Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [258]
“I’d think even a sixteen-year-old could be more subtle than that. Why would he demand a Trial by Forfeiture, then?” Shaddam hated it when he couldn’t understand people and their actions. “A ridiculous risk.”
Fenring let a long pause hang in the air before he dropped his idea like a bombshell. “Because Leto knew all along he would send you that message?” He gestured toward the shrapnel of the message cube. He had to point out the obvious, since Shaddam often let his rage get the best of his reasoning faculties. He continued quickly.
“Perhaps you are thinking backward, Sire. It may be that Leto purposely struck out at the Tleilaxu, knowing he could use the incident as a pretext to demand a Trial by Forfeiture—a public forum in the Landsraad court during which he could expose what he knew about us? All the Imperium will be listening.”
“But why, why?” Shaddam studied the well-manicured nails on his fingers, flushed with confusion. “What does he have against me? I am his cousin!”
Fenring sighed. “Leto Atreides is in thick with the ousted Prince of Ix. If he learned about our hand in the overthrow there and the Tleilaxu synthetic-spice work, wouldn’t that be motive enough? He inherited a deep, misplaced sense of honor from his father. Consider this, then: Leto took it upon himself to punish the Bene Tleilax. But if we let him stand trial now before the Landsraad, he plans to tell of our involvement and take us down with him. It’s as simple as that, hm-m-m-m? He committed the crime, all the while knowing we would have to protect him . . . to protect ourselves. Either way, he’ll have punished us. At least he left a way out.”
“Ah, yes. But that’s—”
“Blackmail, Sire?”
Shaddam drew an icy breath. “Damn him!” Now he stood up, looking Imperial at last. “Damn him! If you’re right, Hasimir, we have no choice but to help him.”
The written Law of the Imperium cannot be changed, no matter which Great House holds dominion or which Emperor sits on the Golden Lion Throne. The documents of the Imperial Constitution have been established for thousands of years. This is not to say that each regime is legally identical; the variations stem from subtleties of interpretation and from microscopic loopholes that become large enough to drive a Heighliner through.
—Law of the Imperium: Commentaries and Rebuttals
Leto lay supine on the sling bed in his cell, feeling the warm throb of a massage mechanism beneath him as it worked the stress-tightened muscles of his neck and back. He still didn’t know what he was going to do.
So far he had received no response from the Crown Prince, and Leto was now convinced that his wild bluff would not work. Relying on the secret message had been a long shot anyway, and Leto himself had no idea what it meant. Instead, for hour after hour, he and the Mentat had continued to discuss the merits of their case and the necessity of relying on their own skills.
Personal articles and comforts surrounded him for his use during the long hours of anticipation, contemplation, and boredom: filmbooks, fine clothing, writing instruments, even Couriers waiting outside his cell to carry personal message cubes to any recipients he chose. Everyone knew how much was at stake in this trial, and not everyone on Kaitain wanted Leto to win.
Technically, because of the legal procedures in which he was embroiled, he no longer owned any personal items; still, he appreciated the use of them. The filmbooks and clothing provided a sense of stability, a link with what he thought of as his “former life.” Since the mysterious attack inside the Heighliner, he had been thrown into a state of chaos.
Leto’s whole future, the fate of his House, and his holdings on Caladan hung precariously on the Trial by Forfeiture, all or nothing. If he failed here, his Great House would be even worse off than the renegade family Vernius. House Atreides would no longer exist—at all.
At least then, he thought with forced wryness, I won’t have to worry