Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [280]
Across the rear of the cavernous theatre, on both the main and upper levels, sat representatives of Houses Minor and various factions among CHOAM, the Spacing Guild, the Mentats, the Suk doctors, and other power bases scattered across the million worlds. House Harkonnen had their own segregated section in an upper balcony; the Baron, attending without his nephew Rabban, refused even to glance in the direction of the Atreides seats.
“The colors, the sounds, the perfumes—it’s making me dizzy,” Kailea said, drawing a deep breath and leaning closer to Leto. “I’ve never seen anything like this—on Ix, or on Caladan.”
Leto said, “No one in the Imperium has seen anything like this in almost a hundred and forty years.”
In the first row, directly in front of the Atreides, sat a contingent of Bene Gesserit women in identical black robes, including withered Mother Superior Harishka. On the other side of the aisle from the quiet and manipulative women stood fully armed Sardaukar in ceremonial uniforms.
The Bene Gesserit delegation greeted fresh-faced Reverend Mother Anirul, the Empress-to-be, as she passed the group, accompanied by a large honor guard and garishly dressed ladies-in-waiting. Rhombur searched for the stunning blonde woman who’d given him the mysterious message cube, and found her sitting with Hasimir Fenring instead of with the other Sisters.
An air of expectation filled the high-ceilinged, tiered facility. Finally, a hush fell over the Grand Theatre, and everyone stood respectfully, holding their hats and caps.
Crown Prince Shaddam, attired in a formal Sardaukar commander’s uniform with silver epaulets and the Golden Lion crest of House Corrino, marched down the aisle on a carpet of velvet and damask. His red hair was pomaded with glitter. Members of his royal Court followed him, all of them wearing scarlet and gold.
Bringing up the rear was the green-robed High Priest of Dur, who had by tradition crowned every Emperor since the fall of the thinking machines. Despite the varying fortunes of his ancient religion, the High Priest proudly sprinkled the iron-red holy dust of Dur right and left onto the audience.
Seeing Shaddam’s stately pace and how smartly uniformed he was, Leto recalled when the Crown Prince had marched up another aisle only days earlier to testify on his behalf. In a way, it seemed to him that his royal cousin had looked even more regal then, swathed in the fine silks and jewels of an Emperor. Now he looked more like a soldier—the commander in chief of all Imperial forces.
“An obvious political move,” Hawat said, leaning over to mutter in his ear. “Do you notice? Shaddam is letting the Sardaukar know that their new Emperor considers himself a member of their organization, that they are important to his reign.”
Leto nodded, understanding this practice well. Like his father before him, the young Duke fraternized with his men, dining with them and joining them in everyday functions to show that he would never ask his troops to do what he wouldn’t do himself.
“Looks to me like more show than substance,” Rhombur said.
“In ruling a vast empire, there’s a place for show,” Kailea said. With a pang, Leto recalled the Old Duke’s penchant for bullfights and other spectacles.
Shaddam reveled in the grandeur, bathed himself in glory. He bowed as he strutted past his future wife and the Bene Gesserit contingent. His coronation would come first. At the designated place, Shaddam came to a stop and turned to face the High Priest of Dur, who now held the glittering Imperial crown on a gilded pillow.
Behind the Crown Prince, a wide curtain opened to reveal the royal dais, which had been moved here. The massive Imperial throne, empty now, had been carved from a single piece of blue-green quartz—the largest such gem ever found, dating back to the days of Emperor Hassik III. Hidden projectors shot fine-tuned lasers into the depths of the block of crystal, refracting a nova of rainbows.