Name: The Soldier’s Betrayal
Story: Starfall
Colors: Tourmaline #6 (day/night); White Opal #12 (moonlight sonata)
Supplies and Styles: Canvas + Life Drawing
Word Count: 2294
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: 1313, North Eastern District, Road west towards Copperfort; Viyony Eseray, Eollan Barra, Ranir Maraseny, Imai Lullers, & Marran Delver. (Introducing the 24-years-earlier Portcallan plot and main character, mostly for fun and worldbuilding while I try to line up all the relevant characters and plot points in the current day/main plot pieces. A familiar face is involved.)
Summary: On the road to Portcallan, Viyony meets three soldiers. She will meet each of them again before this tale is told.

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(Fifth day of the month of the Stormbird, First Aliah.)

The Eseray carriage had been constructed about two or three generations ago, and it rattled and creaked over every uneven stretch of road until Viyony wondered if they might not even reach the end of their first day’s journey. When it finally stopped at Imerhalt, Viyony leapt lightly down onto the ground and breathed out in relief. There were better hired vehicles and public coaches, but Grandmother wouldn’t hear of using anything else. If the heir to Eseray must travel so far away from home, then she would do so in the family carriage.

Grandmother’s pride might be seen as laughable, considering the reasons that had brought Viyony to this particularly desperate measure, but even aside from the courage it would take to laugh at Grandmother, Viyony had no wish to hurt her.

Viyony waited beside the carriage in the inn’s yard, while the coach’s driver went to help Imai Lullers out. Imai Lullers was accompanying Viyony all the way to the capital, due to another of Grandmother’s firmly held opinions about how her eldest grandchild should travel. Viyony turned her head as Imai Lullers poked her head out before even thinking about fully emerging, and stifled a sigh. It was a much harder journey on the older woman, but Imai Lullers shared Grandmother’s feelings on not loitering about in any of the towns they passed through and keeping apart from any fellow travellers. Nothing must happen to Viyony, after all. She was not only the heir; she was going to restore their fortune.

When she reached Portcallan, she would see all the sights and meet plenty of new people, Viyony reminded herself, while the driver continued to help Imai Lullers slowly and painfully down from the vehicle. It was going to be a long few days until then.

Watching the scene, Viyony failed to take notice of a sudden bustle behind her, until someone yelled. She began to turn, but at the same moment, somebody careered into her, knocking her off balance. She flailed about, trying to catch at something to steady herself – and grabbed the arm of the nearest person. She blinked, and looked upward from the dark blue military jacket’s sleeve she was hanging onto, its cuff edged with silver, to its wearer. He gave her a quick smile and put a hand to her shoulder with his free arm, then hauled her back into a standing position.

“Don’t worry, Imai, you’re still in one piece,” he told her.

Viyony recovered her breath, and smiled at the young officer in return. “Thank you!” She glanced the other way to see who had knocked her down. Another young man in the same dark blue uniform, but younger and with no officer’s edging, was hastily picking himself up off the uneven paving of the yard. He’d lost his cap, revealing a wild thatch of straw-blond hair and a pale but dirt-streaked face and was trying with little success to brush the gravel and dust from his hands and uniform.

“I’m so sorry,” the soldier gasped out, catching her look. The he dropped back onto his knees suddenly, and bobbed back up, holding up his hat in triumph. “Ha! There you are!”

“Soldier Delver,” said Viyony’s rescuer from behind her. “Back in line – now!”

Delver stood to attention and gave a formal nod to his superior before walking, half backwards, to rejoin the rest of the soldiers. There were laughter and shouts from some as he passed them.

“My apologies,” said the officer to Viyony, turning slightly, as if to shield her from the attention of the others. He grinned, and held out his hand. “I’m Captain Maraseny. Allow me to apologise for the clumsiness of that young idiot. I’ll see to it that he watches where he’s going in future.” He was dark-haired as the other was fair, with skin only a shade lighter than Viyony’s own.

Viyony shook her head. “I’m sure there’s no need. You were very prompt in saving me – even my pride isn’t too badly damaged. Are you staying here, too?”

