Paul caught the code words in his father's message--guard-safe-secure-shortly. The problem was security, not violence. He saw that his mother had read the same message. They both relaxed.
The Duke gave a short nod, wheeled and strode through the service door followed by his trooper.
Paul said: "Please go on with your dinner. I believe Doctor Kynes was discussing water."
"May we discuss it another time?" Kynes asked.
"By all means," Paul said.
And Jessica noted with pride her son's dignity, the mature sense of assurance.
The banker picked up his water flagon, gestured with it at Bewt. "None of us here can surpass Master Lingar Bewt in flowery phrases. One might almost assume he aspired to Great House status. Come, Master Bewt, lead us in a toast. Perhaps you've a dollop of wisdom for the boy who must be treated like a man."
Jessica clenched her right hand into a fist beneath the table. She saw a handsignal pass from Halleck to Idaho, saw the house troopers along the walls move into positions of maximum guard.
Bewt cast a venomous glare at the banker.
Paul glanced at Halleck, took in the defensive positions of his guards, looked at the banker until the man lowered the water flagon. He said: "Once, on Caladan, I saw the body of a drowned fisherman recovered. He--"
"Drowned?" It was the stillsuit manufacturer's daughter.
Paul hesitated, then: "Yes. Immersed in water until dead. Drowned."
"What an interesting way to die," she murmured.
Paul's smile became brittle. He returned his attention to the banker. "The interesting thing about this man was the wounds on his shoulders--made by another fisherman's claw-boots. This fisherman was one of several in a boat--a craft for traveling on water--that foundered . . . sank beneath the water.
Another fisherman helping recover the body said he'd seen marks like this man's wounds several times. They meant another drowning fisherman had tried to stand on this poor fellow's shoulders in the attempt to reach up to the surface--to reach air."
"Why is this interesting?" the banker asked.
"Because of an observation made by my father at the time. He said the drowning man who climbs on your shoulders to save himself is understandable--
except when you see it happen in the drawing room." Paul hesitated just long enough for the banker to see the point coming, then: "And, I should add, except when you see it at the dinner table."
A sudden stillness enfolded the room.
That was rash, Jessica thought. This banker might have enough rank to call my son out. She saw that Idaho was poised for instant action. The House troopers were alert. Gurney Halleck had his eyes on the men opposite him.
"Ho-ho-ho-o-o-o!" It was the smuggler, Tuek, head thrown back laughing with complete abandon.
Nervous smiles appeared around the table.
Bewt was grinning.
The banker had pushed his chair back, was glaring at Paul.
Kynes said: "One baits an Atreides at his own risk."
"Is it Atreides custom to insult their guests?" the banker demanded.
Before Paul could answer, Jessica leaned forward, said: "Sir!" And she thought: We must learn this Harkonnen creature's game. Is he here to try for Paul? Does he have help?
"My son displays a general garment and you claim it's cut to your fit?"
Jessica asked. "What a fascinating revelation." She slid a hand down to her leg to the crysknife she had fastened in a calf-sheath.
The banker turned his glare on Jessica. Eyes shifted away from Paul and she saw him ease himself back from the table, freeing himself for action. He had focused on the code word: garment. "Prepare for violence. "
Kynes directed a speculative look at Jessica, gave a subtle hand signal to Tuek.
The smuggler lurched to his feet, lifted his flagon. "I'll give you a toast," he said. "To young Paul Atreides, still a lad by his looks, but a man by his actions."
Why do they intrude? Jessica asked herself.
The banker stared now at Kynes, and Jessica saw terror return to the agent's face.
People began responding all around the table.
Where Kynes leads, people follow, Jessica thought. He has told us he sides with Paul. What's the secret of his power? It can't be because he's Judge of the Change. That's temporary. And certainly not because he's a civil servant.
She removed her hand from the crysknife hilt, lifted her flagon to Kynes, who responded in kind.
Only Paul and the banker-- (Soo-Soo! What an idiotic nickname! Jessica thought.)--remained empty-handed. The banker's attention stayed fixed on Kynes.
Paul stared at his plate.
I was handling it correctly, Paul thought. Why do they interfere? He glanced covertly at the male guests nearest him. Prepare for violence? From whom?
