"You don't have to... I can reach my ankle just fine, you don't have to do this!" Galen tried unsuccessfully to slap Zana's hands away. She glanced up to him with an annoyed look on her face.

"I know, dear! I like taking care of you, it's not as if you forced me to wait on you." She continued to unwrap his bandages, and Galen leaned back into the pillows, still somewhat uncomfortable.

"Well, I, I had the impression our hosts were expecting you to wait on me..."

Zana shrugged. "Perhaps they do - but if I'd ever done what's expected of me, we wouldn't be here, would we?"

Galen smiled wryly. "It seems that's true for both of us."

"Oh, it looks much better today!"

Galen leaned forward to have a look himself. The swelling was gone. "It stopped hurting, too... perhaps I'll be able to walk soon," he said hopefully.

Zana sighed. "Alan and Peet would be thrilled to hear that! The poor things are practically limping into the yard every evening!" She bit her lip, but was unable to control her grin. "What price did you tell Polar this morning?"

Galen fell back into the pillows with a huff. Just as Zana had predicted, the old farmer had begun, not too subtly, to put out feelers for Alan's price. It was ridiculous - even if Galen had been the human's owner, which he wasn't, and even if he'd considered selling him, which he hadn't, there was no way Polar would ever be able to afford him. The only reason he didn't crush the farmer's wishful fantasy was that as long as Polar kept dreaming of owning the human, he wouldn't throw them out while his ankle was still sore.

"Thrice the value of what my father paid for our cook," he said, and Zana shook her head.

"Don't you think that was a bit over the top? He couldn't even afford him if you'd set it at half your cook's price." She began wrapping up his ankle with the wet bandages that were soaked with Yantes' ointment.

Galen shrugged. "I didn't want to give him ideas about taking up a second loan on the farm. Oh, he thought it to be a fair price, by the way." He sighed and plucked at the pillow. "But it seems my strategy backfired all the same."

Zana began bandaging up the foot with the last, dry wrapping. She frowned. "How so?"

"He, ah, he asked me if I'd sell him one of Alan's offspring instead... once we'd settled in with our relatives up North, and started breeding." Galen pinched the bridge of his nose. "The price I asked convinced Polar that Alan is prime material, so of course every ape with common sense would start making money from that."

"Never tell Alan anything about that conversation," Zana said darkly. Galen laughed.

"Oh, no. No, I'm not getting into that... what's going on out there?"

He recognized Anto's voice - shouting and cursing in the yard, probably about his cow. Galen barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

Zana quickly stepped to the window; she stiffened after a single glance. "Anto's chasing Alan and Peet around the yard! He's trying to beat them! The bastard..." She hurried to the door, but paused, her hand already on the handle, when they heard Polar's deep voice from the yard. The shouting stopped.

Then the door was pushed open so forcefully that Zana staggered back.

Anto stomped in, hands clenched into fists, fur bristling, filling the room with a trembling fury that seemed to completely suck out the air. Galen cautiously put his bandaged foot on the floor and sat straighter. He fervently wished he'd be able to stand up - he didn't want to be forced to look up to the furious youngster; that made for a bad starting position in a duel.

Galen had no doubt they'd be dueling, though he hoped it would be limited to words.

"You. Will leave! Tomorrow, you'll be gone, or I'll set the patrol on you, and if I have to run all the way down to the prefect and back!" Anto pointed a trembling finger at Galen's face.

He could hear Zana's sharp inhale, and see Polar and Yantes hovering silently beyond the threshold from the corner of his eyes, but Galen kept his gaze firmly fixed on Anto's face. He hoped that his own face betrayed nothing but calm superiority, even if he felt neither inside.

"You have to excuse my ignorance," he said, keeping his voice light and pleasant, "but I have to wonder what could possibly make you go back on your father's word all of a sudden."

Anto growled. "A word must be kept by both sides! You gave your word that your humans will leave the cow alone!"

Galen nodded. "And so they have."

"No they haven't!" Anto roared. "The cow is sick! She doesn't eat, and she's screaming with pain! Your humans have put a hex on her! She's dying!"

Galen frowned. "Even if your cow has fallen ill, it has nothing to do with the humans!" There was no use debating superstition, especially not with a hysterical farmer, but he had to try at least. "I'm sorry if your cow has troubles, but the sensible thing is to call a veterinarian..."

Anto ignored that advice. "She'll die... then what will I do? I'll never get a bull calf of my own! - You're staying so she'll die, and your humans can burn her flesh and eat it!" He stepped closer, towering over Galen. "She started dying the day they walked in here, carrying you - human-lover!"

