At first, she was angry to receive such a brusque command from the Bene Gesserit. Not only were they meddling in Landsraad alliances and House Atreides matters but interfering in the choice of a future mate for her son.
Yet why would she be surprised? She had been raised and trained by the Sisterhood, and still had a strong loyalty to them. Though those bonds and obligations did not often come up in daily life here on Caladan, they were always present and in her awareness. Jessica could not forget. While she knew of the existence of the extensive breeding program, and she herself hoped for great things from Paul, she did not know the details of the Sisterhood’s vast plans.
Completely oblivious to such machinations, Thufir Hawat was presently studying the family trees of Landsraad members and developing a list of suggestions for Paul. Jessica had no personal stake in any of these names, and if she defied the Mother Superior’s wishes, the Bene Gesserit had invisible strings they could pull and subtle ways to punish her if she refused. How could she possibly eliminate all of these names from consideration? Would she have to lie? Leto was a proud man, and if he ever learned of the Sisterhood’s interference, he would probably choose one of the excluded women on purpose, just to spite them.
No, Leto could never know the instructions had come from the Mother School. He already harbored a deep resentment toward the Bene Gesserit, even though she was training Paul in important Sisterhood techniques.
Jessica considered resisting, but the Bene Gesserit had a hold on her. Technically, they could still command her and she had to obey, although they had been wise enough to use a soft touch in the years since she had been contracted as concubine to Leto Atreides. This was one of the first blatant requests they had ever made.
She drew a deep breath, remembering all she had learned on Wallach IX. Her first inclination was to resist their message of command just because she resented it—and secretly her love for Duke Leto overrode any obligations she held to the Sisterhood—but if culling out some candidates was so vital to the Bene Gesserit, she was obligated to at least research the names.
She had to find a way to serve both loyalties.
* * *
WHEN THUFIR HAWAT finished his list of suggested candidates for Paul, Duke Leto met with him as well as Jessica to discuss his son’s future wife. There were many political, financial, and personal considerations. As head of House Atreides, Leto had to make the best choice balanced among many alternatives, while also doing right by Paul.
He remembered his father’s strained, decaying relationship with Lady Helena from House Richese. Certainly, on paper, that match of two noble houses must have seemed ideal. It was not, and Leto wouldn’t fall into that trap. Hawat was analytical, but Jessica would help him make the right decision using her heart.
He decided to hold the discussion down in his fishing shack, a place he usually preferred to go by himself. Old Duke Paulus had built it as an isolated, rustic sanctuary where he could get away from his sharp-edged wife, and Leto also found the place relaxing, much less formal than his private study or the war room in the castle. He felt it was a better place to talk openly about such matters.
A mechanical lift connected the shack to the cliff above, but Leto preferred to use the steep stairs. He found the open air invigorating, and the view inspired him, looking out to sea and back up at the high towers of Castle Caladan. Leading the way, Leto descended a wooden staircase made slick by the moist air, and Jessica followed with graceful steps. Reaching the private structure in a sheltered cove at the base of the cliffs, Leto opened the door with a disconcerting creak and gestured gallantly inside. “After you, my Lady.”
Leto activated the warm glowglobes inside the main room, while Jessica tended to the thermal heaters to dispel the damp chill. No one had been here for more than a month. She glanced around. “This place is even more … austere than the last time I saw it.”
“It’s hardly a romantic hideaway, but I like the simplicity. When we get back, our castle suites will look much more comfortable by comparison.” He heated a pot of fresh water on the small stove. “I have tea, so we are not entirely without amenities.”
Jessica set out mugs. “I understand why you like it, just as you and Paul enjoy your rugged camping expeditions each year.”
They heard the mechanical noises of the lift as it descended the cliff tracks. Leto opened the door of the shack as Hawat arrived. Muttering, the grizzled old Mentat walked out onto the dock, favoring his left leg, which still bore scars from being gored during one of the Old Duke’s bullfights, years ago. He carried a leather valise, which he guarded as if it contained the codes for the family atomics. When he saw Leto, he tried to walk normally. Out of respect, the Duke pretended not to notice and gestured him inside.
Nets, poles, and other angling gear hung on the shack’s wooden walls, along with mounted trophies. Hawat looked at the largest stuffed fish, which had iridescent scales, bulging eyes, and ferocious-looking spines. “Ah, I was with your father when he caught that. The battle exhausted him as much as any bullfight. He said it was the best fish he ever tasted, though. Lady Helena declared the meal … adequate.”
Leto laughed. “I should invite you here more often, old friend.”
Hawat set his valise on the table. “That will not be necessary, my Lord. I am perfectly content with a drafty castle.”
Jessica handed mugs of steaming tea to both men and took one for herself.
Leto motioned the Mentat toward a sturdy chair at the table, a chair he himself usually sat in. Hawat set the leather case in front of him. “As you requested, my Lord, I have compiled a report on your son’s prospective marriage alliances. These are the names I feel would be most beneficial for House Atreides.”
“In a political sense,” Jessica said. “But there is more to picking a mate. We are curious to see which choices you think would make a good wife for our son.”
The Mentat glanced at her, then turned his attention back to the Duke. “I analyzed many factors and organized them for your consideration. You can of course give additional weight to subjective personal matters.” He displayed a long list of names. “No ordinary match will do for the heir to House Atreides, the future Duke of Caladan.”
Leto leaned forward to scan the list, with Jessica close beside him. He breathed in the faint honeysuckle scent of her hair.
Hawat produced documents from the valise and removed a small holoprojector, but did not activate it. “Searching through the Landsraad houses, I identified families with viable daughters within a reasonable age range. I had to establish my own parameters, since you did not specify how soon you would wish Paul to marry.”
Leto frowned. “We are merely exploring possibilities right now. He is still young.” He looked at Jessica, and she nodded in appreciation.
Hawat opened the dossier. “Given the limitations, I found nearly thirty possibilities. It is only the first sifting, so as to provide as many viable options as possible.”
There were so many Major and Minor Houses in the Landsraad, Leto was surprised even Hawat could remember all their names. Some were familiar to him, others completely new. Octavia Tootu, Danielle Kronin, Cae Norn, Rondi Constance Urda, Junu Verdun, Hecate Dinovo, Nir Piriya, Maya Ginia, Noria Bonner, Greta Naribo, and many more. After glancing over them a couple of times, they stopped having meaning. Jessica scrutinized the list, and Leto saw her briefly stiffen, then hide her reaction.