Dune

Even though she transmitted her Honored Matre identity ahead of her, there were touchy moments at the Landing Flat.

A squad of armed Honored Matres confronted her as she emerged from the lighter beside a smoking pit. The smoke smelled of exotic explosives.

Where Mother Superior’s lighter was destroyed.

An ancient Honored Matre led the squad, her red robe stained, some of its decorations gone and a rip down the left shoulder. She was like some dried-up lizard, still poisonous, still with a bite but running on well-used angers, most of her energy gone. Disarrayed hair like the outer skin of a fresh-dug ginger root. There was a demon in her. Murbella saw it peering from orange-flecked eyes.

For all the fact that a full squad backed up the old one, the two of them faced each other as though isolated at the foot of the lighter’s drop, wild animals cautiously sniffing, trying to judge the extent of danger.

Murbella watched the old one carefully. This lizard would dart her tongue a bit, testing the air, giving vent to her emotions, but she was sufficiently shocked to listen.

“Murbella is my name. I was taken captive by the Bene Gesserit on Gammu. I am an adept of the Hormu.”

“Why are you wearing a witch’s robes?” The old one and her squad stood ready to kill.

“I have learned everything they had to teach and have brought that treasure to my Sisters.”

The old one studied her a moment. “Yes, I recognize your type. You’re a Roc, one we chose for the Gammu project.”

The squad behind her relaxed slightly.

“You did not come all the way in that lighter,” the old one accused.

“I escaped from one of their no-ships.”

“Do you know where their nest is?”

“I do.”

A wide smile spread on the old one’s lips. “Well! You are a prize! How did you escape?”

“Do you have to ask?”

The old one considered this. Murbella could read the thoughts on her face as though they were spoken: These ones we brought from Roc—deadly, all of them. They can kill with hands, feet, or any other movable part of their bodies. They all should carry a sign: “Dangerous in any position.”

Murbella moved away from the lighter, displaying the sinewy grace that was a mark of her identity.

Speed and muscle, Sisters. Beware.

Some of the squad pressed forward, curious. Their words were full of Honored Matre comparisons, eager questions Murbella was forced to parry.

“Did you kill many of them? Where is their planet? Is it rich? Have you bonded many males there? You were trained on Gammu?”

“I was on Gammu for the third stage. Under Hakka.”

“Hakka! I’ve met her. Did she have that injured left foot when you knew her?”

Still testing.

“It was the right foot and I was with her when she took the injury!”

“Oh, yes, the right foot. I remember now. How was she injured?”

“Kicking a lout in the rear. He had a sharp knife in his hip pocket. Hakka was so angry she killed him.”

Laughter swept through the squad.

“We will go to Great Honored Matre,” the old one said.

So I’ve passed first inspection.

Murbella sensed reservations, though.

Why is this Hormu adept wearing those enemy robes? And she has a strange look to her.

Best face that one at once.

“I took their training and they accepted me.”

“The fools! Did they really?”

“You question my word?” How easy it was to revert, adopting touchy Honored Matre ways.

The old one bristled. She did not lose hauteur but she sent a warning look to her squad. All of them took a moment to digest what Murbella had said.

“You became one of them?” someone behind her asked.

“How else could I steal their knowledge? Know this! I was the personal student of their Mother Superior.”

“Did she teach you well?” That same challenging voice from behind.

Murbella identified the questioner: middle echelon and ambitious. Anxious for notice and advancement.

This is the end of you, anxious one. And little loss to the universe.

A Bene Gesserit feint drifted the feather that was her foe into range. One Hormu-style kick for them to recognize. The questioner lay dead on the ground.

Marriage of Bene Gesserit and Honored Matre abilities creates a danger you should all recognize and envy.

“She taught me admirably,” Murbella said. “Any other questions?”

“Ehhhhh!” the old one said.

“How are you called?” Murbella demanded.

“I am a Senior Dame, Honored Matre of the Hormu. I am called Elpek.”

“Thank you, Elpek. You may call me Murbella.”

“I am honored, Murbella. It is indeed a treasure you have brought us.”