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rainbowfic2025-02-09 08:52 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2025-02-09 08:52 pm
Beet Red #15; Azul #28; Warm Heart #14 [Starfall]
Name: Into the Depths
Story: Starfall
Colors: Beet Red #15 (When the going gets tough); Azul #28 (Rectitude); Warm Heart #14 (blame)
Supplies and Styles: Portrait
Word Count: 7794
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Mentions of death/drowning/dead body.
Notes: Road back from Kalna, nr. Portcallan, 1313; Viyony Eseray/Leion Valerno. (Follows on directly from Leion's trip down the coast with Viyony's father in wake me up and keep me conscious, is this really love or are you just fooling around? and Unanswerable.)
Summary: Viyony, Leion, and the long ride home from Kalna.
The carriage jolted over another rut in the road. The driver had assured them that once they joined the main route northwards to Portcallan it would get much better, but Viyony, having travelled the opposite direction on the previous evening, knew that they had quite some time to go yet before they reached that turning. She frowned at the unresponsive figure seated opposite her, slumped against the side of the seat. Leion stirred every time they hit a stone or a dip in the road, but only as far as shifting his position a little or giving a small grunt and then dropping off again.
How could he possibly sleep though this? Viyony couldn't help wondering if he was pretending—Leion had seemed in an odd mood ever since her father had left them at the inn earlier. He hadn't really recovered from his accidental poisoning yet, but she didn't think that was why he was suddenly being so short and distant with her. But still, each time the carriage lurched over something and Viyony was half shaken out of her seat, Leion slumbered on, oblivious.
Viyony sighed. She slid closer to the screened window, as far away from him as she could get in the cramped space. Her head ached. She had left Portcallan in a hurry yesterday afternoon after receiving her father's summons, and she hadn't reached Kalna till late. The innkeeper had given her a small supper and she had snatched what sleep she could in between keeping an eye on Leion in his feverish state. She'd been so on edge this morning, too, that she had eaten little of her breakfast, even though the inn's fare of round slices of seeded brown bread and fried fish was much more to her liking than Portcallan's usual overly sweet offerings. She had not really had an appetite for lunch, either.
She was regretting it. Between that and the lack of sleep, she felt hollow. If Leion had been awake she would have told him exactly what she thought of him all over again—for going off with her father, for making himself sick, and a dozen other things. Viyony grimaced. It wasn't really Leion's fault. This mess was very much an Eseray affair.
Mother might as well have set a trap for her—go to Portcallan, she'd insisted. Have an affair while you're there, she'd as good as added; know what you're doing before you tie yourself up in a loveless marriage. Now Mother and Father were pulling those two things together as an excuse to interfere in Viyony's arranged marriage, even though they knew how vital it was to Eseray's survival that she went ahead with it.
Viyony shivered, despite the warmth in the carriage. She had made Father promise that when he went to Lialia, he wouldn't say anything rash about Leion to Imoren, her betrothed, but that didn't mean he might not blurt out something by accident and wreck everything anyway. The opposite fear plagued her too—that perhaps Father and Mother really did have a way to sort everything out without her marrying Imoren. Viyony's gaze strayed back to Leion. What if she'd made Father promise not to do the one thing that might save them all from misery? Cold tendrils of doubt wound their way around her heart and into her mind. What if she didn't have to do this?
The carriage rattled with particular violence over a broken section of road, shaking that nonsensical fantasy right out of her head. Even if her parents had a way out that might work, which there was no saying it would, and even if Leion liked Viyony enough to make the risk worthwhile—and he didn't, he couldn't, Leion wasn't serious about anybody, she'd told her Father so earlier—it would still be no good. Viyony's home was at Eseray, while Leion belonged in Portcallan. She mustn't give into the tempting illusion of an easy way out that she of all people knew could not exist.
Viyony tried without much success to settle into a more comfortable position. She shot another dark glance at Leion, but he remained unmoving. Well, she told herself, he must be asleep. He would never have been quiet for this long if he wasn't. She reached for the book she had discarded earlier, lying open on the upholstered seat, but found it too much effort to focus on the words in the jolting vehicle. Leaning back, she closed her eyes.
She must have drifted into a light doze, vaguely aware of the motion and rattle of the carriage, the rhythmic sound of horses' hooves, and the roughened fabric of the seat against her cheek, but none of them were quite real, giving way to a dream of birds' wings flapping; feathers falling as they took flight, and then transmuted into flapping sails and the endless rise and fall of a sea voyage.
Abruptly, the dream clarified into a distinct scene:
Viyony stepped down from the carriage into the sunlit yard of a wayside inn. Its sign outside displayed seven painted Starflowers, a shade or two darker blue than the sky above. Viyony did not go inside. She turned away and walked down a narrow track between hedges and low walls into the woods. She could hear the rushing sound of water somewhere close by.
The path led to a river, running clear and fast through dark rocks. A few lengths further upstream, she could see a small stone bridge. Viyony walked along the bank until she reached it and crossed the river. She then headed back along the water on the other side until she came to a jetty that had been obscured from her view earlier by the trees.
Viyony carried a bunch of wild flowers in her hand that she hadn't picked, and with the sureness of a dream, cast them into the river. The water in this shallow, wider stretch beside the jetty was murky, clogged with weeds and almost still. Her handful of wilted flowers and leaves floated away so slowly time itself might have ground down to a fraction of its usual speed.
A woman stood at the far end of the jetty with a basket beside her, working at something in her hands—a net, or cloth. Viyony put up a hand to see, the sun filtering through the trees opposite blinding her
A sharp slap and splash broke the tranquillity. Viyony blinked. The woman had vanished.
Viyony turned on the spot until she could see what had happened. The woman was face down in the dirty green water beneath the jetty, tangled up in Viyony's flowers and grass; now rapidly growing into long, grasping rushes and waterweeds. Viyony caught her breath and waded forward into the water from the shore, but when she reached the woman and put a hand to her, she was already sodden and cold. The body had turned over in the water as Viyony approached. She was no longer face down, but staring upwards, eyes wide and unseeing, and the colour of her skin that had been as brown as Viyony's now owned a muddy pallor.
A baby cried, sounding everywhere at once as its scream echoed between the overarching trees on either side. It had been in the basket next to the woman, and she had knocked it into the river with her as she fell. Leafy fingers of branches cast shadows over the child and the weeds snaked out towards it while dark shapes lurked under the water.
Viyony tried to wade on, towards the child—but everything blurred back into the vagueness of ordinary dreams. She couldn't move forward, no matter how hard she tried. She could only see the woman's empty face and hear the child screaming, and -
"Viyony!"
She jerked awake. Leion slowly pulled back from her as she blinked and tried to focus. She pressed herself harder into her seat. "What are you doing?"
"You were yelling," he said. "What was it? A regular nightmare—or something else?"
Viyony straightened. Her heart pounded in her ears. She grasped Leion's hand—his warm and hers like ice. "Leion, stop the coach! Stop it this instant!"
Leion moved forward easily and knelt up on the seat beside her, to rap on the board behind the driver's seat. "Want to tell me why?" he asked as he slid back down into a sitting position next to her.
Viyony did her best.
As soon as they were stationary, Leion jumped out of the carriage, Viyony clambering down after. Both of them hurried towards the driver, who had dismounted already, and was standing there, holding the horses as he watched them approach. He was a man of around forty, wearing a hat to shade pale skin against the sun and, when he removed it to wipe his brow, another reason became apparent, as his light brown hair was growing thin on top.
"We're not far from Weyell, you know," he said. "That's where I told your father I'd set you down for a meal. Only half an hour from here, and I can change the horses. There's nowhere better, not on this road."
Leion rested a hand on the side of the coach. "Viyony dreams," he said evenly. "True dreams, not the usual sort. She sees things before they happen." He looked to Viyony.
"Do you know an inn called the Seven Starflowers?" she asked. "It must be somewhere near here."
The driver glanced from Viyony to Leion. One of the horses stamped beside him and he gave it a reassuring, practised pat. "The one at Attan, do you mean? It's about ten minutes away—but not a patch on the Crosspaths at Weyell."
"We only need to make a short stop there—just to see if we can help someone," said Leion. Again, he said it easily, as if it was the kind of thing one often did on a journey. Viyony didn't know if she was grateful for that, or if she almost wanted to hit him for it. It was never easy for her. "Hopefully we won't be long, and then we can go onto Weyell as planned. I know it sounds odd, but trust me, it's a matter of life or death. We must get to Attan as soon as possible."
The driver looked at Viyony. "Your father hired me. If you want to, then that's fine by me. Just if it takes too long, I'll have to charge extra."
"Yes, of course. Don't worry about that," said Leion. "I'll pay the difference myself if Imai Reohrsyn isn't willing. Now, please—hurry!"
Arriving at Attan after what must indeed have been around ten minutes from their previous stop, Leion alighted first again, and immediately turned back to help Viyony. She batted his hand away and leapt lightly down beside him.
"You seem better," she observed.
Leion gave a brief half-smile. "Yes. That little nap seems to have worked wonders. You go on—I'll follow as soon as I can, but I'd better make sure everything's all right here with the horses and what have you."
