"The proposal has been received Count," The ambiguous voice announced.
Chaysula crept slowly closer to the door, peering through the crack to hear
more.
Life with her father, the heartless and cruel Count Ayaneal Utaren had taught her never to ask, and never to disagree, at least where he could see. And he as well it seemed, had learned never to tell her of things that she would deem undesirable, waiting until the last possible moment, where she would be forced by due etiquette and survival instinct to agree, and follow meekly, or be rewarded with a sound beating.
She shuddered to think of the last time she had rebelled against his ruthlessness, when she had secretly given sanctuary to a Bene Gesserit, in hopes of finally finding where her mother was hidden. The Bene Gesserit was quickly disposed of, mauled by an Ivaz Cougar, or so the story went. Mohave Prime was a wild planet, with beasts of all sorts, ferocious mostly, the harsh grasslands giving way to dessert and chaparral, a dry, barren place most thought, fit for the most ruthless of animals. Her father.
"What was the ruling of the imperium?" Ayaneal's sinister voice replied, taking great pleasure in the fear he instilled in the hearts of his servants. She could see him towering over the Pygmy with his broad barrel chest, foreboding in his every gesture. He reeked of devices. As he tapped his hand against the black corded Yulirean marble desk, she could see the wheels turning in his sly brain.
Chaysula leaned back from the door, breathing deeply, pursuing the Memnotic trance her mother had taught her before-before she left.
*proposal-ruling of the imperium-the spice-proposal-marriage proposal-who? The imperium-Leto-I am of age-* She gasped silently as the answer erupted into her thought processes, the answer to the question. *father wishes to marry me to Emperor Leto in order to gain larger CHOAM holdings! He fears with the recent turmoil on Arrakis, the only way to remain powerful within the Lansraad is through the thing all crave, the spice! And spice equals power in the universe!*
Chaysula resumed her crouched position at the opening of the door, suddenly aware of the weight of her thick dark earthen brown hair upon her head, coiled in elaborate braids, and weighted by the traditional beads.
She forced that awareness from her consciousness as she continued to eavesdrop. She still had a question though, how would her father gain access to increased CHOAM holdings if it was Leto who controlled the empire?
"There has been no decision regarding the proposal as of yet. Our intelligence within the priesthood and the palace guard has been.vague.though there is talk of House Corrino and the obvious disfavour within the imperium." The servant answered, slowly retreating. "If that is all my lord,"
"That is not all! You speak when spoken to and leave when told! I am your liege lord and shall be treated as if I were the utmost thing in your measly little life!" Ayaneal barked.
"Was there any indication towards an approval during council? What did the scribe say?" The Count demanded. Chaysula resisted the urge to reposition herself when her foot began to ache, eager to hear what would answer her last question.
"When the Regent, Alia, found out that Chaysula was not fully Bene Gesserit, she did not seem altogether opposed."
"Ha!" Her father laughed, expelling his breath violently. "See what my judgement has done! She could be Empress! She could control the empire! And we could control the real power. We could gain a significant number of CHOAM holdings through this arrangement,"
He paused, tapping his finger once more upon the marble. The tapping of the finger meant a plan, it always meant a plan, or cruelty, both often seemed to go hand in hand where her father was concerned.
Ayaneal paused to look at his pygmy servant, a harsh smile, more like the baring of fangs, sat blithely upon his handsome features. "You're wondering, I know Hadgi, how this might be done. And as steward of my household, I trust you to keep this of the utmost secrecy, for genius must be recognized, and treachery will find your wife and children swiftly bloodied and murdered upon the savannah." He gave a blithe little laugh and continued.
"I shall place my most loyal servants in my daughter's retinue, my most lethal as well. Once Emperor Leto has gotten a child upon her, I shall seize it just after birth, by care of my own wet nurse, the aging, but still quite sharp Jahur, who shall threaten Chaysula that if she does not murder her dear husband, her child will be tortured, beaten and worse, maybe even killed. And if she does not accede to my wishes, another of my loyalists shall murder him, and her child shall be fostered on Mohave Prime until such time as she sees fit to gift me a large portion of the CHOAM stock the Emperium holds, effectively giving me the most power in the Lansraad, and the Empire. Chaysula shall be no more than a puppet regent for her child, and who shall hold the strings, but I, who shall take hostage her own offspring?"
Hadgi knew better than to show his revulsion by words or gesture, but Chaysula could see the shock and disgust in his eyes.
Once more, she silently shifted, going over all the possibilities within her mind of how she might save herself from a life of slavery to her father, fearing for her child, and herself and the Empire, if what he said came to pass.
