Ennis readjusted the shoulder strap of his bag while his bodyguard opened the gate to the human quarter for him. Zatis had tried to stop him from taking his homework to the healer's house, but Ennis had reminded him that his father had ordered him to supervise his human's progress, and as always, Zatis deferred to his father's decision, although this time, he had grumbled quite a bit.
To be fair, Taris couldn't really do anything yet, so Ennis couldn't start with the training. But he still could keep him company, and do his homework while the human was sleeping.
The healer had said that sleeping was the best Taris could do to heal; so Ennis didn't try to wake him when he was asleep, or keep him awake when he was nodding off. He often just sat there and looked at his new acquisition, trying to grasp the reality that this huge, odd-colored, and, if his father was right, wild beast really belonged to him now. So maybe Zatis was right, and he was distracted... just a bit.
For the last two days, the human's sleep had been fitful, though, threaded with nightmares that wound through his naps like bramble vines, thorny and sharp. Then Ennis would quietly rise from his table, tiptoe to the bed, and softly stroke the human's hair until his breath eased and his body went limp again. When Taris woke up, he never mentioned having bad dreams, and Ennis never asked him about it - maybe he had already forgotten them again.
Ennis adjusted his shoulder strap again as he hurried down the crooked alleys of the human quarter; the humans parted before him like water, giving him and the guard a wide berth. Hopefully, Taris would be in a better mood today, not brooding in silence and staring out of the window without really looking at anything.
The boy didn't knock when they reached the healer's house - he didn't have to, not for a human - but simply opened the door and let himself in, while the guard took up position at the threshold.
It was quiet and peaceful inside, exuding that special kind of soothing atmosphere that all healers, human or simian, somehow infused into their surroundings together with the scents of herbs and resins. The only sound was the soft murmur of the healer's voice, filtering out into the reception area from one of the sick rooms in the back. Taris' room. Ennis drew closer, careful not to make a sound. Humans never spoke freely in the presence of an ape. He was curious what those two were talking about when they thought nobody was listening.
"... so the great Cesar declared that if they preferred the Wasteland, into the Wasteland they would go; and no ape would follow them there and lay a hand on them. But if they returned, Cesar would kill them all."
Ennis smiled to himself. The legend of the White City was the humans' favorite fairy tale. Even the apes liked it, and since nobody believed in it anyway - not even the humans - they hadn't banned it. Ever since Laisa had begun telling the story to Taris, he had begged her to tell it over and over again. Ennis fleetingly wondered why he was so fascinated by it; maybe he remembered it, however faintly. Did wild humans tell that story to each other, too?
Well, at least it meant that Taris would be awake today. Ennis understood that the human needed the sleep, but watching him while he was getting it had begun to bore him.
He pushed open the door to the sick room, eager to talk to his human himself. Let Laisa continue that story later - it never changed anyway. "Hello, Taris," he said, interrupting the healer mid-sentence.
Taris turned his head to look at him, and Ennis was again fascinated by the color of his eyes. They were as blue as the sky... well, when it wasn't raining, anyway. He had never seen such a color in a human. Today, those eyes were a stormy blue-gray, much like the sky outside. But Taris smiled at him, that hesitant, lopsided smile of his, and struggled to sit up. "Hello, Master Ennis."
The healer silently retreated as the boy crossed the distance to perch on the edge of the cot. "How are you today? Feeling better? Does the brand still hurt?"
A shadow crossed the human's face at the mention of the brand, and his hand reached up to brush against the red welts at the side of his neck. "No... negligible," he muttered.
"That's good," Ennis beamed, but the smile was gone from Taris' face, and his gaze fell to his hands on the bedspread, then wandered to the window, avoiding him.
Ennis decided not to mention the brand in the future anymore.
"If the young master wants, he can take Taris out into the yard," the healer's soft voice spoke up from the door. "He'll get some fresh air and sunlight - it's rare enough at this time of year anyway - and that'll speed up his recovery."
Ennis jumped up from his seat on the bed. "That's what we'll do! Come on, Taris, we'll go into the yard!"
"He mustn't walk around, or do any exercises or games," Laisa warned as he led the human through the door. "Just sit still and enjoy the light and air."
"It's just a few more steps," Ennis encouraged Taris, "and then you can sit down again."
It was nice in the yard; the healer had a little garden where she grew medicinal herbs, and the small patch of land was surrounded by walls on all sides. Three of them were the walls of the surrounding houses, while the fourth shielded their little abode from an alley. It was like a room without a roof, with a small table and two wooden chairs pushed against the wall of Laisa's house; the sight reminded Ennis of his homework, and he hurried back inside to get his bag, feeling very mature and virtuous for his conscientiousness.
But apart from spreading out the scroll and wetting the nib of his quill, he didn't get much work done; just as Zatis had feared, today he was distracted.
"Why do you keep asking Laisa for that story all the time?" he asked Taris, who had turned his face towards the sun, eyes closed.
"I don't know," the human murmured without opening his eyes. "I just like hearing it."
