Tula was unquestionably beautiful, with blond hair and sea-blue eyes, but Vor kept remembering how her eyes had flashed at him when they first met. He had detected a hint of hostility that he didn’t understand.
Maybe she resented something from the legends of Vorian Atreides and his military career, although most locals seemed disinterested in ancient tales. Caladan, far from the Synchronized Empire, had been on the outskirts of the destructive battles of the Jihad, and its inhabitants had suffered little from thinking-machine attacks. More than eight decades after the Battle of Corrin, Caladan seemed aloof from Imperial politics. Here, the locals were more preoccupied with preparations for the wedding, which was only a few hours away.
The girl’s background was mysterious, and Vor had heard rumors in town that Tula had run away from an abusive father. Vor hoped she’d find happiness here with Orry. Everyone seemed to accept her and care about her. He looked forward to getting to know her himself. Someday, perhaps Tula would explain what, if anything, she held against him.
Vor hoped Orry would have a happy marriage and a good life. He looked forward to spending family times with them, acting as a surrogate grandfather (ignoring how many times the word “great” should appear before the title). He needed to make up for the lost time and lost relationships in his own life. Someday soon, Willem would find a wife and form a family. And Vor planned to be there, as well.…
The weather couldn’t have been better, though it had rained the night before, leaving the land green and sparkling in the sunshine. With the sweet sharpness of memory, Vor recalled taking Leronica out on a picnic at the top of this very same hill.
Reaching the grassy expanse, he paused to watch men and women as they arranged seats on the lawn, set up bouquets of bright flowers, and strung pastel ribbons on the marriage arbor.
He spotted the town’s wedding planner, a fussy little man in a black formal jacket, who was already dressed for the ceremony. The man waved his arms and shouted directions and kept glancing at his pocket chronometer, telling everyone to hurry up. The event would begin an hour before sunset, so the couple could take their vows as the sky cast spectacular colors over the sea.
Knowing that he had to get ready, Vor returned to the village. In his room at the inn, he took out a clean but simple gray suit he had purchased from the town’s tailor, along with a black ruffle-front shirt. It might have looked dashing to wear his old uniform from the Army of the Jihad, but he had left the garment, and the obligations, behind him long ago. Besides, he didn’t want to dredge up the past — especially not such an ancient past. Orry and Tula were getting married, and they were the focus, not him.…
When he was formally dressed, Vor looked as if he could have been the young man’s father … or another kindly uncle, like Shander Atreides. He returned to the grassy site, where townspeople had already gathered, smiling and chatting. Vor knew only a few of the villagers by name, but many recognized the exotic offworld stranger. Not wanting to call attention to himself, though, Vor simply drank in the murmur of conversations and shared the anticipation.
Willem stood near the wedding arbor, dazed but happy to stand as his brother’s best man. He had worried about Orry’s impetuosity in falling for the young woman, but Vor remembered how swiftly he had fallen for Leronica. Since Tula Veil came from an inland village and knew few people here, she had no special friend to stand at her side.
The seats around the arbor filled. At the appointed time, musicians struck up traditional music with pipes and stringed instruments, and everyone turned their heads. Behind them, a proud-looking Orry Atreides came up the path, his dark hair ruffled by the breeze. He wore a blue formal jacket, and Tula followed him in a long, sea-foam-green wedding dress. By ancient Caladan tradition, the bride followed her husband-to-be in the symbolic expectation that she would follow him in all things during their marriage. Vor smiled to himself: Regardless of the ceremony, reality would set in soon enough when the couple found their own balance of responsibilities.
Tula’s golden hair was pinned back, but the curls fluttered in the wind. She was a picture of loveliness floating down the aisle in her long dress. She seemed to have a hypnotic hold on Orry.
Next came a procession of eight village children ranging from a pair of towheaded little girls to a black-haired boy of perhaps ten or eleven. Vor saw the boy’s patrician features, especially in the gray eyes and prominent nose. Atreides markers. He wondered how many people in this town were related to him. Once he settled down here, he would try to get to know all of them.
The traditional music was so hauntingly beautiful that it brought tears to Vor’s eyes. It seemed essentially Caladan, making him think of waves lapping against the rocky shoreline and a fisherman’s life on the sea.
Under the arbor, Orry and Tula faced each other, holding hands, while Willem stood behind them. The couple said their vows aloud, swearing their commitment before all those who could hear. They had chosen to perform a local “open sky” marriage, without the intervention of the village priest, a corpulent man who stood nearby holding a copy of the Orange Catholic Bible.
Instead of rings, the couple exchanged small gifts. Smiling as if mesmerized by his bride’s beauty, Orry slipped a golden bracelet onto Tula’s wrist, and she draped a simple medallion over his neck. He seemed pleased with the present, but she surprised him by taking his hand and looking into his eyes. “I have another gift for you — something that I have saved for later, in private.”
An amused chuckle rippled through the audience, and Orry reddened in embarrassment, but Tula flashed a quick glance around them; something in her eyes silenced the laughter. “It is a special gift that my family has held for generations. The whole town will know what it is tomorrow.”
The priest cleared his throat and made his only official contribution by announcing the marriage complete and blessed. The sun set out on the ocean, causing flares of color to stream across the sky; according to sailors’ tradition, a bloodred sunset indicated fair weather ahead.
During the reception, Orry and Tula danced together, whenever the attendees would give them the space. Vor kept a respectful distance, just watching. Orry Atreides had grown up among these people, so they should be closest to him on this special day.
Looking over her new husband’s shoulder, Tula caught Vor’s eye and abruptly whispered something in Orry’s ear. The young man looked disappointed by whatever it was, but then she whispered again, and he smiled.
When the dance was over, Orry raised his voice and spoke to the guests. “Since my wife has a special gift to give me from her entire family — and I am as intrigued by this as the rest of you are! — we’ll be taking our leave to begin our new life now. I insist you all stay here and enjoy yourselves. My brother will entertain you — he’s got nothing else to do.”
Willem looked surprised. Some guests murmured, but others chuckled or whistled as Orry and Tula hurried off to the home the two brothers had shared with Shander Atreides, which the couple would use as their honeymoon cottage. Willem had temporarily gotten a room at the local inn, so his brother and new wife could have their privacy
Vor was sorry that he’d had no opportunity to talk further with Tula, but there would be plenty of time for that later, and he didn’t want to intrude now. In fact, he made up his mind to help the young couple whenever he could, maybe even using part of his fortune to establish their new household, similar to the help he’d given to House Harkonnen on Lankiveil.