Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [138]
Remembering what the vision of Rogo had whispered into his imagination, he began to construct . . . something.
When the Atreides rescue ships returned to Caladan and approached the spaceport fields of Cala City, the Old Duke made only minimal attempts at a grand welcome. The times and circumstances were too somber for the usual protocol ministers, band, and banner carriers.
Duke Atreides stood in the open air, squinting up into the cloud-dappled sunshine as the ships landed. He wore his favorite cape of spotted whale-fur to block the brisk wind, though it did not match his patterned tunic. All the mustered retainers and household troops waited at attention beside the receiving platform, but he didn’t care about his dress, or the impression he might make. Paulus was just glad to have his son home, and safe.
Lady Helena stood beside him, rigid-backed and dressed in a formal gown and cape, her appearance impeccable. As the frigate settled down onto the spaceport landing area, Helena regarded her husband with an “I told you so” expression, then she composed her face into a welcoming smile for all to see. No observer would ever guess at the repeated shouting matches they’d engaged in while the Heighliner was en route, bringing their son home.
“I don’t see how you could offer those two sanctuary,” she said, her voice quiet but icy. Her lips continued to smile. “The Ixians have gone beyond the strictures of the Jihad, and now they’re paying the price for it. It’s dangerous to interfere with the punishments of God.”
“These two Vernius children are innocents and will stay here as guests of House Atreides for as long as necessary. Why must you keep arguing with me? I have made my decision.”
“Your decisions need not be etched in stone. If you listen to me, perhaps this veil will be lifted from your eyes and you can see the peril we all face because of their presence.” Helena stood exactly as close to her husband as any observers would expect. “I’m concerned for us, and for our son.”
The ship on the landing field extended its struts, and locked down. Exasperated, Paulus turned to her. “Helena, I owe Dominic Vernius more than you can know—and I do not shirk my obligations. Even without the blood-debt we owe each other after Ecaz, I’d still offer to protect his children. I do this as much from my own heart as from a sense of duty. Soften your heart, woman. Think of what those two children have been through.”
A gust of wind whipped her auburn hair, but Helena did not flinch. Ironically, she was the first to raise her hand in greeting as the boarding door opened. She spoke out of the side of her mouth. “Paulus, you’re baring your throat to the Imperial executioner, and smiling while you’re doing it! We’ll pay for this folly in ways you can’t imagine. I just want the best for everyone.”
Around them, the house guards studiously ignored the argument. A green-and-black banner snapped in the breeze. The ship’s ramp extended.
“Am I the only one who thinks of our family honor instead of politics?” Paulus growled.
“Hush! Keep your voice down.”
“If I lived my life only by safe decisions and advantageous alliances, I would be no man at all, and certainly not one worthy of being a Duke.”
The soldiers marched out and stood at attention, forming a path for the three who had been rescued from Ix. Leto emerged first, taking a deep breath of the sea-freshened air, blinking in the hazy sunshine of Caladan. He was washed and dressed in clean clothes again, but his manner still conveyed weariness; his skin seemed gray, his dark hair mussed, his brow above the hawklike eyes and nose scarred by memories.
Leto took another huge breath, as if he couldn’t get enough of the salt-iodine scents of the nearby sea, the hint of fish and woodsmoke. Home. He never wanted to spend time away from Caladan again. He looked beyond the ramp to meet his father’s bright gaze—sparkling to see his son