Sparks crackled from the Tleilaxu vivisection and execution device, like a hungry, waiting beast. Leto knew there would be no appeal.
Before the first witness could be called, though, the immense brass-inlaid doors at the rear of the hall slammed open against the stone walls. A hush fell over the courtroom, and Leto heard the crisp cadence of metal-heeled boots on the marbleite floor.
Looking back to the grand entrance doors, he saw Crown Prince Shaddam, dressed in scarlet-and-gold Imperial fur-satins instead of his customary Sardaukar uniform. Followed by an escort of his elite force, the soon-to-be-crowned Emperor strode forward, commanding the full attention of those in the hall. Four heavily armed men scanned the crowd in all directions, every muscle poised for violence.
The Trial by Forfeiture was already highly unusual for the Landsraad court -- but the appearance of the future Padishah Emperor himself was unprecedented.
Shaddam made his way up the long aisle and passed Leto with hardly a glance. The Sardaukar took positions behind the defense table, increasing Leto's feeling of uneasiness.
Shaddam's face was stony, his upper lip slightly twisted. He gave no sign of his intentions. Did my message offend him? Leto wondered. Does he mean to call my bluff? WILL he crush me here in the hall before all the Landsraad? Who could oppose him if he did?
Reaching the towering bench, Shaddam looked up and announced,
"Before this trial actually begins, I have a statement to make. Will the court recognize me at this time?"
Though Leto didn't trust his distaff cousin, he had to admit that Shaddam looked especially regal and elegant. For the first time, he saw this man as a genuine presence in his own right, not just the shadow of his ancient father Elrood. Shaddam's coronation was set for two days hence, to be followed immediately by his magnificent wedding to Anirul -- events that Leto might never live to see. The powerful Bene Gesserit faction had thrown its support to Shaddam's upcoming reign, and all of the Great and Minor Houses of the Landsraad wanted to stay on his good side.
Does he feel threatened by me?
The head magistrate bowed deeply and made an expansive gesture. "Sire, we are honored by your presence and your interest in this case. Of course the Landsraad tribunal will hear you." Leto knew only the most basic facts about this magistrate, the Baron Lar Olin from the titanium-rich planet of Risp VII. "Please speak."
Shaddam pointed over his shoulder, in Leto's direction. "With the permission of the court, I'd like my cousin Leto Atreides to stand with me. I wish to address the matter of these malicious accusations and, I hope, prevent the court from wasting the valuable time of all its members."
Leto's mind raced, and he looked over at Hawat. What is he doing? "Cousin"? The way he says it, the word sounds like a term of endearment . . . but he and I have never been close. Leto was merely the grandson of one of Elrood's daughters, by the ancient Emperor's second wife, not even Shaddam's mother. The Corrino family tree sprawled among the Houses of the Landsraad; any blood connection should have meant little to Shaddam.
The head magistrate nodded. At the table beside Leto, his lawyers sat in astonishment, not knowing how to respond. Warily, Leto levered himself to his feet. With shaking knees, he marched forward to join the Crown Prince, standing a pace away from his side, on his left. While of similar height and facial appearance, the men were dressed in radically different fashion, representing two social extremes. Leto stood in his rough fisherman clothes, feeling like a dust mote in the middle of a whirlwind.
He made a formal bow before Shaddam closed the gap between them, placing a hand on Leto's shoulder. The fine, loosely fitted satin of the Crown Prince's tunic cascaded over the arm of the young Atreides.
"I speak from the heart of House Corrino, the blood of the Padishah Emperors," Shaddam began, "with the supportive voices of all my ancestors who have ever associated with House Atreides. This man's father, Duke Paulus Atreides, fought bravely for the Imperial cause against the rebels on Ecaz. Through battle and high peril, the Atreides family has never to my knowledge committed any treasonous or dishonorable act -- all the way back to their heroism and sacrifice at the Bridge of Hrethgir during the Butlerian Jihad. Never! Never have they been cowardly murderers. I challenge any of you to disprove this." He narrowed his eyes, and the magistrates looked away uncomfortably.