Ennis pondered that. "Do you still have nightmares?" he asked after a moment.
This time, the silence stretched between them. Finally, Ennis had enough. "You can't know it, because you're a wildling," he said, "but if an ape asks a human something, the human must answer. Always. And he mustn't lie. That's the law."
Taris drew a long, measured breath at that, and exhaled just as slowly. "I... yes," he said quietly. "I still have nightmares. Laisa... tells me that story to distract me. It works, for some reason."
Ennis sucked in his lower lip and started chewing on it. The human's bad dreams worried him; he had no idea how to stop them. "Can you remember what you dreamed about?" he asked, but Taris shook his head. "Is it because of the branding? What was so bad about that? It was just a tiny moment of pain..."
"It's not the pain," Taris interrupted him. "It's... I don't know. It feels... feels... wrong." He opened his eyes and tiredly rubbed his face. "All wrong. As if it should never have happened."
"But it's just to tell other apes that you belong to us," Ennis said helplessly. They'd had that conversation before. "Otherwise, anyone could just claim you. And some apes are... not so nice. They wouldn't treat you as well as I do."
Taris gave him a quick, tired smile. "You treat me very well, Master Ennis. I do appreciate it."
Ennis smiled back. That probably meant that Taris wouldn't try to rip his throat out, as Zatis always feared. "I'll take good care of you," he promised the human. "And I'll teach you all the things. Nobody will dare to take you away - my father is the most powerful man from here to the badlands. Have you been to the badlands? They are up north."
Taris thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "If I have, I don't remember it."
"That's too bad." Ennis absently doodled on his scroll. "Because then you could've told me what it's like there. People just tell these stories about wild humans and monsters that live in the ground and come out to kill you... what?"
Taris was staring at him, his face suddenly pale. Ennis stared back in alarm. "What? What's wrong? Did you remember something?"
Then he saw that Taris was staring at something behind him; and now the human was leaning forward, trying to stand up...
Ennis twisted around in his seat to see what-
A human stood in the yard. Ennis hadn't heard him climb over the wall, or land in the patch of peppermint. He stared at the beast, his breath caught in his throat.
This one was a wildling. There was no doubt about it. Ferocity leaped from the tension of his lean body, from the hard line of his mouth, from the gleam in his dark eyes - eyes that were fixed on Taris as if he was seeing an apparition that would vanish if he so much as blinked.
"Al," the human said hoarsely. "You're alive." He gulped a breath, a quick rising and falling of his shoulders, and took a step towards them. "C'mon, let's get outta here."
Ennis swiveled his head to stare at his human, a terrible fear gripping his heart. Nobody could just claim Taris - he had his father's brand now!
But a wildling wouldn't care about a brand.
The dark-haired human took another step towards them and held out his hand. "C'mon, what are you waiting for? We've been looking for you for more than a week, we thought..." Another quick breath, as if the human was drowning. "I thought you were dead, Al," he said, and now his voice wavered a bit. "I thought you'd left me behind on this shithole of a planet." He swallowed and rubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes.
"Who... are you?"
The words were spoken slowly, hesitantly, as if Taris was trying hard to place this stranger; and suddenly, Ennis feared that of all the things his human had forgotten, this would be the one thing he remembered. He had to do something... he had to save his human.
Ennis jumped up and screamed.
"Guards! Guards!"
"Dr. Kova."
The lean Chimpanzee behind the desk let his gaze linger maybe a moment too long on Galen's freshly-minted papers of identification, and Galen forced himself to keep his hands still and his breath regular. The district chief had a certain sharpness about him, from his gaze to his movements, to the lines in his face, and Galen was sure that not much would escape this man.
Such as holding one's breath, for example.
The sheet had been immaculate when he had gently separated it from the molding block of what had once been official council paper - one of only two sheets that had survived the onslaught of the elements during their trek through the mountains. It had been a difficult decision to make, but in the end, Galen had decided that the papers of identification for himself and Zana had to have priority; ownership papers for the humans were worth exactly nothing if the owner couldn't legally identify himself.
He hadn't told Peet about it.
Voltis pushed his papers across the desk towards him with one of his quick, sharp smiles. "A pleasure to meet you, doctor. My apologies for letting you wait for such a long time, but my schedule is rather tight."
"I completely understand, District Chief," Galen said politely. "I appreciate that you still took the time to meet with a foreigner."
"Of course I would." Voltis leaned back in his seat. The pose didn't make him look any more relaxed; he was as alert as when Galen had entered his office, a wide, almost empty room, whose only decoration were two crossed flags covering the entire wall to Voltis' left - one for the Iron Mountains, the other for the Northern Borderlands, proudly declaring that Voltis was ruler of both.
"Chubla is the most important trade hub north of the mountains," Voltis continued. "It owes its wealth to the foreigners passing through it and exchanging goods here, so we regard them as honored guests and make sure that their needs and worries are being addressed, too. So what can I do for you?"
