Jepaul

by Katy Winter

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The travellers resumed their course, whatever it was, thought Lisle. He asked no questions, just accepting that Knellen had absolute faith in those with whom he travelled. That was enough. Nothing disturbed tranquillity. The weeks passed as they drew close to the city-state of Clariane, ruled by Adon, and though life there was harsh with enforced laws reluctantly promulgated by the Cynas, it wasn’t as severe as Arrain-Toh, Lethwyn or Castelus. Caste had evolved, through the auspices of the Red Council, but it was more fluid since emtori could move from a low status level to one higher with effort and an acceptable attitude.

  The Red Council had only very recently sent Varen out among the populace to reinforce newer and much harsher laws that saw even basic civilian rights further reduced and subjection more entrenched than it had ever been. Floggings were commoner and the people knew a writhling awaited them should they take a wrong step. That was new too. The people were wretched and deeply afraid. Fear was everywhere.

  The Cynas, approachable until recently, withdrew and was rarely seen. It was said he’d become melancholic and that he was troubled for his son but no one knew the reason why. And no one dared ask. The Cynas was now skilfully and carefully shielded from his people so was isolated and therefore more malleable and tractable. The Red Council kept him subservient to their wishes in a way gratifying for them but torture for Adon. He felt trapped and deeply vulnerable.

  It was through a Clariane elite Varen who, in effect, guarded him that Adon heard comments about a strange Varen who travelled in the direction of Clariane with what was purported to be a significant number of people accompanying him. Descriptions of them varied but Adon heard enough to arouse his interest, especially when his ear caught a whisper in his court room that suggested men of some ancient learning were among them. His guard Varen, ostensibly with him for his personal safety, casually mentioned that it was said a large contingent of rogue Varen from other city-states were a significant part of the group. Adon had steadfastly refused to have his Varen inserted with writhlings, but, as part of tightened control over him, he knew it was only a matter of time before this was done by the Red Council in spite of him. He inwardly writhed.

  Adon asked the Varen guard what his reaction to a writhling would be. The Varen fatalistically shrugged.

  “We are answerable to the Red Council, Honoured Cynas.”

  “And to me as the Cynas?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t demand a writhling, Varen.”

  “We know that. It is recognised among us.”

  “Do you need it?”

  “To obey you or the Red Council?”

  “Both.”

  “No.”

  “Do you obey me first or the Red Council?”

  The Varen looked curiously at the Cynas. He paused, meditatively.

  “Our first duty is to our Cynas. We were taught that the Red Council is the Cynas’ instrument of governance, something it’s our duty to enforce.”

  “If I wished, Varen, to take a jaunt beyond the city, but privately, would Varen accompany me to ensure my safety?”

  “It is our duty, so, of course.”

  “I feel confined, Varen, and wish to exercise my horse. There is an excellent hunting ground just beyond the gates. I will also take my falcons. Can you see this is immediately arranged?”

  “Certainly, my Cynas.”

  Adon walked restlessly about, one hand kneading the other as he waited, in a heightened state of anxiety, for the Varen to return. He did. He had a youth with him who looked enquiringly across at the older man still pacing.

  “My lord and father.”

  “Ardon! Son, it’s a pleasant morning, so I wish you to accompany me on a hunt. We’ve not been out for a while and I wish you to brush up those skills taught you. What do you say?”

  Ardon’s face lit up.

  “Of course. Anything is better then trawling through fusty old books!” He gave an engaging grin. “When do we go?”

  “Now, son.”

  “I’m not dressed for it.”

  “Neither am I,” responded Adon on a forced laugh, “but the Varen should have all organised.” Adon glanced across at the impassive Varen countenance. “Have you?”

  “All is in readiness, my Cynas.”

  Adon, accompanied by his son, strode to the door and out into the corridor, the Varen ahead of them. By lengthy corridors and stairs they reached the main stables where a large group of Varen were already mounted and fully armed, the Cynas’ stallion was readied and so was a smaller horse for the youth. Adon settled himself. He indicated the Varen with him should help Ardon do likewise. The troop began a slow walk from the stables, the falconers riding in the rear. Adon’s breathing was hard and fast and his pulse raced with anxiety and a touch of fear. The Varen who accompanied him could smell it.

