Dune_ House Atreides - Brian Herbert [293]
“So, are you satisfied to be a Duke, or would you rather be a simple fisherman, after all?” Prince Rhombur’s loud voice sounded bright, blustering with good cheer.
Leto turned, feeling the sun-warmed dock boards beneath the seat of his trousers. Rhombur and Thufir Hawat trudged across the crunching shingle toward him. Leto knew the Master of Assassins would chide him for sitting with his back vulnerable to the open beach, where the white noise from the ocean might mask any stealthy approach.
“Perhaps I can be both,” Leto said, standing and brushing himself off. “The better to understand my people.”
“ ‘Understanding your people paves the road to understanding leadership,’ ” Hawat intoned—an old Atreides maxim. “I hope you were meditating upon statecraft, as we have much work to do, now that all is returning to normal.”
Leto sighed. “Normal? I think not. Someone tried to start a war with the Tleilaxu and blame my family in the process. The Emperor fears what he thinks I know. House Vernius is still renegade, and Rhombur and Kailea remain exiled here, though at least they were pardoned and the blood price on their heads has been lifted. Moreover, my name was never actually cleared—a lot of people still think I attacked those ships.”
He scooped up a beach pebble that lay on the dock and tossed it far out on the water where he couldn’t discern the splash it made. “If this is a victory for House Atreides, Thufir, it’s bittersweet, at best.”
“Perhaps,” Rhombur said, standing next to the beached coracle. “But better than a defeat.”
The old Mentat nodded, his leathery skin reflecting the harsh sun. “You handled yourself with an air of true honor and nobility, my Duke, and House Atreides has gained widespread respect. That is a victory you must never discount.”
Leto looked up at the tall towers of Castle Caladan looming high on the cliff. His Castle, his home.
He thought of the ancient traditions of his Great House, and how he would build on them. In his royal station he was an axis upon which millions of lives revolved. The life of a simple fisherman might have been easier, after all, and more peaceful—but not for him. He would always be Duke Leto Atreides. He had his name, his title, his friends. And life was good.
“Come, young masters,” Thufir Hawat said. “It’s time for another lesson.”
In high spirits, Leto and Rhombur followed the Master of Assassins back up to the Castle.
AFTERWORD
For more than a decade there had been rumors that I would write another novel set in my father’s Dune universe, a sequel to the sixth book in the series, CHAPTERHOUSE: DUNE. I had published a number of acclaimed science fiction novels, but wasn’t sure I wanted to tackle something so immense, so daunting. After all, DUNE is a magnum opus that stands as one of the most complex, multilayered novels ever written. A modern-day version of the myth of the dragon’s treasure, DUNE is a tale of great sandworms guarding a precious treasure of melange, the geriatric spice. The story is a magnificent pearl with layers of luster running deep beneath its surface, all the way to its core.
At the time of my father’s untimely death in 1986, he was beginning to think about a novel that carried the working title DUNE 7, a project he had sold to Berkley Books, but on which there were no known notes or outlines. Dad and I had spoken in general terms about collaborating on a Dune novel one day in the future, but we’d set no date, had established no specific details or direction. It would be sometime after he completed DUNE 7 and other projects.
In ensuing years I thought about my late father’s uncompleted series, especially after I concluded a five-year project writing DREAMER OF DUNE, a biography of this complex, enigmatic man—a biography which required that I analyze the origins and themes of the Dune series. After long consideration it seemed to me that it would be fascinating to write a book based upon the events he had described so tantalizingly in the Appendix to DUNE,