Duncan looked unhappy that I had casually revealed their plot to make the Fremen help them. Moreover, my words had unsettled him a bit.
I smiled at Duncan, who looked at me suspiciously.
"I don't trust the words of a stranger. And I won't bring an unknown person to meet my Liege."
I nodded as I looked at him with a smile.
I had come to this world with a powerful weapon that could transform into any weapon I need.
It was a malleable orb that could take the form of any mortal weapon and work with me in any environment.
With a smile, my hand reached within the folds of my sleeves as a knife was drawn which caused the Fremen to look surprised at the hidden weapon.
"Shall we dance, Duncan Idaho? Maybe this will help you find a measure of my word and my abilities?"
Duncan looked at Stilgar who stared at my blade and nodded.
With the tacit approval of the Naib, Duncan reached for his own knife by his side as he wielded it like typical special forces wielded their mêlée weapons in a backhanded grip.
Mêlée fights were something that most special forces and covert operatives trained their assets to excel in. Close Quarter Combat or CQC was an important ability that often distinguished between experienced veterans in asymmetric warfare in urban settings.
As a former operative who had earned my patch from Marine Recon Force One, Delta Force Spec Ops and JSOC division six, my abilities were a bit rusty with age, but not forgotten. And with the Essence of the Warlord, these abilities were bolstered many times over.
Most veterans of knife fights would tell you that all techniques and katas, that trainers teach you, goes out of the window when facing an enemy. Your brain goes into a focused state where your senses acknowledge the threat to your life from the opponent before you and blur your ability to recognise or orient yourself based on your surroundings.
This focus is useful for the body to assess threats and act swiftly. But it is also a hindrance as it makes you blind to the external factors that can affect your fight with your opponent.
For this reason, special forces drill sergeants engage the probies in knife fights and surprise them randomly to throw them off. In the real world, there is no arena for a gladiatorial fight. Your enemies won't stand aside and wait for your duel. They would try everything to change the outcome that is not in your favour.
Distractions can take lives, but single-minded focus on your opponent can lead to death due to unexpected factors.
As someone trained for such situations, the concept of duel was utterly alien to me. But, due to the Essence, the world might as well be broadcasting the threats to me.
I smelt the remnants of the last meal on Duncan's beard, odour of a woman on his neck and his hair that meant he recently engaged in coitus with Fremen locals. I smelt the oil on his knife and saw the cracked edge about two inches above the finger guard.
My superhuman senses saw the fading scar under his palm, and the pores of his skin clogged, telling me he hasn't had a good bath for a while.
I smelt his body and his odour was not what I sensed. Instead my predatory senses focused on the serotonin and the high dosage of hormones showing his battle readiness. My senses were so enhanced that beyond recognizing the smell of hormones, I could easily distinguish each odour as if unraveling the strands from a particularly tricky knot.
His thin sheen of sweat under his chin told me the discomfort he faced even in the cool insides of the Sietch as I looked at his eyes and saw the ocular veins showing a slight discolouration telling me he was not receiving proper nutrients.
As soon as this conversation turned into a fight, my mind became alert as all my senses rather than hindering me as my training and past experience told me, instead aided me to fight beyond the known human limits.
And that was why, when I faced Duncan Idaho, a man rumoured to be stronger and more capable than the famed and feared Sardaukar, the powerful trained soldiers of the Imperium and private army of House Corrino, my smile turned into a feral smirk.
As the tall and broad shouldered man saw the dangerous posture of his enemy, his back edged slightly, his knees bent to propel him at his enemy and his eyes sharpened as he stared at me.
And I?
I smirked at the man as my fingers coiled around the knife and prepared for this test of my own making.
"May your knife chip and shatter!"
Duncan proclaimed as I smirked at him.
"I hope you survive."
Stilgar POV
While the two outsiders exchanged their words preparing for the fight, Stilgar watched with his people wondering about the newcomer's words.
While Duncan came to Arrakis with fear for his master and their political backstabbing in the wider Imperium, this Changez was... different.
In some ways, it felt as if he was speaking to his elders and to the wise women and the Reverend Mother who spoke cryptically and knew more than she told.
And when an Outsider walks the desert without any aid, without any equipment, without any Stillsuit in the desert than should cook the man alive from the heat, a man like Stilgar wonders if this was even a man who sought them.
