Dune: House Atreides (81 page)

Thufir Hawat sat on Leto's right and a proud and effusive Rhombur Vernius on his left. On the other side of Rhombur sat his sister Kailea, who had joined the delegation after Leto was freed. She had rushed to Kaitain to see the coronation and to stand beside her brother -- her emerald eyes dazzled with every fresh sight. Not a moment went by without Kailea gasping or exclaiming in delight at some new marvel. Leto's heart warmed to see such utter joy in her, the first he'd noticed since their flight from Ix.

While Rhombur wore Vernius purple and copper, Kailea chose to drape her creamy shoulders with an Atreides cloak sporting red hawk armorial crests, like Leto's.

Clutching his forearm and letting him escort her to their seats, Kailea told him with a soft smile, "I chose these colors out of respect for the host who granted us sanctuary, and to commemorate the restored fortunes of House Atreides." She kissed him on the cheek.

Since the matter of the death sentence on House Vernius still hung like a thick cloud on the horizon, the siblings attended the festivities at considerable personal risk. In the present atmosphere of celebration, however, Thufir Hawat surmised that they were probably safe, provided they didn't overstay their welcome. When Leto first heard this, he laughed. "Thufir, do Mentats ever provide guarantees?" Hawat did not find this amusing.

Though the coronation and Imperial wedding were among the safest places in the universe because of the intense public attention, Leto doubted that Dominic Vernius would show his face. Even now, after vindictive Elrood's death, Rhombur's father had not ventured out of hiding, had not sent them any sort of message whatsoever.

Across the rear of the cavernous theatre, on both the main and upper levels, sat representatives of Houses Minor and various factions among CHOAM, the Spacing Guild, the Mentats, the Suk doctors, and other power bases scattered across the million worlds. House Harkonnen had their own segregated section in an upper balcony; the Baron, attending without his nephew Rabban, refused even to glance in the direction of the Atreides seats.

"The colors, the sounds, the perfumes -- it's making me dizzy," Kailea said, drawing a deep breath and leaning closer to Leto. "I've never seen anything like this -- on Ix, or on Caladan."

Leto said, "No one in the Imperium has seen anything like this in almost a hundred and forty years."

In the first row, directly in front of the Atreides, sat a contingent of Bene Gesserit women in identical black robes, including withered Mother Superior Harishka. On the other side of the aisle from the quiet and manipulative women stood fully armed Sardaukar in ceremonial uniforms.

The Bene Gesserit delegation greeted fresh-faced Reverend Mother Anirul, the Empress-to-be, as she passed the group, accompanied by a large honor guard and garishly dressed ladies-in-waiting. Rhombur searched for the stunning blonde woman who'd given him the mysterious message cube, and found her sitting with Hasimir Fenring instead of with the other Sisters.

An air of expectation filled the high-ceilinged, tiered facility. Finally, a hush fell over the Grand Theatre, and everyone stood respectfully, holding their hats and caps.

Crown Prince Shaddam, attired in a formal Sardaukar commander's uniform with silver epaulets and the Golden Lion crest of House Corrino, marched down the aisle on a carpet of velvet and damask. His red hair was pomaded with glitter.

Members of his royal Court followed him, all of them wearing scarlet and gold.

Bringing up the rear was the green-robed High Priest of Dur, who had by tradition crowned every Emperor since the fall of the thinking machines.

Despite the varying fortunes of his ancient religion, the High Priest proudly sprinkled the iron-red holy dust of Dur right and left onto the audience.

Seeing Shaddam's stately pace and how smartly uniformed he was, Leto recalled when the Crown Prince had marched up another aisle only days earlier to testify on his behalf. In a way, it seemed to him that his royal cousin had looked even more regal then, swathed in the fine silks and jewels of an Emperor. Now he looked more like a soldier -- the commander in chief of all Imperial forces.

"An obvious political move," Hawat said, leaning over to mutter in his ear. "Do you notice? Shaddam is letting the Sardaukar know that their new Emperor considers himself a member of their organization, that they are important to his reign."

Leto nodded, understanding this practice well. Like his father before him, the young Duke fraternized with his men, dining with them and joining them in everyday functions to show that he would never ask his troops to do what he wouldn't do himself.

