CHAPITRE VI:
Imperial Matters.

"Madhavi Idaho and Lady Jessica's relationship strayed away as the years went by. There was this unmistakable fondness that never stood a chance against the animosity caused by their respective principles."

— from 'Collected Legends of Qalb Suhraa' by Emel Corrino

Danger to the Imperium?

The thought of being deemed a threat to the imperial power puzzled her. What had she done to warrant such an accusation?

Her eyes locked onto the figure before her, poised for another strike. In a flash of movement, the mercenary lunged forward, his blade gleaming in the dim light. With lightning reflexes, Madhavi countered his attack, the clash of blades reverberating through the room.

This time, she was ready.

The young Idaho delivered a powerful kick to the mercenary's stomach, narrowly evading the lethal arc of his blade. In a different circumstance, she might have commended his skill, but survival now outweighed any admiration. Blow after blow rained down as they grappled with each other, until Madhavi tripped over a footstool, sending her crysknife flying.

Shit.

She stretched out her hand towards her weapon, but before she could reach it, the assassin lunged forward, his fist connecting with her jaw with a sickening thud. Pain exploded behind her eyes as Madhavi's head hit the floor, her vision swimming. She tasted blood on her lips, a metallic tang that fueled her fury. The hand she had freed to retrieve her weapon was violently crushed by the mercenary's foot, making her grit her teeth.

Trapped, she had only one way out.

"Release me."

The command echoed through the room, pushing the walls of all its might but found no recipient. A gasp escaped her bloody lips as she widened her eyes—she was dangerously short of resources.

"Wrong opponent, Saint. The Voice won't work on me."

Madhavi frowned, wondering what sort of machinations the Bene Gesserit had contrived to make him immune. That's when the realisation hit her, making her swear under her breath―he was deaf. They had planned it all.

"One last wish before you die?" His boot was now on her jugular, exerting a steady pressure on her throat. The young Idaho looked around, taking little time to analyze every corner of the room before meeting his gaze with cold resolve.

"You should have never crossed my path. "

Confident in his dominance, the mercenary failed to detect the glint of steel as Madhavi drew a slender knife from her back. To think that her father complained about her sleeping with weapons on her. In an agile gesture, she drove the blade into his foot repeatedly, eliciting a pained cry as he collapsed to the ground.

As he struggled to rise, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the corridor.

It's about time.

With a swift and practiced movement, she disarmed him, kicking the weapon out of his reach. Madhavi stared attentively at him, noticing the Sardaukar tattoo on top of his left eyebrow, protruding with pride.

The revelation sent a chill down the girl's spine. Sardaukar―the elite soldiers of the Padishah Emperor, feared throughout the known universe for their unmatched combat prowess and unwavering loyalty. What was a Sardaukar doing here, in the heart of Arrakeen's palace, attempting to assassinate her?

"You're a Sardaukar," she stated, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

The mercenary, his gaze fixed on Madhavi, read her lips with practiced ease. A cynical smirk twisted his mouth as he glanced at his bleeding wound, then back at her.

"You trained well, Saint," he replied in a raspy voice, the words laced with bitterness and resignation. It was clear that he harbored no illusions about his fate.

Madhavi's brow furrowed in confusion at his response. But before she could press for answers, the sound of her door bursting open drew her attention.

Gurney's entrance was abrupt, his eyes widening in surprise as he stumbled into the room, almost colliding with the young Idaho. But the seasoned warrior quickly regained his composure, his gaze flicking between Madhavi and the fallen Sardaukar.

"What's going on here?" the Warmaster demanded, his hand instinctively reaching for the weapon at his side.

Sparing him a brief glance, she gestured to the incapacitated mercenary at her feet. "I had a visitor," she said simply, her voice betraying none of the tension that gripped her.

Gurney's eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him. "A Sardaukar," he muttered grimly, his expression darkening with concern. "We need to get him to the infirmary," the dark-haired man decided, his voice firm as he motioned to the guards who had followed him into the room. "And find out why he's here."

As the guards moved to restrain the Sardaukar and carry him away, Madhavi's thoughts raced with unanswered questions. What larger conspiracy was she unwittingly entangled in?

Gurney waited until the guards had left before turning his attention to Madhavi, who sat on the edge of her bed, visibly stunned by the recent events. He approached her with a sense of urgency tempered by concern, his eyes reflecting the weight of the situation.

