Navigators of Dune

14

Though Lankiveil was her home, Tula felt that any sanctuary was only an illusion. She had trouble grasping who she really was anymore, and didn’t know how she could find her own purpose in life. Was she her own person, or the Sisterhood’s pawn … her sister’s pawn?

Valya had transformed her into a weapon of vengeance, but that weapon had already been fired, and it was time to either reload or discard it.

Tula sat near a warm fire in the Harkonnen great house. Outside, the skies were overcast, and a chill spring wind ruffled the water in the fjord. Her father and his crew had gone out on a three-day fur-whale hunt, but Tula remained home with her mother and brother, Danvis. They were glad to have her home, and Tula felt calmer in their company, although she pretended to be much more content than she actually was. She constantly jumped at shadows, always watching for someone dangerous and unexpected out of the corner of her eye — possibly Vorian or Willem Atreides. She knew they would never let her rest after the bloody scene she had left behind on Caladan.

Tula spun the flywheel of her baliset and toyed with the strings, strumming familiar childhood songs, but the music did little to soothe her heart. Danvis sat down next to her with an uncertain smile. “I remember that one! I forgot that you could play the baliset so well.”

“It’s been a long time … a long time since I’ve had a reason to play music.”

Her brother was sixteen now, with black hair and dark blue eyes. The two of them were as close as brother and sister could be, maybe even as close as Valya and Griffin had been before Vorian Atreides killed him. Now, as Tula’s thoughts began to ricochet down that dark hallway, she tried to focus instead on the music, and then on Danvis, who made her realize how sweet and innocent she herself had been before Valya reshaped her into a deadly tool.

Her family had no idea what that training had entailed, how Tula had been taught to use her every manipulative and sexual skill in order to ensnare one particular young man on Caladan: Orry Atreides.

After killing Orry as instructed, Tula had returned to Wallach IX, where she received Valya’s deep appreciation, but she’d been disturbed and unhappy instead. Valya clearly didn’t understand her mood, nor why Tula wanted to go home to Lankiveil to recuperate. Even here, her family was full of questions about what had happened, where she had been, and what she had done. Tula remained tight-lipped.

“Is Valya coming home soon too?” her mother pressed, cheerful and thinking small.

“Valya is never coming home. She is the Sisterhood’s Mother Superior now. She has larger concerns than our welfare.”

No matter how she tried, Tula could not hide from her own guilt. She spent a lot of time now with Danvis, who was still her best friend, and he could sense that she was troubled. He wasn’t shy about asking questions, even after she told him she didn’t want to answer, and he kept pressing. Once, when her agitation made her drop her guard, she let slip, “I got married,” then clamped her mouth shut again.

After that, Danvis peppered her with more questions, but she refused to reveal Orry’s name or speak about his gentle personality, his foolish-looking smile — and all that blood. Killing the Atreides had been her mission, and Tula had not dared to disappoint her sister. Under other circumstances, though, Tula might actually have grown fond of the young man.

Danvis watched her play the baliset for a long time and then blurted out, “I’m applying for a position in the Imperial Court.” The interruption made her falter on the strings of the instrument. He continued in a rush, “Valya used to tell me that she hoped I might do this someday, and I don’t want to let her down. I don’t want to let House Harkonnen down. It’s a great opportunity! Emperor Roderick is filling his staff with members of the Landsraad, and now that our family is stronger, we can regain the political ground we lost.”

Since their disgrace at the end of the Jihad, House Harkonnen had suffered hardship on top of hardship — which Valya blamed squarely on Vorian Atreides, although their standing had also fallen because of unwise commercial decisions their father had made. Thanks to a recent infusion of wealth from an unknown benefactor, their family was on solid financial footing again, but Valya had not forgotten her grudge against the Atreides — and she made sure her sister would never forget either.

“I’ve never been to the Imperial Court,” Tula responded to Danvis.

His eyes sparkled. “Won’t you tell me where you went instead?”

