To either side of an aquiline nose, Gazda’s eyes were dark—almost black—ringed with white and appeared as such in daylight, though they could be seen to flash like crimson flame in the darkest shadow or deepest night—or should some hot passion seize him at any time of day.
The night ape’s voice was human at its core, though life among the anthropoids and the daily raucous sounds of the teeming jungle had made him a virtuoso in its use. He could easily utter the primitive ape-language and mimic any member of the tribe.
By amplifying certain characteristics of it he could agitate the entire group, or use its subtleties to calm an angry blackback in full display. Likewise he could employ its various ranges to sooth the wiliest prey into stillness.
This he used along with the talent for mimicry taught him by Ooso, who had used her mastery of birdsong to answer her cravings for flesh by luring small birds to their doom. Together in mischief they had learned the vocal range of many animals within the canopy.
Combined with Gazda’s hypnotic, sometimes crimson, gaze he could, if he was sufficiently motivated, dominate the simple communications of his tribe, or overwhelm any animal in the jungle that was within earshot.
But he was not often interested in employing this gift upon his fellow apes, for the day-to-day workings of the tribe had long since grown dull to him, and he was rarely moved to participate in its somewhat shambling social life. He was proud to be a member of the group, fiercely so, but he was simply too far ahead of his tribe mates to be drawn into their primitive politics.
Gazda rarely even played his jokes on Sip-sip as a result, and he could barely remember the last time he had thrown a stone at the crippled ape. This was not the case for Omag who could not forget being the target of those random missile attacks and because of that was still prone to nervousness when the tribe stopped to feed or groom, and should the slightest sound come from overhead.
But his tormentor had begun to avoid such things, since Omag always took his frustrations out upon his innocent brethren thus diminishing the night ape’s enjoyment of the joke.
Gazda’s adolescence had seen the passage of the worst uses for his special abilities, and as a responsible ape growing into adulthood; he would not willfully add trouble to the normal anxieties that afflicted the tribe.
Besides the reactions of even the most intelligent anthropoids were too predictable to provide much amusement to the night ape’s active mind. He would rather spend his time chasing down Harkon, and studying that remarkable creature.
Gazda and Kagoon had grown closer following the night ape’s actions during the king’s battle with the lions. The big blackback had been impressed by his friend’s bravery and the pair of them now hunted together whenever they could or joined in wrestling and mock battles, each honing his strength and skill against the other.
A similar thaw had occurred between Gazda and many blackbacks and now like the simple Kagoon, they sought the night ape out when he returned to the tribe, curious to learn the power of his shining fang, and to understand this surprising character that had so outrageously circumvented ape law.
They were also anxious to test his strength which had always been a surprising thing, but that had now grown in proportion to his bravery.
In fact, most blackbacks now accepted their losses to the night ape graciously as a means of strengthening their friendship with the victor. His reputation as a great hunter and an ape of honor had removed any embarrassment from being beaten at his hands.
Ooso was still very close to Gazda and had grown more so after her tiny daughter Yulu had grown past her toddler stage, and now demanded much of her mother’s time and energy. Ooso was pleased to share those responsibilities with her old friend, whom Yulu already sought out for extra attention without any encouragement.
The little she-ape was shaped like her mother through the body, having a round, fat torso and conical head; but with her very long arms and legs, she presented an unusually gangly form for an infant. Gazda had found that carrying Ooso’s daughter was like holding a very furry melon with four long and wriggly vines attached.
In her short life Yulu had bonded with him, and looked for the night ape whenever there was time for play, or for grooming anywhere along the trail—especially at the Grooming Rock where she loved to show off her special connection with the tribe’s most unique fighter and hunter.
In fact, whenever the night ape visited the tribe and he was not competing in mock display with the other blackbacks, he was carrying tiny Yulu around on his hip while the little she-ape played with the curious pendant he wore around his neck.
Gazda was free with his affections for Ooso’s daughter, though he resisted her efforts to make theirs an exclusive arrangement because all of the young apes in the tribe were drawn to him by his unusual appearance, and the many strange tales that had grown up around him.
Tales given life by old Baho’s popularity among the young, and his predilection for storytelling—a predilection that often kept Gazda busy correcting the exaggerations that crept into the former silverback’s narratives.
Gazda was quick to correct the inaccuracies for they usually put too bright a light upon his prowess, and the night ape did not want to overshadow his king. Goro had fought the lions by himself, and would have gladly died for the tribe if Gazda had not intervened.
The silverback was the true hero of the tale. He was the king.
As his loyal subject, Gazda had always supported Goro, and would until his dying day, so he would not encourage anything but the elevation of the mighty ape’s status.
Having reached the age of 38 years, Goro was at the