  “Something troubles my Cynas?” he asked courteously.

  Adon forced himself to calm.

  “No,” he answered readily enough. “I’m just impatient after being confined for so long. I yearn for the open spaces.”

  The Varen showed his teeth in a smile. Adon, uncertain whether the Varen would betray him, dug his heels into his stallion’s flanks and suggested,

  “Tell them to open the gates, Varen.”

  The Varen obeyed and the gates, close now, yawned slowly back as the riders approached. Adon raised his hand in the signal for the gallop and the horses began a thunderous surge up to and through the gate, Adon stretching across to Ardon to urge the boy’s horse onward. It was then Ardon saw fear in his father’s eyes and realised his life may be in some kind of jeopardy. He needed no other warning. In a panic he was instantly beside his father as they both passed through the gate well ahead of the Varen and the falconers.

  It was then they heard a cry go up from the gatehouse and, glancing back, saw men signalling at them that they return. Adon turned his head right round. He saw the Red Council with a milling number of Varen just inside the gate.

  “Ride, Ardon!” he yelled. “Ride for your life, boy.”

  The Varen with Adon called out.

  “Cynas, why do you flee? No one intends you harm.”

  “Not me,” responded Adon through his teeth. ““But to my son, Varen.”

  The Varen was close beside Ardon so the youth unobtrusively drew his horse back from him and edged closer to his father.

  “We will not permit harm to either you or your son, Cynas. We do our duty.”

  “Varen, there are others of your kind organising to give chase even as we speak. Does that suggest anything to you?”

  “That they may fear for you, Cynas.”

  “Or are sent to take me back, Varen.”

  “They do their duty. We do ours.”

  “The Red Council appear to be the ones sending them out.”

  “Varen must obey the Red Council.”

  “As you must obey me?”

  “That is so.”

  “Then, Varen, I ask you all to ride hard with me so we can reach the grounds where I can relax and take some pleasure.”

  “As the Cynas commands,” acquiesced the Varen, with a shrug.

  Adon knew the pursuit began because he could see dust behind them. He had no clear idea where the travellers he’d heard about might be. All he knew was that they were close to Clariane so if they followed the usual route, he guessed they’d be only a few miles beyond the woods where he said he wished to hunt. He gestured to the Varen that he wished to maintain a gallop for as long as possible. He simply got a nod as the Varen signalled to those behind them and the formation tightened. Adon could still sense riders behind him but knew they merely paced him and the escort. They’d see no need to do otherwise and assumed they’d meet up with their Cynas soon enough because their orders would simply be to ensure the Cynas was safely returned from his hunting expedition. The Red Council never wasted time with needless explanations. Orders were curt and to the point with Varen subservients.

  Adon’s grou
p finally reached the woods and slowed to a canter so they could ride through the twisting lanes that often brought them to a trot or a walk.

  “We are here, Cynas,” said the Varen, showing his pointed teeth.

  “True,” murmured Adon.

  He slewed a little in the saddle to look round him as if seeking the best place to set up for a hunt. The Varen pointed to an area where the woods opened up.

  “We could settle the horses here, Cynas.”

  “Too exposed, Varen. Our prey would sight us too easily. We need deeper cover.”

  With that, Adon indicated a forward movement and they rode further into denser woodland for some distance before Adon drew up.

  “This is more like it, Varen.”

  The Varen dismounted and glanced disinterestedly around.

  “I would respectfully suggest, my Cynas, that here the prey will do better than we will.”

  “Your suggestion then?”

  “That we go back a little way or push on to where I can see the land clears but is backed by bush.”

  “Excellent. We will do exactly that.”

  Adon shot Ardon a warning look that made the young man stiffen. He was highly alert.

