The Winds of Dune (15 page)

Over the ensuing weeks, Irulan returned to her writings with a passion and enthusiasm that took Jessica by surprise. The Princess seemed intent on preserving—and exaggerating—the memory of Paul. In a creative fervor, she wrote chapters that expanded the glorious legend of Muad’Dib, taking even more liberties than she had during Paul’s lifetime.

Finding it alarming and distasteful, Jessica decided to speak with Irulan. For Paul’s sake.

In her private wing of the immense citadel, the Princess had selected the décor and worked with craftsmen and artisans to create an echo of the Corrino palace on Kaitain, where she had grown up. Irulan had her own courtyards and glassed-in greenhouses, dry fountains and wind-scoured obelisks. She kept to herself on the Citadel grounds and did not often venture out in public.

Making her way without escort or criers, Jessica found the Princess in a courtyard gazebo, scribing words onto crystal sheets. The younger woman glanced up, and tucked a loose strand of gold hair behind her ear. “Lady Jessica, this is an unexpected pleasure.” She gestured toward an empty seat beside her at the writing table. “Join me. I’m always happy to talk with you.”

“You haven’t yet heard what I have to say.”

The words elicited a frown. “Have I done something to displease you?”

Taking the offered seat, Jessica did not mince words. “Paul deserves better than shameless propaganda. You’ve always shaded the truth one way or the other, Irulan, and most of the time I could not fault you for it, because you came close to representing my son accurately. But now, when I compare your histories with known and irrefutable facts, I find them far from the mark. The new revisions to
The Life of Muad’Dib
are very disturbing.”

“Alia’s revisions.” Irulan tried to cover her embarrassment. “In any case, who can know every fact? My purpose is not to memorialize dry data, but to aid our government in these uncertain times, for the sake of Imperial security. You know the way of it. We were both trained by the Sisterhood.”

“I know what Alia wants, and I understand the necessity for propaganda, but now . . . nothing negative at all? Not the tiniest thing? Even starry-eyed pilgrims can see your obvious slant.”

“In Alia’s view, the slant itself provides balance.” Irulan straightened her back. “She’s right, actually. Bronso’s constant unflattering revelations are doing a great deal of damage, and I find them personally reprehensible. They weaken the Regency at its most fragile, unstable moment, when it’s just getting under way. So, if my writings are overly favorable toward Muad’Dib in portraying historical events, it is only to counter the slander.” The emotion in Irulan’s voice surprised Jessica. “History is in
my
hands—Paul himself told me that. I can’t let Bronso’s seditious tracts go unchallenged.”

Jessica let out a long sigh. She had kept Paul’s secret for many years, but now she decided that Irulan needed to know. “There’s a key point you don’t understand.”

Irulan set down her stylus and pushed the crystal sheets away. She seemed stiff and overly formal. “Then enlighten me. What is it, exactly, that I am missing?”

“That Bronso was once
Paul’s friend
.”

Irulan frowned. “I studied Paul’s youth, so I know of his contacts with House Vernius.”

“And you know as well that there was a falling out between the Atreides and the Ixians.”

“Yes, but the historical record is sketchy and vague. It was not a subject that Paul wanted to discuss, though I did ask him about it.”

Jessica lowered her voice, concerned that someone might be eavesdropping, although these events were common knowledge to a person willing to dig into old Imperial records. “The two Houses once had strong ties, and Paul met Bronso when the Vernius family went to Caladan for Duke Leto’s wedding. Later, when Paul was twelve, he traveled to Ix to study with Bronso—just as my Leto went to study with Rhombur Vernius when he was young. Duke Leto felt it was important for Paul’s training, to make him the next leader of Caladan. The boys became the best of friends—blood brothers sworn to guard each other’s life. Until everything changed.”

With the comment hanging between them, Jessica met the other woman’s inquisitive gaze. Then Jessica proceeded to tell the story.

PART II
10,188 AG

Paul Atreides, age twelve, six months after the end of the War of Assassins between House Ecaz and House Moritani

Three years before House Atreides leaves Caladan for Arrakis

I do not regret any of the challenges of my youth. Each experience shaped me into what I am today. If you want to understand me and my motivations, look backward.

—
Conversations with Muad’Dib
by the
PRINCESS IRULAN

D
isembarking from the Heighliner at Ix, the Lady Jessica rode with young Paul, Duncan, and Gurney on one of the many shuttles to the surface, whereupon they descended through the crust to the cavern city of Vernii.

Jessica saw her son gazing at the immense enclosed space, fascinated by the artificial sky, graceful support girders, and glittering columns that extended from cavern floor to ceiling. The open area pulsed with activity, whirred with the sound of smoothly functioning machinery, and Paul said, “My father told me of his time studying here with House Vernius, but his descriptions did not do justice to this place.”

Gurney struggled not to show how impressed he was by the view. “You will find it time well spent, young Master. A worthy tradition—like father, like son.”

Duncan stood rigid, perhaps remembering when he had come to Ix in the battle to restore Rhombur to the throne. “Your invitation here demonstrates to everyone that House Vernius has restored normalcy to Ix after the Tleilaxu invaders were ousted.”

