111 Gremurr Mines
After stowing away aboard the ore barge, Villiki endured filthy and stifling conditions for six days as she remained hidden. When the captain tied up to the docks on the northern shore of the Middlesea, she was anxious to get off of the miserable ship.
Each night during the voyage, she had crept out of hiding, finding her way around the deck obstacles by starlight. She stole food and water, then slipped back into the shadows belowdecks, tucking herself into a cramped area behind crates of supplies destined for workers at the Gremurr mines.
The coarse barge captain and his boisterous crew maintained a lax watch, since no one could imagine a stowaway who wanted to go to Gremurr. From muffled conversations she heard through the boards and hatches, Villiki learned that the crew had made this voyage from Olabar to the mines dozens of times without any trouble.
Finally, once the men made preparations to unload the cargo, Villiki tore off the dirty outer rags she had used during her escape from the church. Now that she had arrived, she no longer needed to pose as a nondescript beggar. Beneath, she still wore the fine clothes that the sikaras had given her.
From being cramped belowdecks, she was grimy, her face and hands smudged, her hair badly in need of washing and perfuming. Nevertheless, Villiki did her best to make herself presentable. This was not how she had wanted her son to see her after so many years, but it would have to do. She used a corner of the discarded robe to clean her face, raked her fingers through her hair. Villiki's presence, her attitude, her hauteur would be her finest garment. Tukar would welcome her, regardless. She was his mother, and he had to love her.
She heard men clomping on the decks above, opening the cargo hatch and winching out heavy crates to carry them to shore. Villiki waited until the space was clear before walking into the shaft of sunlight that poured down from the open hatch. She climbed up the wooden ladder and emerged on deck to the utter astonishment of the work crew unloading the ship.
The workmaster of the mines—a barrel-chested, bald-headed man—stopped shouting orders in midsentence to gape at her. She strode imperiously up to him. “You there! I am Villiki, the mother of your lord Tukar. I command you to take me to him.”
The bald workmaster closed his mouth so abruptly that his teeth clicked together, but he recovered from his astonishment and sketched a small bow. “Lady Villiki… your presence here is most unexpected.” His voice was laden with so much speculation and doubt that she had no doubt he recalled the circumstances of her banishment. “I am Zadar, in charge of the mines.”
“Good, then you have the authority to bring me directly to my son.” She glared at the dumbstruck barge crew, not even knowing which one was the captain. “I have had a long, hard journey, and the hospitality of this ship leaves much to be desired.” The men let out astonished protests, but Villiki nudged Zadar to escort her along the dock.
Nearby, seven impressive warships were docked, and workers had begun to cover the hulls with armor plates like scales on a sea serpent. Omra, in his arrogance, had used poor Tukar as his slave to complete this massive project for his war. But the enemy in faraway Tierra held little relevance to Villiki, whose enemies were much closer.
Stepping off the dock, she surveyed the rugged cliffs, smoking factories, smelters, and open mine entrances with a skeptical eye. The clank and clamor of work echoed through the oppressive air. This was a stark place, far inferior to either the palace in Olabar or the main Urecari church… but better than a garbage-strewn alley. Or a grave.
As he led her along, Zadar wisely held his tongue. He asked no questions about why or how she had come here, but his pinched expression made his disapproval plain. She followed him up a gravel path to a house decorated with cut stones and meticulously planted flowers. Flowers? Tukar would not have bothered with such prettiness, she knew, but she had heard that her son was married after all. The wife was probably a spy, with orders to assassinate Tukar should he ever plot against the soldan-shah—why else would she marry a man who had been shamed and exiled? Villiki decided she might have to take care of her, just in case.
She hardly recognized the man who emerged from the villa, it had been so many years. He looked like a common laborer with roughspun clothes and no jewelry at all. After many hard years, and in her current disheveled condition, Villiki knew she didn't look her best either.
Tukar barely gave Villiki a second glance as he grinned at the workmaster. “You're here early for our xaries game, Zadar? And who is this?”
She smiled and spread her arms. “Tukar, my long-lost son! I have returned to you at last.” The last time he'd seen her was on that night his own father had stripped her naked and ordered his guards to beat and chase her out of the palace.
He blanched and began to stammer. “Mother! W-what are you doing here?”
She ignored the idiotic question. “Call your servants. I need a bath, fresh garments, and jewelry so that I may make a proper appearance.”
A woman and a wide-eyed boy appeared behind Tukar—the wife and son, Villiki supposed.A puppy came out to bark at her, and the boy did nothing to control it.