Viyony nodded. She knew which way to go, although it always surprised her when she found herself in one of her dreams made real. She walked down the lane with the wall and trees on one side and the hedgerow on the other. There was no time to stand and wonder at the strangeness of her familiarity with somewhere she'd never been before—she had to get to the jetty before it was too late.
The way there was as she had seen it in the dream, although there were greater distances between the marker points she'd seen—when the path met the river, the stone bridge, and finally the old jetty itself.
Viyony made it to the river, sliding down the mud at the edge. She put her hand to the boards of the jetty to steady herself, and heard a roaring cry from somewhere out of vision. The child. That part was real too.
Viyony hastily pulled off her shoes and waded into the water, silt and slippery stones proving hard to navigate. She splashed forward regardless, keeping one hand lightly against the jetty in case the river deepened abruptly under her. Tendrils and waterweeds clutched at her as she went, like live creatures wriggling around her. Perhaps some of them were. She plunged on, unable to see the squalling baby. It must be on the other side of the jetty, or at the end, where a small boat had been tethered. Viyony kept going until she reached the boat.
The water was nearly up to her chest this far out and the current's pull was stronger. She caught hold of one of the struts of the jetty. The wood was softer than it should have been against her fingers. Concentrating on trying to avoid the boat, bobbing about in front of her, she walked right into something solid—large, cold, a mass of sodden fabric—and shrieked.
Viyony choked down her panic. It was the woman she had seen in her dream—of course it was. What she was hanging onto was a leg wrapped in a thin skirt. She navigated her path around the corpse as quickly as she could—Viyony had already seen enough of the woman's lifeless face for one day. She gritted her teeth against the increasing chill in the water, and then, as she rounded the end of the jetty, the riverbed abruptly slid away from under her.
She sank below the surface, before fighting her way back up into the air. She gasped for breath and flailed about for something to hold onto, her hand finding the side of the rowing boat. She got a better grasp on it, and used it to pull herself around it until her feet hit the river's bottom again. She sagged against the little vessel, her head resting briefly on its moving side as she spat out river water, and breathed in and out with new gratitude. The baby's screaming resumed. This wasn't over yet.
Viyony raised her head. She could see the child now, in a small carry-basket, as it had been in the dream. It was tangled up in rushes and the ends of tree roots less than half a length from the bank, that must have saved it from being swept away by the current before now. Viyony cursed herself—if she had kept her head and looked properly before running straight into the water, she would have reached the poor thing already. It must have been there for some time—the basket was growing steadily wetter and heavier, and the child more distressed; its cries subsiding into tearful hiccoughs. Any moment now, the carry-basket must finally sink or tilt too far to one side, tipping its cargo into the water.
Viyony caught her breath, then put her hand to the side of the jetty and splashed back towards the riverbank and the baby as fast as she could. Halfway there, she slipped, but her hold on the jetty kept her upright.
"I'm coming," she gasped. "Hold on, little one—nearly there!"
Moments later, she reached it. She halted, knee deep in muddy, weed-tangled water, and snatched up the child, hugging it to her. She nudged the basket ahead of her with her legs, and when she made it it the last few steps to the edge, leant backwards against the nearest tree trunk, holding the infant too tightly, shaking.
Footsteps thudded heavily on the path above her, followed by a rustling even closer to hand. Viyony looked up as Leion halted a length away from her, the coach driver still padding along the road at a slower pace. Leion skidded down the mossy slope to Viyony's side.
"Is it all right?" he asked. He held back from joining her in the water, standing on a dry ledge and holding onto the nearest tree branch. "Are you?"
Viyony nodded, unable to speak.
The driver puffed to a halt on the path next to them. "What is going on? You found whatever it is?"
"What about the woman?" asked Leion, his attention still fixed on Viyony. "You said the mother, or someone, was with the child in your dream. Where is she?"
Viyony swallowed. "T-too late. Help me up—I need to get this little soul to the inn."
"But she's there? Then we have to make certain of that," said Leion. "We can't just leave her." He craned his head back up towards the driver. "Can you help Viyony up and then come and give me a hand?" He dropped down into the water, splashing Viyony as he landed.
Viyony watched him pass. "She's—she's right at the end, by the boat. I think—I think perhaps she might be caught on it or she'd have been long gone by now. I don't know. Watch out—it's bit deeper in the middle."
Leion held up a hand to acknowledge the information, but ploughed onwards regardless.
"Will you be all right with the child?" the driver asked Viyony. He had not yet left the path.
Viyony shook herself into motion again. She shifted her hold on the baby against herself, enough to allow her to use her other hand briefly to rescue the basket. She dropped it onto the muddy bank, and then crouched down to replace the baby inside it. It wailed again in renewed protest.
"Yes," she said, in delayed answer to the driver's question, with more certainty than she felt. She held the basket up for the him to take. Once he had, she retrieved her cast-off shoes and then clambered up the slope to join him.
The driver hesitated. "You sure you don't need a hand?"
"It's not that far to the inn," said Viyony. "You'd much better make sure that Leion doesn't drown himself somehow—and he'll need help to get that body out."
"Right," the driver said, without much enthusiasm for the prospect, but he didn't otherwise object to what was not even remotely part of his job. He sighed and then began a cautious downward route from the path to the bank, and then walking onto the jetty, surveying the situation before he got himself wet; a precaution neither Viyony or Leion had been sensible enough to take.
Viyony raised her chin and held the basket in nearer. "I know, I know, lovebird," she murmured to its whimpering little occupant. "Let's get you somewhere warm and dry, with people to help. Everything will be all right."
Which, if the woman who had drowned was the child's mother, was an awful lie.
Viyony straightened herself and adjusted her clinging wet trousers, and then headed back along the river path at the best pace her still-trembling legs could manage.
"It's no good," said the driver, standing over Leion and watching as he tried, patently far too late, to save the woman. Leion swallowed and slumped back into a sitting position on the bank, rubbing his damp hand across his face. He straightened up and the driver put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. Imai Valerno. You did all you could. This poor soul was long gone before we found her."
Leion nodded, rising onto his knees where the jetty met the path. He still had half a mind to try again, even though the driver was obviously right. It hadn't been this way when Viyony had had the warning dream about Delver. They had reached him in time to rescue him. What was the point in dreams about people nobody could save?
"I suppose one of us had better kept an eye on her while the other goes back to the Starflowers," said the driver. "What do you say?"
Leion drew in a breath, wiped out by his efforts. This kind of activity really wasn't the best idea after a night spent fighting a fever. He looked up, and forced himself to think properly. "Yes, you're right. First, though, I need you to act as a witness while I look at something."
"Eh?"
Leion got to his feet, using a nearby tree branch for assistance. "Please. This shouldn't take too long, and it'll hopefully save us a lot of trouble presently."
Perhaps it was what came of having a senior Guardian of the Peace and a High Justice for parents, but Leion didn't want to finish up this ill-advised trip by getting locked up for suspicious involvement in a death that he, Viyony and the driver had absolutely no good reason to know anything about.
"Just watch me, so you can testify that I didn't falsify or tamper with anything." Leion knelt down again beside the body. He could see no mark on the woman from this angle, nothing that hadn't been the result of his work in trying to revive her. He nodded to the driver, and between them they managed to turn her over, face down into the mud.
"Laon's light," he thought he heard the man mutter somewhere over his head.
Leion moved forward and examined the woman with a frown. He lifted up her hair, and spied a nasty gash at the back of her head, although with less blood than one would normally expect. That, though, would be due to the cold water—possibly, the blow might even have killed her outright. He drew back and then got to his feet, before trying somewhat ineffectually to brush dirt from his soaked trousers.
"If you could take a look at that," he said to the driver, gesturing at the wound. "I'm sorry. I just need you to be able to back me up when I tell this to whoever's in charge around here."
The driver gave a short laugh. "I'm not that squeamish, don't worry. Not what I had in mind for today, but I'm doing better than her, so I'll be thankful for that much." He crouched down awkwardly, joints grumbling, and repeated Leion's examinations. He rose with painful slowness. "Well, she didn't throw herself in. Reckon someone did this?"
"Let's hope for some indication otherwise," said Leion. "The people of Attan aren't going to thank us for this as it is. If we have to cry murder, I don't know what they'll do."
Leion walked slowly down the jetty, scanning the surface as he went. At the end, he knelt down and crawled forward, feeling his way ahead with his hands. One of the boards shot up when he pressed it. "Thank you," he murmured to whatever Powers might be listening. He lowered it back into place, and looked around him. There was a small bundle at the very end of the pier, which turned out to have flatbread wrapped up in waxed paper inside. If the woman had brought anything else with her, it was lost in the water. Leion traced his fingers along the edge of the jetty and halted with his hand close to one of the supporting poles. It had blood on it. He leant in nearer. Strands of hair too.
Leion raised his head and waved at the driver to join him. "Careful," he advised. "That board might not be the only rotten one."
"So it was an accident?" asked the driver, once Leion had shown him his findings.
Leion shrugged. "Impossible to say for certain, but we can show this to whoever needs to see it, and hopefully they'll agree it appears to be the likeliest explanation." He crossed the short distance between loose board and post again, mentally measuring up the space between them against the height of the woman. It all seemed to fit. A hitherto unnoticed tightness in his chest eased, as the vague, nightmarish visions he'd had of winding up mired in a murder enquiry and fruitlessly trying to explain Viyony's warning dreams to angry officials, faded.
