ASCENDANCY (Feyd-Rautha)

CHAPTER TWO

The massacre of the Atreides family happened quickly in the night, a meticulously orchestrated attack that left no room for escape or mercy. The Harkonnens had barely been away from Arrakis a month before they took back their planet. The once proud and noble House Atreides was brought to its knees in a single, horrific night of bloodshed and treachery.

The death of my extended family weighed on me, but not for reasons of sentiment. With their demise, the power and prestige associated with the Atreides name collapsed alongside them. My own surname now held significantly less influence and sway within the Imperium. 

I wondered if I might have a claim of sorts for the ancestral castle on Caladan. But even if I did manage to acquire it, the risks involved would be vast. The Harkonnens, driven by their vendetta against the Atreides, would not see any Atreides remnant left alive. Any move to assert control over Caladan would undoubtedly provoke their wrath and invite almost certain doom. No – the old paths were closed to me. Family legacy could not be my ladder. I would have to be more cunning. Those who survived the political landscape of the Imperium was those who understood that power belonged not to the righteous, but to the ruthless.

A week before the attack on Arrakeen, Mother Gaius left Chapterhouse in a vessel headed for Giedi Prime, home-planet of the Harkonnens. Though she would never admit it openly, I knew she had a hand at play regarding the attack. Initially, I thought the Atreides' demise might serve her by eliminating the threat of a rouge prophet, but I could not find her depraved enough to abet the murder of a fellow sister and her child.

I joined her on her monthly trip to Kaitain, where she served as Truthsayer for the Emperor. There had been reports of a rising leader among the Fremen, a prophet of sorts, who called himself Muad'Dib. Ever since the beast Glossu Rabban, the Baron Vladimir Harkonnen's sadistic nephew, was appointed governor of Arrakis, Muad'Dib and his desert warriors had wreaked havoc on spice production, systematically destroying harvesters and almost bringing the invaluable trade to a halt.

"The one who points the way, they call him. These are our own religious patterns, are they not? This is our doing?" I asked Mother Gaius. I did not wait for her to respond. I already knew the answer.

We strolled through one of the many vast corridors of the Emperor's fortress. Though his home was beautiful – open with much light from the sun, and greenery around every corner – I had not had much time to enjoy it. My days were filled with strategic councils with my sisters. I was glad to be a part of something of consequence, though an urge for action gnawed at my bones.

Ahead, Princess Irulan approached, moving swiftly. Her golden hair caught the light as she moved. There was a sharpness in her gaze, an urgency she could not quite conceal. "What if Paul Atreides were still alive?" she asked the Reverend Mother, her voice low to keep her theories from unseen ears. "If he were living among the Fremen, they would believe him to be the prophet. We laid the seeds for that, before he even set foot on Arrakis," Irulan continued, her voice tight. "If he is alive, and the great houses find out that my father is the reason for the eradication of the Atreides, he will lose his throne. There would be no hope."

I watched her carefully. She spoke of her father's peril, but in truth she was wholly self-serving. She cared more for her own ambitions, her own claim to the throne than her father's.

"Hope?" Mother Gaius cut in sharply. "We are Bene Gesserit. We do not hope, we plan."

Irulan's figure stiffened, though she was clever enough to know the rebuke was deserved.

"We are vulnerable," Mother Gaius pressed on. "We must act. The Baron's youngest nephew, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, will inherit Arrakis. He may be the answer."