"Anto!" Zana hissed, the first time she spoke up since Anto had almost smashed the door in her face. Galen admired her self-control, but that last slur had obviously been too much even for her.

"Nobody wants to eat your cow, neither me, nor Yuma, nor Alan..."

"You tell them to remove the hex," Anto yelled at Galen, completely ignoring her. "Because if she dies in birth, I may kill the humans, that's the law!"

"I would leave at once, if I could, but my ankle isn't healed yet!" Galen pointed out through clenched teeth. "I can't walk!"

"Remove the hex and leave - today!" Anto repeated. He stormed out of the room before either of them had a chance to say anything. The door banged shut behind him.

Galen took a deep breath and exchanged a look with Zana. "I think it's best if we have a word with your humans," he said weakly.

Galen had the sinking feeling that having that word with the humans would fall to him, since Zana was still fuming when Yantes ushered them into the bedroom. They eyed her warily, as if they weren't sure whether her ire was directed against them, or Anto.

"We didn't do anything to the damn cow," Peet said.

Zana stopped pacing the room and flapped her hand. "Of course you didn't. That boy is unreasonable." She mustered them with open concern. "How are you? Are they treating you right?"

"We work like slaves, but they don't beat us," Peet muttered. "If it wasn't so damn cold in the barn, we'd never have gotten near the cow - we just wanted a bit of straw between our butts and the mud."

"Oh!" Zana put her hands on her hips. "I'll talk to Polar about that. You should've told me earlier!"

The human shot her a dark look. "Yeah... there was no chance for that. We didn't exactly run into each other much, lately."

"You're right." Zana looked stricken, and Peet ducked his head, perhaps regretting his outburst. "There wasn't much opportunity for me... I was helping Yantes, and the women don't have much to do with the workers outside the house and kitchen garden..."

"Anto has demanded that we leave tomorrow," Galen interjected. This chitchat about blankets and housework wasn't helping them with their real problem. "Help me up, please."

The humans stepped forward at once and hauled him up, supporting him on either side. Galen gingerly set his foot on the ground. "I can touch the floor," he said through clenched teeth, "but I don't know if I can put weight on it..."

"Put your arms around my and Pete's shoulders," Alan said. "Lean on us to take off the strain from your ankle."

With a deep breath, Galen cautiously shifted his weight.

White-hot pain stabbed through his ankle and up to his knee, and he cried out. The humans slowly let him down on the bed again. "It's no good," Alan said. "You're not fit to travel yet, Ga- Yuma, I'm sorry."

Galen sighed and buried his head in his hands. Zana sat down beside him and put her arm around his shoulders. "Leave me here," Galen mumbled into his hands. "Anto will cool off once you and Peet are gone." He turned to Zana. "You go ahead, and I'll catch up with you later."

"Without us, Polar has no reason to hide you under his roof anymore," Peet pointed out. "He doesn't help you out of the kindness of his heart, but because he can work us like horses." He sounded tired, and when Galen looked up, he was struck by the weariness in the human's stance and face; how long would he be able to keep up?

There was a moment of silence as everyone contemplated their options. There weren't many.

Zana rose from the bed and put a hand on Peet's arm. "I'll talk to Yantes - and Polar," she said resolutely. "You two go back to the barn, I'll have a look at that sleeping place of yours - and I'll bring you some blankets later. And I'll see to it that Polar gets Anto under control. He's still the patriarch here, not this cow-mad boy!" She smiled at all of them in turn, in a poor attempt at boosting morale. The humans smiled back wryly, honoring her attempt more than actually believing her.

Galen didn't feel too optimistic himself - if anyone would have to convince Polar, it would be him, not Zana. The country folks were a bit more conservative in that respect. But right now, all he could feel apart from the pain was guilt. Guilt, and helpless rage at his own clumsiness. He glumly watched the humans leaving.

"I'm sorry..." he murmured.

Breakfast was a rather subdued matter, although neither Polar nor Yantes behaved any different from the days before. Maybe it was her own bad conscience, Zana thought - when she had returned from the barn the night before, determined to talk to Yantes about the trouble with Anto and her humans, she had found that the couple had already retired for the night; the farmers went to bed much earlier than she was used to from her old life in the city.

She covered her sigh by blowing on her tea; the heat from the cup was seeping into her palms and reminded her how Peet had complained about the cold in the barn the other day. A pang of guilt stabbed her - with everyone already asleep, she hadn't been able to bring the humans the blankets she had promised them, either. Although Zana knew that she had never owned them when she had been their handler back at the institute, and that they were now all outlaws, she still felt responsible for them. Well, she could ask Polar now...

