It was nearly daylight now, and Rola continued to head south. It was as good a direction as any, especially since she thought the one actual civilized town in Duran was, in fact, located south of the mines where she'd spent the past year. Of course, the city of Duranport wasn't much of a city, and most of it was run by the same people who ran the mines, and by the time she reached it on foot they'd likely have gotten a message to be looking for her (assuming she reached it without getting caught). But none of that mattered, because it was a port, it was the only port, and it was a way out.
She kept to the base of the hills, running as much as she could stand to run, taking only brief rests when she found a place that was sheltered enough that she wouldn't be seen by anyone approaching. She wasn't cold anymore, but covered in a thin sheen of sticky, dirty sweat underneath her clothes. The hours ahead, with the sun pounding down on her, would be even worse, especially once she made it out of the shadow of the hills.
The good part was, she hadn't heard anyone on her tail. She had her eye on a taller hill just ahead where she thought she could get a good look around her, both back the way she had come to check for anyone following her, and ahead to judge how much further she had to go, or if she was even going the right direction.
Rola ran faster, hoping to deal with the uphill climb before the sun was fully up and the heat began to set in. She soon reached the base of the hill, but saw no easy place to climb it. The sun had not yet crested the rise, so she continued on around, slowing her pace a bit to get a better view of the terrain. At the other side of the hill, Rola stopped dead in her tracks; there was water.
Water. In Duran. This must be the best kept secret on the whole planet of Jarga.
She ran to it, sank to her knees at the edge of the small pool and thrust her cupped hands into the water. It was so muddy she couldn't see her hands once they were submerged, but she didn't care. She scooped water over her head and splashed it over her clothes, cooling herself off more than cleaning her or quenching her thirst.
Once she was thoroughly soaked, she stood. There was no point in drinking this water, or refilling her canteen. She had enough to last a couple of days if she used it sparingly, and she'd be in Duranport in that length of time. Nonetheless, the water felt good against her skin.
The sun was just beginning to peak above the top of the hill as Rola climbed the side. She had traveled all the way around to the southern side of the hill so she wouldn't be seen by anyone approaching. Before she even made it to the top, however, she realized her mistake: Duranport was just on the other side of the ridge, only a few miles west of where she now stood. Anyone looking from that side of the range could have spotted her already, could already be closing in.
Fortunately, there was better cover on the western side of the hills. Yes, the sun was in her eyes, but at least there were bushes and large rocks and slightly rolling hills, places she could hide or duck out of sight. And she would be there much sooner than she thought: a few hours would have her on a ship.
Rola took a quick look back the way she had come to make sure there was still no one following her, then surveyed the terrain she had yet to cover. It looked empty, especially compared to the outskirts of any other city, and especially in the morning. There should be farmers carting their foods to the market and merchant wagons peddling their wares. Here there was nothing, no farmers, no merchants, no nothing. And for Rola, that was a good thing.
She headed down the side of the hill at a brisk pace, taking little care about being spotted. When she was back on semi-level ground, she started running again, with renewed vigor from being so close to her goal of getting away. There were still no roads, but at least there was a semblance of paths here, making her going even easier. She hardly glanced backwards at all before she was in the edges of the city of Duranport.
It was not a large city. It couldn't even really be called a city, except that there was nothing else on this entire continent and Duranport was the hub. There were hundreds of ships at the extensive docks, thousands even, but most of the ship workers chose to stay aboard or nearby their ships, hoping to get in and out of port as fast as possible. This place was a processing station, nothing more.
The low buildings were spread out in a shallow crescent along the wide bay. They all had the same dull, flat, baked mud exterior and the same square, windowless shape. The tallest building was perhaps three stories, and it did have large windows on the top floor with a small balcony. It stood out among its short, squat neighbors.
Rola made her way towards the harbor slowly, looking for various supplies along the way. There was no market square in Duranport, as there were few people buying anything. Most of the people stayed inside during the heat of the day, so Rola did not encounter many people in the streets, and that suited her just fine. She saw what she suspected to be a grocers, with a colorful awning spreading out in front of it and a few baskets of coconuts and pineapples and some fruit she didn't recognize sitting next to the wall. She had food for a few more days, so she kept heading towards the docks.
She went directly to the largest ship she saw. The larger the ship, the easier it would be to get lost on it. She climbed up the ramp, hopped onto the deck, and approached the first person she saw. “Who do I need to speak to to get passage on this ship?”
The man, a large, barrel-chested man with bowed legs from too much time at sea, stared at her for a long moment before responding. “Fresh from the mines, then?” he asked.
“What?” Surely there were other passengers out of Duran, even if only rarely.
He jerked his head slightly upward. “Your hair is short. You've come from the mines.”
Rola reached up and scrubbed her hand through her cropped, shaggy hair. If she had thought about it possibly giving her away, she would have made some attempt to hide it, or at least come up with an excuse. Now it was too obvious, and too late. “I did my time. Now who do I talk to about passage?”
The man heaved a large coil of rope onto his shoulder, then turned away, yelling, “Terek!” as he walked away from her.
A short, squat man towards the back of the ship came forward to meet the first sailor, who simply pointed over his shoulder at Rola and kept walking. The short man ambled over to where Rola was standing and planted his feet wide, the stance of a seasoned seaman. He crossed his arms, looked her up and down, and then said, “You're from the mines.”
“I see I should have bought a hat,” Rola said, “but I opted to save my money for passage on your fine ship.” She spread her hands to indicate the ship around her, then crossed her arms.
“They don't let folks out of the mines, at least not without prior arrangements. You've run off.”
“I did my time, paid my dues, and now I'm offering to pay you. I'll pay or I'll work, but you're leaving port either way and I would like to be aboard when you do.”
The man had not moved a muscle. “They'll hang me if they find an escaped prisoner aboard my ship. You know that as well as I.”
“Fine. I'll find another captain who likes the yellow of my gold better than you do.” Rola turned and started to climb back onto the ladder.
“Hold up, there,” the captain said, making his way closer to her. He came to a stop only inches from her, where she could hear him whisper, “Yellow, did you say?”
“I did.”
“Mayhap I like your yellow just fine.” He put his hand on her arm to guide her back onto the ship. “Let me see the shade, then we'll see what we can do about finding you a hat.”
Good.
ReplyDeleteWonderful.
Do you know how jealous I am of your description and character development?
Quite.