Duncan bounded down the frigate's ramp to greet them, but kept his guard up, as though expecting the two teachers to hurl themselves upon him in a playful yet deadly practice session.

"Duke Leto is here on formal business," Dinari commented to Bludd in a deep voice which sounded like a kettledrum. "There will be time for swordplay later."

Bludd sniffed. "There is no play play with swords. We will conduct a practice session. A with swords. We will conduct a practice session. A proving proving session." session."

"And if I beat the two of you, how will you ever endure your shame?" Duncan teased.

"We'll manage," Dinari replied. "If "If it happens." it happens."

Leto emerged alone from the landed frigate, wearing a black doublet that sported the red Atreides hawk crest. Paul followed, still trying to understand what was going on.

The air smelled of flowers, wood resins, and sweet sap that leaked from the cracked bark of the enormous trees that towered over the palace. Ferns as tall as his head stood like curled sentries along the flagstone paths.

Leto put his hand on Paul's shoulder. "Come with me, we need to make our entrance."

"What about Mother?" Paul glanced back at Jessica, who showed no emotion whatsoever as she followed them at some distance.

"She will make her own entrance. Pay close attention. There are many subtleties here. In the next few days you will learn important lessons about being a Duke... and some of them may be hard."

There seemed to be as much lush foliage inside the Archduke's palace as out in the courtyards and gardens. Narrow aqueducts spilled silvery water down channels in the walls, filling the corridors and chambers with the peaceful sound of flowing streams. It wasn't quite as soothing as the majestic rush of the ocean on Caladan, but Paul found it comforting nevertheless.

When they entered the main audience room, Archduke Armand Ecaz was seated in a ma.s.sive chair made of burlwood, at a long table polished to an incredible sheen. It was the largest piece of Elaccan bloodwood Paul had ever seen; colors and patterns flowed through the grain. The Archduke was a tall, thin man who did not appear old despite his silver hair. His face was narrow, his chin pointed.

As Leto came forward, the Archduke stood to greet him, and they clasped each other's forearms. "We are optimists, you and I, Armand," Leto said. "We will try this again. If we don't keep trying, then what is the point of life?"

"This is your natural son Paul?" The Archduke extended a hand. It was small and thin, but his grip was firm. Paul shook it.

"Also, allow me to present his mother, the Lady Jessica," Leto said, nodding in her direction. She bowed formally, but remained at the side of the room, marginalized.

"I have an introduction to make as well, Leto. You probably don't remember her." Armand gave a shout toward a doorway, and a willowy young woman entered. She seemed well-mannered, with large brown eyes and dark hair bound in a looping braid. She wore a thin gold chain around her neck, suspended from which was a perfectly clear yet irregularly shaped soostone. "Duke Leto Atreides, this is my daughter Ilesa."

She executed a polite curtsy, though she seemed shy. "I am very pleased to meet you."

Paul's father responded with a deep, formal bow. "I saw her once, long ago. You did not exaggerate her beauty, Armand." Now Duke Leto turned to Paul and his mother. "The arrangements have already been made. Ilesa will be my wife."

Duncan Idaho was not the only Swordmaster in the life of Paul Atreides. He is just the only one who will be long remembered.

-The Life of Muad'Dib, Volume 2, by the PRINCESS IRULAN

After they had been shown to separate quarters in the Ecazi Palace, Paul visited his mother in her room. Jessica was quiet, absorbed in her thoughts; she herself had taught him how to read subtle nuances, and he could see how troubled she was. Obviously, his father had not discussed the betrothal announcement with her beforehand.

Logically, and politically, the arrangement had its advantages. Marriage was a tool of statecraft in the Imperium, a weapon as powerful as any lasgun in the Atreides military a.r.s.enal. But apparently Duke Leto kept secrets and political realities even from his beloved concubine.

"It will be all right, Paul," Jessica said, and she did sound sincere. "I will stay in this room and continue my Bene Gesserit exercises, but you, Paul - no matter what else is happening, seize this as a learning opportunity. When it is time for us all to leave Ecaz, I want you to have a greater breadth of understanding. File away all these details and organize your thoughts using the techniques I have taught you."

The very strangeness of Ecaz proved an irresistible distraction to Paul. He studied sunlit rooms whose walls reflected a trapezoidal architecture, without the perfection of perpendicular intersections. The palace grounds held an amazing topiary garden of lush plant sculptures - men, animals, and monsters - that moved with gentle grace, turning and weaving as the sun crossed the sky. A mesh-enclosed arena filled with large jewel-toned b.u.t.terflies offered quite a spectacle during the twice-daily feeding-frenzy when workers entered the arena carrying dishes of syrupy nectar.