"Anto." Polar's deep voice stopped the young Gorilla at the door. The farmer pointed at his seat. "Sit down and have breakfast with us."

The young ape didn't move. "I want to look after the cow first."

"The cow ain't going anywhere, and I want to eat in peace for once," Polar said in the same calm voice, though a hint of steel had crept into it. Anto had heard it, too, apparently, because he slipped into his seat without another word and began to stab at his breakfast with more force than necessary.

The tension around the table had jumped up several degrees; for a while, nothing could be heard except the clinks of stoneware and Polar slurping his morning tea. Now wasn't the right time to break the subject of Alan and Peet's lodgings, Zana decided; perhaps she could catch Polar before he went out to the field, or bring him lunch later...

"I want you to leave today," Anto suddenly spoke up, his gaze fixed on Galen. "I know you're fit to travel again. I just wonder how long you've been pretending to be a cripple."

"Anto!"

Polar's cup clattered on his plate over Yantes' indignant cry. Galen choked on his tea and almost dropped his cup.

Zana stared at Anto, then at Yantes. "We aren't pretending anything! I have no idea what he's talking ab..."

"I saw him standing on his own two feet yesterday!" Anto had risen halfway out of his seat, pointing an accusing finger at Galen. "Don't you deny it!"

Galen was still coughing and sputtering, shaking his head in denial. Zana slapped him on the back, trying to stare down Anto. It was harder than she'd thought; she could see the white in his eyes. You really could get mad with anger, she realized. She turned to Yantes.

"Yes, he was trying to stand up last night - we wanted to see if he could already put weight on his foot," she said. "But he couldn't, and he had to sit down again after a moment."

Yantes shook her head. "Why were you trying such a foolish thing? It's much too early to put strain on that injury."

Zana gestured at Anto. "We're aware that our presence is disturbing the peace here..."

"You're just making it worse with your impatience," Yantes scolded them. "A sprained ankle can take three days to heal, or three months - it depends on how bad the injury is." At Zana's shocked expression, she added soothingly, "I don't think Yuma's foot will need months to heal, Mila - but a few more days, for sure."

"The cow is sick now!" Anto roared. "I've said it from the beginning, but did anybody listen? You said the cow is my say," he yelled at Polar, who had sat with a stony face since the beginning of Anto's rant, "but when has it been my say? Every morning I have to kick their humans out of her box, or find they have stolen her straw..."

"They are forced to sleep on the naked floor!" Zana shouted, her own fury overriding her fear of the bulky and short-tempered gorilla, "It's freezing cold over there, I know it, I've been there last night! You told me you'd treat them right! Have they ever been anything else but willing? They are working hard, I can see how tired they are when they wash up in the evenings!"

"You don't get to interrupt me, woman!" Anto howled.

"Enough!"

Everybody fell silent as Polar slowly rose from his seat. Zana forced herself to take steady breaths; her heart was hammering against her ribs.

"You don't insult my guests under my own roof, son!" Polar's voice was too big for the small room; Zana saw Remo cower over his plate and found that she was ducking her head, too.

"You don't insult your father at his own table, either! Get your head straight on, Anto, or I'll do it for you! What reason would Yuma have to make your cow sick? I've worked with both his humans, and they are docile and diligent, and know that the cow is off limits to them. - Though the dark one needs a stronger hand. Jus' sayin'..." he added as an aside to Galen, before he returned his attention to his fuming son, whose clenched fists betrayed his fury despite his downcast eyes. "You're worried about the cow? Go and burn some offerings to the foremothers, and perhaps they'll look past your insolence and grant you a healthy bull calf."

He sat down, and Anto pushed away from the table, taking the dismissal as chance to flee the scene. He leaned down to Galen. "Rein in your humans," he growled, "because the next time I catch them near the cow, I'll kill them like rabid dogs!"

He closed the door softly behind him. Somehow, Zana found that to be the most frightening thing of all.

Polar reached for the whip and smacked it over the ox, encouraging it to strain against the plough once more. The whip didn't connect with the animal's back - not yet. Polar didn't believe in punishing an animal that was clearly doing its best to do its master's bidding; only rarely did they need the extra prompt of a little pain to use the reserves they otherwise wouldn't tap.

He struggled to keep himself from cursing. He'd never curse the soil, of course - that source of life, of food and home and abundance; but Mothers, it was so damn heavy, soaked with water like one of Yantes' old sponges, the soil sticking in thick clumps at his feet and the blade of the plough. It was the lowest of the fields Polar tentatively called his own, perpetually waterlogged, a nightmare to plough, destroying more than half of the crop every year: what managed not to rot away was dusted with mildew. The rest wasn't fit to sell; Yantes was ranting every year as she tried to turn it into preserve.