The driver shook his head. "Cursed shame, though. Poor soul."
"Yes. Quite." Leion straightened. "Will you stay here and watch the body? I'll be as quick as I can."
"Yes, do. I've no wish to keep running back and forth all day."
Leion nodded. "Good. Thank you. I'll go after Viyony, make sure she's all right, and find whoever is the proper person to report this to."
Leion reached the Seven Starflowers and leant against the wall before entering, in order to recover his breath safely out of Viyony's sight. His head ached and he wouldn't have minded collapsing back into the carriage and forgetting the whole business at the river. This was probably the sort of reason why physicians tended to tell people to rest after being accidentally poisoned by over-enthusiastic researchers. As he waited, appreciating the warmth of the mellow-coloured stones against his body, the sound of raised voices filtered out from within, muted but unmistakably irate.
"Oh dear," muttered Leion. He peeled himself off the side of the building, and headed inside.
The bar seemed to be filled with people shouting at Viyony, who was backed up against the far wall, still hanging onto the baby, and standing bolt upright with her mouth set in a stubborn line. Her clothes were dripping and her hair hung damp and tangled around her face.
"Hey," said Leion, raising his voice. He waved, drawing their attention, and then pushed his way through the unfriendly gathering. "Come on, leave Imai Eseray alone! Has she told you there's been an accident down by the river?"
Viyony said, "I've been trying!"
"Anyone know whose child this is?" Leion asked as the shouts subsided in suspicious grumbling and muttering. The inn wasn't quite as crowded as it had first appeared to him. It was a small room and nine or ten people had looked like a multitude crammed in so closely around Viyony. "I'm afraid we've got bad news about whoever was taking care of them."
Two of the villagers standing close to his elbow exchanged a glance with each other; a woman and an older man.
"Not Iopa?" said the woman.
"I don't know her name." Leion turned slightly, addressing the room. "Maybe about 30, black hair, light brown skin, this sort of height?" He indicated with his hand somewhere above his shoulder. "Wearing a long green skirt and a brown jacket."
The woman drew in her breath. "Sounds like Iopa. What's happened?"
"I'll need to talk to your Speaker first," said Leion. "Or the Guardian of the Peace, if one's around—whoever's in charge here."
The innkeeper, who had entered through an inner door, told Leion that they had already sent for the Speaker. The local Guardian, he said, covered a few other villages and hamlets in the vicinity, as did their Justice, and both were currently a few hundredlengths away at Lasthill.
The Speaker for Attan, Imai Cahller, turned out to be a woman of around fifty, with fine dark hair, lightly-bronzed skin and a brisk manner. She took in the situation so swiftly once she arrived, that Leion found himself leading her and a couple of other senior members of the village back to the riverside only a few minutes later.
She listened as they walked to Leion's explanation without comment and when they reached the jetty, she studied the body, and let Leion point out his previous findings. She then spoke separately to the driver, and ordered the other two villagers to carry the dead woman away. In a tiny village like this, Leion presumed that would be to the communal building—probably the Speaker's office would be there, too.
"This does seem to have been an unfortunate accident," she observed to Leion, as they headed back to the inn again. "However, I don't understand why you and your friends were here at all. I'm glad you were, for the child's sake, but the story your driver told me sounded extremely odd to me."
Leion had not wanted to explain about Viyony's affinity in front of three strangers, but the Speaker alone was a different matter. Cahller seemed like a sensible soul. He kept carefully in pace with her, even though his post-fever weakness made it an effort, and said, "Imai Eseray has true dreams. She sees the future—often quite clearly. She dreamed of the Iopa's death in the carriage on our way back from Kalna. That was why we came here."
"You're serious?"
"Yes," said Leion. "Very much so."
Imai Cahller frowned over it. "Hmm. Well, I suppose it makes as much sense as anything else. I will have to speak to her about it, of course."
More of Attan's inhabitants had collected inside the inn while Leion had been away with the Speaker. Viyony was no longer holding the infant, but she was still pinned up against the wall by the crowd. Leion had to bite his tongue and make himself keep back, itching to go to straight to Viyony's side, but it was better to let Imai Cahller to deal with the situation. He was another stranger and he would only make things worse if he pushed his way to the front again. The rising murmurs around him were becoming increasingly hostile.
"Imai Cahller." One of the villagers closest to the door turned immediately on seeing the Speaker enter, and grasped her arm. "You need to take her to the Guardians—to the Empty shrine—somewhere away from here! She cursed Iopa—she made this happen! She as good as said so."
Viyony glared. "I said I had a dream! I didn't make anything happen. That's not even possible!"
Leion felt the mood of the people shift; mutterings immediately becoming shouts: "She dreams death—she's an ill-omen—a curse! She can't stay here!"
Yes, thank you, Viyony. Well done, Leion told her silently from across the room, doing a spot of cursing of his own under his breath. The little crowd were holding back, but only just, and probably solely because the Speaker was present.
Speaker Cahller held up a hand. She raised her voice over the hubbub: "Enough of this, everyone! Today's events have been tragic enough without this sort of nonsense. I have examined the scene, as have Grient and Ylishanse. There was nothing mystical about Iopa's unfortunate accident. And you can thank me for still calling it an accident when you consider how many times the issue of Ojiho's continued failure to repair the jetty has come before me. The best thing you can do now, if you don't have any information about the incident, is to go back to your business and let me deal with our visitors."
The villagers shifted and a few of them headed towards the door as they had been told, but they threw suspicious looks back at Viyony as they went, and the tone of the comments around the room weren't much more welcoming than before. Attan did not seem inclined to trust strangers who brought visions of doom with them.
Cahller moved forward easily through the remaining people to reach Viyony. "Imai Eseray, you and your friends had better come with me. I'll take down your accounts and then you may be back on your way before anyone here does anything I have to make sure they regret later."
Viyony moved through the group to join Cahller, and then both crossed back to the door where Leion was waiting. Viyony wouldn't meet his gaze, and she kept on the other side of Speaker Cahller as they walked, making it impossible to ask her anything.
It didn't take long for the Speaker's assistant to take down their accounts of finding the body. ("I think," Cahller had said, "we can leave out the part about these dreams of yours.") With an eye to the mood in the village, she merely took their addresses in Portcallan in case she wanted to ask any further questions or needed them to give evidence to the local Justice, and then told all three of them to leave. She didn't add, "And never come back," but Leion felt it might have been implied.
"Viyony."
She stared out of the carriage, fingers gripping the framework of the window's screen, and watched though it as the wooded countryside went past, putting a steadily increasing distance between them and Attan. "Don't. The last thing I want is pity. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and this is the second time I've had to make this journey in two days. I'd prefer it if you didn't speak to me until we reached Weyell."
"I see," said Leion. "It wasn't pity, but never mind."
Viyony stiffened. "I don't want whatever it was. Besides, you should be quiet and rest anyway. I don't think running round like that was at all good for you. You're looking even paler than usual."
"I'll see if I can snooze again between here and Weyell." Leion's mouth twitched. "You should do the same. Might put you in a better mood."
Viyony scowled out of the latticed screen of the carriage window. "Unlike some people I can't fall asleep anywhere. I have dignity."
"Which was obviously how you came to be dreaming," he agreed. He shifted about on the seat until he achieved something approaching comfort, and shut his eyes.
Despite the way the excitements of running about Attan and dragging dead bodies out of the water had exhausted his currently thin store of energy, Leion couldn't drop off this time. He sighed and shifted into a slightly better position, but it didn't help. His mind kept returning to the disturbing nightmares he'd had the previous night in the course of his fever. He might know where their origins lay, but still the memory of another world lingered, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. He had been in the Sea Watch, colluding with some shady business run by Atino Barra, maybe even with blood on his hands. He opened his eyes and sat up, trying to shake off the dream's after-effects and the oppressive sense of a storm brewing that had nothing to do with today's bright, open weather.
Viyony was huddled up against the opposite corner of the coach. She didn't look in the least relaxed and Leion was fairly certain she couldn't actually be asleep, but she evidently meant her insistence on not wanting to talk. He pulled his mouth down, then shrugged to himself and turned his gaze out of the window.
Weyell was, as the driver had told them, only half an hour down the road. They pulled into the gravelled yard of Crosspaths House, which was a much larger and busier establishment than the Starflowers at Attan. The main parlour was wider and lighter, and the handful of people inside it at this hour barely turned their heads to glance at him. Leion entered ahead of Viyony, who had stopped to get something out of the carriage, and crossed to the bar where he asked for the proprietor. This proved to be a middle-aged woman with a weather-beaten look, who emerged from the depths of the building only half a minute later. Leion gave her a polite nod and set about making his request.
With that accomplished and feeling pleased with himself, he headed back out into the yard to check on their long-suffering driver. Viyony he left to the proprietor, and trusted the woman would have better luck in dealing with her than he would right now.
"Imai Eseray, isn't it?" An older woman, dark-skinned with her hair dyed with a reddish tint, crossed the main parlour to greet her as she walked in through the Crosspaths' door. "You're upstairs, my dear. This way!"
Viyony blinked. "I'm sorry?"
The woman smiled. "Your friend arranged everything. Didn't he tell you? Dinner will be in an hour and in the meantime, I've sent Anni to open up Room Four for you. There's hot water."
