Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [276]
Because of the planet’s vital importance! He snorted in disgust, then set about smashing everything breakable he could get his hands on. He knew Shaddam had banished him in a fit of pique. For a man with Fenring’s capabilities, the new job was an insult, and it removed him from the center of Imperial power. He needed to be here, on Kaitain, at the hurricane’s eye of politics, not lost out in some forgotten corner of space.
But Shaddam’s decree could not be questioned or denied. Fenring had thirty days to report to the notorious arid planet. He wondered if he would ever return.
All persons are contained within a single individual, just as all time is in a moment, and the entire universe is in a grain of sand.
—Fremen Saying
On the day of Shaddam IV’s coronation and wedding, a carnival air prevailed on all the worlds of the Imperium. Jubilant crowds immersed themselves in drinking, dancing, sporting events, and fireworks exhibitions. Old Emperor Elrood had held his throne for so long that few people could remember the last time a new ruler had been crowned.
In Kaitain’s capital city, throngs gathered along the magnificent boulevards, lining up beside the route the royal procession would take. It was a sunny day—as usual—and vendors did a brisk business hawking souvenirs, commemorative items, and refreshments.
Royal Corrino flags fluttered in the breeze; everyone wore their scarlet and gold to mark the occasion. Sardaukar soldiers guarded the convoluted route, wearing ceremonial gold brocade over their dress gray-and-black uniforms. Standing like stone guardians, they held their lasrifles in the present-arms position, unmoved by the blaring fanfare or the roar of the crowd. But they remained ready to react with deadly force at the slightest hint of threat to the Imperial presence.
Boisterous cheers rose from thousands of throats as Crown Prince Shaddam and his betrothed Lady Anirul rolled by in a velvet-cushioned coach pulled by six golden lions from Harmonthep; braided with jewels, the animals’ magnificent manes ruffled in the gentle breeze. Royal footmen and pikemen jogged alongside the carriage, which was barely obscured by the gossamer shimmer of a protective shield.
Looking intensely regal, Anirul waved and smiled; she had shed her black Bene Gesserit robes and wore a waterfall of laces, ruffles, and pearl drops. Her tiara dazzled with prisms and jewels, catching the sunlight from the ever-cloudless sky. Beside her, Shaddam looked magnificent with his reddish hair perfectly pomaded, his military-style uniform decked with braids and shoulder boards and clanking medals.
Since the Crown Prince’s marriage displayed no favoritism to any Great or Minor House, the Landsraad had accepted Anirul as the Imperial consort, though many questioned her mysterious background and “hidden rank” in the Bene Gesserit. After the death of Elrood, though, followed by this grandiose coronation and wedding, the Imperium was awash in a sea of changes. Shaddam hoped to use that to his advantage.
With a paternal smile fixed on his face, he scattered solari coins and packets of gemdust to the crowd, following a tradition of Imperial largesse that was believed to bring blessings upon a new reign. The people loved him; he was surrounded by wealth; with the snap of his fingers he could obliterate entire worlds. This was exactly how he had imagined the role of Emperor would be.
A flourish of trumpets made joyful clarion sounds.
“Won’t you sit with me, Hasimir?” the willowy blonde asked, giving him a coquettish smile during the pre-coronation reception. Fenring couldn’t tell if Margot Rashino-Zea had purposely made her voice sultry, or if it just came naturally to her. He held a plate of food containing exotic hors d’oeuvres. Poison-snoopers fluttered like hummingbirds over the crowded guests. The day’s ceremonies would last for hours upon hours, and the guests could relax and partake of refreshments at their leisure.
Sister Margot Rashino-Zea stood taller than Fenring,