"Just dig a pit and turn it into a pond," Alan had suggested. "Breed fish in it."

"Gorillas don't eat fish," Polar had pointed out, incredulous that Alan wouldn't know such a basic fact. But the human had surprised him once again.

"No, but chimps do. You could sell them at the market, and since you'd be the only one, I'm sure you could get a good price."

As he was struggling through the mud, Polar turned the human's proposal over in his head. He couldn't find fault with it - he'd probably get more money out of a pond than out of a swamp. With Alan and the other human's help, they'd probably get it done in a few weeks. Polar sighed; he knew that his time with these working animals was limited, and had a hard time deciding where to use them first. Much as he'd have loved to call Alan over and be done with the ploughing, it would be foolish to do so - he'd be left with a dozen half-finished projects, and he couldn't count on Anto to help him with them afterwards.

Ah, Anto. He didn't want to think about Anto right now.

He was relieved when Yantes appeared at noon and brought him his lunch - and something for Alan, as he had told her to do. He was aware that he was getting too attached to the human, but he couldn't help it - he was so useful. And Polar gave the ox an extra sheaf of corn after a day like this, so why not reward the human, who had been digging the ditch for the upper wall all morning, too?

Alan was surprised, and pleased, and hungry. For a while, they were both too busy with their meal to talk much. After his first hunger was tamed, Alan jerked his chin towards the wet field.

"Still trying to part the waves?"

Polar grunted. "If I could afford you, digging that pit would be our next project. But you'll be gone before we'd get to that." He shrugged. "Well, it's something for next year... or the year after. When Remo is old enough to help me with it."

"Anto won't help?"

Polar coughed. "If he'd suspect the idea was from you, not likely."

"Hm." Alan took another bite from his sandwich and stared down at the field, where the ox stood harnessed to the plough, head hanging, probably glad for the break, too.

"Strange thing," he said after a while. "You can sow the best seeds, but if the soil doesn't want them, they'll rot away all the same."

Polar had the feeling the human wasn't just talking about the field he was still staring at, but didn't answer. He didn't want to talk about Anto today.

Alan gave him a sideways glance and decided to change the subject. "Anyway," he said, "I wonder if you're rotating your crops around here?"

They had a fascinating discussion about manure and crop rotation, and if Polar welcomed the pretense to rest a little while longer before returning to work, he calmed his bad conscience by reasoning that he had to make use of the human's head as much as his body in the limited time he had him.

"Your friend told my Remo that he learned how to build that new kind of fence from his former master," he told Alan. "Did you two have the same owner?"

Alan looked taken aback for a moment, probably wondering why he'd ask him that. "Uh, yes, you could say that," he finally said. "We had the same... employer before Yuma... took care of us. But before that... Did he mention which master he meant?"

"An ape named Lincoln," Polar said, and slapped him on the back, because Alan had choked on the water he was drinking.

"Ah, ah, yes," Alan gasped, when he had stopped coughing, "a, a great man... ape."

"Why did he sell you?" Polar wondered. He wouldn't sell Alan, if he owned him.

"Ah... he was killed," Alan said. "Shot."

"Shot? Not by an ape?" Polar was shocked. Ape didn't kill ape. That meant...

Alan shook his head and avoided his gaze. "No, not by an ape. He was shot by a human."

Polar cursed. Alan studiously stared at the horizon and took another sip from his jug.

"And your master Lincoln taught you all these things about farming?" Polar wanted to know. Alan shook his head and smiled.

"No, I really learned that from my father. Though where he learned it, I don't know. Perhaps he learned it from... a master." He rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "What I learned from... from master Lincoln was that all... all intelligent beings are created equal and should work together as equals." He met Polar's gaze. "Master Lincoln didn't believe in slavery."

"Hm." Polar didn't know what to think of that. Some apes did have strange ideas, especially those living in cities. Yantes said it was because they lived so far away from the earth; it did something to their heads. But the look in Alan's eyes was sad and distant, and Polar wasn't in the mood for deep musings right now. So he just said, "Is that why you don't have a brand?"

Alan stared at him blankly, and Polar gestured at his shoulder. "No brand, to show who's your owner."

The human blinked. "Yes, I suppose so. It never came up with... my current owners, either."

"Ah well, they're city apes," Polar waved dismissively. "They probably let you sleep in their bed, too."

Alan coughed and grinned. "No. I swear I always slept in my own, ah, corner."

