Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [19]
Finally reaching the main exit gate of the Imperial Palace, passing under the Salusan lava arch, Dominic waited while three guards ran him through a security scan.
Unfortunately, Guild protection only went so far.
Dominic had very little respect for the old Emperor. He had tried to hide his contempt for the pathetic ruler of a million worlds, but he’d made a dire mistake by allowing himself to think of him as a mere man, a former lover of his wife’s. Elrood, snubbed, could annihilate an entire planet in a fit of pique. The Emperor was the vindictive sort. All Corrinos were.
I have my contacts, Elrood thought as he watched his adversary depart. I can bribe some of the workers who are building components for those improved Heighliners—though that may be difficult, since suboids are said to be mindless. Failing that, Dominic, I can find other people you’ve pushed aside and taken for granted. Your mistake will be in overlooking them.
In his mind’s eye Elrood envisioned the lovely Shando, and recalled their most intimate moments together, decades ago. Purple merh-silk sheets, the sprawling bed, incense burners, and mirrored glowglobes. As Emperor, he could have any woman he wanted—and he had chosen Shando.
For two years she had been his favorite concubine, even when his wife Habla had been alive. Small-boned and petite, she had a fragile porcelain-doll appearance, which she had cultivated during her years on Kaitain; but Elrood also knew she had a commonsense strength and resiliency deep inside her. They had enjoyed doing multilingual word puzzles together. Shando had whispered “Roody” in his ear when he had invited her to the Imperial bedchamber; and she had cried it loudly during climactic moments of passion.
In memory he heard her voice. Roody . . . Roody . . . Roody . . .
Being a commoner, however, Shando simply wasn’t suitable for him to marry. It had not even been an option. The heads of royal Houses rarely wed their concubines, and an Emperor never did. Dashing young Dominic, with his wiles and flattery, had gotten Shando to talk herself free, to trick Elrood, and then had spirited her away to Ix, where he had married her in secret. The astonishment in the Landsraad came later, and despite the scandal the two had remained married these many years.
And the Landsraad, despite Elrood’s petition to them, had refused to do anything about it. After all, Dominic had married the girl and the Emperor never had any intention of doing so. Everything according to law. Despite his petty jealousies, Elrood couldn’t claim Shando had been adulterous, not by any legal standard.
But Dominic Vernius knew her intimate nickname for him. What else had Shando told her husband? It ate at him like a Poritrin fester.
On the screen of a wrist-strap security monitor, he watched Dominic at the main gate, as pale security beams washed over him—from a scanner that was another sophisticated Ixian machine.
He could send a signal, and the probes would obliterate the other man’s mind, leave him a vegetable. An unexpected power surge . . . a most terrible accident . . . How ironic if Elrood were to use an Ixian scanner to kill the Earl of Ix.
Oh, how he wanted to do it! But not now. The time wasn’t right, and there could be embarrassing questions, maybe even an investigation. Such vengeance required subtlety and planning. In that way, the surprise and ultimate victory would be so much more satisfying.
Elrood switched off the monitor, and the screen darkened.
Standing beside the blocky throne, Chamberlain Aken Hesban didn’t ask why his Emperor was smiling.