She concentrated on the baliset, generating a soft melody. “What does it matter? I’m here now, but I can’t stay on Lankiveil for long.”

Danvis looked disappointed. “Will you go back to the Sisterhood school?”

“No!” she answered, too quickly. Hadn’t she done enough? What was she to do now? If she returned to the Sisterhood, Valya would undoubtedly give her another murderous mission.… “Please don’t ask me any more questions. There are things I can’t share, not even with you.”

“You’re my sister. You shouldn’t need to hide anything from me.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t. But I still have to.”

Tula didn’t dare tell her brother what she had done, what Valya had forced her to do. She had been ruthless in her mission — Valya was proud of her — but ever since fleeing Caladan, Tula had discovered a surprising thing inside: her own conscience. During these days on Lankiveil, she was trying to remove the blindfold of Sisterhood programming.

She retuned to the baliset and began to play a song that the musicians on Caladan had performed for her wedding ceremony. She remembered gazing with well-masked hatred upon Vorian Atreides, who had not recognized her. And young Willem, who looked so proud to see his brother getting married. And Orry beside her … handsome, gullible Orry, intoxicated with love and stunned by his apparent good fortune. He had so looked forward to their wedding night — as had Tula, but for different reasons. Such a pity that he had to be an Atreides.

She recalled Orry talking about his dreams, his plans for their long life together. Tula had limited any discussion of their future, because she knew that the future held only death for Orry. She remembered the sweetness of his kisses, the beautiful time they had shared on their wedding night — before she’d stabbed him and slashed his throat, then bounded out through the night streets to hunt down Vorian Atreides as well. She had barely escaped Caladan with her life.

Now she was back in the shelter of her family, but she could not stay here. Vorian and Willem Atreides would surely track her down. Or Valya would. She didn’t know which of the two possibilities bothered her more.

Her mother emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “I made honeyflower pastries for dessert. Those were always your favorite.” Her mother smiled, but questions burdened her eyes.

Tula felt a wave of nostalgia. If only she could remain here and act like a child again, without a care in the world. “Thank you, Mother. That’s very kind.”

Since coming home, Tula had been curt with her mother, volatile enough that Sonia Harkonnen knew something was wrong. But Tula couldn’t explain anything to her, either.

Danvis jarred her from her thoughts. “You stopped playing.”

“What would you like to hear?”

He thought for a moment. “‘The Lost Whaler’s Song.’”

“That’s a sad one.”

When her brother shrugged, Tula realized that he was less familiar with sadness than she was. She envied Danvis for his comparative innocence. She had once felt satisfaction in knowing she had a purpose. But everything had changed.

She tried to remain calm, setting the baliset aside. She had been working on a decision in her mind. “I can’t stay here. I have to leave again and go far away.”

He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Are we in danger? Our family?”

She looked at him long and hard, surprised that he had sensed something. “Possibly. But far less than I am. Demons are chasing me, and I can’t get away from them if I stay here. They’ll find me.” She swallowed hard. “And Valya scares me too.”

Danvis looked disturbed, but she couldn’t reveal any details that would make it better for him. If she confessed what she had done in the name of House Harkonnen, her brother would be appalled; their parents would be horrified and ashamed of her. Better that she kept it all inside herself.

“Lankiveil isn’t where I need to be. I realize that now. I have to find a place without memories for me … entirely without memories.” She glanced down at the baliset. “I think I’ll go to Chusuk. I have heard good things about that world…” Her voice trailed off.

Danvis stared, obviously yearning to understand what was wrong with her. He laced his fingers together.

She thought again of how handsome Orry had looked. Tula had awakened in the quietest hour, as planned, and gazed at his peaceful face as he slept, so satisfied and content. So unknowing. She had given him that happiness at least, before completing her mission. His expression had changed terribly as soon as she stabbed him in the chest—

She drove that image from her thoughts, choosing to focus instead on his handsome face, even though Valya insisted the blood was the part she should remember, in the name of House Harkonnen.

In Tula’s mind, there was no way to make vengeance a pretty picture.