"Well, you don't seem to be too screwed up, I'll give you that," Polar agreed. Then he looked at the sun and sighed. "An' here I'm chatting the day away with a human as if I was a city ape myself! Up, human! You have a ditch to dig! And I have a swamp to plough!"

Alan rose immediately, thanked him for the lunch, and went back to work. Polar trudged through the mud towards his plough and fervently wished for enough money to buy him off from Yuma. That city ape couldn't appreciate what he had in this human.

Polar couldn't understand how the Mothers allowed such a waste.

The sun was already climbing down from its peak in the sky, but the heat was still growing, the humid air thick and sticky like molasses. Uphill, the wheel of a pump creaked, or a cow blew against her hay, the only sounds breaking the silence from time to time. The air in the valley was glassy and unmoving; summer would choke the land too soon again this year, breeding mosquitoes and fever spells.

Loran thought that it was the perfect day for a little rest in the cool shade of a tree; but Bela had saddled him with their newest addition to the watch, and that meant he'd have to keep an eye on the rookie and show him the ropes, and somehow, Loran was sure that the chief wouldn't approve if he'd started their tour with introducing Mervan to all their little shortcuts.

Not that he'd have had a chance for that, anyway. Mervan had arrived fresh from the big city about a month ago, all shiny boots and snappy salutes, and had regaled them with quotes from the service regulations from day one. Loran supposed the kid was just eager to prove himself, but he found Mervan's zealotry exhausting all the same. Right now, he was forcing Loran to spur his poor old horse into a gallop, to "push the farmers off balance," as he had put it. Loran didn't see how crashing into the farmer's yard would help them find them humans, but he'd wisely kept his mouth shut. Let Mervan show them how it was done in the city.

And then they'd see how well that would go down around here.

The riders shattered the uneasy slumber of the farmyard like a stone smashing an earthenware pot, their horses clattering past the barn and almost climbing up the steps to the main house. Mervan jumped out of the saddle and banged a fist against the door, while Loran let his old mare walk around the yard to let her cool off.

"Open up! This is the prefect's watch!" Mervan shouted when nobody answered his pounding. "Open the door, woman! I know you're in there!"

He almost stumbled when the door retreated from his fist, opening to a frightened Gorilla face.

"About time!" He straightened up. "This is a search on the orders of general Urko himself! Two dangerous humans are on the loose, they may seek shelter or hide in one of the barns or stables. You are obliged to report any unusual sighting or incident." He fixed the woman with a piercing stare. "Anything to report, woman?"

The woman shook her head, wide-eyed. Mervan pressed on.

"You're sure of that? You know what you're in for, if you help those creatures? The same that'll happen to the criminal apes that helped them." He pointed at the tree in the yard. "Your feet will dangle from that tree, mother, after you stopped kicking, that is." He grinned when the woman started to whimper.

With a sigh, Loran dismounted and opened the door of the barn. At least one of them should be doing the actual work while Mervan was having fun on the expense of the poor woman; the sooner they were finished here, the better.

"So try that little brain of yours again, mammy," he heard Mervan behind him.

"No, no, don't..." the woman cried out.

Something big and angry shot out of the door with a head-splitting squeal, running Loran into the ground and startling his horse into a panicked run from the yard.

"... don't open that door," the woman finished. "We have Dulo's prize boar over for the sow." She put her fists on her hips. "You get him back into the barn right now!"

"The hell I will," Mervan snarled. "You can count yourself lucky if the watch doesn't send you the doctor's invoice for my comrade!"

Loran stumbled to his feet. He steadied himself against the barn door, clutching at his ribs; nothing seemed to be broken. Farther down the road, his horse had tangled its legs in the reins and was bucking sideways into the bushes, worsening its predicament.

Mervan growled and grabbed the reins of his own horse. He mounted up and jerked the beast's head around. "If you see something, report immediately." Without dignifying the Gorilla with another glance, he rammed his heels into the horse's ribs and galloped away, ignoring Loran who was hobbling down the road to where his horse had caught on the branches.

"What in the blasted zones is going on here?"

Ah, that had to be the farmer - the wife probably had sent out one of the kids for backup. Loran bent down with a little groan and began to untangle the reins of his horse from the underbrush, pretending not to hear the conversation going on a dozen yards behind him.

"Patrol. Said they're looking for some escaped slaves. They let out Dulo's boar."

The farmer let loose a string of curses, and Loran silently added two or three new ones to his own arsenal. "I dunno which one's the greater pest," the farmer said, when he was finally done cursing. "Them humans or them Chimps."

Loran led the horse to the middle of the road and climbed back into the saddle. His ribs were throbbing.

Yes, that young lad would definitely be an asset to the watch.