When Galen returned to their rooms, Zana greeted him in a better mood than he had seen her for a long time.
And with a garishly colored piece of wood.
"Where did you get that?" Galen asked, taken aback. The thing struck him as familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had seen something like it before. He hoped she hadn't paid too much of their scant money for it.
"It's a gift, dear, don't squint at me like that," Zana said and lifted the thing up for him to have a closer look.
Galen took an involuntary step back. "A, a gift? Who..."
"Morla's daughter, Felga," Zana said and mercifully put the thing on the sideboard. "As a souvenir from our tour of her manufacture."
Galen raised his brows. "You mean she produces these things en masse?" He sat down at the table with a sigh and began to take off his shoes.
"Where's Peet?" Zana asked, as if she had only noticed his absence now. Galen pulled off his shoe with a little grunt.
"I found work for him with the local timber company," he said, and began to pull at the other shoe. "It's hard work, but they pay good money. I'll be able to pay our rent here, and for our food, without having to worry about being able to pay for your doctor's appointments on top of it. What did the doctor say, anyway?"
"It's dangerous work," Zana said, sounding slightly worried. "I heard of workers being crushed under falling trees..."
"He'll get a thorough introduction, I insisted on that," Galen assured her. He leaned back in his chair and wiggled his toes. "Alan, make some tea, please."
The human had been sitting in the far corner of the room, ostensibly focused on the leather in his lap. Now he put his work aside and rose without a word, or even looking at him. Sometimes, Galen wasn't sure if Alan was trying to placate him with his behavior, or if he was giving him the silent treatment. It irritated him not to know.
"Oh, yes." Zana began to dig in her purse. "Try this one, it's from Felga's tea house, it's delicious!"
"This Felga seems to be quite the entrepreneur," Galen remarked. "What else does she do, fix rooftops? Deliver the newspaper?"
"Actually, she does work for the newspaper," Zana said, and fixed him with a stern glare. "She writes the articles for the paper, though, she doesn't deliver it."
"So these other activities are some kind of hobby?" Galen didn't know what to make of this woman.
"No, they aren't 'some kind of hobby'." Now Zana was beginning to sound irritated. It occured to Galen that he should have stuck to making friendly, noncommittal noises instead of asking nosy questions.
"Felga and her friend Halda founded a charity some years back," Zana continued, rotating the wood piece a bit, so that its red-and-yellow-swirled side faced the room. "They take in humans who can't run in the races anymore. They give them work, so that they have something meaningful to do in their lives. And, well, to pay the bills, too. Felga said they don't get much in terms of donations, not enough to sustain the shelter, anyway."
"So they make these... what are they?" Alan dared to ask from his place at the stove. Galen glared at him, but Zana didn't seem to mind.
"It's a sculpture, Felga said. Something to decorate the room with."
"It's... striking," Alan said, and Galen snorted. That was probably the most diplomatic way to describe it.
"May I?" Alan nodded towards the sculpture, and Zana waved at him to go ahead. He limped over to pick it up, and turned it in his hands. "It's hollow," he murmured. "Is it meant for putting flowers in? But it's wood, you can't fill it with water..."
"A vase!" Galen cried out, and slapped his hand against his forehead. "That's why it was so familiar! My mother has the same... piece of, uh, art, and she always put dried flowers in it." Ann had always chosen an arrangement with lots of vines and cascading blossoms, to conceal most of the colored wood.
"They are selling most of it down South," Zana confirmed. "Felga was quite proud that they even have customers in the City."
Alan was still turning the thing in his hands. "There's an inscription on the bottom," he remarked. "True... simian... I don't know that sign..." He showed it to Zana.
"Genuine Simian Handcrafted Art," Zana read. Galen snorted again.
"With what you just told me, this thing is neither simian, nor handcrafted, nor art," he scoffed, "so I'm not sure you could call it 'genuine', either."
"In any case, it's serving a good and noble purpose," Zana said resolutely, and took it out of Alan's hands. She placed it back on the sideboard with a thump.
"Maybe that's why Ann bought it?" Alan suggested. "To support a good cause."
"Perhaps she would have, even, but she didn't buy it herself," Galen said dryly. "It was a, a present from Melvin's mother, so she couldn't get rid of it. I've seen them being sold at the market, come to think of it - they are really cheap. Not that that's the reason Vinia chose it," he added hastily. "I think she liked the, the striking colors. Melvin's family always had a faible for, uh, flashy things."
"Scoff at it all you want," Zana said, and sat down at the table, as Alan began to pour the tea for both of them. "But Felga has invited me for a bit of shopping, and drinking tea, and showing me the town tomorrow, and I'm determined to go." She sniffed, and blew on her tea. "I'm getting cabin fever in this room."
Galen flicked a glance at Alan's shuttered face, and held up his hands. "You'll hear no objections from me, Zana. I'll keep my eyes and ears open for any signs of approaching trouble, and you just, just enjoy yourself." Mothers knew she needed a distraction.
Felga might have a terrible taste in art, but maybe she was just the right medicine for Zana.
Keeping his eyes and ears open for approaching danger meant he had to be in a place where news would hit the town first, Galen had decided; that this place was the town's biggest pub wasn't his fault- it was owed to the majority of apes being woodworkers, who claimed their right to get due compensation for their backbreaking work in form of cider, games, and friendly Chimp ladies who rewarded their jokes and clumsy compliments with smiles and cheeky ripostes of their own. It was a good thing he liked keppa, and cider, Galen mused, or his mission would be a real strain.
He was careful to carry an assortment of Alan's smaller leather objects with him while he circulated the bars, to stay in his role as Faro the traveling salesman, and he had managed to sell a few knife sheaths that way, and had even placed a few appointments with workers who wanted to look at his tool belts. Something to show for, in case Zana ever questioned his methods of keeping watch.
