DUNE-A False Haderach-(SI into brother of Irulan)

Chapter 12-The Joker on the Board!



Chapter 12

LETO ATREIDES

Leto observed the Fremen's departure from his solar, their absence leaving a palpable void. The room was hushed, each person grappling with the weight of the recent events in these Halls.

No one spoke a word. Gurney was quiet and contemplative, as was Thufir, and Leto’s fingers tapped the table slowly.

Kazab’s intervention had gone beyond anything he had expected. The revelations made by the young man had been damning. They had more or less confirmed his suspicions, yet they had also given him a thousand or so more questions.

Their coming to this planet was a trap, one that was set to go off sooner than he had realized. There truly was a traitor in their midst, and Kazab was somehow aware of this traitor’s identity.

“My lord,” Duncan broke the silence, prompting his attention as Leto turned and looked at his most prized soldier.

“My lord, why did you let this Kazab go? Had you ordered it, me and Gurney could have struck him down right here or even captured him to extract what he knows about the Harkonnen attack,” he asked, and Leto shook his head.

“That was not a possibility. You told me yourself that Kazab is a highly influential figure in the Fremen. If we had struck, we would have ended any chance of peace with the desert dwellers,” he explained.

Then there was the warning from Jessica: it had been subtle and in the sign, but he had managed to see it. She had warned him of making any move against the Kazab, and though he had not thought of doing so, that had dissuaded any such wondering thought.

“And what of his warning, my lord? About the imminent attack by the Harkonnens and the traitor, is it true?” Duncan questioned, and he was reminded that Idaho had not been here when Paul had been attacked.

“From the way he spoke, this Kazab seems rather intimately aware of the Harkonnen’s plans and the affairs of our household. It all could be a bluff to shake up,” Gurney added gruffly as he rubbed his stubble and grunted.

“I do not like it. Coming to this wasteland was a disaster in itself. The Harkonnen treachery and the sheer blindness of the Emperor over all these violations were already unsettling, and now this Kazab barges into our palace as if he owned this place. Things seem to be slipping away from us. We must take back control,” he added, and he nodded.

Leto felt himself at the center of a whirlpool, the world moving and twisting around him.

“Did you notice his hair and his face?” Paul added from the side, and he was quiet as Leto turned towards his son.

“His hair, they were unlike any other Fremen,” and he had noticed it as well. Most Fremen had black hair, thick and mottled, yet his was a blonde, silvery white with a shimmer so characteristic of a lineage he was quite well acquainted with.

“It could be an artificial color,” he added, despite not believing so himself. And Paul shook his head.

“No, Fremen do not have such hair, and it was not an artificial color. The roots were silver as well.  The only family that has such hair is...”

“The Royal family,” he finished, and there was silence. Of course, he had noticed that yet the mere thought of such a thing was improbable, the connection impossible, yet for some reason, he could not get the conjecture out of his mind.

He felt as if the truth was staring him in the face, yet he could not grasp it.

‘What was it? What was he missing? Just who was this Kazab?’

“My lord,” Thufir said as he frowned because Jessica had not returned yet.

“Could it be possible that this Kazab is working with the Harkonnens?” and Leto thought about it.

“Though we cannot be sure, I do not think that possible. He has bad blood with the Harkonnens and has killed thousands of them. I do not think his ideology would align with them much. And if he was working with them, he would not have come to meet me or passed Idaho that message,” he added, and Idaho cut in.

“The Fremen hate the Harkonnen with passion. Kazab is a highly prominent leader in the Fremen, so it is highly unlikely that he would align himself with the Harkonnens. We must assume that he works independently,” Idaho added.

“Paul,” he called out, and his son stepped forward. He had been somewhat dazed since the meeting.

“Go and see why your mother has not returned yet,” perhaps she could point out what he was missing.

“We must take some action,” Gurney added, and he agreed as Paul left the room.

“Indeed, despite his words, I believe this Kazab has given us a lot of information about the Harkonnen’s planned offensive,” Idaho began.

“It approaches us sooner than we initially expected,” Thufir added, given that Inzal had mentioned how they did not have much time to make a decision.

