Though Duke Leto Atreides rarely made formal trips to Kaitain, his arrival at the Imperial Palace aroused little interest. The magnificent structure was a flurry of high-level diplomatic and political activity. No one paid attention to yet another Duke.
Accompanied by a small retinue of servants, Leto rode in a diplomatic transport toward the reception wing of the Palace. The air smelled of trumpet flowers and aromatic enhancers that concealed vehicle exhausts. Though burdened by concerns— for Duncan and the Atreides soldiers, for Thufir and his bluff against the Beakkal blockade, and for the frightening silence from Rhombur and Gurney— Leto maintained the calm demeanor of a professional diplomat and leader on an important mission.
Despite the pressures, though, he eagerly looked forward to seeing Jessica. Their baby was due in mere days.
Liveried guards ran alongside the elegant floater-car. The vehicle was at least three centuries old, with red-velva seats. The golden lion hood ornament swiveled to the left and right, opening its jaws, baring its teeth, and even roaring whenever the black-mustachioed driver touched the horn pad.
The Duke was not particularly impressed by the gadgetry. With his speech to the Landsraad, he would soon be throwing fuel on the fire. Shaddam would be furious about the attack on Ix, and Leto feared the damage would be irreparable. But he was willing to sacrifice all that to do the right thing. He had ignored the injustice for too long. The Imperium must never think him soft and indecisive.
Along the route of crystal-paved boulevards, Corrino banners fluttered in a gentle breeze. Immense buildings stretched to a cloudless blue sky, too perfect for Leto’s tastes. He preferred the changing weather of Caladan, even the beauty and unpredictability of storms. Kaitain was too tame, having been transformed into a caricature world taken from a fantasy filmbook.
The floater-car slowed at the Palace reception gate, and Sardaukar guards waved them through. The mechanical lion roared again. Ominous weapons were plainly in view, but Leto had eyes only for the arrival platform. He caught his breath.
Lady Jessica stood waiting for him in a golden parasilk dress that clung to her rounded body, emphasizing her abdomen— but even such elegance could not overshadow the radiance of her beauty as she smiled at him. Four Bene Gesserit Sisters hovered around her.
As Leto stepped onto the oiltile pavement, Jessica hesitated and then hurried toward him, her walk still graceful, despite her ungainly size. Jessica paused, as if concerned that embracing him in public might not be proper. Confident in himself, though, Leto cared nothing for appearances. He closed the gap between them and gave her a long, passionate kiss.
“Let me have a look at you.” He pulled back to admire her. “Ah, you are as lovely as a sunset.” Her oval face had tanned from time spent in the Palace gardens and solarium. She wore no jewelry, and did not require it.
He placed his callused palm against her stomach and held it there, as if trying to feel the baby’s heartbeat. “It appears I arrived with no time to spare. You were barely showing at all when you left me alone on Caladan.”
“You are here to deliver a speech, not a baby, my Duke. Will we be able to spend time together?”
“Of course.” His tone grew more distant as he noticed the scrutiny of the Bene Gesserit, as if they were taking notes on his performance. At least one of them showed signs of disapproval. “After my speech to the Landsraad, I may need to go into hiding.” He gave her a wry smile. “Therefore, your company would be most welcome, my Lady.”
At that moment, Emperor Shaddam emerged from the Imperial residence, walking briskly in a straight line as guards, attendants, and advisors swarmed around him like gnats: Sardaukar officers, gentlemen in tailored suits, ladies with high-coiffed hairdos, servants guiding suspensor-borne suitcases and trunks. From the hangar wing of the reception gate, a spectacular processional barge drifted forward, piloted by a tall man who was almost completely hidden beneath loose, fluttering robes, as if he were a living banner.
The Emperor looked ready for war. He had forsaken his whale-fur cape and chains of office for a crisp gray Sardaukar uniform outlined with silver braids, epaulets, and a Burseg’s black, gold-crested helmet. He was scrubbed and polished, from his skin to the medals on his chest to his shiny black boots.
Spotting the Duke, Shaddam walked over to him, excessively pleased with himself. Jessica bowed formally, but the Emperor paid no attention to her. Like Leto, Shaddam IV had hawklike facial features and an aquiline nose. And like Leto, he harbored important secrets. “I apologize that pressing matters prevent me from receiving you more formally, Cousin. The Sardaukar forces require my presence for a major operation.”
An immense war fleet awaited him on the staging grounds— so many ships laden with soldiers and matériel that three Guild Heighliners had been retained to transport them, along with two more escort Heighliners in a show of bravado and strength from the Guild itself.
“Is it anything I need concern myself with, Sire?” Leto tried to keep the questions and anxiety from his face. Was Shaddam playing games with him?
“I have it all under control.”
Leto tried to cover his relief. “I had hoped you would be present for my speech in the Landsraad Hall tomorrow, Sire.” In fact, he had expected to face down the Emperor there, aided by a groundswell of popular support from the other nobles. A major Sardaukar operation? Where?
“Yes, yes, I’m sure your announcement will be very important. The opening of a new fishery or some such thing on Caladan? Unfortunately, duty calls me away.” His baritone voice was pleasant, but his green eyes gleamed with cold cruelty.
The Duke gave a formal bow and took a step backward to stand at Jessica’s side. “When I deliver my words to the Landsraad, Sire, I will be thinking about you. I wish you success on your mission. You can review my remarks at your leisure when you return.”
“At my leisure? I have an Imperium to manage! I have no leisure, Duke Leto.” Before he could answer, Shaddam noticed the jewel-handled knife sheathed at Leto’s waist. “Ah, is that the blade I gave you, at the end of your Trial by Forfeiture?”
“You told me to carry it with me as a reminder of my service to you, Sire. I have never forgotten.”
“I remember.” Finished with the conversation, Shaddam turned back toward the processional barge that would take him to the waiting war fleet.
Leto sighed. Since the Emperor’s attention was not on him, the new military operation must not involve Ix, Beakkal, or Caladan. Therefore, it was to the Duke’s advantage that Shaddam would not be present when he made his announcement and justification for the Atreides assault on Ix. Rhombur would be firmly seated in the Grand Palais before anyone in the Imperial government could mount a response.
He smiled as Jessica escorted him into the Palace. Perhaps everything will work out, after all.