Shaddam stared from magistrate to magistrate. "Who among you, knowing the histories of your Houses, can make the same claim? Who has displayed the same loyalty, the same unblemished honor? Few of us, if the truth be told, can compare with noble House Atreides." He let the silence hang, disturbed only by a sharp static discharge from the ominous Tleilaxu vivisection machine. "Ah, yes. And that is why we are here today, is it not, gentlemen? Truth and honor."
Leto saw some of the magistrates nod in agreement, because they were expected to. But they looked perplexed. Imperial leaders never voluntarily addressed Landsraad courts. Why was Shaddam involving himself in such a relatively minor matter?
He read my message! Leto thought. And this is his response.
Still, he waited for the trap to appear. He didn't understand what he had gotten himself into, but Shaddam couldn't intend just to march in and rescue him. Of all the Great Houses in the Landsraad, the Corrinos were among the most devious.
"House Atreides has always taken the high road," Shaddam continued, his regal voice growing more powerful. "Always! And young Leto here has been indoctrinated into this family code of ethics, forced into his royal station early because of the senseless death of his great father."
Shaddam removed his arm from Leto's shoulder and took a step forward, closer to the magistrates. "In my opinion, it would be impossible for this man, from this House, to intentionally fire upon Tleilaxu ships, as he has been accused of doing. Such an act would be abhorrent to everything House Atreides believes. Any evidence to the contrary must be false. My Truthsayers have confirmed this after speaking to Leto and his fellow witnesses."
A lie, Leto thought. I spoke to no Truthsayers!
"But Royal Highness," Magistrate Prad Vidal said, with a dark scowl that lowered his black eyebrows, "the guns on his frigate showed evidence of having been fired. Are you suggesting the Tleilaxu ships were damaged by a convenient accident? A mad coincidence?"
Shaddam shrugged. "As far as I am concerned, Duke Leto has explained this satisfactorily. I, myself, have taken a combat pod into orbit for skeet-drone practice. The remainder of the investigation is inconclusive. Perhaps an accident, yes, but not caused by the Atreides. It must have been a mechanical malfunction."
"But on two Tleilaxu ships?" Vidal said, in an incredulous tone.
Leto looked around, speechless, watching the events play themselves out. Shaddam was about to begin his reign. If the Emperor himself threw his weight indisputably in support of Leto, would any of the representatives declare themselves enemies of the crown? The repercussions could be severe and long-lasting.
This is all politics, Landsraad power plays, favors exchanged, Leto thought, struggling to keep his expression calm. None of this has anything to do with the truth. Now that the Crown Prince had made his stance clear, any magistrate who voted to convict Leto would be openly defying the next Emperor. Even the enemies of House Atreides would be loath to risk that.
"Who can say?" Shaddam responded, with a toss of his head that labeled the question irrelevant. "Perhaps debris from the first accidental explosion hit the companion craft, damaging it less severely." No one believed the explanation for a moment, but the Crown Prince had given them a way out, a paper platform on which to stand.
In low tones the magistrates conferred among themselves. Some of them agreed that Shaddam's line of reasoning was plausible -- they wanted to find some way to agree with the new Emperor -- but Vidal was not one of them. Sweat ran down his brow.
Looking over his shoulder, Leto saw the Tleilaxu spokesman shaking his head in silent disapproval. In the tall chair that had been rigged for him at the prosecution table, he lo
oked like a displeased child.
The Crown Prince continued. "I am here, as is my right and duty as your Supreme Commander, to personally vouch for my eminent cousin, Duke Leto Atreides. I urgently request an end to this trial and the restoration of his title and properties. If you grant this . . . request, I promise to send a contingent of Imperial diplomats to the Tleilaxu to convince them to drop the matter and not to retaliate against the Atreides in any way."
Shaddam fixed a long glance at the Tleilaxu, and Leto had the distinct impression that the Emperor also had the gnomish men over a barrel. Somehow. Seeing that Shaddam stood by House Atreides, their hauteur crumbled.
