After all, it had only, to its unfathomable, unknowable way of thinking, been trying to help him.
XXI
It was not long after they had left the inimical fog behind that they encountered the procession of humans and apes. Trudging along a trail that crossed the river gorge from north to south, the procession was heavily laden with baggage, from household goods dangling from stout poles supported by two or more individuals, to blanket-wrapped infants riding on the backs of females.
They shied in terror at the sight of Ahlitah and Hunkapa Aub, and Ehomba had to hasten to reassure them. Their accent was thick and heavy, but with repetition and gestures each side managed to make itself understood. These were poor folk, the herdsman decided, simple and unsophisticated. Judging from the expressions they wore, their burdens were more than physical.
“Ehl-Larimar?” he asked of several individuals. After a number of inquiries a long-faced macaque clad in heavy overcoat and cap finally responded. Raising its long arm, it pointed westward up the canyon and nodded.
“Good. Thank you.” As Ehomba started past him, the ape reached out and grabbed his arm. Simna’s hand went immediately to the hilt of his sword, while among the column there was an anxious stirring. Primate hands fumbled for axes and clubs. Ahlitah growled low in his throat, his claws seeking purchase on the hard ground.
Ehomba hastened to calm his companions. “It is all right. He is not hurting me.” Glancing down, he saw that the macaque’s face was fraught with concern, not animosity. “What is wrong, my long-tailed friend?”