One was unlikely... But Gazda claimed to kill a new panther whenever the old disguise had rotted or worn out.
Such a thing was unbelievable.
Goro had seen the shining fang in action on the odd group hunt in which Gazda eagerly participated; and the silverback respected its gleaming edge after seeing it snatch the life out of prey, even though he doubted its power against his might. To the bull ape it was but a little fang, and there were few places on the silverback’s body where it could penetrate to a depth that would kill.
His warrior nature would make him wary of it, as he was wary of many dangers; but Goro was more concerned about Omag’s whispering, and the close attention that the failed silverback and the aging queens paid to his son Ulok.
Like any silverback, the king cared for his offspring, but had no love for them as they grew into maturity, and became ambitious blackbacks. Such love could blind him when a blackback son’s challenge came, and no king could be so sentimental.
He respected Ulok’s strength, and could see his own power there in the flex and heft of the growing ape’s muscular form.
Goro did respect it, though he did not respect the ape. Ulok had become a bully and had no honor. It was normal for the blackbacks to fight amongst themselves—and such behavior was even encouraged—but they were to protect the tribe. Many times had Goro seen Ulok bully the females and infants when his needs were not met, or when disappointment loomed.
Since Omag was also bully, it seemed to Goro that the association between the two was the source of his son’s dishonor. While this bothered the bull ape as a father, is soothed him as a silverback, for being a bully would make Ulok’s challenge weaker when it came.
Goro was not as convoluted a thinker as his enemies were, and that might have been his undoing in the end. He did not obsess over the unhealthy relationship between his son, Omag and the aging queens. It was his thought that the more likely outcome would be that Ulok would reach an age to challenge and in a rage slay the crippled Omag as was sometimes the way with young males—even if the older ape was not the king.
The silverback was glad then to think of old Baho’s loyalty. Baho had also fathered blackbacks in the tribe, and those were loyal to him and to the king.
Still, Goro knew a challenge would one day come, and he would be ready for it. At 450 pounds of solid muscle, few things in the jungle could threaten him.
And only a foolish blackback would dare make the challenge before he was at the height of his power. Goro doubted such an attempt would ever come from the night ape, for besides being crazy, Gazda did not seem to be so ambitious—and he was too small.
The night ape’s inclusion in such thinking usually came when Goro had puzzled over Gazda’s claims about killing panthers. It was inconceivable to the silverback that the comparatively scrawny night ape could accomplish such a thing, shining fang or not.
This usually led the king to wondering if even he could accomplish a victory over a big cat without such a weapon.
CHAPTER 19 – The Two Trees
Gazda was well into his 13th year and growing quickly into full adolescence. Whenever he returned from a hunt there would be clashes with the other young male apes because his diet of fresh blood and his active lifestyle had left his flexible body layered in banded muscle, and his head full of pride.
His hubris and his immaturity often provoked him into competitions of strength, speed and dexterity, all of it in a lead up to the day that he and other young males would be fully welcomed into the throng of blackbacks that jockeyed for position under Goro and his lieutenants, with most of them eyeing the throne.
This could lead to brutal exchanges between Gazda and his contemporaries that usually began in the good-natured spirit of competition, but that more often than not degenerated into payback for lifelong personal disputes, answering old debts, insults and jealousies.
Gazda enjoyed the tests of strength and courage to a degree that depended upon the time of day. At night or when the sun was directly overhead, the night ape could surprise the tribe by easily overpowering his peers, and while this built him a firm reputation as a fighter; it also meant he was the target of repeated attacks, since he had become a benchmark for all other challengers.
However, battles in the long shadows had been outlawed by the king, and their outcomes thrown into suspicion, which left the night ape timing his challenges for those parts of the day when he was strongest.
This restriction left a lot of defeated young blackbacks chattering and jockeying to fight the night ape again when it most favored them. Many quickly learned the trick of issuing their challenges mid-morning or afternoon when the night ape most craved his sleep. He could still win then, but the outcome was much closer and left him exhausted in victory and defeat.
At night when he could revel in his power, Gazda was more than a match for them, and at such times he entertained childish thoughts of calling adult males out to fight. His contemporaries were weak and slow-witted by comparison; and the night ape craved greater competition.
He had tried to challenge the mighty Ulok, but Omag had lunged between them, and with much flying spittle refused the fight on the young blackback’s behalf. Gazda was not a real ape, Sip-sip had claimed most hurtfully, and Gazda could find nothing to say in response.
In the night ape’s heart, he had yearned to call Omag out to a battle, but never in his most youthful boast would he dare utter such a thing to an ape that had fought Goro himself, for it would be like challenging the king.
And Goro’s indomitable power had been so ingrained on Gazda’s soul, and pounded in by his feats of prowess, that the silverback represented the epitome of strength in the night ape’s mind.
There had not been a serious challenge to Goro for many years because the silverback was truly the most powerful bull ape to come along in generations.