When he went to find his father, Duke Leto was locked in a conference room with Armand Ecaz. Guards and, worse, bureaucratic functionaries cl.u.s.tered at the doorway, and prevented him from entering. At midmorning, though, when servants delivered refreshments for the meeting, Paul finally slipped into the conference room and caught his father's eye. Duke Leto appeared tired, but he smiled when he saw the boy. "Paul, I am sorry we've ignored you. These negotiations are very complex."

Armand Ecaz lounged back in his chair. "Come now, Leto, they aren't as difficult as all that."

"Go find Duncan, Paul. He'll keep you occupied - and safe."

At a signal from Duke Leto, the stuffy Ecazi guard captain took the young man by the sleeve and led him out of the room, apologizing profusely to the Archduke for the interruption. Paul knew he would never have gotten past Thufir Hawat's security back in Castle Caladan.

He located Duncan, Rivvy Dinari, and Whitmore Bludd out on the training field embroiled in a melee. The three were shirtless and armed with blunt-ended pulse swords that could deliver potent, stinging shocks; all three men had angry-looking red welts on their arms, chests, and shoulders. As he watched, Paul couldn't quite tell who was fighting whom: Duncan threw himself upon Bludd, Dinari attacked Duncan, and then Bludd and Duncan ganged up on the fat Swordmaster. Finally, the three lowered their weapons, exhausted, dripping with perspiration and wearing foolish grins.

"He hasn't forgotten much," Dinari admitted to the thin and foppish Bludd. "He must practice occasionally."

Finished and weary, the three switched off their shields and stood leaning on the pulse-swords on the trampled practice ground. Bludd tipped an imaginary hat in Paul's direction. "We gave the young man a magnificent demonstration."

"At least an entertaining one," Rivvy Dinari said. "You were clumsy as an ox today."

Bludd sniffed. "I scored five nasty welts on you. you. Then again, your body does have a great deal more surface area than the average opponent." Then again, your body does have a great deal more surface area than the average opponent."

Duncan toweled himself off with a fluffy rectangle woven from Elaccan eiderdown. Paul had read in filmbooks how the substance was spun from the burst seedpods of a tall, purple-leafed tree.

Paul stepped up to him. "My mother told me to learn what I can about Ecaz, and my father told me that you would keep me occupied."

"Certainly, young Master, but no sword training right now. After my workout with these two, even you might be able to beat me."

"I have already bested you three times."

"Twice. I refused to concede one of them."

"Your refusal doesn't change the facts." Dinari and Bludd seemed to find the conversation amusing. Duncan led him inside for a round of tame filmbook studies.

Which is more honorable - to follow a monster to whom you have sworn loyalty, or to break your oath and leave his service?

-JOOL-NORET, the first Swordmaster

During the trip home to Grumman after the Imperial wedding, Viscount Moritani spent much of the time with his sickly son and a medical entourage in the main stateroom of his family frigate.

Reporting to his master, Resser paused at the open doorway of the stateroom. Inside, the Viscount sat as limp as a discarded garment in a gilded armchair, from which he stared at a paunchy Suk doctor and a male nurse as they tended Wolfram. The pungent smell of semuta and the eerie, trancelike music that accompanied its use had calmed the boy. Even so, he whimpered in constant pain.

The heavyset Dr. Vando Terbali bore a diamond tattoo on his forehead, and his long golden hair was bound in a Suk school ring. "Though this disease is not incurable, my Lord Viscount, treatment is long overdue. Wolfram's deteriorating condition is not the fault of the Suk brotherhood."

"If I blamed you, Doctor, you would already be dead," Moritani said wearily.

The male nurse stiffened in alarm, and the Suk doctor's gaze sharpened. "Threatening me will not improve the quality of my service."

The Viscount frowned. "And how can your treatment of my son be any worse? He is dying. Your ministrations have not prolonged his life nor significantly eased his pain."

"You need esoit-poay, my Lord, and the Ecazis refuse to give it to you. Ergo, we cannot help your son."

The Viscount's shoulders bunched. "Duke Prad Vidal was somewhat sympathetic, for a price, but even he could not make the Archduke change his mind. Vidal's personal entreaty on Wolfram's behalf was rejected out of hand, because of the Archduke's enmity toward me." He rose from his chair, a man-shaped pressure vessel filled with violence, and suddenly noticed that Resser was standing just outside the door. The Viscount's expression changed, and he spoke abruptly to Dr. Terbali. "Please, if you cannot treat his symptoms then just... ease his pain as much as you can."

