The Governor's Office was larger than the house of a low merchant. The ceilings would not be reachable by five men standing on each other's shoulders and the wide windows looked over the estate, with the nearby orchard and distant grazing goats all in view. Toma sat at his desk, the usual glass of rice wine by his side, looking over deeds and proclamations sent by Dini for him to sign. Dini's assistant stood by Toma's side, pointing at the various scrolls and papers for Toma to sign and stamp.
There was a knock at the door and two attendants walked in and bowed.
'Sir Esteban Busci of Vulnir, Governor,' the attendant said.
Esteban entered wearing a long bison leather overcoat with a turquoise cotton tunic, one of the colours of Vulnir. Esteban gave a deep bow and began to walk towards Toma's desk. The room was so large that Toma could watch Esteban for a long time as he approached the desk. Dini had said that a large office was essential to break the confidence of those who entered and had to feel the gaze of their host. Toma saw now how Esteban looked at his feet, too aware of being watched as he approached.
'Governor,' Esteban said, and bowed again.
'Wine?' Toma said, finding himself feeling guilty for trying to intimidate the Vulnirian. 'We have rice and grape.'
Esteban accepted some grape wine and Toma made sure that the attendant brought him some sweet Solapailtean wine so as not to cause offence by serving him wine from his own conquered city. Toma remembered now how Torros had reprimanded Toma for bowing to Esteban, who, as the son of the old governor of Vulnir, was considered beneath Toma.
'I hear you have found that which you have sought,' Toma said, pushing the papers aside and signalling for Dini's assistant to leave.
'Yes, Governor,' Esteban said, looking down at his knees. 'And before we continue, allow me to apologise for the death of the two natives during our search. I know you have put great emphasis on avoiding the spilling of blood. I sent the soldiers responsible to the prison as soon as we returned – you can choose their punishment. I do only as I have been bid by the Duro Council.'
Toma watched Esteban and saw the deep creases in his forehead, the almond eyes almost shaking as they jumped from knee to knee. Esteban had always appeared scared and eager to please.
'So, what have you found?' Toma asked, wishing Esteban would look him in the eye.
'I am not at liberty to discuss such things,' Esteban said. 'In such matters I am to report directly to the council and to Miro. They have been informed of my findings.'
'If you cannot report anything to me, why have you requested an audience with the Governor?' Toma said.
Esteban shifted in his seat. He had not touched his wine. Toma wondered if he was afraid it was a vintage of Vulnir. Was Esteban afraid or resentful of Toma regarding his part in the sack of his city?
'Governor, what we have found is to be mined and returned to the empire.'
'Then do so. This does not concern me. So long as you pay your tax.'
'It does concern you, Governor. What I have been searching across this island...and have finally found...we have found it only beneath the native village.'
Toma cocked his head and took a swig of his rice wine. These days he needed to drink much more to feel the heavy numbing effect of the drink. He grabbed a cherry tart from the pile on the table and nibbled on the cake.
'I believe, Sir, that we will have to mine the entire village if we are to follow the orders of the King.'
Toma laughed. 'And how do you intend to turn a native village into a mine?'
'Well, Sir,' Esteban continued to shift in his seat, rocking as if he were on a boat, 'in Solapailtea, when the soldiers are told to turn a village settlement into a timber yard or into a plantation, they burn the village and sell its people into slavery. You do not need to go so far, of course, but to clear the village would be necessary.'
'Absolutely not,' Toma said. 'You are mad. The King himself has proclaimed that he wishes a peaceful imperial expansion. He has forbidden slavery. Unfortunately, you will not have your mine.'
'Sir, the King's men have instructed me to build the mine. His proclamations aside – this is an order.'
Toma leaned forward and looked hard at Esteban, whose quivering eyes continued to jump from his left knee to his right and back again. 'I found a way to get the gold from the natives without hurting or moving them. You can discover a way to get your secret minerals. Build a tunnel. Find your own way. As Miro used to tell me – this is your job.'
Esteban's voice began to waver now as if he were a boy on the cusp of manhood. 'Governor, I understand you chose to do things your own way. But if you do not allow for the construction of the mine, I shall have to tell the Council and they will be most unhappy. I apologise.'
'Stop calling me Sir and Governor – you sycophant,' Toma snapped. 'I have never seen such a timid man tell me what to do. Leave, Esteban. If you cannot tell me what you are seeking to mine and refuse to share any information with me, then leave and find your own way. Why should I help you?'
In a mere whisper, Esteban Busci said, 'Because it is an order from the empire...Sir.'
Toma shook his head and grabbed another cherry tart – biting it in half and washing it down with the sharp tang of the rice wine.
'Go to the new Captain, then, the one who slayed the natives. He will help you. Leave me out of it.'
Without warning, the door of the office swung open and Ximena rushed through with several servants by her side. All carried more wine and cakes, which were placed on the solid tables behind Toma's desk.
'Ah, Sir Esteban Busci,' Ximena said. 'A pleasure to see you.'
'What is the meaning of this, Ximena?' Toma said. 'You are barging into my office without even allowing the attendants to announce your arrival.'