"Looks to me like more show than substance," Rhombur said.

"In ruling a vast empire, there's a place for show," Kailea said. With a pang, Leto recalled the Old Duke's penchant for bullfights and other spectacles.

Shaddam reveled in the grandeur, bathed himself in glory. He bowed as he strutted past his future wife and the Bene Gesserit contingent. His coronation would come first. At the designated place, Shaddam came to a stop and turned to face the High Priest of Dur, who now held the glittering Imperial crown on a gilded pillow.

Behind the Crown Prince, a wide curtain opened to reveal the royal dais, which had been moved here. The massive Imperial throne, empty now, had been carved from a single piece of blue-green quartz -- the largest such gem ever found, dating back to the days of Emperor Hassik III. Hidden projectors shot fine-tuned lasers into the depths of the block of crystal, refracting a nova of rainbows. The audience gasped at the translucent beauty of the throne.

Indeed, there is a place for ceremony in the daily workings of the Imperium, Leto thought. It has a unifying influence, making people feel they belong to something significant.

Such ceremonies cemented the impression that Humanity, not Chaos, reigned over the universe. Even a self-serving Emperor like Shaddam could do some good, Leto felt . . . and fervently hoped.

Solemnly, the Crown Prince climbed the steps of the royal dais and seated himself on the throne, staring fixedly ahead. Following time-honored procedure, the High Priest moved behind him and raised the jeweled crown high in the air.

"Do you, Crown Prince Shaddam Raphael Corrino IV, swear fidelity to the Holy Empire?"

The priest's voice carried throughout the theatre, over speakers of such high quality that everyone in the audience heard completely natural, undistorted sounds. The same words were transmitted around the planet of Kaitain, and would be spread throughout the Imperium.

"I do," Shaddam said, his voice booming.

The High Priest lowered the symbol of office onto the seated man's brow, and to the gathered dignitaries he said, "I give you the new Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV, may his reign shine as long as the stars!"

"May his reign shine as long as the stars!" the audience intoned in a thunderous response.

When Shaddam rose from the throne with the glittering crown on his head, he did so as Emperor of the Known Universe. Thousands inside the chamber applauded and cheered him. He looked across the audience that was a microcosm of everything he ruled, and his gaze came to rest on doe-eyed Anirul, who had moved to stand just below the dais with her honor guard and ladies-in-waiting. The Emperor extended a hand, beckoning her.

Harishka, Mother Superior of the Bene Gesserit, guided Anirul to Shaddam's side.

The magnificent women moved with the faultless glide-walk of the Sisterhood, as if Shaddam were a magnet drawing them into his presence. Then ancient Harishka returned to her seat with the other Bene Gesserit.

The priest said words over the couple, while the new Emperor slipped two diamond rings onto the marriage finger of Anirul's hand, followed by a breathtaking red soostone band that had belonged to his paternal grandmother.

When they were pronounced Emperor and Lady, the High Priest of Dur presented them to the assemblage. In the audience, Hasimir Fenring leaned over and whispered to Margot, "Shall we step forward and see if the High Priest can squeeze in another quick ceremony?"

She giggled, nudged him playfully.

THAT EVENING, HEDONISM in the capital city reached a fever pitch of adrenaline, pheromones, and music. The royal couple attended a sumptuous dinner banquet followed by a grand ball and then by a magnificent culinary orgy that made the earlier meal appear to have been no more than an appetizer. As the newlyweds departed for the Imperial Palace, they were showered with merh-silk roses and chased by the nobles.

Finally Emperor Shaddam IV and Lady Anirul retired to their marriage bed.

Outside their room drunken noblemen and ladies rang crystal bells and floated bright glowglobes at the windows -- the traditional shivaree that would bring blessings of fertility upon the union.

These festivities continued much as they had for millennia, going back to pre-Butlerian days, to the very roots of the Imperium. More than a thousand expensive gifts were arrayed on the lawn of the Palace. These offerings would be gathered by Imperial servants and distributed later to the populace, in conjunction with an additional week of festivities on Kaitain.

After all the celebrations were complete, Shaddam would finally be able to get down to the business of ruling his Empire of a Million Worlds.

