From "Manual of Muad'Dib" by the Princess Irulan

Ah-h-h-h , the Baron thought. "Have you found some mistake in my accounting then?" he demanded.
"When you imagine mistakes there can be no self-defense," the Count said.
He's deliberately trying to arouse my anger , the Baron thought. He took two deep breaths to calm himself. He could smell his own sweat, and the harness of the suspensors beneath his robe felt suddenly itchy and galling.
"The Emperor cannot be unhappy about the death of the concubine and the boy," the Baron said. "They fled into the desert. There was a storm."
"Yes, there were so many convenient accidents," the Count agreed.
"I do not like your tone, Count," the Baron said.
"Anger is one thing, violence another," the Count said. "Let me caution you: Should an unfortunate accident occur to me here the Great Houses all would learn what you did on Arrakis. They've long suspected how you do business."
"The only recent business I can recall," the Baron said, "was transportation of several legions of Sardaukar to Arrakis."
"You think you could hold that over the Emperor's head?"
"I wouldn't think of it!"
The Count smiled. "Sardaukar commanders could be found who'd confess they acted without orders because they wanted a battle with your Fremen scum."
"Many might doubt such a confession," the Baron said, but the threat staggered him. Are Sardaukar truly that disciplined? he wondered.
"The Emperor does wish to audit your books," the Count said.
"Any time."
"You . . . ah . . . have no objections?"
"None. My CHOAM Company directorship will bear the closest scrutiny." And he thought: Let him bring a false accusation against me and have it exposed. I shall stand there, Promethean, saying: "Behold me, I am wronged." Then let him bring any other accusation against me, even a true one. The Great Houses will not believe a second attack from an accuser once proved wrong ."
"No doubt your books will bear the closest scrutiny," the Count muttered.
"Why is the Emperor so interested in exterminating the Fremen?" the Baron asked.
"You wish the subject to be changed, eh?" The Count shrugged. "It is the Sardaukar who wish it, not the Emperor. They needed practice in killing . . . and they hate to see a task left undone."
Does he think to frighten me by reminding me that he is supported by bloodthirsty killers? the Baron wondered.
"A certain amount of killing has always been an arm of business," the Baron said, "but a line has to be drawn somewhere. Someone must be left to work the spice."
The Count emitted a short, barking laugh. "You think you can harness the Fremen?"
"There never were enough of them for that," the Baron said. "But the killing has made the rest of my population uneasy. It's reaching the point where I'm considering another solution to the Arrakeen problem, my dear Fenring. And I must confess the Emperor deserves credit for the inspiration."
"Ah-h-h?"
"You see, Count, I have the Emperor's prison planet, Salusa Secundus, to inspire me."
The Count stared at him with glittering intensity. "What possible connection is there between Arrakis and Salusa Secundus?"
The Baron felt the alertness in Fenring's eyes, said: "No connection yet."
"Yet?"
"You must admit it'd be a way to develop a substantial work force on Arrakis—use the place as a prison planet."
"You anticipate an increase in prisoners?"
"There has been unrest," the Baron admitted. "I've had to squeeze rather severely, Fenring. After all, you know the price I paid that damnable Guild to transport our mutual force to Arrakis. That money has to come from somewhere ."
"I suggest you not use Arrakis as a prison planet without the Emperor's permission, Baron."
"Of course not," the Baron said, and he wondered at the sudden chill in Fenring's voice.
"Another matter," the Count said. "We learn that Duke Leto's Mentat, Thufir Hawat, is not dead but in your employ."
"I could not bring myself to waste him," the Baron said.
"You lied to our Sardaukar commander when you said Hawat was dead."
"Only a white lie, my dear Count. I hadn't the stomach for a long argument with the man."
"Was Hawat the real traitor?"
"Oh, goodness, no! It was the false doctor." The Baron wiped at perspiration on his neck. "You must understand, Fenring, I was without a Mentat. You know that. I've never been without a Mentat. It was most unsettling."
"How could you get Hawat to shift allegiance?"
"His Duke was dead." The Baron forced a smile. "There's nothing to fear from Hawat, my dear Count. The Mentat's flesh has been impregnated with a latent poison. We administer an antidote in his meals. Without the antidote, the poison is triggered—he'd die in a few days."
"Withdraw the antidote," the Count said.
"But he's useful!"
"And he knows too many things no living man should know."
"You said the Emperor doesn't fear exposure."
"Don't play games with me, Baron!"
"When I see such an order above the Imperial seal I'll obey it," the Baron said. "But I'll not submit to your whim."
"You think it whim?"
"What else can it be? The Emperor has obligations to me, too, Fenring. I rid him of the troublesome Duke."
"With the help of a few Sardaukar."
"Where else would the Emperor have found a House to provide the disguising uniforms to hide his hand in this matter?"
"He has asked himself the same question, Baron, but with a slightly different emphasis."
The Baron studied Fenring, noting the stiffness of jaw muscles, the careful control. "Ah-h-h, now," the Baron said. "I hope the Emperor doesn't believe he can move against me in total secrecy."
"He hopes it won't become necessary."
"The Emperor cannot believe I threaten him!" The Baron permitted anger and grief to edge his voice, thinking: Let him wrong me in that! I could place myself on the throne while still beating my breast over how I'd been wronged .
The Count's voice went dry and remote as he said: "The Emperor believes what his senses tell him."
"Dare the Emperor charge me with treason before a full Landsraad Council?" And the Baron held his breath with the hope of it.
"The Emperor need dare nothing."
The Baron whirled away in his suspensors to hide his expression. It could happen in my lifetime! he thought. Emperor! Let him wrong me! Then—the bribes and coercion, the rallying of the Great Houses: they'd flock to my banner like peasants running for shelter. The thing they fear above all else is the Emperor's Sardaukar loosed upon them one House at a time .
"It's the Emperor's sincere hope he'll never have to charge you with treason," the Count said.
The Baron found it difficult to keep irony out of his voice and permit only the expression of hurt, but he managed. "I've been a most loyal subject. These words hurt me beyond my capacity to express."
"Um-m-m-m-ah-hm-m-m," said the Count.
The Baron kept his back to the Count, nodding. Presently he said, "It's time to go to the arena."
"Indeed," said the Count.
They moved out of the cone of silence and, side by side, walked toward the clumps of Houses Minor at the end of the hall. A bell began a slow tolling somewhere in the keep—twenty-minute warning for the arena gathering.
"The Houses Minor wait for you to lead them," the Count said, nodding toward the people they approached.