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We all live in the shadows of our predecessors for a time. But we who determine
the fate of planets eventually reach the point at which we become not the
shadows, but the light itself.
-PRINCE RAPHAEL CORRINO,
Discourses on Leadership
As an official member of the Federated Council of Great and Minor Houses, Duke
Leto Atreides embarked on a Heighliner and traveled to Kaitain for the next
Landsraad meeting. Wearing his formal mantle off-planet for the first time, he
thought he had recovered enough from the loss of his father to make a major
public appearance.
After Leto had made his decision to attend, Thufir Hawat and several other
Atreides protocol advisors had locked themselves with him in Castle meeting
rooms to give him crash courses in diplomacy. The advisors hovered around him
like stern teachers, insisting that he be brought up to speed on all the social,
economic, and political factors a Duke must take into account. Harsh glowglobes
lit the stone-walled room, while a sea breeze drifted in through the open
window, bringing with it the sound of crashing waves and screaming gulls.
Despite the distractions, Leto attended to the lectures.
For his turn, the new Duke had insisted that Rhombur sit beside him during the
training sessions. "One day he will need to know all these things, when his
House is restored," Leto had said. Some advisors had looked skeptical, but they
did not argue.
As he departed from Cala City Spaceport, accompanied only by Thufir Hawat as his
escort and confidant, Leto's counselors had warned him against rash behavior.
Leto had pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. "I understand," he
said, "but my sense of honor drives me to do what I must do."
By ancient tradition it was Leto's right to appear in the Landsraad forum and
put forth his demand. A demand for justice. As the new Duke, he had an agenda,
and enough anger and youthful naivete to believe he just might succeed, no
matter what his advisors might tell him. Sadly, though, he remembered the few
times when his father had petitioned the Landsraad; Paulus had always returned
home red-faced, expressing scorn and impatience at the bumbling bureaucracy.
But Leto would start fresh, with high hopes.
Under the eternally sunny skies of Kaitain, the massive Landsraad Hall of
Oratory stood high and imposing, the tallest peak in a mountain range of
legislative edifices and government offices surrounding an ellipsoidal commons.
The Hall had been erected by contributions from all the Houses, each noble
family trying to outdo the others in grandeur. Representatives from CHOAM had
helped to procure resources from across the Imperium, and only by special order
of a former Emperor -- Hassik Corrino III -- had the exorbitant Landsraad
construction plans been curtailed, so as not to overshadow the Imperial Palace
itself.
Following the nuclear holocaust on Salusa Secundus and the relocation of the
Imperium's seat of government, everyone had been anxious to establish an
optimistic new order. Hassik III had wanted to show that even after the near
obliteration of House Corrino, the Imperium and its business would continue at a
more exalted level than ever before.
Banners of the Great Houses rippled like a rainbow of dragon scales along the
outer walls of the Landsraad Hall. Standing there in the glittering commons
surrounded by towering metal-and-plaz buildings, Leto was hard-pressed to locate
the green-and-black flag of House Atreides, but finally found it. The purple-
and-copper colors of House Vernius had been taken down and publicly burned.
Thufir Hawat stood beside the young Duke. Leto longed for the presence of his
friend Rhombur, but it was not yet safe for the exiled Ixian Prince to leave the
sanctuary of Caladan. Dominic Vernius still had not emerged from hiding, even
following reports of Shando's death; Leto knew the sharp-eyed man would be
mourning in his own way. And plotting revenge . . . .
In any case, Leto would have to do this himself. His father would have expected
no less of him. So, under the bright Kaitain sunshine, he squared his
shoulders, thought of his family history and all that had occurred since the
dark days of Atreus, and fixed his gaze forward. He marched ahead along the
flagstoned streets, not allowing himself to feel small in the face of the
Landsraad's grandeur.
As they entered the Hall of Oratory in the company of other family
representatives, Leto spotted the colors of House Harkonnen, with its pale blue
griffin symbol. Just looking at the banners, he could name a few other
families: Houses Richese, Teranos, Mutelli, Ecaz, Dyvetz, and Canidar. In the
center of all the flags hung the much larger Imperial banner of House Corrino,
in striking scarlet and gold with its central lion symbol.
The fanfare surrounding his entrance, and that of the other arriving
representatives, was deafening and constant. As the men and a few women
entered, a crier announced each person's name and position. Leto saw only a few
true nobles; most arrivals were Ambassadors, political leaders, or paid
sycophants.
Even though he himself carried a royal title, Leto did not feel powerful or
important. After all, what was the Duke of a mid-level House compared with even
the prime minister of one of the wealthy families? Though he controlled the
economy and population of Caladan and the other holdings of Atreides, many Great
Houses held dominion over far more wealth and worlds. He envisioned himself for
a moment as a small fish among sharks, then quashed such thoughts before they
could diminish his confidence. The Old Duke had never allowed him the luxury of
feeling small.
In the enormous Hall he wondered where he might find the empty seats formerly
occupied by House Vernius; he took only small satisfaction in knowing that,
though they now held Ix, the Bene Tleilax would never receive any such honors.
The Landsraad would not allow despised Tleilaxu representatives into this
exclusive club. Normally Leto would have had no patience for such wholesale
prejudice, but in this case he made an exception.
As the Council meeting commenced with interminable formalities, Leto took his
seat in a plush black-and-maroon booth along one side, similar to those provided
for the dignitaries of other Houses. Hawat joined him, and Leto watched the
business unfold, eager to learn, ready to do his part. But he had to wait until
his name was called.
The real family heads could not be bothered to attend every such meeting, and as
a number of trivial matters were heard -- items that dragged on for far longer
than was necessary -- Leto soon understood why. Little business was
accomplished despite all the talking and arguing and niggling over fine points
of protocol or Imperial law.
Newly installed in his title, though, Leto would make this his formal reception.
When the scrolling agenda signaled his turn to speak at long last, the young man
crossed the dizzying expanse of polished floor in the cavernous chamber,
unaccompanied by the warrior Mentat or any other assistant, and climbed to a
central lectern. Trying not to look like a mere teenager, he remembered his
father's powerful presence and recalled the cheers as they stood in the arena,
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