“Most of us are camped over in the field behind,” he told her, “but a few of us officers have been lucky enough to be allowed to make our quarters here for the night, so, yes, I am.”

“What is the fuss about, Maraseny?” Another tall figure in the same Rosfallen blue marched over to join them. “Not any trouble, I hope?”

“No, Colonel.”

Viyony intervened. “A silly accident, Colonel. Your Captain was very helpful and I’m not at all hurt.”

The Colonel turned towards her, and she saw, as he cast his gaze over her, that his eye lighted on the carriage behind her, holding there for a moment before he nodded to her in greeting. “Colonel Barra, Imai Eseray.”

“How did you know?”

He glanced over at the device painted on the side of her carriage; the leaves and dark berries intertwined on a square. “I’ve been stationed in North Eastern a while, Imai Eseray.” Then he laughed and winked. “I wasn’t certain, mind!” He was light-skinned, with a fringe of fine mid-brown hair brushed sideways showing under his hat.

“Excuse me,” said Captain Maraseny. “I’d better join the rest. Colonel –?”

Colonel Barra watched the rapidly departing file of soldiers, and with one quick formal nod to Viyony, joined his junior officer in catching up with them.

“Oh, dear,” sighed Imai Lullers, having made it across to Viyony’s side during the fuss. “I do hope they’re not also travelling to Portcallan. I don’t think your grandmother would be pleased.”

Viyony laughed. Grandmother would not, indeed. “There’s no need to worry, Imai Lullers. Even if they are, you know why I’m going to Portcallan. I’m hardly going to run away with a soldier.”

“Yes,” said Imai Lullers, “but the inn, dear. There will be language – and no doubt drinking – and so on.”

Viyony suspected that there would be language and drinking and so on at the inn with or without any soldiers, but she put her hand on the older woman’s arm gently and only said, “The Captain said most of them were camping outside the town, and Grandmother has arranged private rooms for us. You mustn’t worry.”


Imai Lullers retired to bed at an early hour, exhausted already by the first day of travel. Viyony remained in the tiny sitting room, writing in her notebook. She jotted down the inn’s charges, so that they could be compared with what she and Grandmother had arranged beforehand, and then noted idly that they had passed close enough to see the Great Falls where the River Mira passed into the East Ravine, and that one of the Rosfallen regiments was also travelling south, but after that, she put down the pen.

A further thought struck her and she recovered the pen before it rolled off the table and added, in blotchy ink: No dreams.

She leant her cheek on her hand with a sigh, and wondered what else to do. She had read quite enough in the carriage, if only light, for her books on botany and trade and more serious matters were in the trunk that had been sent ahead to the capital.

Music stole into the room. She lifted her head, listening, for some moments, until she had to stand. She hurried over to pull open the narrow window, and poked her head outside. It was still early in the year, and she had thought the sitting room chilly enough, but the company in the inn below were ignoring the weather and spilling out into the garden regardless. Over the noise of talking, laughter and the clink of drinking vessels, someone was singing with a true and trained voice that made Viyony cross back to close her notebook. Then, with a glance at the inner door, checking that Imai Lullers was quiet enough to most likely be asleep, she slipped out of the room.

Viyony crept down the back stairs and out the side door, where there was a narrow passage to the back garden. The field where the soldiers were camped was at the end of it, separated by a line of trees and bushes. Viyony could see the smoke from their fires rising into the air.

The moon was shining hazily through a veil of mist and the damp air clung to Viyony’s face and hair, and she had to hold up her skirt to avoid the hem getting wet on the grass. She didn’t join the people there; she hung back amongst the shrubs, mindful of promises she’d made to Grandmother. Pulling her jacket in close around her, she shut her eyes, the better to listen as the singer began another song. Their choice made her open them again, as she caught the familiar phrases: I brought him a deep green ollie-flower, And he gave me a kiss from a soldier.

It was only the soldiers’ presence, she told herself firmly. It was a natural tune to use in such company. It would be absurd to take it as a bad omen – at the very worst, perhaps someone else had, like Colonel Barra, recognised the Eseray carriage and asked for it, but that would only be spite, not prophecy. Viyony moved forward instinctively nevertheless – and collided with someone else hiding close by.