Tukar turned quickly. “Shetia, please tell Firun to begin heating water for a bath. Look through your own clothes and see if you have anything appropriate for my mother.” He shot his wife a glance filled with confusion and silent apologies, then looked back at Villiki. “We have only one servant.”
“Then you have indeed fallen far in your years of exile.” Now that she was here, things would change. It was about time her son received the respect and wealth he deserved.
Tukar stiffened. “I have everything I need, and I do important work for Uraba.” A quiet old servant appeared, a man obviously too weak to work in the mines any longer. “Show my mother to the extra bedroom, Firun. She would like some time to rest and refresh herself.”
Villiki followed the servant. With a glance over her shoulder, she saw that Tukar and his wife looked very worried.
Villiki took a place beside her son as they ate a meager but adequate meal. Now that she was cleansed, perfumed, and wearing a few scant rings and chains—perhaps the finest things that mousy Shetia owned—Villiki felt strong again. Her situation would improve soon.
If Tukar had only listened to her when he was younger, if he had followed her training and advice, he would have been a powerful man today. He could have been the soldan-shah. Now, after so many years in the squalor of Gremurr, he must surely realize the error of his ways.
The wife spoke little. Shetia showed genuine affection for Tukar, and did not seem intelligent enough to serve as a useful spy, although it might be just an act. Villiki remembered her own fatal error in assuming that the Tierran slave Adrea's silence implied stupidity. She wouldn't make that mistake again. No, this wife was not to be trusted, and must be dealt with quickly.
Tukar joked with the young boy, who seemed to adore his father. Rather than learning how to be a great leader, though, Ulan seemed more interested in his dog. The creature had to be tied outside the villa, because Villiki wouldn't tolerate it during the meal, and now it continued to yowl mournfully. The boy looked forlorn as he picked at his food, avoiding his grandmother's gaze, silently blaming her.
If she hadn't known better, Villiki would have thought that Tukar accepted his lot here, and she wasn't going to stand for it.
Right now, Olabar would be in an uproar because of her escape—she couldn't begin to guess what must be happening in the church. Even so, it would take time before word could reach the soldan-shah in Ishalem. Villiki had a slim chance to alter events now, but only if Tukar did as he was told. Maybe with those armored warships at the docks…
As they ate their dinner, she took charge of the conversation. “You've had many years to reflect upon the terrible things that happened, my son. By now you can have no doubt that your wicked half-brother despises you and has ruined your chances for freedom and happiness. Look at you! Omra has earned his own downfall by taking that Aidenist slave woman to wife. As First Wife! He will bring about the end of Uraba. He will destroy the church of Urec. But you and I can make it right. We have an unprecedented opportunity here to change the course of history.”
Tukar frowned and shook his head. “Mother, you don't know what you're saying.”
“I know what I've seen!” She jerked a finger in the direction of the harbor. “You have seven warships there, nearly completed! When they are ready to sail, I will help you take them, with all the soldiers here at Gremurr, to overthrow the corrupt soldan-shah in Olabar. You, Tukar, can take your rightful place after all these years in exile.”
He wore a look of astonished horror on his face. With a sweep of his hand, he knocked her goblet of wine off the table. “No, Mother. I refuse.”
Villiki was astounded. She lashed out to slap him, but with an unexpected ferocity, he caught her wrist and forced her back into her seat. “I said I refuse. I am a loyal subject of the soldan-shah, and I will not hear such treason—even from my own mother. I am already pardoned, and I will take my family back to Olabar as soon as those warships are completed.” His face reddened. “Now I see why you came here, and you are not welcome. I'm sending you back on the next barge, so that my brother can do with you as he wishes.”
Outside the villa, the damned dog kept barking, louder now than before.
Unable to believe what she was hearing, Villiki was blinded by rage. “You've always been a fool, Tukar—weak and unambitious, and I have suffered for it.”
“You have suffered because of your own character flaws, Mother, not mine.”
Villiki lurched to her feet, but Tukar only looked at her coolly and perhaps with… pity? With sudden horror, she realized that if he cast her out of here, she had nowhere to go.
A loud banging from outside broke the tension. The slaves in the mines were shouting. The dog continued to howl. Guards pounded on the metal work bells used to summon crews to and from their shifts.
Ignoring his mother, Tukar rushed out of the villa to see what had happened. Villiki ran after him. Outside, the dog pulled against its rope, barking and barking. A guard stumbled up the gravel path, his cheeks flushed, his mouth agape. “My Lord Tukar, there are monsters in the mountains heading down toward us. An army of great shaggy beasts! We are under attack!”