The Winds of Dune Read Online Free PDF

the priesthood, was the first implicated, his guilt plain to a council of Fremen Naibs. His execution at Stilgar’s hands had been easy, necessary, and bloody.
    But Stilgar had never before killed a Guild Steersman, nor had he ever killed a Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit. Yet, when Alia gave the command, he’d committed the acts without question.
    The captive Steersman Edric had wielded the power of the Spacing Guild and carried the political weight of an appointed ambassador, but his safety depended on civilized restraints that meant nothing to Stilgar. Smashing the tank had been simple. When the spice gas drained away and the Steersman flopped about like a spindly aquatic creature cast up on a hostile shore, Stilgar had gripped the mutant’s rubbery flesh and snapped the cartilaginous neck. He had taken no great pleasure in it.
    The Bene Gesserit witch Mohiam was another matter entirely. Though Stilgar was a great Fremen fighter, this old woman had powers he did not understand, fearsome ways that could have rendered an attack against her very difficult, had he not had the advantage of surprise. He succeeded in killing her only because Mohiam never believed he would actually disobey Paul’s orders that she was not to be harmed.
    To accomplish the task he had used a clever subterfuge to have her gagged so that she could not use the power of Voice against him, and the old witch had submitted. Had she suspected that her life was threatened, she would have fought tenaciously. Stilgar had not wanted a battle; he wanted an execution.
    With the gag firmly set over her mouth, and her hands tied to the chair, Stilgar had stood before the old woman. “Chani—daughter of Liet and beloved of Muad’Dib—is dead after giving birth to twin children.” Mohiam’s bright eyes widened; he could see she wanted to say something, but was unable. “The ghola Hayt has broken his indoctrination and refused to kill Paul-Muad’Dib.” The witch’s expression had been a thunderstorm of activity as thoughts flashed through her mind. “Nevertheless, Muad’Dib has given himself to Shai-Hulud, as a blind Fremen is expected to do.”
    Stilgar withdrew the crysknife from his belt. “Now true justice falls to me. We know your part in the conspiracy.” Mohiam began to struggle against her bonds. “The Guild Steersman is already dead, and Korba, too. Princess Irulan has been imprisoned in a death cell.”
    There was a sound of snapping bonds . . . or perhaps it was the sound of wrist bones breaking. Regardless, Mohiam freed one of her hands. It flashed to the gag over her mouth, but Stilgar’s crysknife was faster. He stabbed her chest, knowing it to be a mortal wound, but the Reverend Mother kept moving, forcing her hand to pull the gag free.
    Stilgar struck again, puncturing her larynx and slashing her throat, causing her to slump. He kicked the chair and body over, then looked at his sticky fingers. As he wiped the milky blade on the Reverend Mother’s dark robes, he realized that the blood of the witch looked and smelled the same as any other blood. . . .
    Those had not been the only killings ordered by Alia. It had been a long and difficult night.
    Now, as the great worm approached the gap that had been blasted through the Shield Wall by Paul’s atomics, Stilgar saw a barricade of water-filled qanats that no worm could cross—especially a tired one like this. Better to release the beast here, out on the open sand. He had ridden and released so many sandworms that he had lost count. As a Fremen, guiding the sacred creatures over the dunes had always been dangerous, but not to be feared. If you followed the proper protocol.
    Short of the gap, he set the creature in motion, slipped down the pebbled rings, and tumbled off onto the sand. Then he rose to his feet and remained motionless, so that the worm would not detect his presence. Sandworms had no eyes, simply sensed vibrations.
    But the creature paused and turned his way as