bh.houseatreides-第92章
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!
Duncan scrambled backward; terrified。 The creature's multifaceted eyes burned a coppery red; as if embers inside the orbs had glowed to life。 The bull seemed angry and evil; a child's nightmare e true。
For the paseo; the boy wore special white…and…green merh…silks the Duke had given all the stableboys for the day's performance。 Duncan had never before worn or even touched such fancy clothes; and it made him unfortable to bring them into the dirty stables。 But he had a greater sense of uneasiness now。
The fabric felt slick on his clean and lotioned skin。 Attendants had scrubbed him; trimmed his hair; cleaned his fingernails。 His body felt raw from the cleansing。 White lace rode at the wrists above his callused hands。 Working in the stables; his pristine condition would not last long。
Safe enough from the bull now; Duncan straightened the cap on his head。 He watched the beast as it snorted; pawed the plank floor; and rammed the side of the cage again。 Duncan shook his head in dismay and concern。
Turning; he spotted Yresk standing close beside him。 The stablemaster nodded coolly at the ferocious Salusan bull; his puffy eyes haunted and tired。 〃Looks like he's eager to fight our Duke。〃
〃Something's still wrong; sir;〃 Duncan insisted。 〃I've never seen the animal this riled。〃
Yresk raised his bushy eyebrows and scratched his shock of white hair。 〃Oh; in all your years of experience? I told you not to trouble yourself。〃
Duncan bridled at the sarcasm。 〃Can't you see it yourself; sir?〃
〃Stable…rat; Salusan bulls are bred to be vicious。 The Duke knows what he's doing。〃 Yresk crossed his scarecrow arms over his chest; but he didn't move closer to the cage。 〃Besides; the more keyed…up this one is; the better he'll fight; and our Duke certainly likes to give a good performance。 His people love it。〃
As if to emphasize Yresk's point; the bull battered itself against the force field; bellowing a deep roar from the vast engine of its chest。 Its horned head and leathery hide were gashed in places where it had injured itself trying to trample anything in sight。
〃I think we should pick a different bull; Master Yresk。〃
〃Nonsense;〃 the other replied; growing more impatient now。 〃The Atreides's own stable veterinarian has performed body tissue tests; and everything checked out。 You should be ready for the paseo; not in here causing trouble。 Run along now; before you miss your chance。〃
〃I'm trying to prevent trouble; sir;〃 Duncan insisted。 He looked defiantly at Yresk。 〃I'm going to go talk to the Duke myself。 Maybe he'll listen。〃
〃You'll do no such thing; stable…rat。〃 Moving like an eel; Yresk grabbed him by the slippery fabric of the costume。 〃I've been patient enough with you; for the Duke's sake; but I can't let you ruin his bullfight。 Don't you see all the people out there?〃
Duncan struggled and cried for help。 But the others had already lined up at the gates for the grand parade around the arena。 The fanfare sounded a deafening note; and the crowd cheered in anticipation。
Without being unduly rough; Yresk tossed him into one of the empty stalls; turning on the containment field to keep him in it。 Duncan stumbled onto piles of trampled feed smeared with green…brown manure。
〃You can sit out the event here;〃 Yresk said; looking sad。 〃I should have known to expect trouble from you; a Harkonnen sympathizer。〃
〃But I hate the Harkonnens!〃 Duncan stood up; trembling with rage。 His silk clothes were ruined。 He hurled himself against the bars just as the bull had done; but he had no chance of escaping。
Brushing himself off to look presentable again; Yresk strode toward the arched openings for the paseo。 The stablemaster flashed a glance over his shoulder。 〃The only reason you're here; stable…rat; is because the Duke likes you。 But I've run his stables for nigh on twenty years; and I know exactly what I'm doing。 You just leave it be I've got work to do。〃
In the cage beside Duncan; the Salusan bull simmered like a boiler about to explode。
DUKE PAULUS ATREIDES stood in the center of the arena。 He turned slowly; drawing energy from the enthusiasm of the crowd; residual heat rose from the packed stands。 He flashed them all a sparkling; confident grin。 They roared with approval。 Oh; how his people loved to be entertained!
Paulus switched on his body…shield at partial setting。 He would have to maneuver carefully for his protection。 The element of danger kept him on his toes; and it made for greater suspense among the spectators。 He held the muleta; a brightly colored cloth on a pole; which he would use to distract the attacking animal and divert its attention from his body core。
The long barbed staffs; poison…dipped banderillas; were wrapped close to the pole for Paulus to use when he needed them。 He would get near to the creature and spike them into its neck muscles; injecting a neuropoison that would gradually weaken the Salusan bull so that he could deliver the coup de grace。
Paulus had been through these performances dozens of times before; often for major Caladan holidays。 He was at the top of his form in front of crowds and enjoyed showing off his bravery and skills。 It was his way of repaying his subjects for their devotion。 Each time; it seemed; his physical abilities rose to their peak as he rode the narrow edge in the contest between living his own life to the hilt and risking it as he fought a raging beast。 He hoped Rhombur and Kailea would enjoy the show and feel more at home。
Only once; back when he was younger; had Paulus actually felt threatened: A sluggish; plodding bull had lured him into switching off his shield during a practice session; and then had turned into a whirlwind of horns and hooves。 These mutated creatures were not just violent; but two…brain smart as well; and Paulus had made the mistake of forgetting that but only once。 The bull had slashed him with its horns; laying his side open。 Paulus had fallen onto the sand and would have been gored to death had he not been practicing at the same time as a much younger Thufir Hawat。
Seeing the danger; the warrior Mentat had instantly dropped all pretense of protocol in the bullring and leaped forth single…handedly to attack and dispatch the creature。 During the ensuing fight; the ferocious bull had ripped a long wound in Hawat's leg; leaving him with a permanent; curling scar。 The scar had bee a reminder to all of the Mentat's intense devotion to his Duke。
Now; under the cloudy skies and surrounded by his subjects; Duke Paulus waved and took a long; deep breath。 Fanfare signaled that the fight was to begin。
House Atreides was not the most powerful family in the Landsraad; nor the wealthiest。 Still; Caladan provided many resources: the pundi rice fields; the bountiful fish in the seas; the kelp harvest; all the fruit and produce from the arable land; and handmade musical instruments and bone carvings done by the aboriginal people in the south。 In recent years there had been an increased demand for tapestries woven by the Sisters in Isolation; a religious group sequestered in the terraced hills of the eastern continent。 In all; Caladan provided everything its people could possibly want; and Duke Paulus knew his family's fortunes were secure。 He was immensely pleased that one day he could pass it all on to his son Leto。
The mutated Salusan bull charged。
〃Ho; ho!〃 The Duke laughed and flailed his multihued muleta; skittering backward as the bull thundered past。 Its head tossed from side to side; thrashing with its spiny shovel of a skull。 One of the horns moved slowly enough to ripple through the pulsing Holtzman shield; and the Duke slid sideways; just enough so that the bone spike barely scratched his outer armor。
Seeing how close the horn had e to their beloved leader; the audience let out a collective gasp。 The Duke sidestepped the bull as it charged past; kicking up powdered sand。 The beast skidded to a stop。 Paulus held his muleta with one hand; jiggling the cloth; and snatched out one of his barbed banderillas。
He glanced up at the ducal box; touching the hooked tip of the banderilla to his forehead in a salute。 Leto and Prince Rhombur had leaped to their feet in excitement; but Helena remained froz