Just as Leto Atreides was shaped by his father, so it was with young Paul. A strong sense of honor and justice passed from generation to generation. This made what eventually happened to Paul an even greater tragedy. He should have known better.
Leading the military forces against House Moritani reminded Duke Leto of words his father had spoken when Leto was barely seven.
At the time, he had not understood what Paulus meant, but the imagery had remained with him. Gradually, Leto learned the distinction between truly noble houses and those that relied on situational ethics and conditional morality. For House Atreides, the law of the Imperium truly meant something. For others, it did not. House Moritani fell into the latter category.
Now, from where he stood beside his son on the command bridge of the flagship, Leto gazed out on a morning sky thick with dropships crowded with Atreides and Ecazi soldiers, ground cannons, and other long-range armaments, while small hawkships darted through the air on surveillance assignments for the joint strike force.
Ritka was an unadorned, fortified city on the edge of a long-dry sea, butted up against rugged foothills. “Not much worth fighting for here,” Duncan observed.
“We are not here to conquer for profit, but to avenge,” Leto said.
“Look, he cowers behind house shields!” Archduke Ecaz transmitted from his command craft. “I expected no better from him.”
Leto could see that Ritka was covered by massive protective barriers, shimmering force fields that made the fortress keep impervious to projectile fire and aerial bombardment. “He is forcing us to make a conventional ground assault, with our soldiers using personal shields. Hand-to-hand combat, on a big scale.”
“Good old-fashioned bloodshed,” Gurney said. “If that’s what he wants, then we’ll give it to him.”
Paul studied the terrain, thinking of his tactical studies with Thufir Hawat. “The dry seabed gives us a huge staging area to land all our ships, deploy our vehicles and equipment, and organize our troops in tanks.”
Several divisions of Grumman warriors had formed a line on the shore of the seabed near Ritka, where they intended to face off against their enemies. Most were on foot but others sat astride muscular warhorses — House Moritani’s famed stallions. “They’ve selected the battlefield,” Leto said. “It appears they want plenty of elbow room. Good — that works better for us, too.”
“This is too easy,” Duncan warned. He and Gurney sat at illuminated instrument consoles, poring over preliminary scout surveys. “Too obvious.”
“It could be a trick to lure us closer, but Viscount Moritani is not a subtle man,” Leto said. “Get on a secure line and remind the officers and pilots to be extremely cautious.” He turned to where Paul was eagerly studying details on the projection screen. “Your first war, Paul. Many lessons for you to learn here, no matter what happens. I hope you can pick up something vital. There are rules of conduct, conventions of war.”
As if he had heard his father’s previous thoughts, Paul murmured, “The law is not a ball of twine.”
Leto smiled, always amazed at the boy’s intuitive mind, especially now, under pressure. Despite the dangers they were likely to face, the Duke knew he had done the right thing in permitting his son to accompany him into battle. Sometimes it was best to learn under fire. He knew he might not always be there to guide Paul, just as his own father’s death had thrust Leto into a position of responsibility long before he was ready. Grumman would be a proving ground, and the boy would become a fine and honorable Duke himself someday.
Once it was formally declared, a War of Assassins placed distinct legal limitations on the materiel and methods that the combatants could employ. Ultimately, the battle would boil down to hand-to-hand combat, supposedly among champions — with few casualties among innocent noncombatants. But House Moritani had already broken so many rules that Leto could not rely on the Viscount to abide by any accepted conventions in the impending combat. Even the Padishah Emperor would not be able to turn a blind eye to such flouting of Imperial law.
Duke Leto watched another flight of dropships setting down on the ground at the far shore of the dry seabed, disgorging soldiers and armaments. He placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Watch closely, Paul. We could have an unfair advantage here, but we will use no tactics that our honorable ancestors would not have condoned.”
“Even if the Viscount uses them first?” Paul asked.
“We follow our own standards — not anyone else’s.”
Paul continued to stare at the preparations and disembarkation. “In that case, although the Atreides and Ecazi forces appear to have military superiority, we’ll effectively be fighting under a handicap.”
“A code of ethics is never a handicap,” Leto said. He turned to Duncan. “Put me on the main channel. It’s time to start this.”
A shimmering bubble appeared in front of Leto, and he spoke into it, transmitting directly to the Ritka fortress. “Viscount Hundro Moritani, by the rules of kanly and the laws of the Imperium, we demand that you stand down and surrender immediately. We will guarantee you a fair legal forum to insure that true justice is served. Otherwise, your defeat will be swift and sure.”
Static sounded over the open channel, and the image of the Viscount’s Swordmaster, Hiih Resser, appeared, looking pale but determined. Duncan was clearly startled to see Resser, his former friend from the Ginaz School, but he did not interrupt as the other man spoke. “Viscount Moritani rejects your demand and charges you with violating the War of Assassins. You are making an illegal military incursion on a sovereign planet, an action that is expressly prohibited under the Great Convention.”
“You quote such rules to us?” Archduke Ecaz shouted, transmitted from his command craft. “This is no longer a War of Assassins — you have turned it into open warfare.”
As if to emphasize the fact, a volley of Grumman missiles streaked out of launchers embedded just outside the shimmering shields of the Viscount’s fortress city. Because the landed Atreides and Ecazi war frigates were also shielded, the heavy projectiles skipped harmlessly off the barriers, but a cry of outrage rose from the soldiers lining up in ranks on the battlefield.
Resser’s image had vanished as soon as the missiles were launched. It was more a gesture of defiance than an intent to cause any real damage to the opposing army, but it demonstrated the lengths to which the Grummans would go.
Bristling with anger and indignation, Leto ordered his forces to advance on the fortress city.
5
Trying to plan every detail of a large and complex battle is like mapping the winds — expect chaos, unpredictability, and surprises. That is all you need to know.
From his position of safety in the foothills, Rabban watched the impressive and well-coordinated landing of the enemy armies. The sheer number of war frigates astonished him. What an expense! He knew how much it had cost his uncle to send just one division of Harkonnen soldiers to Grumman. House Atreides and House Ecaz must have each spent at least ten times that.
To Rabban, it indicated how outraged Duke Leto and Archduke Armand must be over the wedding-day attack. He couldn’t help but smile. It was too bad that House Harkonnen couldn’t take public credit alongside Viscount Moritani, but he saw his uncle’s wisdom in letting the Grummans accept the blame.
The provocation had certainly worked… though he wished he had a better understanding of Moritani’s plans. Rabban assumed that his uncle understood what the Viscount was truly up to.