She squealed and pressed her hand against her mouth, stumbling back into the bushes.

“Shh,” said the other lurker urgently; his voice young and familiar. “Please – and I really am sorry – again! I’m not doing it on purpose.”

It was the soldier who’d cannoned into her earlier – Delver. Viyony’s shoulders lowered, fear fading. She looked over the crowd in the garden and bar, and couldn’t see more than one or two other figures in the distinctive blue uniforms in amongst all the civilians. She frowned. “Should you be here?”

“No, not really,” he said. “But there was music. I had to.” He edged forward. “That singer’s marvellous, I think.” He hummed along with the tune. “Oh. Yes. Isn’t that the Heyal Song?”

Viyony sighed. “Yes, it is.” She studied Delver, the leaves casting shadow-shapes onto his face, although his hair gleamed bronze for brief moments when he moved in and out of the lamplight. “Earlier – they pushed you, didn’t they? Some of the others. They were laughing about it. I heard them.”

“Very skilled fiddler, too,” he said, sturdily ignoring the question. Then he turned his head and gave her a lopsided smile. “I’m very clumsy. That’s all.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

He grimaced. “I’m also annoying.”

“Are you?”

“Oh, yes,” he said. “Everyone keeps telling me so, and they can’t all be wrong. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“What did you do?”

He stared ahead for a long moment before answering. “Well. That’s a bit of a long story – but I did steal a farm, I suppose.”

“A farm?”

“I didn’t think of it like that until after,” he said, leaning in towards her. “I was only trying to grow sunplants.”

“Sunplants?” she said. “All by yourself?”

“Yes,” he said. He broke into laughter, and tried to choke it down in case he should be heard. “Anyway, the thing is, Imai, it’s very kind of you, but it’s all my own fault – and I can stand the, er, falling over all right.” He stopped and raised his head, freezing in position. “Wait. Someone’s coming!” With a brief rustle of leaves and crunch of twigs and gravel, he vanished into the dark.

“You there!” yelled the Colonel, heading out of the throng towards them. He pulled himself up short to find Viyony walking over to meet him. “Forgive me, Imai Eseray. I thought I saw one of my people.” He gave her a sudden, sharp look.

Viyony laughed, guessing what must have crossed his mind. “Oh, I’m not conducting illicit meetings with anyone. My companion went to bed nearly an hour ago and I wanted to listen to the music. I thought I’d better not come in – I promised to keep out of any sort of company on the road.”

“Ah,” he said. “I see.” He put his hands behind his back. “Do I count as company?”

“Imai Lullers would certainly say so. My grandmother would too, and I mustn’t betray her trust.”

He nodded. “Fair. But one moment – I believe you’re going to stay with Imai Gerro’s family?”

Viyony straightened sharply. Spotting the emblem on the coach was one thing, but this was entirely another. “How in the wild empty world did you know –?”

“Your coachman was complaining to one of the grooms earlier when I was checking on our horses in the stables.” Colonel Barra grinned. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to alarm you, but I’m acquainted with the family – and unlike the rest of my rabble, I’m on my way home to Portcallan, rather than onwards elsewhere. Once I escort them there, I’m done – commanding officers and all Powers willing, of course. So, we’ll run into each other again.”

Viyony nodded. “I see. I’ll look out for you, then.”

“And are you travelling to Portcallan for business, pleasure, or merely a desperate need to get away from this benighted backwater?”

“It’s not benighted!”

“My apologies. I trust you’ll enjoy Portcallan anyway.”

“I’m sure I shall,” said Viyony, “but it’s business that takes me there, not pleasure. Please – excuse me.”

She walked away without looking back. She’d stayed out too long, grown damp and chilled, and between that, the Heyal song and the Colonel’s inadvertent reminder of her purpose, nothing could easily warm her again.

Viyony was not travelling to Portcallan for pleasure, no matter what her mother said. She was going to be married and in that, she knew already, lay only sadness.

But she was going to save Eseray.