Dardik took a jittering step backward. “I am not a good candidate for that.” The failed Mentat scuttled out of the office.
Fenring nodded, lost in thought. “I am the Imperial Observer here. We will find someone appropriate.”
The worth of a person’s heart and soul is not determined by outside opinion but is measured from within.
—Zensunni Wisdom
When Leto returned to Castle Caladan from the military base, he was sickened, reeling. Four good pilots had been vaporized in the senseless pseudo-atomic explosion.
He had underestimated the size and power of Chaen Marek’s ailar production and smuggling operations—twice now, in fact—but far worse, he had not conceived the fanatical recklessness Marek’s people would exhibit. To any civilized mindset, it was inconceivable that a person, no matter how desperate, would initiate an appalling lasgun-shield interaction on purpose. The rules of the Great Convention were so ingrained in every person in the Imperium.…
Who was this drug lord, and how was he funded? Leto would not underestimate Chaen Marek again, and he vowed to strike back against the man’s illegal operations with the complete military of House Atreides. Swiftly, his forces would overwhelm any defenses the barra fern growers could mount.
As soon as he was back in the castle, he summoned Thufir Hawat, Gurney Halleck, Duncan Idaho, and several other advisers for an immediate war council. The Atreides troops would move out as soon as the fighters were armed, the equipment gathered, the ships fueled, the plans operational.
Before the meeting, Leto stalked back to his private office and increased the glowglobe lights because the afternoon skies had become overcast and gray. The decorative fountain in the corner trickled a diamond-like stream of water with a pleasant soothing noise, but very little could soothe him now. Four men were dead! Now he took some time alone to think. His throat went dry. If he had allowed Paul to go along with the pilots.…
Unexpectedly, he found a message cylinder resting in the center of his desk, delivered by a recent courier. Lady Jessica had placed it there for him to read. He saw that the seal had not been broken, knew Jessica would never breach his trust by reading a private message without his permission.
He turned the cylinder in his hands, noted the leaping stag and recognized the symbol of House Verdun. He sat back, his interest piqued, realizing that this must finally be a response from Duke Fausto Verdun about his daughter’s betrothal to Paul.
Sensing someone, he saw Jessica standing at the doorway in a blue gown, her long, bronze hair bound up in pins and carved seashell combs. He realized this was the same dress she had worn when recording the hologram image he’d taken with him to Otorio. That seemed so long ago, but it was only two months. Her green eyes were bright, her expression full of anticipation.
Leto held up the message cylinder. “You know what this is, of course.”
“I suspect it pertains to me, as well as you, and our son, but I didn’t open it.”
Leto softened his tone. “I have often shared the Duke’s business with my Lady.” His thumbprint unlocked the seal, and he opened it to remove a single sheet of instroy paper marked with the leaping stag. Leto prepared to read aloud to Jessica, but halted as he skimmed the words. His fingers clenched the paper, which wrinkled and then instantly smoothed itself when he shifted his grip. “That … pompous … weasel!”
Jessica was instantly at his shoulder. She read as he continued to absorb the words:
“Duke Atreides, I received your message with surprise. So, my lovely daughter has caught the attention of your son as a possible marriage prospect. She has caught the eyes of many a desirable young man, all of whom are, unfortunately, beneath her station.
“House Verdun is a prominent member of the Landsraad, a powerful House Major with an influential CHOAM Directorship. Since I am a Duke, like yourself, I must make my political decisions with great forethought. The Verdun name is clearly on the rise as our wealth expands. We anticipate that the Padishah Emperor will present us with expanded holdings, now that so many Landsraad seats are empty. I will meet personally with Shaddam IV in the very near future.”
Leto frowned. The man did go on at great length.
“House Atreides, however, oversees only one world, and while I am assured that Caladan is a pleasant place, it is no adequate home for my daughter. In recent memory, House Atreides had greater wealth and clout, but after you voluntarily surrendered the assets of House Kolona, you diminished the weight and worth of your name. To me, this does not demonstrate wise leadership, and I do not share such a vision for my own House.”
The words took on a sickening weight as Verdun continued.
“I applaud your ambition in trying to join our Houses, but I cannot accept the idea of my daughter’s betrothal to your bastard son, who is not even a true heir. We believe that dear Junu will find a more acceptable suitor in the near future. Your interest is noted and appreciated—Fausto Verdun, Duke of Dross.”
He had appended one last barb beneath his signature. “Lord Atikk is my friend, and I know what your Caladan drug did to his son.”
Leto let the instroy paper fall, feeling a different kind of rage and dismay from what he had just experienced after the loss of his four fighter craft. Duke Verdun’s message was another kind of sneak attack, one that insulted his honor and his son. Leto pounded a fist on the desk. “He says Paul isn’t worthy!”
Jessica snatched up the sheet, also taking offense. “But in the Landsraad, you hold the very same rank as Duke Verdun.” She reread the note, then reassessed. “This is not a setback. We will make a different choice, one that is a far better match for Paul.”
He said, “It is clear that Junu Verdun was by no means acceptable. Her family is not worthy of sharing the Atreides name.” He knew it wasn’t the girl’s fault. He had no idea of the young woman’s character, in fact, but Duke Verdun had responded in such an insulting way, it defied all expectations of honorable behavior. “He insults my son!” He took the instroy paper from her and crumpled it, but maddeningly it unfurled itself. Instead, he plunged it into the fountain basin. “And therefore he insults me as well, and all of House Atreides.” He lowered his voice. “He also clearly blames me for the ailar drug, but I am taking care of that.”
Jessica kept her voice calm, and he briefly wondered if she was trying to manipulate him using Bene Gesserit techniques. Right now, he didn’t want to be calm, but he appreciated what she was doing. Just by being there, facing this insult together, he felt closer to her.
She said, “His behavior should have been expected. Fausto Verdun has demonstrated his ambitions, striving to climb much higher than his current station. We knew this from the recent Landsraad reports and announcements from Kaitain. How did he get such an impressive CHOAM Directorship in the first place? Now he has leaped into the gap after Otorio, jockeying to be granted some of the leaderless holdings, the most valuable ones.”
“While I did not,” Leto said, feeling the bitterness rise. “Does that make me someone with low ambitions? Is that how I am perceived in the Landsraad? Because I won’t rummage in the pockets of a corpse? Because I wasn’t aggressive enough to grab the scraps after Otorio?”