“It also is bigger than we previously anticipated,” Gurney added, and that was the bigger problem, for until now, they had been expecting a smaller and more targeted attack, but from Inzal’s words, it had seemed that this was not going to be a small attack.

No, what they faced was a full-on frontal assault, and that would change how they would prepare for such a thing.

“Yes,” he added as his gaze shifted to his Mentat.

“Thufir, I will leave the appropriate preparations for you, but I believe there was another hint for us,” Leto added.

“The traitor,” he added and saw Hawat frown, missing the point. It seemed that his Mentat had not made the connection he had.

 “From his appearance here to his parting words, he hinted that the traitor was not in the room today,” and he saw Thufir’s eyes widen.

“Because he would not have revealed himself so openly had the traitor been present, and he specifically mentioned how it would be wise to not tell others about this meeting,” Hawat affirmed, getting the point. And Leto nodded. And it was a relief to know that he could trust at least these people.

Yet it was troublesome as well, for somehow a Fremen knew more about his household and the problems he faced than himself and his own men, and yet he did not have an inkling of how that was possible.

“Indeed, so everything that happened in this room shall remain a secret from everyone else. Not a single word of it leaves this room. I do not wish the Harkonnens to learn of this meeting,” he added.

They could alter their own plans, hence erasing this small advantage they had just gained.

“We will convene in the morning once more. I need time to think about everything that has happened here,” he said, and Gurney and Thufir saluted as they left the solar, leaving him all alone.

Leto sighed as he leaned back in his seat, loosening the collar of his military uniform.

His mind still stuck on the conversation he had had with the Fremen and its implications. No matter what his view on this Kazab may be, he could not deny that there was truth in his words.

Arrakis was not their home, and from the way things were developing, it might never be. Caldan was his home, Caladan, where twenty-five generations of Atreides were buried, where he was born and raised—Caldan, with its plentiful rains and seas.

And his offer was tempting in some ways. Yet he knew what accepting it would entail.

The door to his solar opened, and he looked up and found Jessica's familiar face. She entered his solar, though she looked absolutely shaken as she walked up to the desk with a troubled face.

She was nervous and conflicted as she stood still before his desk.

“What took you so long?” he questioned, and she bit her lip as she looked up at him with a broken expression.

“I have something I need to tell you.”

.

.

.

Outside the castle in the city, a shadowy figure sat on the edge of a tall building, their legs dangling from the side as they looked over the second city of Arrakis, their face obscured by a mask and a thin cloth that flew in the wind before suddenly the sound of pressurized gas escaping out of a valve erupted in the air as another person stepped on the platform and approached them slowly.

“Is it done?” the person asked, their voice feminine and familiar for this person was none other than the second in command of the Wings, Shishakli.

“Yes, it is,” came the answer from the man clad in a similar suit yet with white flowy hair that danced in the air.

“It was a big risk exposing yourself to the Duke like that. Was it truly necessary to bring him to our side?” she questioned, and the white-haired man, the Harkonnen butcher, nodded.

“While not necessary, his support would make my life a lot easier in the future. I must not just win the war, no. I must have enough strength and backing to do away with the powers that secretly control the Empire. Otherwise, I would be no different than my own father,” he replied as the young female Fremen jumped back and landed on her feet in a display of inhuman dexterity.

“I will trust you, as I always have Inzal,” she said as Inzal Kazab stepped forward.

“I can feel it, you know,” he said as he reached into the skies with an open hand.

“Change is here. Things will move very fast, and we shall soon have it...”

“...Freedom,” Shishakli added as she stared at the orange skies.

“Let us leave. We have been away for too long. Everyone must be waiting for you,” she said as she tapped him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, it is time to finally go back,” he replied as he flipped on his hood and raised his mask to cover his face before taking a step forward and letting his body fall down and cut through the air before a pair of cords shot out of the machine on his back and hooked around a building.

HISSSS!

And with a hiss, compressed air rushed out of the machine, propelling him through the air, as he cut through the air of Arrakis like a blur with Shishakli behind him.

The Board was set!

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