He was
a warrior and mystic, ogre and saint, the fox and the innocent,
chivalrous, ruthless, less than a god, more than a man. There is
no measuring Muad’Dib’s motives by ordinary standards. In the moment
of his triumph, he saw the death prepared for him, yet he accepted
the treachery. Can you say he did this out of a sense of justice?
Whose justice, then? Remember, we speak now of the Muad’Dib that
ordered battle drums made from his enemies' skins, the Muad’Dib
that denied the conventions of his ducal past with a wave of the
hand, saying merely: “I am the Kwisatz Haderach. That is reason
enough.”
