Death might have caught both his enemies in its jaws, for such was the way of the jungle, and yet if both lived, then they would feel the King of the Apes’ wrath!
With this rage boiling in his mighty chest, Gazda bared his fangs and snapped them at the branches overhead for he could not utter the challenge that gathered in his mouth.
Gazda struggled at such times for he was the greatest hunter and fighter that the jungle had ever known. His roar could set the world to trembling, and none in all his land dared to challenge him.
He was King of the Apes, and master of beasts, and he would master Omag and Magnuh if only he were patient.
Patient! How could he be patient?
Such annoying delays left him prey to boredom, and in that lull his spirited mind would shift to the questions of his life, and without answers he would be left conflicted yet again.
And the discord that gathered in his breast strained for release.
Even his hate for the Bawaniri brought nothing but more frustration as his desire for vengeance was denied.
His interaction with the bone-faces had always been terrible and cruel, and yet, part of him pined for enemies that were as strong and fast as he. And had the Bakwaniri been more challenging prey, then more easily could he believe that they shared blood and ancestry with him.
But when Gazda would have bared his teeth and fought to the death, the bone-faces jabbered and squeaked like infants in a thunderstorm. He had no stomach for their weakness, so as they keened he tore their throats and drank their blood.
A wry grin tugged at his handsome features as he remembered leaving the dead creatures on the trail, jokes for Harkon the huntress.
Gazda liked the black female because she did not fear him, and had a mind that worked much like his own. He had learned this at the same time he discovered a strange new ability.
Once he had approached Harkon as she slept in her hiding place, and as he crouched over her in the shadows to study the fluttering eyelids, he’d been shocked to feel his crimson gaze burn past her dark lashes to see what shapes moved inside her dreams.
Those came to him as feelings, sights and sounds experienced much as his own thoughts and memories were. There he saw other night apes like Harkon carrying weapons like Gazda’s long knife and her spear. They were gathered around a central fire by huts like his tree-nest.
And as the night apes shared a bowl of liquid, bone-faces had come into Harkon’s dream, and they screamed as she killed them.
Gazda had been shocked that these things came unbidden to his mind as pictures, and he wondered if Harkon also shared the ability to see beneath the skin. He decided it might be another difference separating them from his tribe of apes.
So, Gazda had gone from there to look at the dreams of old Baho only to find them either disorganized tangles of sensation and distorted recollections of bloodthirsty predators or calm and happy shapes and warmth mixed with desires for mother’s milk, fruit or mating.
It was very different to what Gazda had seen in Harkon, for in her, the night apes were tall and graceful in bearing, and their actions were...majestic.
Gazda had no interest in seeing the dreams of Bakwaniri, though studying the bone-faces had convinced him they were different from the apes in the same ways he was.
However the differences were more about appearance in the bone-faces. They were marred by sickness and decay, but their limbs and hairless skins were shaped like his own, though unlike Gazda, they were much weaker than the apes and so, he had decided they were a different tribe again.
He had yet to test his strength against Harkon the huntress, but with her black skin, he had already reasoned that she also was of a different tribe of night apes.
So Gazda decided that while he, Harkon and the bone-faces were like apes, they were much more.
All three used physical adornments and garments—a desire that the tribe of apes did not share. Nor did the apes use tools or weapons other than Omag’s murderous axe-head cane.
Gazda had never seen an ape fight with more than fang and claw.
Which meant that Gazda and Harkon were different from the Bakwaniri that they killed—and all of them were night apes similar but different to Gazda’s adoptive tribe.
But knowing this had only increased his frustration.
He supposed that was why he enjoyed his time away from the apes. While they all did many of the same things, as life slowed down for them, Gazda’s mind seemed to speed up.
He was king but he was discontented.
Since Ooso, Kagoon and his mother had gone in death, he had recognized a distance growing between himself and his tribe. He still loved them, and would do his uttermost to care for them; but he was away often, and remained distracted whenever he returned.
The king always checked on tiny Yulu’s progress in her grandmother’s care, and found her as smart as Ooso, and she liked to tease—even the new king; but he had been too pleased by the sound of her bird calls to take offense.
Such visits left Gazda torn because they made him long for the tribe when he was away, yet their plodding lives always drove him back into isolation.
He remained a member of his adoptive tribe and would forever hold to that group, but he was a night ape, too—and without others of his kind, he was alone.
Gazda had continued to use the tree-nest as his lair and there he displayed his hunting trophies as Fur-nose had hanging skulls, horns and furs upon the wall. There he also kept oddities from his travels like the Bakwaniri bone-face, and there he had still more souvenirs that were a mystery to him: objects of transparent stone and other flotsam from the beach.
Still other treasures he had buried in graves behind the tree-nest at the jungle’s edge.
Gazda had surprised himself when on that awful night of his coronation, he’d been unable to leave little Ooso’s body to the flies, and instead had carried it back to bury alongside Kagoon.
They had been important apes in his life, and with the loss of his mother, then Goro, his great loneliness was sometimes soothed by the mere proximity of dead friends.
