CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Three days later the inhabitants of Baron-Kelt saw a very large number of Varen troops approach the city, a very much stronger concentration than left it to seek the Mythlin and bring him home. No one was troubled. Indeed, it would be a relief to know the Mythlin was safe. Only the candemaran, hearing the news, shrank back in their quarters, their faces white and fearful and their young bodies trembling with anxiety and trepidation. When the Mythlin was gone for visits, on his return he was difficult. The younger Varen, however, were delighted as they knew their hunts would begin again in earnest especially as some of the candemaran had lost their appeal.
It came, therefore, as a severe shock for the Varen to learn their Mythlin was dead and had been brought home for a ceremonial burial. Ripples of disbelief crossed the city as people flocked to the streets to see the Mythlin brought home. The city Varen who accompanied him had clearly brought other Varen to pay homage, so they were accepted as guests and escorted to quarters that Maine demanded be set up for them. They remained relatively secluded while the city elite Varen set about the burial of the Mythlin and began to organise themselves into their old, unused orders, something not seen in the city for syns.
For the first time, Varen rank began to be apparent. Maine and the elite spoke long with other senior city Varen who listened astonished then were left thoughtful and seriously perturbed as they went away to consider options they’d have thought inconceivable only weeks before. They were troubled because they knew their purpose was to serve the Red Councils. But the more they heard from Maine about those who accompanied him and their experiences of Cynases and Red Councils, the more they began to have doubts. The news that writhlings had been inserted in Varen across many city-states revolted and alarmed them. Once, writhlings were only rarely used. Now, to their concerned ears, it seemed their use by the Red Councils and the Cynases was commonplace.
Maine asked Knellen and Lisle to speak with all senior city Varen. They did. Two days later the senior Varen made a momentous decision, some reluctantly and all with misgivings, but they carried it through. Oaths were spoken. Knellen now had his basis of a formidable Varen army. He wisely left Maine and his senior Varen to run the city, but as the days passed he was increasingly deferred to by all but the younger Varen who eyed him suspiciously.
When the troop who’d accompanied the Mythlin on his hunt recognised Knellen and Lisle there was an immediate rebellion. Maine, his seniors and Lisle quashed it with considerable ruthlessness. The perpetrators were put through various levels of Varen disciplines until, pleading for relief, they submitted to Knellen and took an oath. Others, coerced to respond, some protesting, were literally dragged to where Knellen and Maine awaited them. After Knellen administered a dose of discipline to one of their number selected at random, he flayed the others with words that left them shaking, the session finishing with cold words.
“You have all flouted the very concept of what a Varen represents. You have shown disrespect and disobedience. You will now, one by one, take the oath of full obedience and allegiance to me. This will, as you know and whether you want it or not, activate your genetic conditioning of total obedience to the one to whom you make the oath.”
Knellen’s scathing gaze swept across a hall full of trembling young Varen, some as young as fifteen syns. He terrified them. His eyes, alone, were profoundly frightening and they recognised he had a formidable authority they could not ignore.
“Submit yourselves, all of you.” Heads bowed. There was silence and no one moved. Knellen gestured at Maine and his elite. “Rank them.”
The young were marshalled into order. On Maine’s nod, each Varen approached Knellen, knelt, and stammered out an oath he’d almost forgotten he was taught. It took a long time. When it was over Knellen nodded at Maine.
“Do they have dormitory quarters according to rank?”
“Yes, but they don’t use them.”
“They will now.”
“Of course.”
Maine couldn’t help a smile, his teeth baring when he saw the expressions on younger faces.
“Then, Maine, they are yours and your seniors to get into some sort of order. I don’t envy you. Make them at least help about the city if they can’t respond to proper Varen training. Some are somewhat pitiful specimens.”
Maine’s smile broadened. He signalled to his seniors and watched as the young Varen, very subdued, were removed in groups. Seniors accompanied them. Then Maine joined Knellen.
“We need to relax a little, brother. Won’t you join me? Life will get far more interesting in the next day or so when all the travellers arrive.”
“Indeed,” smiled Knellen, stretching.
Before other travellers arrived Knellen gathered the city elite and senior Varen, even those who travelled with him, to discuss the candemaran. The Varen were surprised. When it was disclosed that Knellen proposed to halt the forced sterilisation of candemaran there was an outraged outcry, the uproar and indignant chorus swelling until Maine and a Varen colleague, Whist, finally managed to restore some order. The grumbling and infuriated rumbles took longer to subside. Knellen waited with unabated patience, then spoke placidly and with an eyebrow raised at the furore.