Many of the young blackbacks still performed mock displays, circling the king, but never doing more than earning a ferocious reprimand if they stepped too far. Those adolescent blackbacks who in their youth and folly came to blows with Goro were punished accordingly, but rarely did they suffer excessively for the king was not a despot.
Goro usually took the youthful exuberance in stride, and responded eagerly when the mock challenges came.
All male apes grew silver hair on their shoulders and along their spines when coming into adulthood, but it was only after challenging their king for leadership that this vest grew thick enough to earn the characteristic name of silverback.
So all kings were silverbacks and their challengers, too.
An adult blackback male would never perform a false display, for all such challenges were accepted, with an outcome that led to death or exile—or worse, a beating and mercy shown by a king that many considered “weak” for straying from tribal law.
Of course, tradition demanded that any genuine challenge for the throne should be made at the meeting place of the Two Trees where generations of ape successions had been decided.
That place was a great, grassy, stone-strewn clearing a day’s walk northeast of the Grooming Rock that was edged around with prickly thorn trees and fruit bearing bushes. The tribe visited at least twice a year when the fruits and nuts came into season, and it was there that the tribe knew any “official” challenges to leadership would come.
Two Trees was also the place where other challenges of less import were addressed, with the king holding court center to the “V” formed by the dead trunks of the titular “Two.”
Here he would listen to complaints within the tribe: of violent behavior between mates, of dangerous actions among blackbacks, of the true lineage of offspring, before he reminded all of the responsibilities for the guilty parties, of the dangers of infidelity and of the need to satisfy the victims.
Within a rough ring of stones by the buttressed roots of the Two Trees Goro would give his pronouncements and settle all disputes. The proceedings were essential to the tribe’s well-being as they ha
d been for generations, since small disagreements grew into large ones if unaddressed, and the jungle life was too fraught with peril to have one’s tribe divided against itself.
Here apes were judged, and proof of this was the old thorn-nest where legend said usurpers of the crown had ended up in ages past for attempting to circumvent the law and unseat a silverback through guile or mischief. There would such offending apes be detained until the challenged silverback dealt out swift punishment.
And it would have been harsh, for a tribe of apes cannot survive without a king, and a squabbling coalition of weaker, ambitious apes would not assure the survival of a tribe as one mighty silverback king could, since usurpers without loyalty would unseat each other before long. Their personal dreams would be more important than all else, and so the tribe would fail.
Not so with a silverback for he was the tribe, and so the tribe’s needs were his own.
But there at the Two Trees would official challenges be made, and so Goro and his tribe often entered the clearing with a mixture of excitement and trepidation upon their sturdy brows.
It was true that succession could occur away from this place if a silverback were fairly challenged—had he shown weakness or fear—and at other times when a silverback died far from the Two Trees temporary succession occurred that lasted until the apes returned to that place again.
Apes were creatures with short memories and few traditions, so with the “challenge at the Two Trees” chief among them, they clung to it with all their might.
The night ape, however, remembered everything, and was not so poorly endowed, seeming as eager to add to his treasure trove of remembrances as he was to increase the height of his growing pile of skins. Always, he was thirsty for experience.
Gazda fondly remembered a time when Goro had come to his rescue and cemented a bond between them that would forever keep the night ape from considering anything other than his complete loyalty to the king.
It happened in his fifth year. Gazda was trapped against a tangle of strangler figs by some young adolescents led by the big Ulok and dead Tobog’s son Dogo. They had teased him about his “snakeskin” and “bird legs” and mocked him with crude imitations of how he moved.
But it was when they insulted his mother that he finally flew into a rage.
“Eeda mates with monkeys,” Ulok had yapped as the other blackbacks panted in agreement.
Gazda was a third the size of the smallest bully there at that time, but he did not give this a thought when he launched an attack directly at Ulok who shied away from its ferocity.
Unfortunately, the adolescents were daylight creatures and had started teasing Gazda in the afternoon when much dim light still fought its way to the jungle floor to weaken him, so he was soon overpowered.
Four in the group, they gripped his arms and legs and beat upon his chest and bit at his shoulders and thighs with their long canines.
Gazda hissed and spat, but he could not break free.
But then Goro had exploded onto the scene. His massive body made the adolescents look like infants as he cuffed the closest about the head and back, before biting Ulok and lifting him over his shoulders.
The silverback threw the screaming adolescent into the trees where he struck and fell to the ground. Gazda was pleased to hear Ulok making fearful baby noises.
Goro chased the others, driving them forward, flailing their backs with a stout branch as they ran screaming into the closest trees.
The king abandoned the chase to glare after them, before rising up on his stout hind legs and beating his enormous chest from which sounded the challenging roar of the victorious bull ape.
His bellow filled the forest and left it silent.
As Gazda struggled to rise, Goro’s large hand wrapped around his arm, hoisting him to his feet.
The night ape squatted before the giant silverback with his eyes focused at the ground.
“Gazda sorry for trouble, Goro,” the battered night ape panted, with palm held out before him.
Goro brushed his hand with massive knuckles and lowered himself to his elbows to look the little one over—only cuts and scrapes on his thin white skin, perhaps some bruises.
