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

Book Three

THE PROPHET

No woman, no man, no child ever was deeply intimate with my father. The closest anyone ever came to casual camaraderie with the Padishah Emperor was the relationship offered by Count Hasimir Fenring, a companion from childhood. The measure of Count Fenring's friendship may be seen first in a positive thing: he allayed the Landsraad's suspicions after the Arrakis Affair. It cost more than a billion solaris in spice bribes, so my mother said, and there were other gifts as well: slave women, royal honors, and tokens of rank. The second major evidence of the Count's friendship was negative. He refused to kill a man even though it was within his capabilities and my father commanded it. I will relate this presently.
—"Count Fenring: A Profile" by the Princess Irulan

The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen raged down the corridor from his private apartments, flitting through patches of late afternoon sunlight that poured down from high windows. He bobbed and twisted in his suspensors with violent movements.

Past the private kitchen he stormed—past the library, past the small reception room and into the servants' antechamber where the evening relaxation already had set in.
The guard captain, Iakin Nefud, squatted on a divan across the chamber, the stupor of semuta dullness in his flat face, the eerie wailing of semuta music around him. His own court sat near to do his bidding.
" Nefud !" the Baron roared.
Men scrambled.
Nefud stood, his face composed by the narcotic but with an overlay of paleness that told of his fear. The semuta music had stopped.
"My Lord Baron," Nefud said. Only the drug kept the trembling out of his voice.
The Baron scanned the faces around him, seeing the looks of frantic quiet in them. He returned his attention to Nefud , and spoke in a silken tone:
"How long have you been my guard captain, Nefud ?"
Nefud swallowed. "Since Arrakis, my Lord. Almost two years."
"And have you always anticipated dangers to my person?"
"Such has been my only desire, my Lord."
"Then where is Feyd-Rautha?" the Baron roared.
Nefud recoiled. "M'Lord?"
"You do not consider Feyd-Rautha a danger to my person?" Again, the voice was silken.
Nefud wet his lips with his tongue. Some of the semuta dullness left his eyes. "Feyd-Rautha's in the slave quarters, my Lord."
"With the women again, eh?" The Baron trembled with the effort of suppressing anger.
"Sire, it could be he's—"
"Silence!"
The Baron advanced another step into the antechamber, noting how the men moved back, clearing a subtle space around Nefud , dissociating themselves from the object of wrath.
"Did I not command you to know precisely where the na-Baron was at all times?" the Baron asked. He moved a step closer. "Did I not say to you that you were to know precisely what the na-Baron was saying at all times—and to whom?" Another step. "Did I not say to you that you were to tell me whenever he went into the quarters of the slave women?"
Nefud swallowed. Perspiration stood out on his forehead.
The Baron held his voice flat, almost devoid of emphasis: "Did I not say these things to you?"
Nefud nodded.
"And did I not say to you that you were to check all slave boys sent to me and that you were to do this yourself . . . personally? "
Again, Nefud nodded.
"Did you, perchance, not see the blemish on the thigh of the one sent me this evening?" the Baron asked. "Is it possible you—"
"Uncle."
The Baron whirled, stared at Feyd-Rautha standing in the doorway. The presence of his nephew here, now—the look of hurry that the young man could not quite conceal—all revealed much. Feyd-Rautha had his own spy system focused on the Baron.
"There is a body in my chambers that I wish removed," the Baron said, and he kept his hand at the projectile weapon beneath his robes, thankful that his shield was the best.
Feyd-Rautha glanced at two guardsmen against the right wall, nodded. The two detached themselves, scurried out the door and down the hall toward the Baron's apartments.