“I do not intend to deprive the Varen of ancient pleasures,” he began mildly. “All I am saying is that forced sterilisations are unnecessarily brutal and barbaric.” This comment hardly mollified the assembled Varen.
“It’s been our right for aeons, Knellen,” growled an older Varen, scowling heavily.
Knellen nodded affably.
“Of course, Grift, nor do I deny that.” Knellen raised a hand. “Let me speak.” Mutterings eased. “Candemaran brothels stay, nor will they be interfered with. You may enjoy them as you have always done but candemaran will no longer be subjected to torture. Travelling with me are those who can offer an alternative for candamarans which will ensure they remain sterile for as long as required. I believe that was the reason for the origin of sterilisation. It’s simply unnecessary. Sterility can be achieved quite painlessly. The harems, and those who guard them, can ensure sterility is maintained if a candemaran is still there for any length of time. I doubt she would be.”
“And after use?”
“They are usually very worn. Some sicken. Many appear to give up entirely and die. Those who survive will be released if that is their wish, or,” and here Knellen paused and eyed the Varen speculatively, “some of you may choose to keep them.”
“None have ever done so!” gasped a senior Varen.
“Have you never wished to?” countered Knellen, tilting his head in enquiry.
There was a truly startled silence as Varen grappled with yet another unheard of concept that turned Varen beliefs on their heads. They stared at Knellen.
“Would they be able to conceive?”
“That is your choice,” said Knellen very gently indeed. “In the harems they will remain sterile. Or you may choose to keep a candemaran with you for longer but sterile in the same way.”
“And if she conceives?” demanded another elite Varen, flexing his arm muscles.
“Then,” continued Knellen softly, “she must have done so with Varen consent and knowledge. It could not be otherwise. Candemaran do not have that choice, brother.”
“She would have to be destroyed, brother,” warned Whist.
Knellen slowly shook his head.
“Not so.” His voice was very quiet. “It would be a Varen’s responsibility she became so, brother, not hers. Candemaran will no longer be punished for their innocence and obedience to Varen masters.”
“The offspring?” came a horrified comment.
“I suggest you avoid them,” came the icy retort. “If there are any such unfortunates they will be kept here to be born and raised. There will be no forced miscarrying.”
“Half-Varen? Are you mad?” uttered a stunned senior.
“Unusual,” agreed Knellen maddeningly calm. “They would, of course, ha
ve to be assessed for their future roles within Varen society but I do not anticipate that would be difficult as they should be very few in number. Bearing that in mind, I suggest you are careful and discriminating in your use, brothers, and enjoy only through the harems. That would be wisest and would also avoid consequences you see so clearly.”
“The hunts?”
“That will be at elite discretion. You will find there will be changes in the way they occur.” There was silence while that was digested.
“Are you also suggesting, Knellen, that half-Varen will no longer be seen as abominations?” asked Maine quietly, his eyes searching Knellen’s face.
“That is so, Maine. You have already met a so-called abomination.” Knellen’s level gaze swept those gathered. “And that half-Varen is my sygnet, one you’ll meet very soon.”
The silence was complete, some staring open-mouthed at Knellen and the others speechless with shock. He realised Maine and his seniors had not yet spoken of Cadran, so he decided to defer that particular revelation until other changes were considered and reluctantly accepted. He thought speaking of his daughters conceived with warrior women was inappropriate.
Knellen strode below ground level to where he knew candemaran were prepared for their future with the Varen, not something he wished to do but was necessary. His lips were tight and his expression extremely forbidding.
He walked into a room that was barren other than for rows of beds set evenly apart with machines attached to them halfway down the beds. A bright light was immediately above each machine. Knellen realised candemaran already lay prepared for procedure, naked from the waist down, their lower bodies strapped into position and upper bodies encased in restraints. Their mouths were muffled to suppress any noise. Beside each bed was a full beaker which Knellen knew was the final stage, a ritual purging that ensured the procedure was thorough and irreversible. He saw that the girls were young, some only children.
He went to speak but not quickly enough to catch the eye of the Varen at the end of the room who flicked a switch, a red light came on and Knellen saw instruments slowly descend from the machines. Without a flicker of emotion, only a flaring of his nostrils, Knellen watched the automated instruments do their brutal work. Over the next minutes he saw young bodies writhe and strain, at least twenty of them.