"And if the complainants won't agree?" Vidal inquired.
Shaddam smiled. "Oh, they'll agree. I am even willing to open the Imperial coffers to pay generous, ah, disaster relief for what was, undoubtedly, an unfortunate accident. It is my duty as your new ruler to maintain peace and stability throughout the Imperium. I cannot allow such a feud to destroy what my dear father built during his long reign."
Leto caught Shaddam's gaze, and detected a glimmer of fear beneath the statesmanship and bravado. Without words Shaddam told Leto to keep his mouth shut, making Leto even more curious about what alarms his mysterious bluff had triggered.
So he held his tongue. But could Shaddam afford to let him live afterward, not knowing what proof Leto might have against him?
Following a short conference among themselves, Baron Lar Olin cleared his throat and announced, "It is the finding of this duly sworn Landsraad Council that all evidence against Leto Atreides is circumstantial and unprovable. Given such extreme doubts, there are insufficient grounds to proceed with a trial of such devastating consequences, especially in light of the extraordinary testimony of Crown Prince Shaddam Corrino. We therefore declare Leto Atreides fully exonerated and restore to him his title and property."
Stunned at his sudden good fortune, Leto found himself congratulated by the Emperor-to-be and then mobbed by his friends and supporters. Many of them were delighted to see him win, but despite his youth Leto was not naive; he knew just as many of them were happy simply to see the Tleilaxu lose.
All around him the courtroom erupted in cheers and thunderous ovations, with the exception of a few in attendance who remained conspicuously silent. Leto marked them for further consideration, and knew Thufir Hawat would be doing the same.
"Leto, there is one more thing I must do," Shaddam said, his voice cutting through the din.
Out of the corner of his eye, Leto saw something glint in the light. Shaddam's hand moved, snatching a jewel-handled knife from his sleeve -- translucent blue-green like the Hagal quartz of the Imperial throne. He raised it, moving quickly.
Back at the bench, Thufir Hawat leaped to his feet, but too late. The crowd fell into an instant hush.
Then, with a smile, Shaddam slipped the knife into the empty sheath at Leto's waist. "My congratulatory gift to you, Cousin," he said in the most pleasant of tones. "Carry this blade as a reminder of your service to me."
We do what we must. Friendship and loyalty be damned. We do what we must!
-LADY HELENA ATREIDES,
her personal journals
Hasimir Fenring brooded in his private apartments, in shock. How can Shaddam do this to me?
The message capsule with the formal Imperial seal -- the wax lion of House Corrino -- lay discarded on his bed. He had torn Shaddam's formal decree to shreds, but not before memorizing every word.
A new assignment -- a banishment! -- a promotion?
"Hasimir Fenring, in acknowledgment of your unfailing service to the Imperium and the throne of the Padishah Emperors, you are hereby appointed to a newly created post as official Imperial Observer on Arrakis.
"Because of this planet's vital importance to the Imperial economy, you shall have all necessary resources made available to your station."
Blah, blah, blah.
How could he dare do this? What a useless waste of his talent. What petty revenge to send Fenring off to a sandhole festering with worms and unwashed people. He fumed, wishing he could discuss the matter with the fascinating Margot Rashino-Zea, whom he trusted more than he should. She was, after all, a Bene Gesserit witch . . . .
Because of the planet's vital importance! He snorted in disgust, then set about smashing everything breakable he could get his hands on. He knew Shaddam had banished him in a fit of pique. For a man with Fenring's capabilities, the new job was an insult, and it removed him from the center of Imperial power. He needed to be here, on Kaitain, at the hurricane's eye of politics, not lost out in some forgotten corner of space.
But Shaddam's decree could not be questioned or denied. Fenring had thirty days to report to the notorious arid planet. He wondered if he would ever return.
All persons are contained within a single individual, just as all time is in a moment, and the entire universe is in a grain of sand.
