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