Viyony opened her mouth to object, and then shut it again. The Speaker at Attan had been kind and let them clean up briefly in her little office, enabling Viyony and Leion to change some of their wet clothing, but Viyony was still damp around the corners and smelled of river water. She couldn't sleep in a carriage, not properly, and absolutely not after another of her dreams, and she was done in. It was infuriating of Leion to resort to high-handed tactics like this, but the arrangements were exactly what she needed and it would be stupid of her to turn it down.
One additional thought struck her, and although she knew it was unworthy of her, she turned. "My room is number four, did you say? What about my friend?"
"I think that one can take care of himself," said the innkeeper. She ushered Viyony towards the stairs. "Second on the left, and, like I said, Anni's waiting for you, so you can't miss it."
"You look much more human," Leion said when she found him again, sitting at a table in the corner of the main parlour. "Now let's have dinner, and then you can probably manage to thank me after and maybe even mean it."
Viyony's mouth quivered. She stood there for a moment longer, wavering over whether to laugh or throw something at him. In the end, she dropped into the seat opposite him, and laughed. "You're insufferable—and thank you. What about you?"
"Oh, don't worry. I washed, too." He waved a hand vaguely at somewhere behind her that presumably indicated a more public washroom. "After that, I lazed about outside for a while, and then came in here for a drink." He raised his cup to her.
She rolled her eyes. "I see the innkeeper had you summed up all right."
"Oh?"
"It doesn't matter," said Viyony. She lifted her head as someone stopped beside them with a tray. "Oh, is this our dinner? I'm starving."
The interlude at Weyell helped, but back in the carriage, Leion tried again to sleep without success. Weyell had been nice enough, but he could have used the proper rest he'd given Viyony. Every jolt and shake of the carriage rattled his teeth. His head ached, the horses' hooves were getting louder, he was sure he was getting bruises from the shocking state of the roads, and snatches of last night's unpleasant dreams kept returning to him—and then there was Viyony.
She seemed happier now, alternating between reading her book and peering through the screen at what must be entirely new scenery to her, although light was fading fast, and soon she would have to find some other way to occupy herself. For no reason he could name, her obliviousness to his discomfort was suddenly intensely irritating. Didn't she understand that he needed to talk? Silence wouldn't drive this other, unlikeable Leion out of his head and stop the nightmares from claiming him again.
She didn't seem to. She read on, and he scowled, unable to stop thinking about another world, where people like the Hyans, Allins and Barras could do whatever they liked—even more so than they could in this one. He scowled, and put a hand up to the side of the carriage. Stupid dream, stupid fever—stupid Viyony and her father, poisoning him. Stupid Leion, not looking where he was going yet again.
"Are you all right?" asked Viyony, suddenly glancing up. She leaning forwards. "You still look a bit feverish, you know."
Leion dashed her hand away when she reached out to him. "Don't worry. I'm fine." He folded his arms.
"Sorry," she said. "You're right—all of us Eserays are nothing but trouble."
"Trouble?" Something inside Leion finally snapped. "Viyony, did you even make sure that woman was dead before you left her there?"
Viyony pushed back against her seat, her eyes widening. "Did I what?"
"You heard me. Did you? Or did you just rely on your dreams?"
Viyony glared. "She was dead! I knew it." She pressed her hand to her stomach. "Right here. And I could see—oh, what does it matter?"
"A great deal," he said. "It doesn't matter how accurate your dreams usually are. When it's a question of life and death you make absolutely certain every time. You never rely on a dream, not even one of yours. Never!"
"How dare you sit there and be so self-righteous about it! She was dead, and I had to see it twice over. I knew both ways—in the dream, and for real! I've seen people drowned before. I'd never have left her in the water if I thought there was a chance of saving her. And you—you run around with my father, causing all this trouble - making yourself ill, probably ruining my life, all my plans—oh!" Viyony lost the thread of her sentence and threw up her hands. "You don't have the first idea!"
Leion met her fierce gaze. "No. Of course I don't. Because I don't take anything seriously, do I?"
"Is that -?" Viyony's voice ground to a halt. She screwed up her face in distaste. "You're angry with me about that? I should have known it would come down to nothing but vanity and selfishness with you! Well, think what you like. Just don't speak to me again—not today, anyway."
"Fine by me," muttered Leion. He turned his head away and shut his eyes.
The silence between them stretched on and on, magnified rather than lessened by the steady pounding of the horses' hooves on the road and the rattles and creaks of the wheels and body of the vehicle as it carried them onwards to Portcallan.
It felt like an age, although perhaps it wasn't so very much later before Leion coughed and twisted his head round to see if she still looked furious. "I'm sorry?" he tried.
Viyony wouldn't look at him. "So you should be."
"Very sorry." He straightened. "Even if you won't forgive me—here, take my jacket, if you're trying to sleep—make yourself a bit more comfortable. I'm far too awake, so you might as well. You could even lean on me, if you wanted."
She turned. The carriage was darkening fast, but he could see the smudges on her face and something glinting in her eyes that might have been tears. Her voice was thick, as she said, "Don't you think there's been enough silly gossip about us?"
"None of it started by me," said Leion. "Besides, if people are going to talk about us travelling home together, then the damage is already done. In the meantime we can do as we like. It'll make no difference."
Viyony swallowed and brushed a hand across her eyes. "Perhaps it was the dream that made me so sure that the poor woman was dead. But she was, Leion. I knew, I really did. I promise."
"Yes, of course." He leant forward, reaching for her hand, and closing both of his around it. "Besides—while I do think no one should rely on dreams completely—I agree. She was. Not only that, she struck her head before she fell in. She might have been dead before she even hit the water. I'm so sorry. I was on edge about—other things." Dreams and poison, and overheard conversations—not the best combination.
Viyony laughed. She slipped her fingers out of his hold, but gently. "Yes. I injured your pride, didn't I? Never mind my father poisoning you—never mind my wretched dreams, but Powers forfend I should tell Father you're not serious about anything! I'd apologise, but you shouldn't have been listening—and you must have known I didn't mean it. Or at least, maybe only about love."
"Oh, thank you," he said. "Don't be so—impossible!"
She pressed her head against the seat at an angle. "I'm sorry too. I was angry with Father, not you. Scared about what he might tell Imoren—I needed to make sure he forgot all that nonsense. You weren't supposed to hear any of it."
"You were outside the inn, yelling at him," said Leion. "There was no way not to hear." He sighed, relaxing back into his seat. "And, yes, it's silly, but—after what we've been through—well. Nobody likes to be a joke. It hurt, Viyony."
Viyony smiled slowly. She scrambled over to his side of the carriage and sat beside him. "Is that really why you've been so strange all afternoon?"
"That and my dreams," said Leion. He hadn't meant to tell her that, but in the darkening carriage with her suddenly so close that when the coach swayed, their arms bumped against each other, it seemed only natural. He settled back against the seat and took her hand. "I had some too, you know. When I was delirious."
Viyony turned her head against his shoulder. "What sort of dreams?" she demanded, suspiciously.
"Sadly, not the interesting kind, if that's what you're meaning. I dreamt I was living in the altered history in that book I showed you," he said. "I didn't like myself very much."
Viyony squeezed his fingers. "Yes, but, as you say—you were feverish. It was only a dream; just a normal one."
"Unlike yours. I know."
"Well, yes. You wouldn't want mine!"
Leion turned to look at her, still sat near enough to be pleasingly warm against his side. "No," he said, soberly. "I would not." He thought of the way the crowd at Attan turned against her so quickly. He began to understand for the first time, what the dreams really meant; how easily and absolutely they could divide her from everyone else. He released her hand—unwillingly, but he didn't want to do anything to risk breaking her fragile trust in him.
"Now—look out of the window," he said, lightening his tone. "Tell me what you see."
Viyony obeyed, but swiftly turned back, shaking her head at him. "It's too dark. I can't make anything out other than part of the road. Maybe sometimes the outline of the countryside against the sky, but that's it."
"Perhaps it's not currently visible, I admit," said Leion, "but on our right, were it light, you would be able to see edge of the Barraos estate. The orchards and vineyards there are second to none, they say. It's quite something if you're ever privileged enough to visit."
"Do you mean that's where the Barra family are from? Somewhere over there?"
"Yes, so we can't possibly stop and take a look. The wine is excellent, but the family are a particularly sour bunch."
"That isn't even funny," said Viyony, but she laughed, and allowed herself to lean against him, if only for a moment.
Story: Starfall
Colors: Beet Red #15 (When the going gets tough); Azul #28 (Rectitude); Warm Heart #14 (blame)
Supplies and Styles: Portrait
Word Count: 7794
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Mentions of death/drowning/dead body.
Notes: Road back from Kalna, nr. Portcallan, 1313; Viyony Eseray/Leion Valerno. (Follows on directly from Leion's trip down the coast with Viyony's father in wake me up and keep me conscious, is this really love or are you just fooling around? and Unanswerable.)
Summary: Viyony, Leion, and the long ride home from Kalna.
The carriage jolted over another rut in the road. The driver had assured them that once they joined the main route northwards to Portcallan it would get much better, but Viyony, having travelled the opposite direction on the previous evening, knew that they had quite some time to go yet before they reached that turning. She frowned at the unresponsive figure seated opposite her, slumped against the side of the seat. Leion stirred every time they hit a stone or a dip in the road, but only as far as shifting his position a little or giving a small grunt and then dropping off again.
