Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [134]
—DUKE PAULUS ATREIDES
Far across the galaxy, within the cargo hold of another Heighliner, a single unmarked Ixian space cruiser rested alone and indistinguishable among the crowded ships. The runaway cruiser had hopped from one freight line to another, changing designations each time.
Inside the unmarked ship, Dominic and Shando Vernius sat as passengers amidst the tattered remnants of their armed forces. Many of the family guard had been killed, and many had not made it to the escape ship in time; others had decided to take their chances in the aftermath of the revolution. No one aboard had said anything for a long time.
Lady Shando’s personal manservant Omer squirmed, twitching his narrow shoulders; his straight black hair had been cut exactly at the collar line, but now both collar and hair looked a bit ragged. Omer was the only one of her household staff who had chosen to accompany the family into exile. A timid man, he had abhorred the prospect of attempting to make a new life among the Tleilaxu.
Ambassador Pilru’s curt reports had made it eminently clear that they could expect no assistance from Landsraad military forces or the Emperor. By declaring themselves renegade they had severed all ties—and all obligations—to Imperial Law.
The seats, storage bins, and lockers aboard the renegade ship were filled with gems and valuable items, anything that could be sold for ready cash. Their flight might last for a long, long time.
Dominic sat next to his wife, holding her small and delicate hand. His hairless brow was creased with concern. “Elrood will send out teams to track us down,” he said. “We’ll be hunted like animals.”
“Oh, why won’t he just leave us alone now?” Omer muttered, shaking his straight black hair. “We’ve already lost everything.”
“Not enough for Roody,” Shando said, turning to her manservant. She sat straight-backed and regal. “He’s never forgiven me for talking him into letting me go. I never lied, but he thinks I tricked him.”
She looked out the narrow port edged with gleaming ser-chrome. The Ixian ship was small, with no overt markings of House Vernius: a simple vehicle used for hauling cargo or steerage passengers. Shando squeezed her husband’s hand and tried not to think of how far their fortunes had fallen.
She remembered the day of her departure from the Imperial Court, bathed and perfumed and decked with fresh flowers from Elrood’s greenhouses. The other concubines had given her gifts of brooches, jewels, radiant scarves that glowed from body heat. She had been young and excited then, her heart swelling with gratitude for the memories and experiences, yet aching to start a new life with a man she desperately loved.
Shando had kept her romance with Dominic secret and left Elrood under what she thought were good terms, terminating her service with his blessing. She and the Emperor had made love one last time, talked fondly of memories they shared. Elrood hadn’t understood her desire to leave Kaitain, but he had plenty of other concubines, after all. Her loss had meant little to him . . . until he learned she’d left him out of love for another man.
Now Shando’s ragged flight from Ix was far different from her departure from Kaitain. She sighed bitterly. “After a reign of almost a century and a half, Roody has learned how to wait for his revenge.”
Long past any shadow of jealousy, Dominic chuckled at the pet name. “Well, now he’s gotten even with us. We’ll have to be patient ourselves and find some way to restore our House’s fortunes. If not for us, then for our children.”
“I trust Paulus Atreides to keep them safe,” Shando said. “He’s a good man.”
“We must trust no one else to keep ourselves safe, however,” Dominic said. “That will be quite enough of a challenge for us.”
Dominic and Shando would soon separate, take new identities, and go into hiding on isolated planets,