  The Varen remounted and once more gave the signal for forward. Within only a matter of minutes the small company came out into clearer ground, but they found they weren’t alone. A large company of riders, accompanied by another large group of armed men walking, emerged from the bush on the far side of the clearing. A ringing deep shout brought them to a halt.

  Adon saw four older men with a younger man; he was very, very tall and had deep auburn hair. He rode close to them. With him was a most striking woman. Behind them was a small group of four, among them a very large Varen who turned his head to look at those who surged onto open ground. Behind that Varen walked a group of people unknown to Adon who were heavily armed and were accompanied by a very large contingent of Varen who sat their horses expressionlessly. Adon blinked. Then he realised these were those he sought and never thought to find because he only half-believed what he was told.

  He made the first move. He rode forward, grasping at Ardon’s reins to draw the youngster with him.

  It was Knellen who rode forward, his expression stern.

  “Who are you?” The deep voice was uncompromising. “Do not attempt to interfere with us. It would be unwise.”

  Adon looked up and across to Knellen, only to be startled at the sight of the startling eyes. They were, indeed, real. His Varen had spoken the truth about a strange one of his kind.

  “I have heard of you and those with you.”

  “Probably. News travels fast. I repeat. State your intention.”

  “I am Adon, Cynas of Clariane.”

  “We have just passed your city. We do not wish to enter it.”

  “I’ve just left it, with my son. He answers to Ardon.”

  “For what reason?”

  “To hunt.”

  “Then we do not interfere with your pleasures, noble Cynas.”

  “Since we have met, may I speak with you?”

  Adon heard the intake of surprised breath from the Clariane Varen behind him and knew his closely accompanying Varen made their horses take a step back. Adon waited. Knellen caught the scent of stress and profound anxiety the Cynas so clearly tried to hide and immediately bent his head in acknowledgment.

  “I suggest you ride a little way with me, noble Cynas, with your son. Will that bother your escort?”

  Adon swung in the saddle to smile affably at his Varen.

  “I think not,” he replied. “They care for my son as they do me.” He looked inquiringly at his guard Varen who nodded, his teeth showing. Knellen responded likewise.

  “Then we shall walk our horses, Cynas.”

  The three riders began what looked like a relaxed walk, not too far away to cause Clariane guards concern. Then they paused. Adon’s guards could see the men talked, a conversation that appeared to be amiable and was accompanied by nods and occasional smiles. Adon’s guard remained on alert. It was Knellen who turned the conversation by saying abruptly,

  “You are troubled, Cynas.”

  “So would I be,” said a voice unexpectedly. Knellen looked behind him to see another rider had drawn close and was now abreast of them. “If you are indeed Adon of Clariane, and if memory serves me you are, we believe you’ve just promulgated new laws that are abhorrent.”

  “I have,” uttered Adon. “Under duress.”

  “Of what kind?”

  Quon studied the man curiously, his eyes flickering to the youth with him.

  “I was ordered to pass the laws and instruct the Varen to enforce them by the Red Council, because if I didn’t they said they’d put a writhling in my son. What would you do?”

  Quon and Adon both heard the sobbing choked gasp from Ardon.

  “No, Sire! No! They couldn’t.”

  “They could and would, my son. You should believe it.” There was a long silence. “Whoever you are, old man, I ask you to believe I speak the truth. I have been a prisoner in my own palace. I don’t deny I’ve done things I regret, because I allowed myself to be weak and manipulated by the Red Council over many syns, but I’m not an evil man even if I’ve brought evils on myself and many others. My wife is dead and Ardon is my only child. The Red Council do not threaten gratuitously.”

  “No,” mused Quon. “They do not.”

  “I heard of you all referred to as the travellers and said I wanted to go hunting and falconing with my son. It was in a desperate hope I’d find you.” The voice became low and dispirited. “I hope it’s not a futile quest, old man. There are other Clariane Varen after me. They will approach soon. I saw them with the Red Council at the city gates.”

  “What is it you want of us, Cynas?”