How could he possibly sleep though this? Viyony couldn't help wondering if he was pretending—Leion had seemed in an odd mood ever since her father had left them at the inn earlier. He hadn't really recovered from his accidental poisoning yet, but she didn't think that was why he was suddenly being so short and distant with her. But still, each time the carriage lurched over something and Viyony was half shaken out of her seat, Leion slumbered on, oblivious.
Viyony sighed. She slid closer to the screened window, as far away from him as she could get in the cramped space. Her head ached. She had left Portcallan in a hurry yesterday afternoon after receiving her father's summons, and she hadn't reached Kalna till late. The innkeeper had given her a small supper and she had snatched what sleep she could in between keeping an eye on Leion in his feverish state. She'd been so on edge this morning, too, that she had eaten little of her breakfast, even though the inn's fare of round slices of seeded brown bread and fried fish was much more to her liking than Portcallan's usual overly sweet offerings. She had not really had an appetite for lunch, either.
She was regretting it. Between that and the lack of sleep, she felt hollow. If Leion had been awake she would have told him exactly what she thought of him all over again—for going off with her father, for making himself sick, and a dozen other things. Viyony grimaced. It wasn't really Leion's fault. This mess was very much an Eseray affair.
Mother might as well have set a trap for her—go to Portcallan, she'd insisted. Have an affair while you're there, she'd as good as added; know what you're doing before you tie yourself up in a loveless marriage. Now Mother and Father were pulling those two things together as an excuse to interfere in Viyony's arranged marriage, even though they knew how vital it was to Eseray's survival that she went ahead with it.
Viyony shivered, despite the warmth in the carriage. She had made Father promise that when he went to Lialia, he wouldn't say anything rash about Leion to Imoren, her betrothed, but that didn't mean he might not blurt out something by accident and wreck everything anyway. The opposite fear plagued her too—that perhaps Father and Mother really did have a way to sort everything out without her marrying Imoren. Viyony's gaze strayed back to Leion. What if she'd made Father promise not to do the one thing that might save them all from misery? Cold tendrils of doubt wound their way around her heart and into her mind. What if she didn't have to do this?
The carriage rattled with particular violence over a broken section of road, shaking that nonsensical fantasy right out of her head. Even if her parents had a way out that might work, which there was no saying it would, and even if Leion liked Viyony enough to make the risk worthwhile—and he didn't, he couldn't, Leion wasn't serious about anybody, she'd told her Father so earlier—it would still be no good. Viyony's home was at Eseray, while Leion belonged in Portcallan. She mustn't give into the tempting illusion of an easy way out that she of all people knew could not exist.
Viyony tried without much success to settle into a more comfortable position. She shot another dark glance at Leion, but he remained unmoving. Well, she told herself, he must be asleep. He would never have been quiet for this long if he wasn't. She reached for the book she had discarded earlier, lying open on the upholstered seat, but found it too much effort to focus on the words in the jolting vehicle. Leaning back, she closed her eyes.
She must have drifted into a light doze, vaguely aware of the motion and rattle of the carriage, the rhythmic sound of horses' hooves, and the roughened fabric of the seat against her cheek, but none of them were quite real, giving way to a dream of birds' wings flapping; feathers falling as they took flight, and then transmuted into flapping sails and the endless rise and fall of a sea voyage.
Abruptly, the dream clarified into a distinct scene:
Viyony stepped down from the carriage into the sunlit yard of a wayside inn. Its sign outside displayed seven painted Starflowers, a shade or two darker blue than the sky above. Viyony did not go inside. She turned away and walked down a narrow track between hedges and low walls into the woods. She could hear the rushing sound of water somewhere close by.
The path led to a river, running clear and fast through dark rocks. A few lengths further upstream, she could see a small stone bridge. Viyony walked along the bank until she reached it and crossed the river. She then headed back along the water on the other side until she came to a jetty that had been obscured from her view earlier by the trees.
Viyony carried a bunch of wild flowers in her hand that she hadn't picked, and with the sureness of a dream, cast them into the river. The water in this shallow, wider stretch beside the jetty was murky, clogged with weeds and almost still. Her handful of wilted flowers and leaves floated away so slowly time itself might have ground down to a fraction of its usual speed.
A woman stood at the far end of the jetty with a basket beside her, working at something in her hands—a net, or cloth. Viyony put up a hand to see, the sun filtering through the trees opposite blinding her
A sharp slap and splash broke the tranquillity. Viyony blinked. The woman had vanished.
Viyony turned on the spot until she could see what had happened. The woman was face down in the dirty green water beneath the jetty, tangled up in Viyony's flowers and grass; now rapidly growing into long, grasping rushes and waterweeds. Viyony caught her breath and waded forward into the water from the shore, but when she reached the woman and put a hand to her, she was already sodden and cold. The body had turned over in the water as Viyony approached. She was no longer face down, but staring upwards, eyes wide and unseeing, and the colour of her skin that had been as brown as Viyony's now owned a muddy pallor.
A baby cried, sounding everywhere at once as its scream echoed between the overarching trees on either side. It had been in the basket next to the woman, and she had knocked it into the river with her as she fell. Leafy fingers of branches cast shadows over the child and the weeds snaked out towards it while dark shapes lurked under the water.
Viyony tried to wade on, towards the child—but everything blurred back into the vagueness of ordinary dreams. She couldn't move forward, no matter how hard she tried. She could only see the woman's empty face and hear the child screaming, and -
"Viyony!"
She jerked awake. Leion slowly pulled back from her as she blinked and tried to focus. She pressed herself harder into her seat. "What are you doing?"
"You were yelling," he said. "What was it? A regular nightmare—or something else?"
Viyony straightened. Her heart pounded in her ears. She grasped Leion's hand—his warm and hers like ice. "Leion, stop the coach! Stop it this instant!"
Leion moved forward easily and knelt up on the seat beside her, to rap on the board behind the driver's seat. "Want to tell me why?" he asked as he slid back down into a sitting position next to her.
Viyony did her best.
As soon as they were stationary, Leion jumped out of the carriage, Viyony clambering down after. Both of them hurried towards the driver, who had dismounted already, and was standing there, holding the horses as he watched them approach. He was a man of around forty, wearing a hat to shade pale skin against the sun and, when he removed it to wipe his brow, another reason became apparent, as his light brown hair was growing thin on top.
"We're not far from Weyell, you know," he said. "That's where I told your father I'd set you down for a meal. Only half an hour from here, and I can change the horses. There's nowhere better, not on this road."
Leion rested a hand on the side of the coach. "Viyony dreams," he said evenly. "True dreams, not the usual sort. She sees things before they happen." He looked to Viyony.
"Do you know an inn called the Seven Starflowers?" she asked. "It must be somewhere near here."
The driver glanced from Viyony to Leion. One of the horses stamped beside him and he gave it a reassuring, practised pat. "The one at Attan, do you mean? It's about ten minutes away—but not a patch on the Crosspaths at Weyell."
"We only need to make a short stop there—just to see if we can help someone," said Leion. Again, he said it easily, as if it was the kind of thing one often did on a journey. Viyony didn't know if she was grateful for that, or if she almost wanted to hit him for it. It was never easy for her. "Hopefully we won't be long, and then we can go onto Weyell as planned. I know it sounds odd, but trust me, it's a matter of life or death. We must get to Attan as soon as possible."
The driver looked at Viyony. "Your father hired me. If you want to, then that's fine by me. Just if it takes too long, I'll have to charge extra."
"Yes, of course. Don't worry about that," said Leion. "I'll pay the difference myself if Imai Reohrsyn isn't willing. Now, please—hurry!"
Arriving at Attan after what must indeed have been around ten minutes from their previous stop, Leion alighted first again, and immediately turned back to help Viyony. She batted his hand away and leapt lightly down beside him.
"You seem better," she observed.
Leion gave a brief half-smile. "Yes. That little nap seems to have worked wonders. You go on—I'll follow as soon as I can, but I'd better make sure everything's all right here with the horses and what have you."
Viyony nodded. She knew which way to go, although it always surprised her when she found herself in one of her dreams made real. She walked down the lane with the wall and trees on one side and the hedgerow on the other. There was no time to stand and wonder at the strangeness of her familiarity with somewhere she'd never been before—she had to get to the jetty before it was too late.
The way there was as she had seen it in the dream, although there were greater distances between the marker points she'd seen—when the path met the river, the stone bridge, and finally the old jetty itself.
Viyony made it to the river, sliding down the mud at the edge. She put her hand to the boards of the jetty to steady herself, and heard a roaring cry from somewhere out of vision. The child. That part was real too.
Viyony hastily pulled off her shoes and waded into the water, silt and slippery stones proving hard to navigate. She splashed forward regardless, keeping one hand lightly against the jetty in case the river deepened abruptly under her. Tendrils and waterweeds clutched at her as she went, like live creatures wriggling around her. Perhaps some of them were. She plunged on, unable to see the squalling baby. It must be on the other side of the jetty, or at the end, where a small boat had been tethered. Viyony kept going until she reached the boat.
