Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [260]
“And if I lose, it won’t matter a bit.”
Nodding solemnly, Hawat stood like a monolith. “There are no set rules for conducting a Trial by Forfeiture. It is a freestyle forum without rules of evidence or procedures, a container without contents. Without a disclosure process, we don’t have to reveal to the court what evidence we’ll present—but neither does anyone else. We can’t know the lies our enemies may tell, or what exhibits they may have doctored. We won’t see ahead of time what alleged proof the Tleilaxu possess, how their main witnesses will testify. Many ugly things will be said about House Atreides. Prepare yourself for it.”
Looking up at a noise, Leto saw a guard shut down the humming confinement field to let Rhombur enter. The Ixian Prince wore a white shirt with a Vernius helix on the collar. His face was flushed from a session in the gym, his hair wet from a shower. On his right hand, the fire-jewel ring glinted.
Leto thought of the similarities between his situation and his friend’s, with their Houses in disarray and near annihilation. Rhombur, who had received the temporary protection of the court, came at the same time each day.
“Finish your exercises?” Leto inquired, forcing a hearty tone despite Hawat’s grim pessimism.
“Today I broke the physical-training machine,” Rhombur responded with an impish smile. “The device must have been built by one of those disreputable Houses Minor. No quality control. Certainly not good Ixian stuff.” Leto laughed as he and Rhombur interlocked fingertips in the half handshake of the Imperium.
Rhombur scratched his damp, tousled blond hair. “The hard exercise helps me to think. These days it’s difficult enough to concentrate on anything. Uh, my sister sends her support, by the way, via a fresh Courier from Caladan. I thought you’d like to know. It might cheer you up.”
His expression grew serious, and revealed the layered strain of his long ordeal, the subtle signs of stress and instant maturity that a boy of sixteen shouldn’t have had to endure. Leto knew his friend was concerned about where he and Kailea would end up if House Atreides lost this trial . . . two great noble families destroyed in a frighteningly short time. Perhaps Rhombur and Kailea would go in search of their renegade father. . . .
“Thufir and I were just discussing the merits of our case,” Leto said. “Or as he might put it, the lack of merits.”
“I wouldn’t say that, my Duke,” Hawat protested.
“Well, then, I bring good news,” Rhombur announced. “The Bene Gesserit wish to provide Truthsayers at the trial. Those Reverend Mothers can draw falsehoods out of anyone.”
“Excellent,” Leto said. “They’ll end this whole problem in a moment. Once I speak, they can verify I’m telling the truth. Can it be that simple?”
“Normally a Truthsayer’s testimony would be inadmissible,” Hawat cautioned. “An exception may be granted here, but it’s doubtful. Witches have their own agendas, and legal analysts posit that they can therefore be bribed.”
Leto blinked in surprise. “Bribed? Then they don’t know very many Reverend Mothers.” He began to think more about this, though, considering various possibilities. “But secret agendas? Why would the Bene Gesserit make such an offer? What do they have to gain by my innocence—or my guilt, for that matter?”
“Be cautious, my Duke,” Hawat said.
“It’s worth a try,” Rhombur said. “Even if it isn’t binding, a Truthsayer’s testimony would lend weight to Leto’s version of events. You and all the people around you—including Thufir, me, the frigate crew, and even your servants from Caladan—can all be scrutinized by Truthsayers. And we know the stories will be consistent. They’ll prove your innocence beyond a shadow of a doubt.” He grinned. “We’ll be back on Caladan before you know it.”
Hawat, though, remained unconvinced. “Exactly who contacted you, young Prince?