He was careful not to lose too much money at keppa - he was a good player, so he had actually to be careful not to win too often. The solution was to drink just enough cider that he couldn't keep track of the changing values of the pieces so well anymore, and to stop playing once the losses had evened out his wins. His calculations had worked out so far; the other patrons saw him as a nice chap who wasn't especially good at keppa, or at holding his liquor, but who was selling pretty good leatherwares, and who didn't bow out when it was his turn to buy a round. They continued to play keppa against him, and shared all their gossip with him.
"I, I think this will be my last round," Galen said to the Chimp sitting across him at the table, and carefully stacked his sembles at the side of the playing board. "My wife will have me sleep in the stable if I lose all my money to you."
The other ape grunted, and began to sort his tokens. "Remind me why I never married. I'm getting all my fun with these nice ladies," he blew a kiss at the barmaid who was passing by their table; the woman winked at him and made a gesture as if pocketing the kiss. The Chimp chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "And when I'm done, I go home and nobody's bitching at me when I open the door." He sniffed and nodded towards Galen. "Don't forget to play, Faro-tal."
Galen tried not to flinch at the familial address, and quickly placed his first token. "She's not bitching at me... but I need to be able to pay for our food. We can't all live by cider alone."
"A good family man you are," the Chimp murmured, staring contemplatively at the yet empty playing board. He was the foreman of the working troupe Peet had been sorted into, and Galen was careful to meet him at regular intervals to keep informed about his human's performance. He had insisted on one free day in a quartermoon for Peet, but the human was tight-lipped when he was at their inn, and was mostly spending his time with training Alan's leg. Galen assumed he was trying to avoid Zana, who had developed a strange obsession with grooming him.
So far, the foreman had just shrugged and claimed that the human was following orders and doing its work like it was supposed to, nothing special to report. Galen was glad to hear that; he had been worried that Peet would get into fights with other humans, or even, Mothers forbid, with the ape overseers, or the guards. Ever since his capture, Peet hadn't been the most stable human around apes.
"So, how's my human doing, Marpo? Pulling its weight like it ought to?" he asked casually.
The glint in the foreman's eye made him sit up straighter. Had Peet gotten himself into trouble after all? It had been too good to last...
"Thought you'd never ask," Marpo growled, and Galen felt the last trace of alcohol evaporate from his brain. The Chimp leaned forward, and he involuntarily jerked back.
"You know what your human did?" Marpo asked. "Raced towards a falling tree, the fool, instead of away from it! Everyone else was getting out of the danger zone fast as they could, your damn beast crashed into a cub before the trunk fell on it, saved its sorry ass. But damn, 'twas a close call! I wouldn't have wanted to be the one to pay you compensation, if it hadn't made it." He shook his head and took a deep draw from his cider.
Galen grabbed his mug so hard that his fingers ached. If Peet had died, Zana would've... he didn't want to imagine her reaction. "He... it is unharmed?" he asked; he had to be sure.
Marpo set his mug down on the table with a thud, and nodded. "Cesar! I've never seen a human run so fast, and I've seen a lot of them in my life!" He licked his lips and stared at Galen, as if he was weighing his next words. "I've been wondering ever since... and I must tell you, Faro, that I took the liberty to examine your beast."
"E... examine?" What in the white wastes had that Chimp done to Peet?
"Yeah. Hope you don't mind. Racing is a hobby of mine, and I have a pretty good eye for humans with potential, if I say so myself. Can tell you from looking at their conformation if there's promise or not. It's the knees, you know?"
"The... the knees," Galen repeated.
"Yep." The ape took another draw from his mug, maybe to heighten the suspense. Galen felt like strangling him.
"Gotta be symmetrical. Humans with symmetrical knees are the fastest racers. There are other things to look for besides, but I don't wanna bore you. Anyway, I had your human strip and had a good look, and I gotta tell you, you're wasting its potential up there in the woods. As well as wasting your chance to earn good money with it."
Galen fought the urge to rub his face in despair; he didn't dare to ask how Peet had reacted to that order. "It's not for sale."
"Ah. Thought so." If Marpo was disappointed, he didn't let it show. "So here's my offer: I'll train that human, and we'll split the money it'll win in the next race. Trust me, it will make money," he added when he caught Galen's stare. "Maybe it won't make first place right away, but it will at least show - means it'll finish third. I'm not taking on losers."
"How much money are we talking about?" Galen said slowly.
If he'd had doubts before, they vanished with the sum Marpo named. Galen leaned back in his seat and did some quick calculations.
They were forced to stay here for a while, Nelva be damned, until Zana's condition significantly improved. That woman Felga also seemed to play a part in his fiancée's recovery, so the longer they could stay, the better. But there was no question that they would have to leave one day, to reach the safety of the Northern territories beyond the mountains, and be finally out of Urko's reach.
Then what would they do? They'd have to settle somewhere, build a new life for themselves, and for that, they needed money. Galen had no illusions that anyone would grant him a loan - he knew nobody north of the mountains who could vouch for him. He had tentatively planned on opening a veterinary practice, but even for that, he needed money. They couldn't live in a wagon forever.
"Fine," he said, and ignored Marpo's delighted grin. "You'll train my human, we'll split its prize money. But it'll keep its free day once a quartermoon, and I'll have the last say over its training workload. It will still have to work as a woodcutter, so if I see that you're overstraining it..."
"You're the owner, you have the last word," Marpo assured him. He held out his fist. "So it's a deal?"
Galen carefully unfolded his hand from the cider tankard he had been gripping the whole time, and put his fist above Marpo's.
"It's a deal."