Lucilla blew on her fingers and leaned close to Teg to whisper: "Shouldn't he be here by now?"
He knew that was not her real question. "Can Burzmali be trusted?" That was her question. She had been asking it one way and another ever since Teg had explained the plan to her eight days ago.
All he could say was: "I have staked my life on it."
"Our lives, too!"
Teg too disliked the accumulated uncertainties, but all plans relied ultimately on the skills of those who executed them.
"You're the one who insisted we must get out of there and go on to Rakis," he reminded her. He hoped she could see his smile, a gesture to take the sting out of his words.
Lucilla was not placated. Teg had never seen a Reverend Mother this obviously nervous. She would be even more nervous if she knew of their new allies! Of course, there was the fact that she had failed to carry out her full assignment from Taraza. How that must gall her!
"We took an oath to protect the ghola," she reminded him.
"Burzmali has taken that same oath."
Teg glanced at Duncan standing silently between them. Duncan gave no sign that he heard the argument or shared the nervousness. An ancient composure held his features motionless. He was listening to the night, Teg realized, doing what all three of them should be doing just now. There was an odd look of ageless maturity on his young features.
If ever I needed trusted companions, it's now! Duncan thought. His mind had gone questing backward into the Giedi Prime days of his pre-ghola roots. This was what they had called "a Harkonnen night." Safe within the warm shielding of their suspensor-buoyed armor, the Harkonnens had enjoyed hunting their subjects on such nights. A wounded fugitive could die of the cold. The Harkonnens knew! Damn their souls!
Predictably, Lucilla caught Duncan's attention with a look that said: "We have unfinished business, you and I."
Duncan turned his face up into the starlight, making sure she could see his smile, an offensive and knowing look that caused Lucilla to stiffen inwardly. He slipped the heavy lasgun from his shoulder and checked it. She noted the ornate scrollwork on its stock and along the barrel. It was an antique but still it gave off a deadly sense of purpose. Duncan rested it over his left arm, right hand on the grip, finger on the trigger, exactly as Teg was carrying his own modern weapon.
Lucilla turned her back on her companions and sent her senses probing onto the hillside above them and below. Even as she moved, sound erupted all around. Globs of sound filled their night - a great burst of rumblings off to the right, then silence. Another burst from downslope. Silence. From upslope! On all sides!
At the first sound, all three of them crouched into the shelter of the rocks outside the no-globe's cave entrance.
The sounds filling their night carried little definition: intrusive racketing, partly mechanical, partly squeaks and wails and hisses. Intermittently, a subterranean drumming made the ground vibrate.
Teg knew these sounds. There was a battle going on out there. He could hear the background hissing of burners and, in the distant sky, the lancing beams of armored lasguns.
Something flashed overhead -trailing blue and red sparks. Another and another! The earth trembled. Teg inhaled through his nose: burned acid and a suggestion of garlic.
No-ships! Many of them!
They were landing in the valley below the ancient no-globe.
"Back inside!" Teg ordered.
As he spoke, he saw it was too late. People were moving in from all around them. Teg lifted his long lasgun and aimed it downslope toward the loudest of the intrusive noises and the nearest detectable movement. Many people could be heard shouting down there. Free glowglobes moved among the screening trees, set loose by whoever came from there. The dancing lights drifted upslope on a cold breeze. Dark figures moved in the shifting illumination.
"Face Dancers!" Teg grunted, recognizing the attackers. Those drifting lights would be clear of the trees within seconds and on his position in less than a minute!
"We've been betrayed!" Lucilla said.
A great shout roared from the hill above them: "Bashar!" Many voices!
Burzmali? Teg asked himself. He glanced back in that direction and then down at the steadily advancing Face Dancers. No time to pick and choose. He leaned toward Lucilla. "That's Burzmali above us. Take Duncan and run!"
"But what if -"
"It's your only chance!"
"You fool!" she accused, even as she turned to obey.
Teg's "Yes!" did nothing to ease her fears. This was what came of depending on the plans of others!
Duncan had other thoughts. He understood what Teg was about to do - sacrifice himself that two might escape. Duncan hesitated, looking at the advancing attackers below them.
Seeing the hesitation, Teg blared at him: "This is a battle order! I am your commander!"
It was the closest thing to Voice Lucilla had ever heard from a man. She gaped at Teg.
Duncan saw only the face of the Old Duke telling him to obey. It was too much. He grabbed Lucilla's arm, but before hustling her up the slope, he said: "We'll lay down a covering fire once we're clear!"
Teg did not respond. He crouched against a snow-dusted rock as Lucilla and Duncan scrambled away. He knew he must sell himself dearly now. And there must be something else: the unexpected. A final signature from the old Bashar.
The advancing attackers were coming up faster, exchanging excited shouts.
Setting his lasgun on maxibeam, Teg pressed the trigger. A fiery arc swept across the slope below him. Trees burst into flame and crashed. People screamed. The weapon would not perform long at this discharge level but while it did the carnage produced its desired effect.
In the abrupt silence after that first sweep, Teg shifted his position to another screening rock on his left and again sent a flaming lance down the dark slope. Only a few of the drifting glowglobes had survived that first slashing violence with its falling trees and dismembered bodies.
More screams greeted his second counterattack. He turned and scrambled across the rocks to the other side of the no-globe's access cave. There, he sent sweeping fire down the opposite slope. More screams. More flames and crashing trees.
No answering fire came back.
They want us alive!
The Tleilaxu were prepared to spend whatever number of Face Dancer lives it required to run his lasgun out of its charges!
Teg shifted the sling of the old Harkonnen weapon to a better position on his shoulder, getting it ready to swing into action. He discarded the almost empty charge in his modern lasgun, recharged it and rested the weapon across the rocks. Teg doubted he would get the chance to recharge the second weapon. Let them think down there that he had run out of charge cartridges. But there were two Harkonnen handguns in his belt as a last resort. They would be potent at close range. Some of the Tleilaxu Masters, the ones who ordered such carnage, let them come closer!
Cautiously, Teg lifted his long lasgun from the rock and moved backward, drifting up into the higher rocks, slipping left and then right. He paused twice to sweep the slopes below him with short bursts as though conserving the gun's charge. There was no sense in trying to conceal his movements. They would have a life-tracer on him by now and, besides, there were the tracks in the snow.
The unexpected! Could he suck them in close?
Well above the no-globe's access cave he found a deeper pocket in the rocks, its bottom filled with snow. Teg dropped into this position, admiring the fine field of fire this new vantage provided. He studied it briefly: protected behind him by higher crags and open downslope on three sides. He lifted his head cautiously and tried to see around the screening rocks upslope.
