She gazed sidelong at her teenage son and thought of his potential. When Paul was just a child, she’d often watched him at play, but now he had turned to more serious pursuits, training to become the next Duke of Caladan. No longer a boy, but not quite a man, either. She wished he could enjoy what little freedom and innocence he might still have. He had no friends his age, no flirtations or dalliances with local girls. At least he had Gurney Halleck and Duncan Idaho as his trainers, protectors, and friends.
She said, calm and firm, “As the Duke’s son, you must decide and define your role, your identity. How will you handle yourself?”
As he stared out to sea, he showed no sign that he’d heard her. Jessica could see he was deep in thought. Silently, she slipped out of the room.
* * *
DISTURBED AFTER THE previous night’s unexpectedly weighty conversation with his son, Leto consulted Thufir Hawat. The warrior Mentat had been Leto’s own mentor and trainer when he was young. Hawat had just returned from copiloting a patrol aircraft on its rounds, verifying that House Atreides security was being performed to his satisfaction.
The two met in the Atreides family museum, a small collection of valuable artifacts that was open to the public twice a month. Earlier in the morning, a burglar had been arrested by Hawat’s guards, caught trying to steal one of the first Atreides hawks, a small metal sculpture several centuries old. The very attempt had exposed an unusual lapse in watchfulness, which concerned Leto more than the attempted robbery. The old Mentat quickly vowed to review all household patrols and external security measures.
Leto was distracted by his racing thoughts, though. “I am certain you will get to the bottom of it, Thufir.” After the conversation with Paul, he had finally come to a decision. He remained silent for a moment, and then because Hawat was such a close personal friend, he brought up the other matter that had been troubling him.
“My son is concerned about his role in House Atreides, his future as my heir.” He inhaled. “And he is correct to worry. Two years ago, everything was thrown into doubt when I agreed to marry Ilesa Ecaz. His stability vanished, and he’s never forgotten. If I ever formally married, a legitimate heir would call his own succession into question. Now, after the attack on Otorio, there will be much upheaval in the Landsraad, and many more marriage alliances will be available—and required.” He shook his head. “Though I have asked the Emperor for nothing, I’ve had to publicly keep my options open, at the expense of my son and the woman I love, I fear.”
“Politics change,” Hawat said. “Someday a wedding to another House might become necessary.”
“But what about the people I am hurting?”
Hawat drew his heavy eyebrows together. “It is a political reality, my Lord, and all you can do is diminish the damage. Show Paul and Jessica the love they seek, but hold your ground. Lady Jessica is fully aware of this fact. As is Paul.”
Leto looked up at him. “I do not intend to set Jessica aside. If a marriage alliance is required, we must bow to political necessity, at least for appearances’ sake. But I have another solution.”
Hawat straightened, intrigued.
“Paul is now fourteen,” Leto said. “If the Landsraad demands that House Atreides consider a marriage alliance, then let us approach the matter from a different direction, one that will at least keep them talking and distracted.”
“How can I help, my Lord?”
“I want you to research and suggest candidates for a possible marriage to Paul.”
Masks and uniforms cannot hide all the secrets of our past.
—COLONEL BASHAR JOPATI KOLONA, private journal
Standing beside the Golden Lion Throne while the Emperor held court, the Sardaukar commander remained motionless. He could not allow outsiders to see that he was simmering and alert for danger.
Colonel Bashar Jopati Kolona had been at Otorio and investigated Duke Leto’s warning of suspicious activity. He himself had ensured the evacuation of the Emperor and his immediate retinue. He would never allow such a threat to happen again.
Now Landsraad nobles came forward into the Imperial audience chamber to express their concern for their beloved Shaddam IV, making certain they were noticed and remembered. They mourned all those killed in Jaxson Aru’s heinous attack, but the Sardaukar guard could tell that every one of these people also had their eyes on the empty seats, vacant holdings, and wealth that might be up for grabs.…
For most of his life, Jopati Kolona had watched how Imperial politics shaded reality, changed the recording of history, and swept disfavored noble families into obscurity. Jopati’s own Great House had been overthrown many years ago in a scheme concocted by Emperor Elrood and Duke Paulus Atreides, an act of treachery that the man would never forget or forgive.
Shaddam’s father had somehow convinced, or blackmailed, Paulus Atreides to launch a surprise attack on the House Kolona homeworld of Borhees, killing some of Jopati’s family members, driving the young man, along with his father and brothers, into hiding. Eventually, Duke Paulus had tracked down the guerilla fighters, with—Jopati knew now—the secret aid of Imperial Sardaukar disguised in Atreides uniforms. Young Jopati Kolona and his brothers had been captured, then exiled to the prison planet of Salusa Secundus, where they were recruited and trained as Sardaukar themselves.
After a lifetime in the ruthless military corps, the colonel bashar had no remaining House, but he did not forget. He had excelled among the Sardaukar, rose to become an officer, and now served directly at the Emperor’s side. He was loyal, but always remembered that his family had been wiped out, their holdings stripped away. It left him with perpetual dark feelings, an enmity that he concealed from everyone.
The people who had committed that terrible betrayal were gone, dead for years, but House Atreides and House Corrino remained. On the other hand, the colonel bashar could not forget how young Duke Leto Atreides had surprised him with an unexpected act of generosity and honor.…
* * *
EXHAUSTED AFTER HOLDING court for hours, Emperor Shaddam retired to his quarters to rest and ponder. He had not slept well since the Otorio mess, wrestling with his many possible responses and reactions—if only he knew where to strike. He had appointed several commissions to dig deeper into the Noble Commonwealth movement, to uproot further sedition. Was Jaxson Aru just an impetuous lone wolf with a personal grudge? How widespread was this supposed uprising whose goal was to end millennia of Corrino rule?
Empress Aricatha went about her own activities to discuss the remodeling progress with a construction crew supervisor in the north wing of the palace. Though Shaddam wanted to mount a dramatic response to the rebels—wherever they might be—his wife insisted that the work of the Imperium must continue for the sake of appearances. She even advised downplaying the disaster on “that minor planet.”
In his plush apartments, Shaddam reclined on a daybed, propping himself up on pillows, but knowing he wouldn’t sleep. So many problems! He realized he was not well liked among the nobles. Much of the Landsraad would even applaud the breakup of the Imperium, but he could not believe they would engage in an outright civil war, as Jaxson Aru advocated.