  “I ask only sanctuary for my son, nothing more.”

  Quon turned to Knellen.

  “Suggestions, my good man?”

  “Return to the others, Quon. It would be best for Jepaul to join us.” Knellen frowned at Adon. “Cynas, subterfuge is our only way round this. It may seem best if it appears we have an unexpected disagreement and I call up another who will simply take your son. Does the boy understand?”

  Adon shook his head.

  “Then I suggest you very quickly explain what you do and why. I will deal with the Clariane Varen if it becomes necessary.”

  Knellen watched Adon turn to his son and signal him close, his head bent to the young one. The Clariane Varen saw the boy jerk up his head and shake it vigorously. Their alertness increased. Quon meanwhile rode back to the watchful Doms and called to Jepaul who obligingly dismounted and crossed the ground to his mentor.

  “Quon?”

  Quon’s voice was very quiet.

  “It’s the Cynas of Clariane. He’s not evil though has shown considerable weakness in the past. However, the latest of his seemingly vile actions have been enforced through the threat of a writhling being inserted in his only son. This seems to have brought the Cynas to the realisation of his follies and he may, and I wonder about this, support us in the struggles to come. He has considerable resources, Jepaul. His city-state is wealthy and highly armed. Remember, Jepaul, it is a wise man who recognises he is a fool.”

  “What do you wish me to do?”

  “A ruse, young one, a ruse.”

  “I understand.”

  “It must be made to look as if we capture the boy but the father gets away. It’s imperative Adon returns to the city. He will have work to do and without the threat to his son he can more easily counter the Red Council. Can you arrange this? Knellen understands.”

  Jepaul nodded. He mounted his horse and rode out to Adon.

  “I wish you all to dismount,” he said uncompromisingly. He did so himself and waited, a very tall and remarkably imposing figure. Adon stared long at him once he was on the ground, his arm about his son. “You, boy, will come to me.”

  Ardon hesitated, so Jepaul crossed to h
im, took his arm and jerked him forward. Adon went to take a step and the Clariane Varen began a slow advance. Adon met Jepaul’s eyes and read both the warning and the comprehension. He understood.

  As his Varen came close he stepped back and said in a carrying voice,

  “Do as the man says, son. Now is not the time to disobey.”

  Ardon, young and now frightened, swallowed and swung round to his father.

  “Sire?”

  He got a nod from Adon who moved to his horse. Jepaul turned his head to the Clariane Varen who were now gathering behind their Cynas in an aggressive pose. Jepaul mounted his horse, the boy swung up in front of him as he spoke, his voice like ice.

  “We take this boy hostage, Clariane Varen. The father says other Varen follow you. That being so we don’t stay and the boy with us ensures you return to Clariane. If you do not, know the boy will never do so either. The Cynas has been told this. Knellen, I will leave you to ensure these Clariane Varen do not endanger the son of their Cynas. Cynas, take your Varen and enjoy the hunt you seek. It is not us.”

  “No,” agreed Adon, with a tired but immeasurably relieved smile that was only for Jepaul.

  Knellen spoke sharply.

  “Jepaul, tell all with us to stay armed and alert. This could be a volatile situation. Tell Lisle to put the boy with Cadran and to watch him.”

  “Have you anything further to say, Cynas?” asked Jepaul, preparing to turn his horse.

  “No more talk,” said Knellen curtly. He gestured at Adon. “Go,” he commanded.

  As he watched Jepaul ride away with Ardon, Knellen saw those who accompanied the Cynas now stared blankly at him, their eyes riveted to his. Knellen rode directly up to them until his horse’s nose nearly touched their leader’s horse.

  “What is your function, brother?”

  “I am guard Varen to the Cynas.” The Varen gestured behind him. “We are a half of the elite Varen of Cynas Adon who accompany him on a hunting expedition.”

  “And now? Did you hear what Jepaul said about the boy?”

  “I did, brother.”

  “Is he a prisoner in the city?”

  The Varen thought.