"I apologize, Madhi," Gurney began, his voice tinged with regret. "I don't understand how a Sardaukar could have breached our security without raising any suspicion."

Madhavi shook her head, dismissing his apology with a weary gesture. "It's not your fault, Gurney," she replied softly, her gaze fixed on the bloodstained floor. "Nor Thufir's. These things happen, even under the most vigilant watch."

"Two murder attempts in the space of two nights," Gurney mused, his voice heavy. "Do you have any idea why this Sardaukar was here?"

Madhavi's mind raced, piecing together the fragments of information she had gleaned from the encounter. The mercenary's words echoed in her thoughts, stirring a sense of unease within her. The fact that he was deaf suggested a calculated move, one that hinted at a deeper knowledge of her abilities. And aside a few of House Atreides, only the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam was aware of it. The implications of this realization weighed heavily on Madhavi. Lady Jessica's potential involvement loomed ominously in her mind, but she hesitated to voice her suspicions without concrete evidence. Though, she couldn't forget the glint in the woman's gaze upon hearing the pilgrims' chants—the dread that makes you realise that you need to get rid of something.

"No," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know."

Gurney regarded her with a mixture of understanding and determination. "We'll get the answers out of our new prisoner," he declared, his tone resolute. "You shouldn't worry, Madhi. We'll uncover the truth behind this. Your f-"

The urgent voice echoing down the corridor brought an abrupt halt to Gurney's words, his expression shifting from concern to exasperation. Madhavi recognized the voice too—it was Paul, his impatience palpable even from a distance. The Warmaster sighed audibly, a gesture of resignation as he rose from his crouching position, his movements deliberate as he fetched a gauze pad and handed it to the wounded girl.

Taking the gauze, Madhavi applied it to her face, the pressure offering some relief to the throbbing ache of her wound. It was a sensation she was unaccustomed to—the sting of a fresh scar marking her otherwise unblemished skin. She had escaped everything from childish injuries, to slaps that left marks, to pimples, but now she had a scar that stretched from her eye to her cheek.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, when your father comes back. For now, just calm him down before he starts turning the whole house upside down," Gurney advised, his tone laced with a hint of mischief.

The young Idaho rolled her eyes when she caught the faint smile on his face. As the man reached the doorway, he paused, casting a brief glance back at Madhavi. "Take care of that wound," he added, his tone softening momentarily before turning his back to her.

With Gurney's departure, she was left alone in the aftermath of the encounter, the room suddenly feeling too quiet. Taking a deep breath, Madhavi tried to steady her racing thoughts amidst the subsiding adrenaline rush.

Amidst the settling quiet of the room, the young Idaho detected a subtle shift in the atmosphere—a faint sound barely audible amidst the stillness. Instinctively, she raised her head, her gaze scanning the space around her.

There, standing near the door, was Paul Atreides, his presence both reassuring and unnerving. He hesitated, hovering uncertainly on the threshold, as if unsure whether to intrude upon her solitude.

Their eyes met, a silent exchange passing between them as unspoken questions hung in the air.

It was simple and complex at the same time.

Trivial and mystical.

Feeble and intense.

Madhavi's gaze softened as she beheld him, noting the furrow in his brow and the tension in his frame. There was a mutual understanding in that silent exchange, a recognition of shared apprehension and vulnerability. They stood in silent communion, enveloped by the unspoken truths that bound them.

With a tentative step forward, Paul breached the silence, his voice carrying a note of cautious concern. "Madhavi," he began, his words tentative. "Are you alright?"

Offering him a faint smile, she replied, "I'm fine, Paul. Just a scratch."

Sensing her underlying distress, Paul acted instinctively, guided by an unspoken impulse to offer solace. He approached her without hesitation, drawn by the ache in his heart and the need to comfort her.

She didn't try to pull away when her head met the rich fabric of Paul's shirt. She didn't flinch when he ran his hands through her curls. She let herself go a second time, always telling herself that it would be the last. Her head resting against his chest, she let herself be soothed by the beating of his heart in perfect unison with her own.

As his fingers brushed against her wound, eliciting a reflexive flinch, he offered a heartfelt "I'm sorry."

In that moment, he glimpsed a future devoid of her presence—a prospect that filled him with an overwhelming sense of dread.