Moritani joined the redheaded Swordmaster in the frigate's corridor and sealed the stateroom door behind him. Resser watched the muscles work in the n.o.bleman's jaw as he clenched his teeth. "Ah, Resser, I cannot decide whom to despise more - Archduke Ecaz or the Corrino Emperor. Maybe I don't have to make the choice. I have enough hatred for both."

Resser was surprised. Knowing the enemies of House Moritani was a vital part of his job. "Why do you hate the Emperor, my Lord?"

"Come with me into my study. I will share with you the ancient doc.u.ments I obtained from the Bene Gesserit. You'll see the real reason we came to Kaitain."

"I thought the real reason was to make contact with the Baron Harkonnen."

"There are several real reasons - none of which have anything to do with Shaddam and his d.a.m.ned wedding."

Resser stood at attention in the private room, looking at the man he had sworn to serve. Once, back in the smoldering ruins of Ginaz, Duncan Idaho had offered him a position with House Atreides. Although most of the Grumman students had been expelled by the Swordmaster instructors for refusing to denounce the Viscount's dishonorable acts, Resser had insisted on staying to finish his training. He had believed that the only way to restore the respect of House Moritani would be to shepherd it back onto an honorable path. In the years since Resser's return to Grumman, he had become Viscount Moritani's most trusted man and had done his best to keep the volatile leader in check.

Smiling without humor, Viscount Moritani activated a palmlock and unsealed an armored drawer built into the frigate's bulkhead. He withdrew a long, curling sheet of instroy paper on which were printed countless names and dates in minuscule letters. "This is a very small segment of the Bene Gesserit breeding records. A chart of bloodlines."

Resser squinted to read the small script, but didn't know what he was supposed to make of all the names. Something about House Tantor Tantor and the and the Salusa Incident. Salusa Incident. "And how did you obtain private breeding records, sir?" "And how did you obtain private breeding records, sir?"

Moritani raised a bushy eyebrow and regarded him coldly. Resser knew not to ask further about that.

"My father once told me a rumor," the Viscount continued, "a tall tale that his father had told him, and so on. It always had a ring of truth to me, and I spent years digging." He tapped the long sheet of paper. "This proves what I long suspected - generation after generation, dating back thousands of years."

"What does it prove, my Lord?" does it prove, my Lord?"

"This family was not always House Moritani. Once, we were named Tantor. After Salusa, though, every member of House Tantor was hunted down and killed. Every member the hunters could find, that is."

A shudder ran down Resser's spine. Now it began to make sense. "The Salusa Incident? Not the atomic attack that nearly wiped out House Corrino and devastated all of Salusa Secundus?"

"One and the same. We We are the renegade family whose name was erased from the historical record." The n.o.bleman narrowed his eyes. "Thanks to the Bene Gesserit, I now have proof. I know what the Corrinos did to many of my ancestors... and what Archduke Ecaz is doing to my only son." are the renegade family whose name was erased from the historical record." The n.o.bleman narrowed his eyes. "Thanks to the Bene Gesserit, I now have proof. I know what the Corrinos did to many of my ancestors... and what Archduke Ecaz is doing to my only son."

"And no one else is aware of this genealogy? Surely everyone has forgotten about the blood hunt."

"I have never forgotten. You are now one of only five persons, including myself, who even suspects such a connection. Five living living persons, that is. I had to take certain necessary precautions to ensure the silence of an informant, and of the opportunist in whom he confided." persons, that is. I had to take certain necessary precautions to ensure the silence of an informant, and of the opportunist in whom he confided."

The Viscount replaced the instroy doc.u.ment in the armored bulkhead drawer. "If not for the systematic extermination of my ancestors, poor Wolfram would not be the last of our bloodline."

The implications rolled through Resser's mind. From what he knew, the execution edict against the nameless family that had unleashed the atomics on Salusa Secundus had never technically been lifted. "But shouldn't you just destroy that doc.u.ment, my Lord? It is dangerous to keep in your possession."

"On the contrary, I wish to keep it as a constant reminder of the destruction my n.o.ble House is capable of ... no matter which name we bear." His mouth became a grim line. "One day we shall exact our final revenge. On House Corrino, and on House Ecaz."

Resser felt a chill in the reprocessed air of the sealed chamber, but his oath of duty and honor required him to serve without questioning his master. "I live only to serve you and your n.o.ble House, Lord Moritani."

Empires may rise and fall, and stars may burn for millennia, but nothing is quite so enduring as hatred.