The water was nearly up to her chest this far out and the current's pull was stronger. She caught hold of one of the struts of the jetty. The wood was softer than it should have been against her fingers. Concentrating on trying to avoid the boat, bobbing about in front of her, she walked right into something solid—large, cold, a mass of sodden fabric—and shrieked.
Viyony choked down her panic. It was the woman she had seen in her dream—of course it was. What she was hanging onto was a leg wrapped in a thin skirt. She navigated her path around the corpse as quickly as she could—Viyony had already seen enough of the woman's lifeless face for one day. She gritted her teeth against the increasing chill in the water, and then, as she rounded the end of the jetty, the riverbed abruptly slid away from under her.
She sank below the surface, before fighting her way back up into the air. She gasped for breath and flailed about for something to hold onto, her hand finding the side of the rowing boat. She got a better grasp on it, and used it to pull herself around it until her feet hit the river's bottom again. She sagged against the little vessel, her head resting briefly on its moving side as she spat out river water, and breathed in and out with new gratitude. The baby's screaming resumed. This wasn't over yet.
Viyony raised her head. She could see the child now, in a small carry-basket, as it had been in the dream. It was tangled up in rushes and the ends of tree roots less than half a length from the bank, that must have saved it from being swept away by the current before now. Viyony cursed herself—if she had kept her head and looked properly before running straight into the water, she would have reached the poor thing already. It must have been there for some time—the basket was growing steadily wetter and heavier, and the child more distressed; its cries subsiding into tearful hiccoughs. Any moment now, the carry-basket must finally sink or tilt too far to one side, tipping its cargo into the water.
Viyony caught her breath, then put her hand to the side of the jetty and splashed back towards the riverbank and the baby as fast as she could. Halfway there, she slipped, but her hold on the jetty kept her upright.
"I'm coming," she gasped. "Hold on, little one—nearly there!"
Moments later, she reached it. She halted, knee deep in muddy, weed-tangled water, and snatched up the child, hugging it to her. She nudged the basket ahead of her with her legs, and when she made it it the last few steps to the edge, leant backwards against the nearest tree trunk, holding the infant too tightly, shaking.
Footsteps thudded heavily on the path above her, followed by a rustling even closer to hand. Viyony looked up as Leion halted a length away from her, the coach driver still padding along the road at a slower pace. Leion skidded down the mossy slope to Viyony's side.
"Is it all right?" he asked. He held back from joining her in the water, standing on a dry ledge and holding onto the nearest tree branch. "Are you?"
Viyony nodded, unable to speak.
The driver puffed to a halt on the path next to them. "What is going on? You found whatever it is?"
"What about the woman?" asked Leion, his attention still fixed on Viyony. "You said the mother, or someone, was with the child in your dream. Where is she?"
Viyony swallowed. "T-too late. Help me up—I need to get this little soul to the inn."
"But she's there? Then we have to make certain of that," said Leion. "We can't just leave her." He craned his head back up towards the driver. "Can you help Viyony up and then come and give me a hand?" He dropped down into the water, splashing Viyony as he landed.
Viyony watched him pass. "She's—she's right at the end, by the boat. I think—I think perhaps she might be caught on it or she'd have been long gone by now. I don't know. Watch out—it's bit deeper in the middle."
Leion held up a hand to acknowledge the information, but ploughed onwards regardless.
"Will you be all right with the child?" the driver asked Viyony. He had not yet left the path.
Viyony shook herself into motion again. She shifted her hold on the baby against herself, enough to allow her to use her other hand briefly to rescue the basket. She dropped it onto the muddy bank, and then crouched down to replace the baby inside it. It wailed again in renewed protest.
"Yes," she said, in delayed answer to the driver's question, with more certainty than she felt. She held the basket up for the him to take. Once he had, she retrieved her cast-off shoes and then clambered up the slope to join him.
The driver hesitated. "You sure you don't need a hand?"
"It's not that far to the inn," said Viyony. "You'd much better make sure that Leion doesn't drown himself somehow—and he'll need help to get that body out."
"Right," the driver said, without much enthusiasm for the prospect, but he didn't otherwise object to what was not even remotely part of his job. He sighed and then began a cautious downward route from the path to the bank, and then walking onto the jetty, surveying the situation before he got himself wet; a precaution neither Viyony or Leion had been sensible enough to take.
Viyony raised her chin and held the basket in nearer. "I know, I know, lovebird," she murmured to its whimpering little occupant. "Let's get you somewhere warm and dry, with people to help. Everything will be all right."
Which, if the woman who had drowned was the child's mother, was an awful lie.
Viyony straightened herself and adjusted her clinging wet trousers, and then headed back along the river path at the best pace her still-trembling legs could manage.
"It's no good," said the driver, standing over Leion and watching as he tried, patently far too late, to save the woman. Leion swallowed and slumped back into a sitting position on the bank, rubbing his damp hand across his face. He straightened up and the driver put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. Imai Valerno. You did all you could. This poor soul was long gone before we found her."
Leion nodded, rising onto his knees where the jetty met the path. He still had half a mind to try again, even though the driver was obviously right. It hadn't been this way when Viyony had had the warning dream about Delver. They had reached him in time to rescue him. What was the point in dreams about people nobody could save?
"I suppose one of us had better kept an eye on her while the other goes back to the Starflowers," said the driver. "What do you say?"
Leion drew in a breath, wiped out by his efforts. This kind of activity really wasn't the best idea after a night spent fighting a fever. He looked up, and forced himself to think properly. "Yes, you're right. First, though, I need you to act as a witness while I look at something."
"Eh?"
Leion got to his feet, using a nearby tree branch for assistance. "Please. This shouldn't take too long, and it'll hopefully save us a lot of trouble presently."
Perhaps it was what came of having a senior Guardian of the Peace and a High Justice for parents, but Leion didn't want to finish up this ill-advised trip by getting locked up for suspicious involvement in a death that he, Viyony and the driver had absolutely no good reason to know anything about.
"Just watch me, so you can testify that I didn't falsify or tamper with anything." Leion knelt down again beside the body. He could see no mark on the woman from this angle, nothing that hadn't been the result of his work in trying to revive her. He nodded to the driver, and between them they managed to turn her over, face down into the mud.
"Laon's light," he thought he heard the man mutter somewhere over his head.
Leion moved forward and examined the woman with a frown. He lifted up her hair, and spied a nasty gash at the back of her head, although with less blood than one would normally expect. That, though, would be due to the cold water—possibly, the blow might even have killed her outright. He drew back and then got to his feet, before trying somewhat ineffectually to brush dirt from his soaked trousers.
"If you could take a look at that," he said to the driver, gesturing at the wound. "I'm sorry. I just need you to be able to back me up when I tell this to whoever's in charge around here."
The driver gave a short laugh. "I'm not that squeamish, don't worry. Not what I had in mind for today, but I'm doing better than her, so I'll be thankful for that much." He crouched down awkwardly, joints grumbling, and repeated Leion's examinations. He rose with painful slowness. "Well, she didn't throw herself in. Reckon someone did this?"
"Let's hope for some indication otherwise," said Leion. "The people of Attan aren't going to thank us for this as it is. If we have to cry murder, I don't know what they'll do."
Leion walked slowly down the jetty, scanning the surface as he went. At the end, he knelt down and crawled forward, feeling his way ahead with his hands. One of the boards shot up when he pressed it. "Thank you," he murmured to whatever Powers might be listening. He lowered it back into place, and looked around him. There was a small bundle at the very end of the pier, which turned out to have flatbread wrapped up in waxed paper inside. If the woman had brought anything else with her, it was lost in the water. Leion traced his fingers along the edge of the jetty and halted with his hand close to one of the supporting poles. It had blood on it. He leant in nearer. Strands of hair too.
Leion raised his head and waved at the driver to join him. "Careful," he advised. "That board might not be the only rotten one."
"So it was an accident?" asked the driver, once Leion had shown him his findings.
Leion shrugged. "Impossible to say for certain, but we can show this to whoever needs to see it, and hopefully they'll agree it appears to be the likeliest explanation." He crossed the short distance between loose board and post again, mentally measuring up the space between them against the height of the woman. It all seemed to fit. A hitherto unnoticed tightness in his chest eased, as the vague, nightmarish visions he'd had of winding up mired in a murder enquiry and fruitlessly trying to explain Viyony's warning dreams to angry officials, faded.
The driver shook his head. "Cursed shame, though. Poor soul."
"Yes. Quite." Leion straightened. "Will you stay here and watch the body? I'll be as quick as I can."
"Yes, do. I've no wish to keep running back and forth all day."
Leion nodded. "Good. Thank you. I'll go after Viyony, make sure she's all right, and find whoever is the proper person to report this to."
Leion reached the Seven Starflowers and leant against the wall before entering, in order to recover his breath safely out of Viyony's sight. His head ached and he wouldn't have minded collapsing back into the carriage and forgetting the whole business at the river. This was probably the sort of reason why physicians tended to tell people to rest after being accidentally poisoned by over-enthusiastic researchers. As he waited, appreciating the warmth of the mellow-coloured stones against his body, the sound of raised voices filtered out from within, muted but unmistakably irate.
"Oh dear," muttered Leion. He peeled himself off the side of the building, and headed inside.