Ximena blushed as she turned to Toma and brought him a pile of cakes on a large platter. As she put the cake down, Toma saw her glance at his papers and Toma remembered how Ami had noted her habit of entering his meetings with excuses.
'Well, you will be rid of me now,' Ximena laughed. 'I am going to visit the Mantecas for an afternoon feast. I shall return after dawn, mostlike.'
Ximena left.
Esteban didn't look up from his knees.
'I have heard that while I was searching in the land around the village you celebrated the new year?' Esteban said.
Toma nodded, taking one of the cakes brought by Ximena.
'Apparently, the first child to be born on Magoa had been born not long before. It is said you visited the family and proclaimed the child the first true Magoan.'
'Yes,' Toma said. 'The child may never see the mainland.'
'It is a peculiar thing to be of a place you may never see, a place that is not itself. People who are not of the Empire, become the empire as it grows; people who are of the empire are taken to its outermost edges and become something else. An empire can be so many things that it may cease to be a thing at all. Much like being a Vulnirian,' Esteban said. 'All that we prided ourselves in before joining the empire has gone. All that was Vulnir has all but disappeared – and yet we are still Vulnirians and we are Duro too – but the Duro will never let us forget we are Vulnirians.'
'Yes, well,' Toma said. 'I discovered only recently that the western ruins are not in the empire at all. Places change. People change. A treatise is not needed on such a subject.'
'Governor, I am told I can only mine the village with your approval. The new Captain will not help me without your command. If you cannot give your approval now – I will return.'
'Go then, and return when you must,' Toma said. 'I will not help you turn the village into a mine.'
Esteban nodded and, as he stood, briefly looked Toma in the eye. What Toma saw was neither fear nor hatred, as he had expected, but a certain look of shame. Shame in himself but perhaps also in Toma. The moment lasted only a heartbeat and it was impossible for Toma to know how he had felt something so clear.
Esteban left the office and after a moment of being alone at his desk, Toma rose too. He stumbled a little and found himself feeling trapped between the desk and chair. He had not been Governor long – but he was already becoming portly as nobles were known to be.
Toma told his servants to leave him. He walked to the other side of the mansion, where Ximena's private quarters were situated. He opened the door to the entrance room and called for the attendants and servants. One by one he gave them all an urgent task. One of the cooks was ill and needed a herbalist. A horse had kicked a gardener who needed attention. Ximena had forgotten her overcoat and needed it brought to her. The attendants in the villa required assistance in preparing for new workers.
Once all of Ximena's servants had gone, Toma went to her office. It was a small room and visibly unused. A thin layer of dust coated her grand oak desk. A pile of scrolls of poetry lay on the floor. Several historical tomes about the Vetustan collapse and the rise of the Duro empire were stacked on a shelf. He tried the drawers in the desk and found them empty. He checked for loose floorboards. He searched inside some of the scrolls and books.
He could find nothing. And yet – he was sure there must be something that would reveal her true intentions. In the distance he heard approaching footsteps. Quickly, he crouched and looked under the desk. From below, he saw a secret drawer that was not accessible from the front. It opened from below like a trapdoor. He slid open the drawer and a bundle of papers fell. It was a pile of letters. Some were unsent letters, addressed to Sub-Commander Torros while others were from Torros, addressed to Ximena. He looked at the dates inscribed on the letters and saw that they had been corresponding for months.
The steps drew nearer and Toma had only time to return the letters to their place before returning to the entrance room. One of the young maids had returned from her errand and looked up at Toma inquisitively.
'Finally, you have returned, girl,' Toma said. 'It is rude to leave the Governor by himself to protect your mistress's quarters while you are dallying on your errand.'
'I wasn't dallying, Sir,' the maid pleaded. 'I promise. I ran straight to the kitchen and back. I couldn't find any cooks that were requiring of a herbalist. I didn't know what to do.'
Toma narrowed his eyes at her then gave a chuckle. 'It seems you failed your errand. But worry not little one. I won't tell Lady Ximena. You watch that no strangers enter her quarters now.'
Toma left the little maid to sigh in relief by herself.
As Toma returned to his office he wondered what was contained in the letters. What did Torros have to say to Ximena? Ximena had rarely spoken of Torros and often spoke only with disdain of Duro nobles and officers. Yet she often spent time with the Mantecas, whom she had castigated and claimed to loathe from the beginning. Now that he looked back upon the past, he remembered that it was Torros who had introduced Ximena to him as his companion. He remembered the restrained delight that Torros had taken in shocking Toma with the announcement that Ximena was to be his companion. He remembered how terrified he had been of Ximena at first, then how she slowly became kinder to him, more caring.
When Toma returned to his office, he ordered more wine, ate his pastries, and called for Dini's assistant to return. He still had some papers to sign.
END OF CHAPTER
Author's note:
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If so, please don't forget to vote!
What did you think of this continuation? Is Toma right to refuse Esteban? Do you think Ximena is hiding something from Toma? Who do you trust? What do you think will happen next? Looking forward to hearing your thoughts! - L.K. Prevost