-The Ecaz Family Chronicle

While the Archduke's business administrators presented options for the alliance between House Atreides and House Ecaz, Duke Leto was distracted by the ache in his heart. He had a difficult time concentrating on the nuances of the negotiations, though he knew that any mistake he made could have repercussions on his House for years to come. He could have used a Mentat to keep track of the details, but Thufir Hawat was serving a greater need by protecting Caladan.

Both Ecaz and Atreides desired this arrangement, but Leto's life was complicated by a concubine and a son he had named as his true heir. An alliance between houses, a marriage, and another son by Ilesa would change the situation considerably.

Fortunately, most of the negotiations were similar to those from sixteen years ago, when Leto had been betrothed to Armand Ecaz's elder daughter. The previous agreements had been brought out of the archives to use as a starting point, but much had changed in the years since the Grumman sneak attack had killed Sanya. The last time he had tried to marry into the Ecazi sphere, Leto had had another son, Victor, by another concubine, Kailea Vernius. Both were now dead, as was Sanya.

"You look troubled, my friend," Armand said. "Did you not sleep well last night? Are your quarters not comfortable?"

Leto smiled. "Your hospitality is exemplary, Armand." It was the discussion far into the night that kept me awake, and Jessica's deep hurt long afterward. was the discussion far into the night that kept me awake, and Jessica's deep hurt long afterward.

Sitting on the edge of the bed in her quarters, a private room down the hall from his own, Leto had looked at her beautiful oval face, remembering when the Bene Gesserit first brought her to him as a young woman. His growing love for Jessica had been the wedge that drove Kailea from him. Out of jealousy, Kailea had tried to kill Leto but had instead caused the death of their innocent son, and brutally crippled Prince Rhombur Vernius. Now, Leto swore to himself that he wouldn't allow Ilesa to become a similar wedge between himself and Jessica.

"It is business and politics," he had said, wishing he didn't sound so defensive. He could have spent hours listing the advantages of such an alliance, but no such explanations would ever touch Jessica's heart. He a.s.sured her that he didn't love Ilesa - didn't even know her.

Jessica simply sat there with a cold expression. "I understand completely, my Duke, and I am confident you will make the appropriate decision. I am just your concubine, with no say in the matter."

"Dammit, Jessica, you can speak openly with me!"

"Yes, my Lord." She said nothing else.

He let the silence draw out, but he was no match for a Bene Gesserit. "I am sorry. Truly, I am." Though her stony mask was impenetrable, she looked so lovely to him.

"I expect nothing else from you, Leto. Your father raised you never to marry for love, only for political advantage. After all, the lack of love in his marriage to Lady Helena is reflected in your own lack of love toward your exiled mother. I have seen the Old Duke's portrait. I know what he said and what he taught you. How could you not believe as he did?"

"You must hate him."

"Does one hate the tide for washing away the sand? Does one hate a storm for bringing lightning?"

Leto wondered if Jessica wished she could have seen the Old Duke when he was alive, just to give him a piece of her mind.

"I will take care of you and Paul," Leto insisted. "You will always be part of Castle Caladan. You will always be with me."

"I trust my Duke's promises." Jessica turned away quickly.

Bidding her good night, Leto had taken his leave, but he had remained awake for a long time afterward....

The servants brought trays of "light refreshments": a dripping comb of silver honey, roasted tree-crabs in b.u.t.ter on skewers, z-nuts that were startlingly sour. Leto ate while listening to breakdowns of the prime exports of Ecaz, the most profitable forest products. Armand spoke of spending huge amounts of time and money on pharmaceutical research, testing, and processing. Suk medical chemists and biopharmacists in Elaccan jungle camps constantly discovered new leaves, lichens, berries, roots, fungi.

Most important, the Archduke laid out his absolute trade embargo against Viscount Hundro Moritani of Grumman. He pa.s.sed Leto a proclamation that stated: "There shall be no export of any useful item to House Moritani."

Armand pointed to the official doc.u.ment. "If you are to marry Ilesa, you must agree to this condition, Leto. I cannot bend this rule. Not so much as a leaf from a tree or a berry from a bush. That monster shall not have a gram of comfort from this world."

At one time, Leto had tried to negotiate an end to the simmering feud between Ecaz and Moritani, and the Emperor had even stationed Sardaukar watchdogs on Grumman for two years. But as soon as the Imperial soldiers pulled out, Viscount Moritani struck again, publicly executing both Armand's brother and his daughter Sany, opening the floodgates of a full-scale war.

"Will there never be an end to it?" Leto asked.