The bar seemed to be filled with people shouting at Viyony, who was backed up against the far wall, still hanging onto the baby, and standing bolt upright with her mouth set in a stubborn line. Her clothes were dripping and her hair hung damp and tangled around her face.
"Hey," said Leion, raising his voice. He waved, drawing their attention, and then pushed his way through the unfriendly gathering. "Come on, leave Imai Eseray alone! Has she told you there's been an accident down by the river?"
Viyony said, "I've been trying!"
"Anyone know whose child this is?" Leion asked as the shouts subsided in suspicious grumbling and muttering. The inn wasn't quite as crowded as it had first appeared to him. It was a small room and nine or ten people had looked like a multitude crammed in so closely around Viyony. "I'm afraid we've got bad news about whoever was taking care of them."
Two of the villagers standing close to his elbow exchanged a glance with each other; a woman and an older man.
"Not Iopa?" said the woman.
"I don't know her name." Leion turned slightly, addressing the room. "Maybe about 30, black hair, light brown skin, this sort of height?" He indicated with his hand somewhere above his shoulder. "Wearing a long green skirt and a brown jacket."
The woman drew in her breath. "Sounds like Iopa. What's happened?"
"I'll need to talk to your Speaker first," said Leion. "Or the Guardian of the Peace, if one's around—whoever's in charge here."
The innkeeper, who had entered through an inner door, told Leion that they had already sent for the Speaker. The local Guardian, he said, covered a few other villages and hamlets in the vicinity, as did their Justice, and both were currently a few hundredlengths away at Lasthill.
The Speaker for Attan, Imai Cahller, turned out to be a woman of around fifty, with fine dark hair, lightly-bronzed skin and a brisk manner. She took in the situation so swiftly once she arrived, that Leion found himself leading her and a couple of other senior members of the village back to the riverside only a few minutes later.
She listened as they walked to Leion's explanation without comment and when they reached the jetty, she studied the body, and let Leion point out his previous findings. She then spoke separately to the driver, and ordered the other two villagers to carry the dead woman away. In a tiny village like this, Leion presumed that would be to the communal building—probably the Speaker's office would be there, too.
"This does seem to have been an unfortunate accident," she observed to Leion, as they headed back to the inn again. "However, I don't understand why you and your friends were here at all. I'm glad you were, for the child's sake, but the story your driver told me sounded extremely odd to me."
Leion had not wanted to explain about Viyony's affinity in front of three strangers, but the Speaker alone was a different matter. Cahller seemed like a sensible soul. He kept carefully in pace with her, even though his post-fever weakness made it an effort, and said, "Imai Eseray has true dreams. She sees the future—often quite clearly. She dreamed of the Iopa's death in the carriage on our way back from Kalna. That was why we came here."
"You're serious?"
"Yes," said Leion. "Very much so."
Imai Cahller frowned over it. "Hmm. Well, I suppose it makes as much sense as anything else. I will have to speak to her about it, of course."
More of Attan's inhabitants had collected inside the inn while Leion had been away with the Speaker. Viyony was no longer holding the infant, but she was still pinned up against the wall by the crowd. Leion had to bite his tongue and make himself keep back, itching to go to straight to Viyony's side, but it was better to let Imai Cahller to deal with the situation. He was another stranger and he would only make things worse if he pushed his way to the front again. The rising murmurs around him were becoming increasingly hostile.
"Imai Cahller." One of the villagers closest to the door turned immediately on seeing the Speaker enter, and grasped her arm. "You need to take her to the Guardians—to the Empty shrine—somewhere away from here! She cursed Iopa—she made this happen! She as good as said so."
Viyony glared. "I said I had a dream! I didn't make anything happen. That's not even possible!"
Leion felt the mood of the people shift; mutterings immediately becoming shouts: "She dreams death—she's an ill-omen—a curse! She can't stay here!"
Yes, thank you, Viyony. Well done, Leion told her silently from across the room, doing a spot of cursing of his own under his breath. The little crowd were holding back, but only just, and probably solely because the Speaker was present.
Speaker Cahller held up a hand. She raised her voice over the hubbub: "Enough of this, everyone! Today's events have been tragic enough without this sort of nonsense. I have examined the scene, as have Grient and Ylishanse. There was nothing mystical about Iopa's unfortunate accident. And you can thank me for still calling it an accident when you consider how many times the issue of Ojiho's continued failure to repair the jetty has come before me. The best thing you can do now, if you don't have any information about the incident, is to go back to your business and let me deal with our visitors."
The villagers shifted and a few of them headed towards the door as they had been told, but they threw suspicious looks back at Viyony as they went, and the tone of the comments around the room weren't much more welcoming than before. Attan did not seem inclined to trust strangers who brought visions of doom with them.
Cahller moved forward easily through the remaining people to reach Viyony. "Imai Eseray, you and your friends had better come with me. I'll take down your accounts and then you may be back on your way before anyone here does anything I have to make sure they regret later."
Viyony moved through the group to join Cahller, and then both crossed back to the door where Leion was waiting. Viyony wouldn't meet his gaze, and she kept on the other side of Speaker Cahller as they walked, making it impossible to ask her anything.
It didn't take long for the Speaker's assistant to take down their accounts of finding the body. ("I think," Cahller had said, "we can leave out the part about these dreams of yours.") With an eye to the mood in the village, she merely took their addresses in Portcallan in case she wanted to ask any further questions or needed them to give evidence to the local Justice, and then told all three of them to leave. She didn't add, "And never come back," but Leion felt it might have been implied.
"Viyony."
She stared out of the carriage, fingers gripping the framework of the window's screen, and watched though it as the wooded countryside went past, putting a steadily increasing distance between them and Attan. "Don't. The last thing I want is pity. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and this is the second time I've had to make this journey in two days. I'd prefer it if you didn't speak to me until we reached Weyell."
"I see," said Leion. "It wasn't pity, but never mind."
Viyony stiffened. "I don't want whatever it was. Besides, you should be quiet and rest anyway. I don't think running round like that was at all good for you. You're looking even paler than usual."
"I'll see if I can snooze again between here and Weyell." Leion's mouth twitched. "You should do the same. Might put you in a better mood."
Viyony scowled out of the latticed screen of the carriage window. "Unlike some people I can't fall asleep anywhere. I have dignity."
"Which was obviously how you came to be dreaming," he agreed. He shifted about on the seat until he achieved something approaching comfort, and shut his eyes.
Despite the way the excitements of running about Attan and dragging dead bodies out of the water had exhausted his currently thin store of energy, Leion couldn't drop off this time. He sighed and shifted into a slightly better position, but it didn't help. His mind kept returning to the disturbing nightmares he'd had the previous night in the course of his fever. He might know where their origins lay, but still the memory of another world lingered, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. He had been in the Sea Watch, colluding with some shady business run by Atino Barra, maybe even with blood on his hands. He opened his eyes and sat up, trying to shake off the dream's after-effects and the oppressive sense of a storm brewing that had nothing to do with today's bright, open weather.
Viyony was huddled up against the opposite corner of the coach. She didn't look in the least relaxed and Leion was fairly certain she couldn't actually be asleep, but she evidently meant her insistence on not wanting to talk. He pulled his mouth down, then shrugged to himself and turned his gaze out of the window.
Weyell was, as the driver had told them, only half an hour down the road. They pulled into the gravelled yard of Crosspaths House, which was a much larger and busier establishment than the Starflowers at Attan. The main parlour was wider and lighter, and the handful of people inside it at this hour barely turned their heads to glance at him. Leion entered ahead of Viyony, who had stopped to get something out of the carriage, and crossed to the bar where he asked for the proprietor. This proved to be a middle-aged woman with a weather-beaten look, who emerged from the depths of the building only half a minute later. Leion gave her a polite nod and set about making his request.
With that accomplished and feeling pleased with himself, he headed back out into the yard to check on their long-suffering driver. Viyony he left to the proprietor, and trusted the woman would have better luck in dealing with her than he would right now.
"Imai Eseray, isn't it?" An older woman, dark-skinned with her hair dyed with a reddish tint, crossed the main parlour to greet her as she walked in through the Crosspaths' door. "You're upstairs, my dear. This way!"
Viyony blinked. "I'm sorry?"
The woman smiled. "Your friend arranged everything. Didn't he tell you? Dinner will be in an hour and in the meantime, I've sent Anni to open up Room Four for you. There's hot water."
Viyony opened her mouth to object, and then shut it again. The Speaker at Attan had been kind and let them clean up briefly in her little office, enabling Viyony and Leion to change some of their wet clothing, but Viyony was still damp around the corners and smelled of river water. She couldn't sleep in a carriage, not properly, and absolutely not after another of her dreams, and she was done in. It was infuriating of Leion to resort to high-handed tactics like this, but the arrangements were exactly what she needed and it would be stupid of her to turn it down.
One additional thought struck her, and although she knew it was unworthy of her, she turned. "My room is number four, did you say? What about my friend?"
"I think that one can take care of himself," said the innkeeper. She ushered Viyony towards the stairs. "Second on the left, and, like I said, Anni's waiting for you, so you can't miss it."
"You look much more human," Leion said when she found him again, sitting at a table in the corner of the main parlour. "Now let's have dinner, and then you can probably manage to thank me after and maybe even mean it."
