For the nineteenth and final entry in the "If" series, we have Paul Atreides, looking forward to the events of Dune. Thanks for coming all this way with me; it's been great fun. Cheers!
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And—which is more—you'll be a Man, my son!
He stood, concealed behind one of the many pillars in the room, though he had no doubt Gurney knew he was there.
Strike, strike, dodge-and-strike, hit!
Paul landed on his backside, hard.
"Again!" Gurney barked.
Paul, breathing heavily, snarled and drug himself back to his feet.
Swing, strike, dodge, swing, dodge-and-roll, dodge, dodge, hit!
With a bitten-off growl, Paul went down.
"Again!" Gurney barked.
Eyes flashing and muscles trembling, Paul pulled himself up again. Leto, hidden, smiled in sympathetic memory of the relentless training sessions of his own youth—for never had an Atreides allowed his sons to grow up soft.
Strike, strike, hit!
Paul was down again, more quickly this time, fairly spitting fire. He stood…
Strike, hit!
…and was down. He cursed viciously and Leto raised his eyebrows. Either the men-at-arms didn't watch their tongues as they should around the Duke's son, or the Duke's son was as proficient as his father at lurking behind pillars. Leto would put his money on the latter.
Hit!
But this time, at Gurney's barked "Again!" Paul closed his eyes for a moment, shuddered, and forced his fists to unclench and his breathing to slow.
Gurney Halleck threw a triumphant smile toward the Duke's hidden position.
Paul stood, exhausted but in control once more, and absorbed Gurney's strike with a beautiful parry, muscles remembering endless repetitions now that the mind was focused.
Smiling, Leto made his way from the room. Yes, in a few years, with the help of his teachers—tested by the trials of a boy becoming a man—Paul would do very well, indeed.