Galen smiled thinly and slowly rubbed his hands over his knees. He was absolutely certain that Voltis knew exactly why he was here - they had been asking around for Alan ever since he had fallen into the river, and yesterday, Peet had caused a riot in the human quarter when he had taken matters into his own hands again. Galen was sure that his sudden appointment in Voltis' office today was no coincidence.
"I lost my orderly to a landslide on our way here," he decided to get straight to the point. "His appearance is fairly unique, so we had no difficulties tracking him to Chubla - a light-colored male with some distinct scar markings on his chest. It's my understanding," he bowed slightly in his seat, "that your son found my human washed ashore at the riverbank, and took him back to Chubla to see a healer, for which I am eternally grateful. I would like to take him back into my own care, however - I'm a veterinarian myself - and of course I'd recompense you for all your expenses for your own veterinarian..."
He resignedly trailed off when Voltis held up a hand; he hadn't expected that this would be resolved without complications - one complication being that he didn't have any paperwork for Alan anymore.
"My son did bring home a half-drowned human," Voltis admitted with raised brows, "but that human had no brand anywhere. Dr. Ropal thinks it's a wildling, and after having inspected it, I'm inclined to agree."
"We didn't brand our humans," Galen said. "My wife is very involved with the human protection movement, and she thinks that it's an unnecessary cruelty to inflict on them."
"I see," Voltis said without inflection. "Well, let's go over its papers then, and I'll send for it."
"I'm afraid those papers fell into the river together with our wagon and almost all of our possessions," Galen confessed.
"Well," Voltis said, and Galen grudgingly admired him for not smiling triumphantly, "then we have a problem. How are you going to prove that this human is really your property?"
"As I said, he has scar marks on his chest," Galen repeated. "Very distinct markings, not from some badly-healed injury. My other human has the same markings - they are a pair, you see? They belong together."
Voltis skeptically pursed his lips and slowly shook his head. "Maybe they came as a set - maybe their breeder decorated them, or a former owner, if they aren't wildlings - or maybe they underwent some heathen ceremony together, if they are wildlings. But in no way does this prove that you own both of them."
"My other human can confirm that they have been living with us all this time," Galen said helplessly.
Voltis didn't even acknowledge that. The word of a human was worth less than nothing. "Maybe write to their breeder or former owner to confirm that they sold them both to you - have them send a copy of the receipt."
"They came from my wife's household," Galen muttered. "As far as I know, they've been raised on their estate." Zana would never let him hear the end of this; she hadn't mentioned the Book anymore since that one time immediately after the accident, but Galen was under no illusions that she wasn't still holding him responsible for Alan's fall. Returning to the back of the wagon a second time had cost them precious moments, he couldn't deny that.
As it was now, he couldn't force Voltis to release Alan. Not without papers. And it would be foolish to aggravate the most powerful ape north of the Iron Mountains.
"Well, then a copy from the breed registry," Voltis said curtly. "I'm sorry, doctor, but we're doing things by the book here. This far from the City, it would be all too easy to slacken the reins - and before you know it, corruption and nepotism would run rampant. I'm keeping my people on the straight and narrow, and I have a duty to conduct myself accordingly. I won't demand what I don't deliver."
"I understand," Galen murmured, and rose. "And I respect you for your integrity, Chief. I'll see what I can do to procure those papers. In the meantime... would you allow my other human to visit his friend? He is very distraught by his absence."
"The human belongs to my son," Voltis said with a slight shrug. "It'll be his choice, once Dr. Ropal has cleared the human for light exercise. I'll relay your request to my son, and let you know about his decision."
Galen bowed and turned to leave.
"Dr. Kova."
When Galen turned back to the desk, Voltis oddly light-colored eyes rested contemplatively on him. "Chubla is a good place to hibernate until the storm season has passed. You're welcome to stay as long as you want."
Galen bowed again. "Thank you for your hospitality, vetes. We will indeed need some time to regroup."
He softly closed the door behind him and slowly walked back to the inn, deep in thought. There was no way he could forge any of the documents Voltis had demanded - he lacked the official paper that was mandatory for all of them. And even if Alan got his memories back and declared that he belonged to them... or to Peet, at the very least, Voltis could just ignore it.
And he probably would, if what the Gorilla back in that village pub had said was true. Voltis' boy had latched onto Alan, and wouldn't let him leave, not voluntarily. And Voltis would protect his son's wishes.
They would have to break out Alan, and run... again. The question was where they would run - Voltis was the master of all the lands from the mountains to the northern wilderness, just like Urko ruled the South. It was not what Galen had planned for his and Zana's future; they had wanted to finally settle down, live a bland and unimportant and peaceful life, free of very special humans and their quirks that alarmed every official in a five-mile-radius...
Not to mention that this plan assumed that Alan would want to flee with them. But Peet had said that he hadn't even recognized him.
Galen raised his face heavenwards. We were so sure that all our problems would be behind us, if we'd only reach the North's safe harbor.
Welcome to the North - enjoy a whole new set of problems.
