A tall man in a mottled burnoose stepped in front of Jessica. His mouth baffle was thrown aside for clear speech, revealing a heavy beard in the sidelight of the moon, but face and eyes were hidden in the overhang of his hood.
"What have we here—jinn or human?" he asked.
And Jessica heard the true-banter in his voice, she allowed herself a faint hope. This was the voice of command, the voice that had first shocked them with its intrusion from the night.
"Human, I warrant," the man said.
Jessica sensed rather than saw the knife hidden in a fold of the man's robe. She permitted herself one bitter regret that she and Paul had no shields.
"Do you also speak?" the man asked.
Jessica put all the royal arrogance at her command into her manner and voice. Reply was urgent, but she had not heard enough of this man to be certain she had a register on his culture and weaknesses.
"Who comes on us like criminals out of the night?" she demanded.
The burnoose-hooded head showed tension in a sudden twist, then slow relaxation that revealed much. The man had good control.
Paul shifted away from his mother to separate them as targets and give each of them a clearer arena of action.
The hooded head turned at Paul's movement, opening a wedge of face to moonlight. Jessica saw a sharp nose, one glinting eye—
"A likely cub," the man said. "If you're fugitives from the Harkonnens, it may be you're welcome among us. What is it, boy?"
The possibilities flashed through Paul's mind:
"Why should you welcome fugitives?" he demanded.
"A child who thinks and speaks like a man," the tall man said. "Well, now, to answer your question, my young wali, I am one who does not pay the fai, the water tribute, to the Harkonnens. That is why I might welcome a fugitive."
"I am Stilgar, the Fremen," the tall man said. "Does that speed your tongue, boy?"
"I know you, Stilgar," Paul said. "I was with my father in Council when you came for the water of your friend. You took away with you my father's man, Duncan Idaho—an exchange of friends."
"And Idaho abandoned us to return to his Duke," Stilgar said.
Jessica heard the shading of disgust in his voice, held herself prepared for attack.
The voice from the rocks above them called: "We waste time here, Stil."
"This is the Duke's son," Stilgar barked. "He's certainly the one Liet told us to seek."
"But . . . a child, Stil."
"The Duke was a man and this lad used a thumper," Stilgar said. "That was a brave crossing he made in the path of
And Jessica heard him excluding her from his thoughts. Had he already passed sentence?
"We haven't time for the test," the voice above them protested.
"Yet he could be the Lisan al-Gaib," Stilgar said.
"But the woman," the voice above them said.
Jessica readied herself anew. There had been death in that voice.
"Yes, the woman," Stilgar said. "And her water."
"You know the law," said the voice from the rocks. "Ones who cannot live with the desert—"
"Be quiet," Stilgar said. "Times change."
"Did Liet
"You heard the voice of the cielago, Jamis," Stilgar said. "Why do you press me?"
And Jessica thought:
"I but remind you of your duties, friend Stilgar," said the voice above them.
"My duty is the strength of the tribe," Stilgar said. "That is my only duty. I need no one to remind me of it. This child-man interests me. He is full-fleshed. He has lived on much water. He has lived away from the father sun. He has not the eyes of the ibad. Yet he does not speak or act like a weakling of the pans. Nor did his father. How can this be?"
"We cannot stay out here all night arguing," said the voice from the rocks. "If a patrol—"
"I will not tell you again, Jamis, to be quiet," Stilgar said.
The man above them remained silent, but Jessica heard him moving, crossing by a leap over a defile and working his way down to the basin floor on their left.
"The voice of the cielago suggested there'd be value to us in saving you two," Stilgar said. "I can see possibility in this strong boy-man: he is young and can learn. But what of yourself, woman?" He stared at Jessica.