In good weather, Gazda slept in the shadows near them.
CHAPTER 6 – Weight of the Crown
The night ape had continued to develop and mature in the months following Goro’s death, with the weight of new responsibilities seemingly exercising his muscular and mental abilities.
Gazda’s long, strong limbs swelled with layers of knotted muscle and sinew, just as the flexible pillar formed of his torso, chest and neck had thickened into a solid, near impenetrable mass.
Despite his many frustrations, he had embraced his role of king if he did not love his duties. Gazda reveled in his stature among the other apes, and at the strength that surged through his body, and made him master of all he looked upon.
And there was no lack of respect and admiration from the tribe.
Gazda was King of the Apes and none would dare challenge his power, nor would they choose to for he had brought peace and harmony after the usurpation of Goro and Ulok.
The surviving blackbacks had healed from their injuries, and many were returning to their competitive and boastful ways. These were able creatures to support old Baho, who had been charged with leading the tribe during Gazda’s absences.
Gazda found his basic silverback responsibilities rather simple. He was to protect the tribe from predators and danger, lead them to feeding grounds and water, and select safe sleeping trees.
Being a creature of the night, Gazda traveled ahead of the tribe while they slept using his enhanced senses and speed to locate the best fruits and plants, and to select the simplest routes to them. He would then give these directions to Baho at dawn, before finding a secluded place to sleep.
On occasion, he would give this information along with a gift of flesh, the remains of any beast that had fallen to the night ape’s fangs, and was of a size large enough to feed the tribe.
This extra protein had been pivotal to the injured blackb
acks’ rapid healing, and the other apes’ gradual return to their daily lives.
Which remained, for the most part, boring to their sovereign’s active mind.
Chief among his responsibilities was to act as the judge and advisor in all disputes within the tribe of apes. Gazda would sit at Two Trees or other place along the trail and administer tribal law, applying it to one case after another...and another.
In one instance, the blackback Kulo wished to mate with Eecha but she had refused him because she cared for another younger blackback Taba who all within the tribe understood to favor other males.
Gazda had pointed out that it was Eecha’s choice, though it would be wise for her to understand Taba’s nature if she wished to mate with him, reminding the she-ape of her duty as a female to bring strong infants into the tribe.
Kulo had departed the court bristling and quite angry, but Gazda did not worry that this would grow into violence for he knew there were other beautiful females, and if Taba continued to favor males, Eecha might come around to Kulo’s way of thinking given time.
There were many such domestic conflicts. In fact, they crowded the docket.
In one dispute a female had complained about another she-ape’s carelessness with her offspring and other infants. She fed them well enough but was neglectful of their health in other ways: sleeping when they played, and allowing them to roam the high branches unattended.
Already, she’d lost a little babe to a hungry male chimpanzee.
Gazda remembered the incident, and how he had turned it into an adventure by personally stalking the big chimp that slew the infant. After killing the beast, the night ape had indulged himself, and left the bloodless body hanging in a tree for the other chimpanzees to see.
With that neglectful she-ape standing before him again, the king had had no choice but to scold her roundly, reminding her that “mothers make the tribe. Their vigilance and care protected more than did the strength of blackbacks.”
Like Goro, Gazda was loath to bite or beat the she-apes, knowing that violence within the tribe only begat more violence.
While those cases occasionally provided some distraction from the day to day, Gazda’s administrative duties involved little more than ironing out simple squabbles between apes and resolving basic issues of tribal law.
So to avoid resenting those duties, Gazda made sure he spent the same amount of time or longer away fulfilling his obligation to protect the tribe by hunting leopards, hyenas, and anything that preyed upon apes—or by seeking the peace and quiet of his lair.
After all, the King of the Apes was himself one of the many mysteries in the land. He used the lair for turning the puzzle of his origins over in his mind for purely philosophical reasons, and to ponder other important issues that would inevitably require solutions.
Gazda wanted more than revenge from Omag—though revenge would be sweet. The night ape could not be king in his own mind while the crippled ape still lived. None in the tribe would question Gazda’s authority, but a voice inside his own head spoke constantly of the rights of succession.
So long as Sip-sip lived and breathed, he could offer a legitimate challenge to Gazda’s leadership.
True, the crippled ape had by guile and treachery stolen the crown from Goro and Ulok, but Omag had stood in their hot blood at Two Trees and taken the throne to be his own.
Baho’s loyalists had forced the usurper out, and the tribe declared Gazda king, but that was not tribal law. So Gazda was hounded by a doubt that fed his thirst for Omag’s blood.
But only after order had returned to his beleaguered tribe had he begun to obsess about it.
Mourning for the fallen had been addressed, and the new hierarchy established with the old silverback Baho taking up the position of Gazda’s most trusted lieutenant.
Under him came other lesser blackbacks who sorted out their pecking order as their wounds had healed and strength returned.
Seeing that restored, the she-apes and their offspring quickly sank back into their own competitive hierarchy. The aged queens Oluza and Akaki had ruled the other females mercilessly so their deaths had brought a new era of freedom for them all.