Knellen watched other Varen stride from bed to bed to remove restraints and straps, then remove the mufflers so the girls’ heads could be tilted. They were made to drink until beakers were empty then discarded. Each girl was then laid on her stomach and spread-eagled so the Varen could duly watch to ensure full procedure was complete. Knellen waited. After ten minutes the girls were taken, one by one, to cubicles where they were thoroughly cleansed. Then they were taken to another room. Not one child did more than sob quietly. They’d already learned candemaran didn’t speak. They were silent at all times around Varen.
Knellen waited until all the girls were in the recovery room. He watched them while the supervising Varen watched them too as they lay quite still, too shocked and deeply hurt to do anything. Knellen observed them silently. Then he turned to one of the Varen.
“How long will they be in recovery?”
“They’ll be collected for the harem in an hour. By then the next lot will be in here.”
“How long before they are available in the harem?”
“They are given two days,” was the brutal reply.
Knellen thought of the violent and cruel procedure he’d just witnessed and said curtly,
“Where in the harem do they go?”
“To the waiting chambers.”
“Orders are to be given that these candemaran will be unavailable until further notice. There will be no further procedures until you receive the command. Is that understood?” The Varen gaped at him, then nodded. “You have other candemaran here?”
“Yes,” came the obliging answer. “We try to do three shifts a day.”
“Of twenty candemaran each time?”
“No,” explained another Varen. “This was a bigger group than usual because we knew the Mythlin would return and want plenty of them, so this group is to ensure continuous supply.”
“I see. Take me to the others.”
Knellen found himself with six girls, partially prepared. He looked down at them as they stared, terrified, up at him. His voice was deep and cold.
“Release them and return them to the harem.”
Mystified, one Varen did so, the girls shepherded from the room. It left five Varen looking to Knellen for further orders.
“Is this all you do?”
“No.”
“You have other duties?”
They nodded, so Knellen nodded dismissal back. After they left he went back to the sterilisation room where he deliberately unplugged each machine and removed and broke each implement. Finally, he vandalised the main switch. It became inoperative.
Baron-Kelt was one of two cities which had, over aeons, grown into one sprawling complex. It was walled but not heavily fortified. There was no need. It was used in early days by the Red Council before they grew in number and spread across Shalah. From Varen inception brought about by the Red Council, Baron-Kelt was simply the place of origin of this guardian race of the Council and Cynases. Varen Mythlins had, from the beginning, been bred for a quite specific function and this was where it started. The Mythlins oversaw the creation, selection and growth of the Varen who were now spread across Shalah.
Brood chambers were still there at Baron-Kelt. The Red Council had experimented before they found the formula they most wanted. They very soon discovered a method of reproduction that was satisfactory and they established brood chambers of Varen queens who could produce eggs easily, efficiently and at considerable speed. Reproduction could be accelerated if necessary. Their eggs were immediately harvested and the process restarted. It was continuous, day and night, for syns. The harvested eggs were in huge incubators.
As they were combined with male seed their growth was carefully scrutinised, then the process of selection was begun and always overseen by the Mythlin who made final decisions. Those selected were removed to be incubated in even larger brood chambers to become the elite guard Varen. Others were harvested to be soldier Varen, others made worker Varen. There were no such things as drones. Every Varen had a specified function that was immutable. He was genetically engineered to be that way. Many weren’t harvested at all and were disposed of in machines that pulped them. Selection was rigidly monitored and, yet again, underwent further depletion as growth continued. Flaws were checked for.
Over aeons, Varen selection and growth became sophisticated and strictly controlled as maturing and matured Varen were sent to all the Red Councils and Cynases. They became fully trained and obedient to their calling. Sometimes, as happened over more recent syns, a male Varen was taken to a queen cell to select an egg and, with fertilisation, he had offspring. Knellen and others of his age were examples of this. It only happened if a queen was resident in a city-state other than at Baron-Kelt. When this practice was discovered it was immediately stopped and no individual Varen male approached a queen to choose an egg. It was, once again, forbidden.
Female Varen, long ago, were bred solely to produce, through artificial stimulation, multiple eggs that remained sterile until fused with male seed. In effect, they were merely repositories for mass manufacture. Since they were hugely productive they were gradually reduced in number. Now there were no queens. All had been harvested of their eggs some time since that were held in vaults in Baron/Kelt ready for use. Male seed was also secreted there. When it was felt more Varen were required, eggs and seed were selected and enclosed in a chamber where, again artificially stimulated, they fused and began to grow.