It took no more than a few seconds to locate and balance all possibilities that could occur within Prana Bindu meditation.
Chaysula stood, knowing that there was only one course of action she could allow herself to take. Only one way she would be forever free of her father's ruthless scheming, his cruelty.
She lifted her head, standing as regally as her petit frame allowed, ready to step forward into the lion's mouth, ready to finally rebel, rebel without hope of ever having to go back to that fearful place.
She began to step forward as the lack of forethought suddenly leapt upon her, realization of her plight fully dawning upon her conscious. She turned heel and retreated, merely a silent shadow down the corridor.
*I have no where to turn. I have no place to go. I cannot hope to escape death by public sanctuary, Father is intelligent enough to assassinate me quietly while his plan still remains intact and Geneva or Kenya can take my place, mindless as they are. If only mother where here.* Chaysula despaired as she entered the training chamber.
A small, inquisitive face turned, Faruka, her friend, a Pygmy slave who served her quietly and faithfully, accompanied by the familiar deep purr of Ankhar, the baby Ivaz cougar she had adopted, no more than a month before. "My Lady," The slave began.
"I'll have none of that formal crap at the moment Faruka," She answered brusquely. Faruka was one whom she could let down her guard and speak candidly; totally devoted to the first friendly, kind master she ever received. "I need your brain now more than ever dear friend,"
Chaysula dictated the entire situation, while tiny Ankhar rubbed against her legs, Faruka listened rapt and silent, noting every nuance and every small gesture that Chaysula indicated was important. They discussed a plan of escape, and in turn, a plan of attack.
Faruka cocked her head to the side, a gesture she often struck when thinking. "What about the Sisterhood? They could help you, could they not? Your mother was one of them, and you have been nothing but kind to all Bene Gesserit, even with the terror of your father licking at your heels like an Arawn wolf,"
Chaysula nodded. "They need my genes. Better to save the genes and risk, than lose all hope," She answered, the prospect of her future brightened.
Faruka put a comforting arm about her Lady's shoulder. "I have friends within the smugglers. I can get a message to them in a few hours. The sooner the better." Faruka glanced at her master, an odd, seldom seen look upon Chaysula's face. "Do not fear, Chaysula, it mars your beauty." She comforted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"This is not fear. This is hate."
Life with her father, the heartless and cruel Count Ayaneal Utaren had taught her never to ask, and never to disagree, at least where he could see. And he as well it seemed, had learned never to tell her of things that she would deem undesirable, waiting until the last possible moment, where she would be forced by due etiquette and survival instinct to agree, and follow meekly, or be rewarded with a sound beating.
She shuddered to think of the last time she had rebelled against his ruthlessness, when she had secretly given sanctuary to a Bene Gesserit, in hopes of finally finding where her mother was hidden. The Bene Gesserit was quickly disposed of, mauled by an Ivaz Cougar, or so the story went. Mohave Prime was a wild planet, with beasts of all sorts, ferocious mostly, the harsh grasslands giving way to dessert and chaparral, a dry, barren place most thought, fit for the most ruthless of animals. Her father.
"What was the ruling of the imperium?" Ayaneal's sinister voice replied, taking great pleasure in the fear he instilled in the hearts of his servants. She could see him towering over the Pygmy with his broad barrel chest, foreboding in his every gesture. He reeked of devices. As he tapped his hand against the black corded Yulirean marble desk, she could see the wheels turning in his sly brain.
Chaysula leaned back from the door, breathing deeply, pursuing the Memnotic trance her mother had taught her before-before she left.
*proposal-ruling of the imperium-the spice-proposal-marriage proposal-who? The imperium-Leto-I am of age-* She gasped silently as the answer erupted into her thought processes, the answer to the question. *father wishes to marry me to Emperor Leto in order to gain larger CHOAM holdings! He fears with the recent turmoil on Arrakis, the only way to remain powerful within the Lansraad is through the thing all crave, the spice! And spice equals power in the universe!*
Chaysula resumed her crouched position at the opening of the door, suddenly aware of the weight of her thick dark earthen brown hair upon her head, coiled in elaborate braids, and weighted by the traditional beads.
She forced that awareness from her consciousness as she continued to eavesdrop. She still had a question though, how would her father gain access to increased CHOAM holdings if it was Leto who controlled the empire?