Jessica took her son by the arm. “As for me, I’m looking forward to seeing Bronso’s mother again. Tessia has written me often to tell me how much she misses Caladan.”

“Then we should get to the Grand Palais,” Paul said. “It would be rude to keep Bronso and his family waiting for us.” He was barely able to restrain his eagerness to begin his new adventure.

The past year’s experiences had dramatically matured Paul: his first trip offworld to Ecaz, his first taste of battle during the War of Assassins on Caladan and Grumman. Duke Leto had commented on the boy’s early transition to manhood, and Jessica could not help but agree. Whenever she guided him through prana-bindu exercises, pushing the boundaries of his mental and muscular abilities, she had begun to see him as an adult. Even at age twelve, Paul was more prepared for the hazards of his life than many of the Landsraad nobles she had met. Jessica thought Paul’s eyes looked wiser now than they had even half a year ago.

With businessmen, CHOAM representatives, and industrialists arriving and departing in a constant flow of shuttles, the city of Vernii was a bustling blur of activity. The small Atreides group made their way from the shuttle arrival area toward the inverted palace structure that glittered amidst the other industrial buildings. From the gliding tram that whisked them along the ceiling, they could see a dizzying view of diamond lattice columns that supported the ceiling, as well as the skeleton of an immense Heighliner being built on the wide cavern floor. The Spacing Guild constantly needed new ships, and construction continued at a furious pace.

When they reached the expansive portico station of the Grand Palais, Paul pointed to a tall, red-haired boy, whom he knew to be eleven years old. “There’s Bronso!” Overhead, crystal chandeliers glittered with myriad prisms, while hidden sonic vibrators in the walls played recorded Ixian folk songs.

Among the arrival party, Jessica was glad to see her old friend Tessia, a fellow Bene Gesserit concubine sent from Wallach IX as a partner to the exiled Prince Rhombur after the temporary overthrow of House Vernius by the Tleilaxu. Rhombur had taken sanctuary on Caladan for years, until he rallied enough of his people to oust the invaders and return Ix to normal rule.

As the Earl of Ix now, Rhombur Vernius was by far the most distinctive in the group greeting Jessica, a patchwork man made of artificial limbs and cyborg systems, reassembled by the Suk doctor Wellington
Yueh after a horrific skyclipper explosion. Dr. Yueh himself, Rhombur’s personal physician, also accompanied the welcoming party. Jessica remembered him from his years on Caladan, when he tended the recovering Rhombur.

Earl Vernius moved with an uneven, strained gait, as if his synthetic muscles were no longer coordinated. “Welcome! Welcome, my Atreides friends.” He lurched forward, his eyes—one real and one artificial—fixed on Paul. “The son of my dear Leto. And Jessica . . . Duncan Idaho, Gurney Halleck! How pleased I am to see you all again.”

Bronso looked at his father, then joked. “He’s also pleased because this gave him an excuse to skip the Technocrat Council meeting.”

The cyborg Earl straightened. “Uh,
this
is much more important. Friends and family. I promised Duke Leto that his son would feel at home here.”

Paul bowed formally. “I present myself to the noble family of Ix. Thank you for hosting me, and providing me with this experience.”

Tessia extended her hand for Paul to take in formal greeting, then gave him a quick hug. “There are always things to learn. We’ll have plenty of time together—and Jessica, I look forward to renewed conversations with you. It’s been a very long time.” She looked at her husband. “But the Earl really should be getting back to the Council meeting. What would Bolig Avati do without you, my dear?”

Rhombur made a rude grunt. “They do what they like, no matter what I say.” He leaned forward, speaking conspiratorially to Paul and Jessica. “Four times in the past two years, they’ve tried to stage accidents to get rid of me, but I haven’t been able to prove anything.” When Duncan and Gurney reacted with alarm, the cyborg nobleman merely grinned. “Uh, not to worry. I’ve promised Duke Leto that you’ll be safe here.”

“And my father made me promise to keep Bronso safe,” Paul said.

The other boy flushed. “I thought I was supposed to watch out for
you
.”

Rhombur gave a sober nod. “Exactly. You both gave your word to your fathers. Now you are bound to watch out for each other, guarding and supporting each other in all possible ways. That is the bond between Vernius and Atreides. A pledge between friends is more binding than any legal document.”

The cyborg man tried to reassure Jessica, Gurney, and Duncan. “Don’t worry—I know who my friends and enemies are. Still, the way the technocrats keep whittling away at my responsibilities, I’m becoming a mere figurehead. Soon enough, I won’t be worth the trouble for them to make an assassination attempt.”

“Then we should stand up to what they’re doing!” Bronso said. “I’m going to be Earl someday.”

Rhombur swiveled his head. “Wait your time, my son, before getting your hands dirty. Be patient, and learn everything you can.”

As they stood among the crowds in the portico station, a lift came down through the ceiling from the surface, and three black-robed women emerged. Jessica spotted the delegation, and some instinct warned her not to draw their attention. The stern-looking Bene Gesserits, two of them Reverend Mothers, glided like self-important crows through the people in the reception foyer as additional trams docked.