The usual selection and harvesting followed, with chosen young Varen incubated. When they were old enough they were transferred to nurseries. At this point in Varen development the young were sent to whichever city-st
ate required them. Control of numbers was inflexible. There was never an over-supply such as Knellen now found at Baron/Kelt where Mythlin control had failed so lamentably.
In city-states the young were committed permanently to dormitories and schools. If they were to be a senior or elite Varen they were trained from a very young age to qualify for their Varen rank. This was overseen by the Red Councils. At age thirteen syns they were split among senior groups who took them through the stages to take the oaths. By fifteen syns the oaths were complete and the young Varen entered their designated service to a Cynas and his Red Council, their obedience and compliance expected and unquestioning.
It was only with the latest syns that some Varen, seniors and elites, began, disconcertingly, to think beyond their conditioning and to privately question. They should not have done so, nor should Knellen. Those at Baron-Kelt had become increasingly uneasy about the Mythlin. So had others. It explained the reluctance of some Varen to seek out the Mythlin and instead look elsewhere for refuge from the horror of writhlings.
Candemaran were set up purely as a physical outlet for vigorous and virile Varen. They were large men of magnificent physique but their purity as a species was integral to their function and was inviolate. It was an unwritten law that Varen did not reproduce themselves in what was considered to be a crude manner. It was purely by selection, seeding and harvesting. Nothing else was tolerated. So, if any girl or woman was unlucky enough, like Marilion, to conceive either because ritual sterilisation failed or, even worse not done properly, the offspring was, the Varen were taught, an abomination. Both it and mother had to be immediately destroyed. It was a rare occurrence.
For the Mythlin to have transgressed in this way was, for the Varen, unspeakable and the vilest form of corruption. If a virgin was chosen, and only the Mythlin was ever entitled to select one, after she was used she was, without exception, instantly ritually and thoroughly sterilised, often twice. Any conception was therefore impossible. The candemaran rarely survived such treatment. Marilion’s escape was miraculous but also, for the Varen, shocking and unacceptable. It made the reaction to the news about Cadran understandable and also made Knellen’s compassion for Marilion’s plight quite extraordinary.
The Varen were hard to distinguish one from the other. There was only occasional variation in bulk of physique or expression. Genetically they were almost clones. They were extremely efficient as guards and predatory hunters which was why they were indispensable to the Red Councils and corrupt Cynases. It was also why the Varen of Baron-Kelt were oddly diffident about the imminent arrival of Cadran and would avert their eyes from him, certainly until they saw how Knellen’s and Lisle’s Varen treated him as simply one of them. It would only be then they’d feel more comfortable about him.
The travellers arrived three days later, Cadran with them. They arrived at the gates of Baron-Kelt in the early morning to be greeted by Knellen who stood inside the open gate awaiting them in welcome. The Doms, Quon grumbling to himself, dismounted and stretched, then ambled across to Knellen, smiling in greeting. Jepaul had Cadran beside him.
“Knellen, don’t tell me there’ll be a soft bed under me with soft pillows?” teased Quon, taking the Varen’s hands.
“We’ll find something for you to doss down on,” Knellen retorted with a half-smile. “It’s good to have you all with us again, Dom.”
He turned to greet the others. The long treks across Shalah had come to an end.
Weary travellers were able to settle in Baron-Kelt. It would hopefully be time enough to properly organise the mass of assorted people who made up the train that slowly entered the city. It was clear that the quartering of so many was going to be difficult even though Baron-Kelt wasn’t overly populated and was more than large enough to accommodate such numbers. The city had a large supply of Varen who supervised city inhabitants and emtori, amenities were excellent, but settling the increasing numbers of disparate people who continued to arrive daily was going to be a headache. The Doms were relieved the Varen were as efficient as they were.
Where there were empty nurseries, dormitories and schools, children were placed in them promptly where they were overseen by startled city Varen. The Grohols occupied one part of the city and immediately set about defensive earthworks. Knellen’s and Lisle’s Varen, plus the many others who had escaped from their city-states, shared existing city Varen facilities. They were accepted with some raised eyebrows but no comment. As Varen they were equals in standing and, like the Baron/Kelt Varen, owed loyalty and obedience to Knellen. The traditional Varen structure had been altered very suddenly and in dramatic fashion. The Doms were impressed.