  “To all intents and purposes he is hostage to the Red Council, yes. They constantly threaten him.”

  “And as his guard you did nothing? What are your vows worth, brother?”

  “You misunderstand me, brother. The threat is not physical. There are threats of many kinds. If the Cynas’ person was in danger we would know our duty.”

  “I see. Did you know about the writhling?”

  Knellen saw the look of revulsion before usual Varen impassivity returned but he also saw the convulsive shiver.

  “No.”

  “Do you carry one?”

  “No.”

  “And there are others who follow?’

  “Yes.”

  “You clearly understand it is the threat of their coming that leads us to hold the boy as a bond of your peaceful return to your city?”

  “I do. We are a small group compared with your own. We understand the noble Cynas’s distress at your taking his son. It is our duty to protect him and his son. You make that difficult, brother.”

  “We could have taken the Cynas, brother. We have shown restraint.”

  “That is so. Still, the Red Council will be deeply angered.”

  “Your Cynas will ensure you do not suffer.”

  “That is so. He has always treated us well. He does not let the Red Council fully control us though we answer to them.”

  “Then know your duty, brother. It is to your Cynas at all times.”

  “We acknowledge that.”

  “Then return to your hunt, brother. Your other brothers will find you there.”

  With that Knellen wheeled his mount, rode back to the travellers and gave the command to move. Slowly the travellers disappeared from view. Adon put his head in his hands in seeming despair and slowly also turned his horse as he began a walk back across the open ground to the trees. His Varen followed him. There, Adon dismounted and began to pace about before he turned to his Varen.

  “We will hunt,” he said heavily. “Set it up.”

  The Varen obeyed, aware the other Varen from Clariane would soon be with them.

 

  The Red Council of Clariane were startled, displeased, then when they knew Ardon was gone, deeply angered. They questioned all Varen but couldn’t punish them because Adon refused to allow it. He remained quiet and did nothing to disturb the Red Council, but he wouldn’t pass any more laws and merely confined himself to his military. The Red Council were pleased to see that his apathy about an armed force was gone and they encouraged his new interest, especially in metal hardware and weaponry in general.

  They were delighted to see him out on the field with his armed men, training with them, because they intended Adon’s force, if conflict came, would be one of the stronger military troops from any city-state fighting for them. It was a pleasing prospect. They assumed all this, plus Adon’s urging for more enhanced training for his Varen, was intended to help him recover his son. The Red Council’s anger abated and Adon’s life became noticeably easier. He almost basked in their approval.

 

  Ardon, a youth of fourteen syns, was quartered with Cadran, and Knellen made it clear Cadran was to care for him. Gratan, too, was to be with him. Lisle had overall responsibility for the heir to Clariane. After prolonged discussion it was decided that Javen would also be responsible for Ardon and it would be he, Gabrel and Saracen who would start the youngster in basic training, as they did Jepaul and Cadran before him.

  Ardon was a slight boy with a dense mop of straight blond hair and hazel eyes and the Doms were also aware the boy needed schooling. Sighing, Sapphire began the boy’s instruction. Ardon lost his fears and anxieties. He began to enjoy a life that offered him far more freedom than he had previously experienced. The cloistered palace environment stifled him and it was where he was constantly aware of tension and an unspoken fear about his father as Adon kept the boy relatively confined. It was simply for Ardon’s safety. Adon didn’t trust the Red Council and with good reason. Now Ardon understood.

  As the travellers swung away from Clariane and began a slow haul back north, Ardon began to grow, adjusted and passed his fifteen syn day, to move steadily towards his sixteenth syn. He passed from boy to youth. He developed a sturdier musculature, studied assiduously, became very close to Cadran and Sapphire, liked to be with Javen and Gabrel, and was, finally, summoned by Knellen. From that day he began Varen training to enhance and broaden skills already learned. He even sometimes forgot Clariane though thoughts of his father were wistful. He hoped what he was told, that he’d one day see his father again and return to Clariane, was true. He saw it as a distant dream. Only a small sigh escaped him.