” Now his fingers clenched as if he meant to strangle the invisible lines in the air. “These other ferns have been genetically altered to produce a dangerous form of ailar. We have determined that a man named Chaen Marek is growing them by the ton. His hidden operations in the wilderness are significant.” Torono’s expression became stormy and paternal. “He has corrupted something we consider sacred. It is our desire that these people be stopped. We must end this shame, Duke Leto, my Duke.”
“The Caladan drug.” Leto felt an ache in his muscles and in his heart. “That is precisely my intent, Archvicar.”
“Good. Then perhaps I can help.”
Leto solemnly accepted the religious leader’s assistance. “If you intend to give us a blessing, we will accept it.”
“I will give you a blessing, and much more than that.” The Archvicar reached into his robes and withdrew sheets of folded brown paper. “I can identify the sites of the largest barra fields and give coordinates of where their main operations are. Your forces will know exactly where to strike.”
Leto’s heart leaped. Hawat lurched forward to pick up the papers, and Gurney let out a burst of laughter. “That is precisely what we need!”
“Thank you, Archvicar,” Leto said. “That is good news indeed.”
When the Archvicar smiled, his rough beard poked out in wild directions. He looked relieved, as if basking in forgiveness from his Duke. He touched his fingertips together again and bowed. “Now I will give you the promised blessing.”
The Sisterhood views the future of humanity by considering an infinite number of possibilities. We can step back and consider which threads are best for the species as a whole. That is the difference between the Bene Gesserit and an individual, whether noble-born or street urchin. We do not think, “What about me? What is my future?”
—Bene Gesserit Perspective on History, “Executive Summary”
Golden morning light swept like a scimitar across the high stone edifice of Castle Caladan. At the bustling military field on the headlands, dozens of troop carriers loaded up. Incendiary-filled attack flyers were piloted by grim officers, every one of them ready to go despite knowing the fate of the previous squadron. The fast ships would provide air support and bombing runs once “the fields were exposed, but the main attack would be a direct ground assault. Large carriers would bring an overwhelming force of well-armed and vengeful Atreides soldiers to the drug harvesting and processing camps, which Archvicar Torono had identified.
Duke Leto ordered a scorched-earth response. No mercy for the drug lord who had exploded bombs in Cala City, harmed his subjects, and threatened Paul.