Viyony's mouth quivered. She stood there for a moment longer, wavering over whether to laugh or throw something at him. In the end, she dropped into the seat opposite him, and laughed. "You're insufferable—and thank you. What about you?"
"Oh, don't worry. I washed, too." He waved a hand vaguely at somewhere behind her that presumably indicated a more public washroom. "After that, I lazed about outside for a while, and then came in here for a drink." He raised his cup to her.
She rolled her eyes. "I see the innkeeper had you summed up all right."
"Oh?"
"It doesn't matter," said Viyony. She lifted her head as someone stopped beside them with a tray. "Oh, is this our dinner? I'm starving."
The interlude at Weyell helped, but back in the carriage, Leion tried again to sleep without success. Weyell had been nice enough, but he could have used the proper rest he'd given Viyony. Every jolt and shake of the carriage rattled his teeth. His head ached, the horses' hooves were getting louder, he was sure he was getting bruises from the shocking state of the roads, and snatches of last night's unpleasant dreams kept returning to him—and then there was Viyony.
She seemed happier now, alternating between reading her book and peering through the screen at what must be entirely new scenery to her, although light was fading fast, and soon she would have to find some other way to occupy herself. For no reason he could name, her obliviousness to his discomfort was suddenly intensely irritating. Didn't she understand that he needed to talk? Silence wouldn't drive this other, unlikeable Leion out of his head and stop the nightmares from claiming him again.
She didn't seem to. She read on, and he scowled, unable to stop thinking about another world, where people like the Hyans, Allins and Barras could do whatever they liked—even more so than they could in this one. He scowled, and put a hand up to the side of the carriage. Stupid dream, stupid fever—stupid Viyony and her father, poisoning him. Stupid Leion, not looking where he was going yet again.
"Are you all right?" asked Viyony, suddenly glancing up. She leaning forwards. "You still look a bit feverish, you know."
Leion dashed her hand away when she reached out to him. "Don't worry. I'm fine." He folded his arms.
"Sorry," she said. "You're right—all of us Eserays are nothing but trouble."
"Trouble?" Something inside Leion finally snapped. "Viyony, did you even make sure that woman was dead before you left her there?"
Viyony pushed back against her seat, her eyes widening. "Did I what?"
"You heard me. Did you? Or did you just rely on your dreams?"
Viyony glared. "She was dead! I knew it." She pressed her hand to her stomach. "Right here. And I could see—oh, what does it matter?"
"A great deal," he said. "It doesn't matter how accurate your dreams usually are. When it's a question of life and death you make absolutely certain every time. You never rely on a dream, not even one of yours. Never!"
"How dare you sit there and be so self-righteous about it! She was dead, and I had to see it twice over. I knew both ways—in the dream, and for real! I've seen people drowned before. I'd never have left her in the water if I thought there was a chance of saving her. And you—you run around with my father, causing all this trouble - making yourself ill, probably ruining my life, all my plans—oh!" Viyony lost the thread of her sentence and threw up her hands. "You don't have the first idea!"
Leion met her fierce gaze. "No. Of course I don't. Because I don't take anything seriously, do I?"
"Is that -?" Viyony's voice ground to a halt. She screwed up her face in distaste. "You're angry with me about that? I should have known it would come down to nothing but vanity and selfishness with you! Well, think what you like. Just don't speak to me again—not today, anyway."
"Fine by me," muttered Leion. He turned his head away and shut his eyes.
The silence between them stretched on and on, magnified rather than lessened by the steady pounding of the horses' hooves on the road and the rattles and creaks of the wheels and body of the vehicle as it carried them onwards to Portcallan.
It felt like an age, although perhaps it wasn't so very much later before Leion coughed and twisted his head round to see if she still looked furious. "I'm sorry?" he tried.
Viyony wouldn't look at him. "So you should be."
"Very sorry." He straightened. "Even if you won't forgive me—here, take my jacket, if you're trying to sleep—make yourself a bit more comfortable. I'm far too awake, so you might as well. You could even lean on me, if you wanted."
She turned. The carriage was darkening fast, but he could see the smudges on her face and something glinting in her eyes that might have been tears. Her voice was thick, as she said, "Don't you think there's been enough silly gossip about us?"
"None of it started by me," said Leion. "Besides, if people are going to talk about us travelling home together, then the damage is already done. In the meantime we can do as we like. It'll make no difference."
Viyony swallowed and brushed a hand across her eyes. "Perhaps it was the dream that made me so sure that the poor woman was dead. But she was, Leion. I knew, I really did. I promise."
"Yes, of course." He leant forward, reaching for her hand, and closing both of his around it. "Besides—while I do think no one should rely on dreams completely—I agree. She was. Not only that, she struck her head before she fell in. She might have been dead before she even hit the water. I'm so sorry. I was on edge about—other things." Dreams and poison, and overheard conversations—not the best combination.
Viyony laughed. She slipped her fingers out of his hold, but gently. "Yes. I injured your pride, didn't I? Never mind my father poisoning you—never mind my wretched dreams, but Powers forfend I should tell Father you're not serious about anything! I'd apologise, but you shouldn't have been listening—and you must have known I didn't mean it. Or at least, maybe only about love."
"Oh, thank you," he said. "Don't be so—impossible!"
She pressed her head against the seat at an angle. "I'm sorry too. I was angry with Father, not you. Scared about what he might tell Imoren—I needed to make sure he forgot all that nonsense. You weren't supposed to hear any of it."
"You were outside the inn, yelling at him," said Leion. "There was no way not to hear." He sighed, relaxing back into his seat. "And, yes, it's silly, but—after what we've been through—well. Nobody likes to be a joke. It hurt, Viyony."
Viyony smiled slowly. She scrambled over to his side of the carriage and sat beside him. "Is that really why you've been so strange all afternoon?"
"That and my dreams," said Leion. He hadn't meant to tell her that, but in the darkening carriage with her suddenly so close that when the coach swayed, their arms bumped against each other, it seemed only natural. He settled back against the seat and took her hand. "I had some too, you know. When I was delirious."
Viyony turned her head against his shoulder. "What sort of dreams?" she demanded, suspiciously.
"Sadly, not the interesting kind, if that's what you're meaning. I dreamt I was living in the altered history in that book I showed you," he said. "I didn't like myself very much."
Viyony squeezed his fingers. "Yes, but, as you say—you were feverish. It was only a dream; just a normal one."
"Unlike yours. I know."
"Well, yes. You wouldn't want mine!"
Leion turned to look at her, still sat near enough to be pleasingly warm against his side. "No," he said, soberly. "I would not." He thought of the way the crowd at Attan turned against her so quickly. He began to understand for the first time, what the dreams really meant; how easily and absolutely they could divide her from everyone else. He released her hand—unwillingly, but he didn't want to do anything to risk breaking her fragile trust in him.
"Now—look out of the window," he said, lightening his tone. "Tell me what you see."
Viyony obeyed, but swiftly turned back, shaking her head at him. "It's too dark. I can't make anything out other than part of the road. Maybe sometimes the outline of the countryside against the sky, but that's it."
"Perhaps it's not currently visible, I admit," said Leion, "but on our right, were it light, you would be able to see edge of the Barraos estate. The orchards and vineyards there are second to none, they say. It's quite something if you're ever privileged enough to visit."
"Do you mean that's where the Barra family are from? Somewhere over there?"
"Yes, so we can't possibly stop and take a look. The wine is excellent, but the family are a particularly sour bunch."
"That isn't even funny," said Viyony, but she laughed, and allowed herself to lean against him, if only for a moment.
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Well, there's the baby.
His mind kept returning to the disturbing nightmares he'd had the previous night in the course of his fever. He might know where their origins lay, but still the memory of another world lingered, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. He had been in the Sea Watch, colluding with some shady business run by Atino Barra, maybe even with blood on his hands.
And that sounds completely normal.
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Well, there's the baby.
He didn't like being the one to have to drag in the body instead, really. Does the baby count if someone else rescued it? XD
And that sounds completely normal.
*shifty eyes*
Thank you for reading! <3
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Long and uncomfortable road trip, getting poisoned, having to wade into a river to rescue a baby, and then worrying about possibly getting framed for murder - I can see why he is unhappy, haha. What happened with the poisoning? I don't think I read that one.
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What happened with the poisoning? I don't think I read that one.
Viyony's father came to visit and he and Leion together are apparently not adult supervision; accidental poisoning ensued.
I sort of skipped ahead a bit for that little sequence and have only now caught up with myself again, so it was presumably before you started with
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Ahh, that's an interesting idea to do those kinds of prompts with original characters. I don't know if it would work out as well for mine, though.
What is the reason that Viyony has to marry Imoren? I figured it was some political marriage thing originally, but it sounds like from those that it is maybe to prevent something that she saw in a dream from happening?
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Yes, it depends a lot, doesn't it? If you ever felt like trying it, though, there's no penalty for failing to write anything - and it does give you Pastels for here, which is nice.
What is the reason that Viyony has to marry Imoren? I figured it was some political marriage thing originally, but it sounds like from those that it is maybe to prevent something that she saw in a dream from happening?
Yes, the Eseray family business is in serious financial trouble & Viyony dreamed of what its ending would cost the local area, and this is the only way she's worked out how to stop that. It's a business transaction, as Leion keeps on pointing out.
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