In the final analysis, the legendary event called Leto's Gambit became the basis of the young Duke Atreides's immense popularity. He successfully projected himself as a shining beacon of honor in a galactic sea of darkness. To many members of the Landsraad, Leto's honesty and naivete became a symbol of honor that shamed many of the Great and Minor Houses to alter their behavior toward each other . . . for a short time, at least, until familiar old patterns reemerged.

-Origins of House Atreides: Seeds of the Future in the Galactic Imperium, by Bronso of Ix

Furious that his plot had failed, Baron Harkonnen raged up and down the halls of his family Keep on Giedi Prime. He screamed demands that his personal staff find a dwarf for him to torture; he needed a creature to dominate, something he could crush entirely.

When Yh'imm, one of the Baron's entertainment monitors, complained that it wasn't exactly sporting for him to persecute a man solely on the basis of his physical size, the Baron ordered Yh'imm's legs amputated at the knees. In that way, the soon-to-be-shortened entertainment monitor would fit the Procrustean bill nicely.

As the howling, pleading man was hauled away to the Harkonnen surgeons, the Baron summoned his nephew Glossu Rabban and the Mentat Piter de Vries to attend him for a vital discussion, to be held in the Baron's workroom.

Waiting for them at a worktable spread with papers and ridulian crystal reports, the Baron boomed in his basso voice, "Damn the Atreides, from the boy-Duke to his bastard ancestors! I wish they'd all died in the Battle of Corrin."

He whirled when de Vries entered the workroom doorway, and the Baron nearly lost his balance with suddenly clumsy muscle control. He grasped the edge of the table to steady himself. "How could Leto survive that trial? He had no proof, no defense." Muted glowglobes floated overhead in the room. "He still doesn't have a clue what really happened."

The Baron's bellow echoed through the enclosure and out an open door into the halls, which were lined with polished stone and brasswork. Rabban hurried down the corridor. "And damn Shaddam for his meddling! Just because he's Emperor, what gives him the right to take sides? What's in it for him?"

Both Rabban and de Vries hesitated at the iron-arched entrance to the workroom, not anxious to step into the maelstrom of the Baron's wrath. The Mentat closed his eyes and rubbed his thick eyebrows, trying to think of what to say or do.

Rabban went to an alcove and poured himself a strong glass of kirana brandy. He made slurping animal noises as he drank.

The Baron stepped away from the table and paced the floor, his movements oddly jerky, as if he were having difficulty controlling his equilibrium. His clothes seemed tight on him from his recent weight gains.

"It was supposed to start a sudden war, and after the carnage who could pick up the pieces? But somehow the damned Atreides kept everyone from killing each other. By insisting on a risky Trial by Forfeiture -- ancient rites be damned!

-- and his willingness to sacrifice himself just to protect his precious friends and crew, Leto Atreides has gained favorable attention in the Landsraad. His popularity is soaring."

Piter de Vries cleared his throat. "Perhaps, my Baron, it was a mistake to pit them against the Tleilaxu. Nobody cares about the Tleilaxu. It was difficult to foster a general sense of outrage among the Houses. We never planned for this matter to come to trial."

"We made no mistakes!" Rabban grunted, immediately defending his uncle. "Do you value your life, Piter?"

De Vries didn't respond, nor did he show any fear. He was a formidable fighter in his own right, with tricks and experience that could undoubtedly defeat Rabban's brawn, should it come to physical combat.

The Baron looked at his nephew, disappointed. You never seem to grasp anything buried beneath even a single layer of subtlety.

Rabban glared at the Mentat. "Duke Leto is just an impetuous young ruler from an unremarkable family. House Atreides makes its income through selling . . .

pundi rice!" He spat the words.

"The fact is, Rabban," the twisted Mentat said smoothly, with the voice of a snake, "that the other members of the Landsraad Council actually seem to like him. They admire what this boy-Duke has accomplished. We've made him a hero."

Rabban finished his drink, poured another, slurped it.

"The Landsraad Council becoming altruistic?" The Baron snorted. "That's even more unbelievable than Leto winning his case."

From the surgery rooms down the long, dim halls, grisly noises could be heard, screams of agony that echoed along the corridors all the way to the Baron's workroom. The muted glowglobes flickered, but maintained their low level of illumination.