"There has been no decision regarding the proposal as of yet. Our intelligence within the priesthood and the palace guard has been.vague.though there is talk of House Corrino and the obvious disfavour within the imperium." The servant answered, slowly retreating. "If that is all my lord,"
"That is not all! You speak when spoken to and leave when told! I am your liege lord and shall be treated as if I were the utmost thing in your measly little life!" Ayaneal barked.
"Was there any indication towards an approval during council? What did the scribe say?" The Count demanded. Chaysula resisted the urge to reposition herself when her foot began to ache, eager to hear what would answer her last question.
"When the Regent, Alia, found out that Chaysula was not fully Bene Gesserit, she did not seem altogether opposed."
"Ha!" Her father laughed, expelling his breath violently. "See what my judgement has done! She could be Empress! She could control the empire! And we could control the real power. We could gain a significant number of CHOAM holdings through this arrangement,"
He paused, tapping his finger once more upon the marble. The tapping of the finger meant a plan, it always meant a plan, or cruelty, both often seemed to go hand in hand where her father was concerned.
Ayaneal paused to look at his pygmy servant, a harsh smile, more like the baring of fangs, sat blithely upon his handsome features. "You're wondering, I know Hadgi, how this might be done. And as steward of my household, I trust you to keep this of the utmost secrecy, for genius must be recognized, and treachery will find your wife and children swiftly bloodied and murdered upon the savannah." He gave a blithe little laugh and continued.
"I shall place my most loyal servants in my daughter's retinue, my most lethal as well. Once Emperor Leto has gotten a child upon her, I shall seize it just after birth, by care of my own wet nurse, the aging, but still quite sharp Jahur, who shall threaten Chaysula that if she does not murder her dear husband, her child will be tortured, beaten and worse, maybe even killed. And if she does not accede to my wishes, another of my loyalists shall murder him, and her child shall be fostered on Mohave Prime until such time as she sees fit to gift me a large portion of the CHOAM stock the Emperium holds, effectively giving me the most power in the Lansraad, and the Empire. Chaysula shall be no more than a puppet regent for her child, and who shall hold the strings, but I, who shall take hostage her own offspring?"
Hadgi knew better than to show his revulsion by words or gesture, but Chaysula could see the shock and disgust in his eyes.
Once more, she silently shifted, going over all the possibilities within her mind of how she might save herself from a life of slavery to her father, fearing for her child, and herself and the Empire, if what he said came to pass.
It took no more than a few seconds to locate and balance all possibilities that could occur within Prana Bindu meditation.
Chaysula stood, knowing that there was only one course of action she could allow herself to take. Only one way she would be forever free of her father's ruthless scheming, his cruelty.
She lifted her head, standing as regally as her petit frame allowed, ready to step forward into the lion's mouth, ready to finally rebel, rebel without hope of ever having to go back to that fearful place.
She began to step forward as the lack of forethought suddenly leapt upon her, realization of her plight fully dawning upon her conscious. She turned heel and retreated, merely a silent shadow down the corridor.
*I have no where to turn. I have no place to go. I cannot hope to escape death by public sanctuary, Father is intelligent enough to assassinate me quietly while his plan still remains intact and Geneva or Kenya can take my place, mindless as they are. If only mother where here.* Chaysula despaired as she entered the training chamber.
A small, inquisitive face turned, Faruka, her friend, a Pygmy slave who served her quietly and faithfully, accompanied by the familiar deep purr of Ankhar, the baby Ivaz cougar she had adopted, no more than a month before. "My Lady," The slave began.
"I'll have none of that formal crap at the moment Faruka," She answered brusquely. Faruka was one whom she could let down her guard and speak candidly; totally devoted to the first friendly, kind master she ever received. "I need your brain now more than ever dear friend,"
Chaysula dictated the entire situation, while tiny Ankhar rubbed against her legs, Faruka listened rapt and silent, noting every nuance and every small gesture that Chaysula indicated was important. They discussed a plan of escape, and in turn, a plan of attack.
Faruka cocked her head to the side, a gesture she often struck when thinking. "What about the Sisterhood? They could help you, could they not? Your mother was one of them, and you have been nothing but kind to all Bene Gesserit, even with the terror of your father licking at your heels like an Arawn wolf,"
Chaysula nodded. "They need my genes. Better to save the genes and risk, than lose all hope," She answered, the prospect of her future brightened.
Faruka put a comforting arm about her Lady's shoulder. "I have friends within the smugglers. I can get a message to them in a few hours. The sooner the better." Faruka glanced at her master, an odd, seldom seen look upon Chaysula's face. "Do not fear, Chaysula, it mars your beauty." She comforted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"This is not fear. This is hate."