This future, which he desperately hopes never to face, has kneaded him to the bone. When the sun disappears, to be replaced by the moon, night falls on everything. An endless night, with no way out, with no hope of ever finding that comforting sun again.

Paul did not want to see his sun go out, to see his night lengthen forever, to see his heart cease to thump. Rage pulsed in his temples, warming his veins before setting his heart on fire—how dare they?.

But in life, you have to be prepared for all kinds of vicissitudes.

—

In the narrow passageways of a sietch, a familiar figure emerged, one Madhavi never anticipated encountering again. Her jet-black locks billowed in the desert breeze, adorned with grains of sand resembling twinkling stars in a midnight sky.

"You resemble your mother so much," her father's voice echoed in her memory.

Madhavi's gaze, now a striking shade of blue, couldn't rival the warm amber that once graced her mother's eyes. It was a hue that evoked memories of everything and nothing all at once—the golden sands of the desert, the blazing sun overhead, the most precious treasure known to man.

She was staring into her eyes, as if she could see her standing a few steps away. A wave of regret quenched the fire that crackled in her irises.

"Sayyadina Kori! Reverend Mother Gaius summons you."

At the words, the sun cast a crimson hue—a red reminiscent of blood. The gentle breeze vanished, replaced by an oppressive dryness. Her throat grew parched, and then, unexpectedly, rain poured down upon the sietch.

Rain in the desert?

The droplets intensified, pelting down relentlessly, saturating the two women to their very core. Madhavi's mother observed her throughout the strange occurrence, as though anticipating Madhavi's realization of something profound. Warily, Madhavi extended her tongue to catch a raindrop, only to recoil as it tasted of blood. Piercing screams echoed through the valley, causing her head to spin—just as it had taken Kori Nycteus only a heartbeat to vanish.

Before long, the scene shifted, transporting her to the mouth of a cave concealed amidst jagged rocks. No blood rain in sight, no oppressive dryness—only her and the cavern, from which emanated familiar voices.

"You know I can't go with you, Duncan. Who would take the role of Sayyadina for me?"

Disappointment etched across the face of the sword master, prompting Madhavi's mother to lay a consoling hand on his cheek. Her father attempted to interject, only to be drowned out by the cries of the baby cradled in Kori Nycteus' arms. It didn't take Madhavi long to realize that the infant was her, yet something perplexed her — its body was adorned with inscriptions she couldn't decipher.

The child's aura clashed with her own, like sand grinding against skin in a raging sandstorm. Mingling and intertwining, their energies birthed an essence that surged through every limb of Madhavi's body, igniting her entire being.

What had just occurred?

"The Bene Gesserit want her."

The scattered items surrounding the couple hinted at a hasty departure, as if fleeing from someone — or something.

Events unfolded with such rapidity that Madhavi had no opportunity to grasp their full significance.

Was it merely another vision, or a reenactment of forgotten memories? Whose recollections were these? And why did she sense a gaping void in the mosaic of her past?

Once again, her mother met her gaze.

Madhavi began to comprehend the long-concealed truths her father had shielded her from, yet she couldn't bring herself to accept them. Her mother's forbidden love wasn't the sole reason behind the Bene Gesserit's relentless pursuit.

In the blink of an eye, Madhavi found herself once more within the familiar confines of the cave, yet this time, the company around her had shifted. Her mother sat at the center, encircled by veiled women intoning prayers, all directed towards Qalb Suhraa. A jolt shot through the young Idaho's heart as she realized that the prophecy hadn't been meant for her originally, but for her mother long before her.

"Now drink the Water of Life," came the command.

With unwavering determination etched upon her face, Kori swallowed the poisonous concoction in a single gulp. Crafted from the exhalation of a drowning sandworm, the liquid offered only two outcomes—mastery or death. The screams that tore from her mother's throat sent shivers down Madhavi's spine, echoed by the hums of the women surrounding her, who stood as witnesses to her ordeal. It lasted only a few moments, but the feat was nothing short of miraculous. To alter the very essence of the liquid, stripping it of its toxicity, was a monumental achievement, and few had survived the spice agony.

Amidst jubilant cries hailing the emergence of the new Sayyadina, Kori cast a worried glance at her swollen belly. It was then that realization dawned upon Madhavi, causing her to gasp in horror, her hand clamping over her mouth to stifle the scream.

