A Star and a Running Man

Writers: Estelle
Date Posted: 13th October 2019

Characters: R'fal
Description: R'fal searches for the mine where his father is imprisoned
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 13, day 9 of Turn 9
Notes: Mentioned: J'ackt (not by name)

Of all of his duties as a wingrider, R'fal found watch duty the most
trying. He didn't have to do anything but sit with Marlath at the Star
Stones and wait for riders to arrive and depart, and that was the
problem. There was nothing to do but brood. He tried to go over lists of
treatments for various dragon ailments in his head, or recall formations
he'd learned in weyrling training, but his mind kept going back to his
family, and his father, who was still in the mine, waiting for R'fal to
come for him, and the fact that now, he couldn't do anything about it.

Zith's rider. What a runner's ass, R'fal thought moodily, kicking at
gravel with the toe of his boot. Thinks he's better than me when he's
nothing but a holdless thief. How does he know what it's like to have
your family's honour ruined?

He sighed and leaned against Marlath's warm hide. Even if he wasn't
under suspicion, he didn't know the location of the mine. It hadn't been
mentioned at the sentencing, likely for good reason. The guards wouldn't
want the bandits' comrades, if any remained free, making a rescue attempt.

It troubled R'fal that he didn't even know the name of the place where
his father was being held. There was no way he could ask, not without it
looking suspicious.

But...he did know that the mine was in Emerald Falls. He could look at
the Records.

}:I think you should leave it.:{ Marlath turned his head, worry swirling
yellow and white in his huge faceted eyes. }:It does not feel right.:{

**I'm not going to do anything I'm not supposed to.** R'fal pushed down
the knot of fear and guilt in his belly. **I just want to look. That's
not doing anything wrong.**

As soon as his watch duty was over, he settled Marlath in their weyr to
sleep and found some hides on dragonhealing in his desk. He'd finished
the assignment he'd needed them for, but they'd provide a good pretext
for being in the archives if anyone he knew found him there.

When he arrived, he nodded to the only other person in the room, a
journeyman harper poring over some old scrolls, and went over to the
shelves where maps of Dolphin Cove's area were kept. After some
searching, he found the ones covering the mountainous area of Emerald
Falls where the mines would be located, and an armful of large tomes
which contained brief descriptions of every settlement under the Weyr's
protection, for the use of sweep and Searchriders.

R'fal remembered looking up his own family cothold in one such book, not
long after he'd graduated from weyrling training, and the brief swell of
pride he'd felt at seeing the few short lines, giving his father and
grandfather's names, the size of their ovine herd and the fact that two
candidates had been Searched from there, one of whom had Impressed a brown.

He wondered what it said now, whether his father's name had been
replaced with that of Holder Galveden.

That wasn't what he was here for, though. He spread out the map and
started to note down the names of holds that looked as though they might
be mines. There were a lot of them, and after covering one section of
the map he began to feel discouraged and turned to the books, hoping to
start crossing some names off the list rather than adding them.

After an hour's steady work, he sat back in his chair and rubbed his
eyes, which itched from the dust of old papers and the effort of reading
the small, cramped hand of whichever archivist had responsibility for
these Records. Although he'd been able to eliminate many of the holds -
those that kept ovines or caprines, those that were located at logging
camps, or trading posts - there were still a fair number of mines which
gave allegiance to the Lord of Emerald Falls. R'fal had never realised
until now quite how large a territory he came from. No wonder the Hold
was so large and prosperous. How was he ever going to tell which was his
father's prison?

"Brownrider?"

R'fal jumped and narrowly resisted the urge to cover his papers guiltily
with an arm. It was only the journeyman harper, leaning around a shelf.

"I'm off. They'll be serving dinner soon." The man gave him a quizzical
look. "Are you coming?"

"Uh, I'll stay a bit longer, if that's all right. Maybe grab some rolls
later." He managed a smile. "I've got a test tomorrow. Dragonhealing."

"Right then. Turn the lights out when you leave." The harper gave him a
sympathetic smile. "Good luck."

R'fal thanked him and resumed his work, forcing himself to ignore the
cramps of hunger in his belly. The healers wouldn't be pleased if they
found that he'd skipped a meal again, but it was just this once. They'd
never know. He could afford to miss dinner, when his father was living
on prison rations.

He started on a section of the map that was more isolated, higher in the
mountains to the south of Emerald Falls. At first this was even more
discouraging; although the settlements were sparse, the majority were
mines and quarries, producing stone, black rock, metal ore and gems for
trade with the lowlands. Few people kept herds up there in the harsh,
unforgiving climate. There was some woodcutting, but not much, this far
from the main trade routes. His list grew longer.

Then, looking at the brief description of one mine, he noticed a symbol
next to the name. It was a star, next to what looked like a running
figure. R'fal wasn't sure what that meant, but it caused the hairs to
rise on the back of his neck. The star was a symbol for danger. He
remembered that from class.

He flipped to the back of the record and found a key, then the curious
running-man shape. The caption read:

"These holds make use of convict labour under Hold law. All signals for
aid should be reported immediately to the rider's Wingleader and a
second dragonpair requested for assistance. Riders in their first Turn
in the Wings should not be assigned to these routes."

R'fal felt his heart thump. So there was a way to narrow it down. With a
rush of new energy, he went back to the top of the list and began
re-checking the mines. Not many of them had the symbol. Most were using
honest labour, which made sense. There wouldn't be enough serious
criminals to support more than a few prisons.

Even so, he still had a list of possible names by the time he'd covered
the whole of Emerald Falls. He needed to know which was the right one.
He might be lucky enough to get in and out of one, but he hadn't a
chance of searching them all.

Not that he was going at all, even if he did know. Was he?

Yawning and stretching his cramped limbs, he decided to go over the
descriptions of the holds one last time before he returned to his weyr.
Maybe there was something he'd missed.

It was in the record of the second-last mine that he found it. He'd been
paying more attention to the descriptions of the holds and their
territory than the names of the holders, but suddenly a name jumped out
at him and he knew it was familiar. Holder Hircine.

R'fal frowned and screwed up his eyes. Where had he heard that name? The
mine wasn't anywhere near his family home, so it couldn't have been from
there.

Hircine was holder of Black Rock Hold, and there were several prison
mines under his jurisdiction. R'fal turned over a few pages to find the
section on Black Rock Hold. It sounded like a prosperous place. Not
surprising, he thought, given the amount of free labour it benefited
from. There was a recent entry about a wedding...

Wedding jewels.

He remembered hearing about them at the trial. The bandits had stolen
the jewels destined to be the wedding gift for Holder Hircine's
daughter. And they'd been found, in his father's barn.

R'fal pulled the map over and stared at it, finding Black Rock Hold,
then the mines in the mountains above it. If there was any justice,
surely the convicted bandits would have been sent elsewhere, to some
place where the holder held no grudge against them. But he also
remembered the malicious looks on the faces of the guards when the
sentence had been read out, and he wasn't so sure.

There was one mine, the southernmost. High up in the mountains, far from
anywhere. R'fal traced the outlines of the mountain peaks, and shivered.
Barren and bitterly cold, after the warmth of the plains where he'd
spent his childhood.

**You don't know for sure,** he told himself. **And anyway, you can't
go. If the guards don't catch you, the dragonriders will.**

But all the same, he stayed, gazing intently at the sketch of the
southern mine from above, imprinting it into his memory so he'd be able
to take Marlath there, if he ever got the chance.

Last updated on the October 14th 2019

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A Star and a Running Man