“Go up the ramp on your right,” Leto said. “Stop just beyond the centre of the ledge and turn to face the women.”

Idaho lifted his right hand in acknowledgment. He was emerging into the open space now and the dimensions of this enclosed place awed him. He set his trained eyes the task of estimating the dimensions as he mounted to the ledge and guessed the hall to be at least eleven hundred metres on a side—a square with rounded corners. It was packed with women, and Idaho reminded himself that these were only the chosen representatives of the far scattered Fish Speaker regiments—three women from each planet. They stood now, their bodies pressed so closely together that Idaho doubted one of them could fall. They had left only a space about fifty metres wide along the ledge where Idaho now stopped and surveyed the scene. The faces looked up at him—faces, faces.

Leto stopped his cart just behind Idaho and lifted one of his silver-skinned arms.

Immediately, a roaring cry of “Siaynoq! Siaynoq!” filled the great hall.

Idaho was deafened by it. Surely that sound must be heard throughout the city, he thought. Unless we are too far underground.

“My brides,” Leto said. “I welcome you to Siaynoq.”

Idaho glanced up at Leto, saw the dark eyes glistening, the radiant expression. Leto had said: “This cursed holiness!” But he basked in it.

Has Moneo ever seen this gathering? Idaho wondered. It was an odd thought, but Idaho knew its origin. There had to be some other mortal human with whom this could be discussed. The escort had said Moneo was dispatched on “affairs of state” whose details they did not know. Hearing this, Idaho had felt himself sense another element in Leto’s government. The lines of power extended directly from Leto out into the populace, but the lines did not often cross. That required many things, including trusted servants who would accept responsibility for carrying out orders without question.

“Few see the God Emperor do hurtful things,” Siona had said. “Is that like the Atreides you knew?”

Idaho looked out over the massed Fish Speakers as these thoughts flitted through his mind. The adulation in their eyes! The awe! How had Leto done this? Why?

“My beloveds,” Leto said. His voice boomed out over the upturned faces, carried to the farthest corners by subtle Ixian amplifiers concealed in the Royal Cart.

The steaming images of the women’s faces filled Idaho with memory of Leto’s warning. Incur their wrath at your mortal peril!

It was easy to believe that warning in this place. One word from Leto and these women would tear an offender to pieces. They would not question. They would act. Idaho began to feel a new appreciation of these women as an army. Personal peril would not stop them. They served God!

The Royal Cart creaked slightly as Leto arched his front segments upward, lifting his head.

“You are the keepers of the faith!” Leto said.