Stilgar believed in the desert. He was born with his belief in the desert and in the power of the destined fate of the Fremen. He believed in a higher purpose, of one day enabling or succeeding in freeing his people from the tyrannical pursuits of the Imperium who seek to only ravage their planet in their mindless hunger for this spice that they harvest from the very soil of the planet that gave birth to Stilgar and Fremen like him.
As a Naib, he believed in the foretold prophecy of Lisan-Al-Gaib, in the legend of a mother and a son who shall bring freedom and plenty for his people.
And that belief led him to assist this Outsider Duncan Idaho and allow him the shelter of this Sietch Tabr.
But Changez...
Changez unsettled him in ways that he couldn't describe. Even now, he glanced at Jamis who looked at Changez with apprehension.
His men had clearly searched him for weapons. And yet...
Stilgar stared at the way Changez held his weapon as he felt his instincts flare at the dangerous man.
And clearly, Duncan, who was a capable warrior himself, felt this strange danger from this outsider, too.
Duncan rushed at Changez with speeds his men couldn't keep up with, as the huge man aimed to finish the fight as quickly as he could. But Changez was undeterred as Stilgar saw their strange fight at speeds most warriors cannot keep up with.
Duncan swiped with his knife aiming to slit his throat as Changez leaned low and elbowed Duncan, his left leg locking with Duncan's right.
A quick maneuver and Duncan was on his back with a knife to the back of his neck as Changez nicked Duncan with his knife before he stood up and stared at the formidable man he bested within mere seconds.
Duncan looked at Changez with shock as his empty hand reached for the back of his neck and felt the wet sensation as he saw a small line of blood.
Changez playfully flicked his tongue on the knife's edge as he licked the blood on his blade and put it away with the casual disregard that he drew the blade to begin with.
His other hand reached out and threw the blade at Duncan's feet who stared at his knife in horror as Stilgar looked at Changez with shock.
When had he disarmed Duncan?
Are these the skills of the Outside World? How can his people even keep up with these men who were no longer even human?
"Now, may we resume talking with words, when your blade failed to speak your mind?"
Changez spoke with casual ease as Stilgar felt a shiver grow in his spine. Oh desert! What demon walks these sands now?
Changez POV
I stared at the powerful man who would keep his legend as Bene Tleilax make bio-terminator from Duncan Idaho that serve them in the Dune series as a powerful deterrent.
He was not a less powerful man for losing so quickly to me. In fact, it is a matter of pride that he survived for as long as he did.
The Essence of the Warlord was an unprecedented Out of Context problem for people of this world. For some, it could even be magic.
The experiences and training I had with any combat arts were magnified as the Essence seamlessly blended the training, the kata and the movements as well as my ability to fluidly adapt to these training memories. My experiences were remembered with stark clarity as I flinched at the several mistakes and small disjointed motions that made me internally cringe at my lack of understanding of these combat arts.
And while this was happening, my mind processed every movement of every human being around me and fed information filtered to make me more efficient with fights.
My body slowly adapted to these changes as I adapted and my muscle reflexes and hand-to-eye coordination became smoother and much much faster.
Peak human limits was not a joke. For most people of this world, I may as well be Superman. I am faster, stronger, hit harder and undeterred by the weaknesses of their mortal flesh.
Every victory makes me better, and defeating Duncan with my supernatural abilities just made me a tad better. Not overly much, but enough to notice.
I am born to fight. With the Essence, my body grows and adapts to adversities. The spice in the air makes my senses feel overcharged, as I feel the air shimmer around me and the currents of the air transitioning as we go higher in the Sietch.
My mind feels like it was drudged in a swamp, and just now, it had stomped out of the thickened sludge. I feel awakened and more alive that before.
The colours are more vibrant and more real.
And I can sense it. It was a good decision to be here. This world is fret with distraught and schemes. Mind games and selfish plans are all abound. There is no reprieve for the innocent and unambitious here. And yet, within this galactic quagmire of human greed and desire, I am free.
There are no strings to bind me, no hand to grasp my leash. There is no fate, not destiny to stop me. No other factors or entity to hinder me.
For once, I am unfettered and unchained. And I am going to stir enough pots here to mess with all these selfish ambitions of Harkonnens, the Bene Gesserit Order and all the power brokers of this Universe.