-Fremen Saying
On the day of Shaddam IV's coronation and wedding, a carnival air prevailed on all the worlds of the Imperium. Jubilant crowds immersed themselves in drinking, dancing, sporting events, and fireworks exhibitions. Old Emperor Elrood had held his throne for so long that few people could remember the last time a new ruler had been crowned.
In Kaitain's capital city, throngs gathered along the magnificent boulevards, lining up beside the route the royal procession would take. It was a sunny day -- as usual -- and vendors did a brisk business hawking souvenirs, commemorative items, and refreshments.
Royal Corrino flags fluttered in the breeze; everyone wore their scarlet and gold to mark the occasion. Sardaukar soldiers guarded the convoluted route, wearing ceremonial gold brocade over their dress gray-and-black uniforms. Standing like stone guardians, they held their lasrifles in the present-arms position, unmoved by the blaring fanfare or the roar of the crowd. But they remained ready to react with deadly force at the slightest hint of threat to the Imperial presence.
Boisterous cheers rose from thousands of throats as Crown Prince Shaddam and his betrothed Lady Anirul rolled by in a velvet-cushioned coach pulled by six golden lions from Harmonthep; braided with jewels, the animals' magnificent manes ruffled in the gentle breeze. Royal footmen and pikemen jogged alongside the carriage, which was barely obscured by the gossamer shimmer of a protective shield.
Looking intensely regal, Anirul waved and smiled; she had shed her black Bene Gesserit robes and wore a waterfall of laces, ruffles, and pearl drops. Her tiara dazzled with prisms and jewels, catching the sunlight from the ever-cloudless sky. Beside her, Shaddam looked magnificent with his reddish hair perfectly pomaded, his military-style uniform decked with braids and shoulder boards and clanking medals.
Since the Crown Prince's marriage displayed no favoritism to any Great or Minor House, the Landsraad had accepted Anirul as the Imperial consort, though many questioned her mysterious background and "hidden rank" in the Bene Gesserit. After the death of Elrood, though, followed by this grandiose coronation and wedding, the Imperium was awash in a sea of changes. Shaddam hoped to use that to his advantage.
With a paternal smile fixed on his face, he scattered solari coins and packets of gemdust to the crowd, following a tradition of Imperial largesse that was believed to bring blessings upon a new reign. The people loved him; he was surrounded by wealth; with the snap of his fingers he could obliterate entire worlds. This was exactly how he had imagined the role of Emperor would be.
A flourish of trumpets made joyful clarion sounds.
WON'T YOU SIT with me, Hasimir?" the willowy blonde asked, giving him a coquettish smile during the pre-coronation reception. Fenring couldn't tell if Margot Rashino-Zea had purposely made her voice sultry, or if it just came naturally to her. He held a plate of food containing exotic hors d'oeuvres. Poison-snoopers fluttered like hummingbirds over the crowded guests. The day's ceremonies would last for hours upon hours, and the guests could relax and partake of refreshments at their leisure.
Sister
Margot Rashino-Zea stood taller than Fenring, and leaned intimately close to him when she spoke. Her coral-and-jet dress shimmered around the exquisite perfection of her form and features. She wore a Caladanian pearl necklace and a brooch encrusted with gold and precious stones. Her skin looked like rich, honeyed milk.
Around them in the balcony lobby of the Grand Theatre, elegantly dressed noblemen and ladies chatted and drank grand cru wines from tall-stemmed glasses. The octave-crystal hummed as glasses were touched together in repeated toasts. Within the hour, the assemblage would witness the climactic double event that would be held on center stage: the coronation of Padishah Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV and his wedding to the Lady Anirul Sadow Tonkin of the Bene Gesserit.
Fenring nodded his large head and executed a brief bow to her. "I would be honored to sit next to you, lovely Margot." Balancing his plate, Fenring lowered himself onto the bench beside her. She inspected the hors d'oeuvres he had chosen and, without asking, reached over to pluck one of them for herself.
Dune - House Atreides Page 64
