“Justice?” The Duke looked at the man. “Who asks for justice? We make our own justice. We make it here on Arrakis—win or die. Do you regret casting your lot with us, sir?” The man stared at the Duke, then: “No, Sire. You couldn’t turn and I could do nought but follow you. Forgive the outburst, but….” He shrugged. “…we must all feel bitter at times.” “Bitterness I understand,” the Duke said. “But let us not rail about justice as long as we have arms and the freedom to use them.