The she-apes had their say in the greater tribal issues through their blackback mates, and would undoubtedly be jockeying for position as they whispered over nursing infants and quarreling young.
Other bands of apes far to the south had their own rituals to establish dominance and order that involved eating the flesh of dead enemies, cavorting to the beat of earthen drums and performing re-enactments of glorious hunts; but because of its particular makeup and evolution, outside of social grooming and sharing food, Gazda’s tribe was caught up in the interactions of its powerful members male and female, the gaining and retaining of individual power and status, and the political intrigue that was forever working in the background.
All of it was governed by tribal law, so rather than savage revels, Gazda’s apes schemed and grew more adept in the ways of communication.
Other things had delayed Gazda pursuing his obsession for Omag’s blood, for Baho had reminded him that it was not for the king to seek revenge when his strength was needed at home. Going after Omag or Magnuh would rob the tribe of a leader who could bring them food and comfort...and stability.
Which led to the boredom that grated on Gazda, and would eventually wear him down, or incite him to impulsive acts, for as time went on, “revenge” became the most exciting prospect for him.
None of the other apes knew how to assist him with this dilemma except old Baho, who had suggested the king’s pent up feelings were caused by isolation and the weight of the crown, and that these things could be remedied if he took a lovely she-ape as a mate.
He suggested any of Goro’s young widows.
But, that prospect was impossible for Gazda now that he had acknowledged the fundamental differences between himself and his tribe. He was a night ape, and Goro’s widows were not.
Few understood his dilemma for the apes had long ago accepted him as one of their own.
So rather than let the apes think he’d lost the will to lead or had grown introspective or aloof with power; he often put Baho in charge while announcing to the others that he would range ahead in search of new food sources.
Then he’d travel to his lair and spend days at a time alone, doing things that Fur-nose or other night apes might have done.
Which was to say, he hunted frequently, and took advantage of the tree-nest to stay out of the rains when they came, and he used the shelter for perfecting his skills at curing animal skins.
Away from the tribal distractions, Gazda knew how to keep himself busy as he had done for most of his life. Few of his peers had ever been able to offer more than curiosity about the thoughts that whirled around in the night ape’s head.
For that reason, Gazda missed Ooso the most for she had had the quickest mind and cheekiest disposition, and would fearlessly ponder the deepest and finest points of life.
But the other apes of his tribe? It wasn’t fair to blame them for his boredom. They were what they were, and Gazda was...something else. His dreams often spun and dazzled beyond his own ability to comprehend—how could he expect anyone else to understand?
Which always brought him back to the differences he had with the tribe, and the similarities he shared with Harkon the huntress.
He had seen that she also dreamed strange dreams.
So at the tree-nest Gazda was left to dwell upon his differences, enjoying the time alone to puzzle over Fur-nose’s artifacts, trying on what clothing remained and sleeping on the soft bed.
He gleaned the skin-stones for any proof that he was different, scouring the flimsy picture-skins for white upright creatures like himself. The squiggly black lines and dots depicted night apes wearing capes, and leather coverings reminiscent but unlike his or Harkon’s. In other depictions, grotesque adornments covered the creatures altogether, and in such cases it was only through their pale faces that Gazda
could see that they were night apes too!
In this isolation Gazda’s mind had come alive to possibilities. Distracted and seething with curiosity and energy but starved of knowledge, companionship and engagement, the night ape grew more irritated by the day.
So as life had returned to normal for the apes, he cultivated his loneliness with a concentration that often bordered on fury. Then, the tribe’s heavy footfall could drive him screaming into the trees to hunt or seek out some wild and dangerous adventure.
Gazda would stalk the creatures of the jungle night until they feared the very sight of his burning eyes for upon them he visited his wrath—while at other times he might haunt Harkon’s footsteps wishing she would speak to him again, or failing that he bathed the trails in Bakwaniri blood.
At the thought of bone-faces, a thrill of anxiety ran through him and Gazda rose to his full height, standing over the dead panther to sniff the early evening air.
His beloved tree-nest was unprotected and vulnerable, and the Bakwaniri could be anywhere.
The tree-nest. He had nothing else that so clearly defined his connection to things outside the tribe of apes. Nothing else to relieve the keen alienation he often felt.
Could the bone-faces take the tree-nest for their own?
And what of Omag? It was not that long ago that the night ape had been to Sip-sip’s cave. Had the traitor abandoned it to return to Gazda’s land—and as an exile from the tribe would he not be looking for a secluded lair of his own?
The other apes remembered Fur-nose’s lair and they avoided it, but might that isolation appeal to a fugitive?
Gazda glared up into the canopy and a sharp intake of breath answered its soaring, green immensity. The jungle was too great a thing for him to guard alone. A bone-face hunting party could have easily slipped by him with designs upon the tree-nest.
As could Omag.
It was not the first time the night ape had struggled with this thought for pondering such small fixations filled his lonely hours. Gazda had only to feed but once a night and his capacity for the rapid satisfaction of those needs left him time aplenty for worry.
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