Cadran became a familiar figure. The city Varen stopped watching him after they noticed he was simply one of them who obeyed orders, knew his rank and was both friendly and likeable. It was seen he was directly under Lisle’s authority so that wasn’t questioned either, especially as it was now known he was also, unbelievably, sygnet to Knellen. From the Varen point of view, these things made the young man untouchable. It was also rumoured that senior and elite Baron/Kelt Varen had made unwavering allegiance to him just prior to the Mythlin’s death.
When that was finally verified, the disclosure so shook many Varen the only way they could deal with such a revelation was by acceptance and traditional habits of obedience and respect. The thought of an heir apparent to a Mythlin was so unreal a concept and so alien to their genetic conditioning few Varen found they had the ability or desire to question it. Again, their engineering over-rode everything else and they simply acquiesced as their seniors did and carried on as usual.
Cadran wasn’t the Mythlin, nor would he be. He wasn’t chosen. And that seemed of much less importance to city Varen than the almost constant news reaching them at Baron-Kelt of the abuse of their own. Tales reached them, from arriving Varen, of forced insertion of writhlings. Tales also told of Varen, through the manipulation of the writhlings by Red Councils, who behaved with violence and often barbarically cruel ways towards citizens and emtori alike. It was abhorrent. Usually, as predatory hunters of prey, they lacked emotion but the escaping Varen spoke of Varen atrocities. This was new and alarming. It was disquieting and made the city Varen, in particular, deeply troubled.
Escaping Varen came singly, in small numbers, then increasingly in troops. They were of all levels of Varen. It was noticed that not one Varen was allowed entry to the city until he made a witnessed oath to Knellen. While some may have wondered at this insistence on Knellen’s part, the Doms and other Companions knew precisely what Knellen was about and silently applauded his farsightedness and shrewdness. They knew, as Knellen did, that it was only with taking the oath he’d specifically chosen that all previous oaths uttered by the Varen would be superseded. It thus completely broke the bond of unquestioning allegiance and obedience a Varen had with his Cynas or Red Council.
The Doms and Companions were quartered with Knellen. A woman warrior such as Belika was a startling concept for city Varen to understand, as was the way the travelling Varen deferred to her with considerable respect. That was novel. What made their eyes open even wider was the arrival of the Maenades. They were fully armed, large, well-formed women built on Junoesque lines, who looked formidable. City Varen blinked. The women chose to be quartered with the Grohols and they made it clear that the mimoses, eying the inhabitants with enormous interest, were their responsibility.
Belika sent a warning through Lisle that any citizen, Varen or emtori, who was silly enough to approach them were unlikely to come out unscathed. She guessed, as did the other warrior women, that some people would be stupid enough to ignore the warning and would be ritually shredded. It was inevitable. What made all in Baron-Kelt stare incredulously was to see these women, the day after their arrival, walk about the city bare-breasted, unconcerned and ignoring males they considered inferior.
Knellen was amused to notice that any Varen who caught a warrior woman’s eye was almost immediately under
a spell, his seduction inevitable as he succumbed. Knellen suspected, as did Doms and Companions, that the evolution of the Varen as a race through interbreeding was inevitable. They also observed that Varen began to show a decided preference for the warrior women and the harems were less frequented, a circumstance they found heartening.
And the numbers arriving at Baron-Kelt kept increasing. Organisation and training of so many became imperative and a priority. Senior and elite Varen found themselves extremely busy. Conflict was openly spoken about, in lowered voices to begin with, but increasingly by those coming and those already in Baron-Kelt. For many that was inconceivable; for some, inevitable. For the Varen it was well-nigh unthinkable. Varen had never opposed Varen.
And the other thing that puzzled the Baron/Kelt Varen was the Doms, old men to whom Knellen and others deferred, because the Varen couldn’t see anything about them that made them at all special or warranted particular attention. Who they did notice with interest was the youngest Dom with them, a man of great height, auburn curls never confined and strange amber eyes that saw everything and gave nothing away. The face was calmly inscrutable like the other Doms. The man spoke little, but all noticed that when he did say anything, or the Doms for that matter, everyone listened. And Cadran had a deep bond with him too. The city Varen also closely observed those they heard called the Companions. They too were a disparate group. It was intriguing.