The silverback grunted then, puzzled, looking for injuries he had seen on Gazda when first entering the fray.
The night ape knew the worst marks had disappeared already but was reluctant to discuss his rapid healing with the silverback, if he even needed to. How could he presume that the king did not have the same ability?
“You are too small to fight those apes,” Goro rumbled, studying him a moment longer. “And they are too old to fight one so young...” He scowled after the adolescents. They had been frightened, but they did not seem ashamed. “They have no honor!”
“They were teasing my mother,” Gazda said, shivering where he crouched. “Ulok said she is no ape!”
“Do not listen to their teasing. You are different and they fear of you,” Goro assured, then ripping up a handful of grass, and munching he said, “But none can tease you for lack of courage.”
Gazda gave a little pant of pleasure as he slapped the ground in his excitement, and his thin white chest swelled with pride.
“Nor tease you for having too much brains,” Goro barked, and then gave a pant and hoot, before snatching Gazda up by the arm and dangling him before his face.
“You are brave, little Gazda,” the silverback rumbled. “But a smart ape only fights when he must.”
Gazda’s mouth hung open in a grin, and Goro swung the cheeky night ape back and forth, before throwing him into the thorny underbrush where he tumbled end over end.
“You have honored your mother,” Goro had growled, strutting back toward the main group. “That is good. Mothers make the tribe.”
Often after that had Gazda followed Goro through the jungle when he could and always would he mimic the silverback’s behavior, stance and actions for he wished to be like his king and master.
This hero worship drew the attention of the tribe, but it was not unusual for young males to copy the king, and word of Goro’s intervention on the night ape’s behalf soon caused a marked decrease in gossip about Gazda’s parentage.
Old Baho had always been curious about Gazda, but never teased for he had connected the “night ape,” as many had, to the Fur-nose creature. While that made him unnatural by association, it also gave him an excuse for being crazy.
Baho was just glad that Eeda’s foundling had shown no sign of sprouting fur on his nose, or growing a thunder-hand on his arm.
The rest of the tribe had continued to hold Gazda in various degrees of acceptance, from a deep friendship as with his little friend Ooso and the dim-witted Kagoon to outright but now silent, hostility.
For this reason, when Gazda was not with his friends or his mother, he was usually by himself.
Eeda had always told Gazda that the adult blackbacks had to be respected and feared for it was the law of the tribe, but that like any growing male, he should not let anyone dominate him or suffer injustice unnecessarily. She had long felt the uncanny strength flowing in his wiry limbs, and had seen his speed and ferocity—and felt his first bites.
She knew Gazda could take care of himself, and now that he had grown to almost half the size of his contemporaries, she feared that the adult males might try to manipulate him into taking dangerous chances or making challenges he would not survive if they grew fearful of his differences.
Generally, the adult blackbacks kept to themselves, and were not concerned with females or smaller apes because they were focused on the leadership and gauging the time that they might some day take it away from Goro in battle.
So much of this was just talk that it was easy to be lulled into a complacency that no silverback could afford, for in a moment the growing pressure would boil up and a challenge would be issued; then the jungle calm would explode in a primordial battle to the death.
Of this Gazda was aware since he’d been witness when bigger blackba
cks had come close to challenging the king for the crown. But so massive was Goro, so impressive his musculature and frame that all rivals had abandoned their displays halfway through before the ignominious conclusion of being chased by the silverback as he bit their flanks and chewed their bloody necks.
The dispirited contenders consoled themselves by saying that a successful challenger would one day come, but Goro was at the peak of his power, and only his son Ulok had any chance of growing so large.
The whole tribe knew that Ulok had been taken under the wing of Omag and the aging queens and had watched as they groomed him and fed him choice grubs, meats and fruits, until his frame swelled large with muscle.
“There,” the tribe would whisper, “is the ape who will challenge Goro.” But he was still young, and had not yet grown into his full power. When that happened, then the tribe would tread softly whenever visiting the Two Trees.
Omag’s illness had continued to worsen, twisting the bones in his right arm, and consuming the flesh on his left cheek from the top of his muscled crest and down the jaw to the shoulder, and breast. The exposed flesh and veins had scabbed over in places, but would open up when the crippled ape moved about. Then they would ooze pus and dark fluids that collected by his ruined mouth and dripped from the hole in his face.
The lips on that side no longer stayed closed and remained barely under his control. He still managed to communicate articulately enough to be understood, though he was helped enormously by the ape-language’s reliance upon gestures.
The sip-sip sounds that accompanied his distorted mouth’s many failings had grown more pronounced, as had his indignation and violence toward anyone drawing attention to it.
His disease helped drive his ambition now, the crippled ape aware that as his handicaps grew worse, so would his ability to provide for himself. He needed power and influence to survive.
Sip-sip, as many still called him in whispers, continued to leave the tribe from time to time and while the other apes wondered about this, they did not care. As a “failed” silverback, it was normal for such surviving males to leave the tribe to start groups of their own.
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