By enduring the spice agony while bearing a child, Kori Nycteus had committed two grave errors. Firstly, she had marked her offspring as a target, destined to inherit devastating powers. And secondly, in giving birth under such circumstances, she had unwittingly birthed a potent adversary capable of upsetting the delicate balance of the Bene Gesserit.

Madhavi Idaho was indeed an Abomination.

—

In a desperate flurry, the young woman raced through the labyrinthine corridors of the house, heedless of Dr. Yueh's caution to remain in bed. Answers beckoned, and only Lady Jessica held the key.

How ironic, she mused, to realize that one's entire life had been built upon a foundation of partial truths, the rest obscured like the moon overshadowed by the sun at dawn. It was akin to feeling one's heart clutched in a vice, each squeeze tighter than the last, yet always teetering on the brink of being torn asunder.

Nearly stumbling as she reached the threshold of Lady Jessica's weirding room, she swung the door open wide before hastily shutting it behind her.

In the dimly lit chamber, Leto Atreides' concubine sat immersed in the glow of an ornate glowglobe, her features softened by the flickering light. Startled by the sudden intrusion, she looked up, her eyes betraying a mixture of surprise and concern.

"Madhavi, you shouldn't be here." Lady Jessica's voice was gentle, yet tinged with apprehension.

Ignoring the weariness that gnawed at her bones, Madhavi pressed forward, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Did you know who my mother was?" she blurted out, her voice raw with emotion.

"Lady Jessica's brow furrowed with concern as she halted her movements, contemplating her response. Though she had known the girl's mother, her knowledge was limited, and revealing too much could have dire consequences.

At least, that's what she has to believe. She has to trust me.

"Sayyadina Kori Nycteus," she put away the books in her arms, taking the time to run her finger over their binding, "A woman of great powers."

Madhavi's frustration simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over as Lady Jessica's cryptic words only served to deepen her confusion.

"Surely your acolytes have informed you that she endured the spice agony while carrying a child?" she snapped, her gaze hardening into a glare of accusation.

Lady Jessica suppressed the urge to react to the girl's tone, attributing it to a blend of frustration and agitation. To Madhavi's surprise, the woman appeared genuinely taken aback by this revelation, her expression clouded with concern and disbelief. After a brief moment of contemplation, the concubine lifted her head, meeting the young Idaho's eyes with a mixture of apprehension, astonishment, and sympathy.

"You're an Abomination," she stated, her voice tinged with a sense of realization, "that would explain what happened with the Reverend Mother."

Madhavi harbored a gnawing fear deep within her, a fear that twisted and coiled like a serpent in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't just the voices that haunted her every waking moment, but the ominous portent they carried, like a foreboding storm gathering on the horizon.

With each passing day, the whispers grew louder, their tendrils winding their way into the very fabric of her being. What had once been a faint murmur had blossomed into distinct, unmistakable words, echoing relentlessly in the recesses of her mind. They taunted her, teased her, tempting her with promises of power and destruction.

The young Idaho's mind raced with a torrent of questions, each more urgent than the last. "Was that why you tried to have me killed?" she demanded, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

Lady Jessica raised a cautionary hand, her expression grave. "Be careful with your accusations, Madhavi," she warned, her tone firm. "Jumping to conclusions without evidence can lead to dangerous misunderstandings."

But Madhavi couldn't shake the weight of her suspicions. "It's nearly impossible for a mercenary to breach our security without inside help," she insisted, her voice adamant. "Someone must have aided him in gaining access."

Jessica's gaze hardened. "An attempt on Paul's life occurred just two nights ago," she spat. "We cannot ignore the possibility that this incident is connected."

The young Idaho shook her head, her frustration mounting. "A hunter-seeker and an assassin are two entirely different things," she countered, her words edged with defiance. "The method, the intent—it doesn't align."

As the tension between them simmered, Madhavi couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease. The pieces of the puzzle were scattered before her, but she couldn't see the full picture yet.

"It is beyond you," warned Jessica, her voice dangerously low. "Everything is not as it seems."

Tick Tock, time is running out for you, child of the desert, fate isn't particularly known for its patience.

IZIA'S NOTE

so, do you think jessica did it or not?

hope you liked the chapter, and don't forget to vote, comment and share!!

thank you for reading and see you soon! ❤️

© ADONYSIAC ― IZIA™