yards.
“But our time was coming. As the city grew, the green spaces were swallowed up, and the rhesus were pushed off their lands. True to form, they turned nasty.
“They started to attack humans. Marauding bands of rhesus monkeys would roam the streets, biting and scratching. Some specialized in attacking eating places—they would gather on the rooftops and swoop down on a café, overwhelming the humans with teeth and claws, defecating on the tables, stealing as much food as they could carry.
“The humans started to live in fear of the rhesus. But they couldn’t lift a finger to stop them. Why? Because among the many gods the humans worship is a monkey god.”
Tyrell could see the surprise on the cadets’ faces. He smiled indulgently. “I know, it seems incredible. To be honest this god is an abomination—half human, half monkey,” he laughed patronizingly. “It’s nonsense. But it’s nonsense that humans take very seriously. And because of this monkey god, they couldn’t strike back at the thugs.
“So the rhesus grew even bolder, until one day a wild gang of them descended on the home of a human leader. Hordes of them streamed out of the trees and ransacked his house. Terrified, the man staggered onto his balcony to call for help, but the rhesus rampaged after him. They started biting, gouging their fingers into his eyes….”
Tyrell paused for dramatic effect as he recalled the horror of the attack. “The poor human never stood a chance—blinded and mauled, he fell from the balcony…smashing down onto the street below.
“The humans wanted revenge, but their holy men warned, ‘The great monkey god will get angry if humans harm the rhesus!’
“So they turned to us, the langur, as there is nothing in their religion that forbids monkey from punishing monkey. The humans had always ignored us because we were warlike and aggressive, but now those very qualities were what they needed.
“And so one morning the holy men arrived with their tribute—plates of the most delicious fruit. And when we’d eaten, they took us to the home of the human leader. It was overrun by the rhesus savages. The smell of them was everywhere, their raucous screeches filled the air, their vile little bodies scurried over the house like vermin. The holy men led us into the grounds and shut the gates. We were on our own, monkey against monkey. Langur against rhesus…”
Tyrell paused, savoring the anticipation on the cadets’ faces. “The Battle of the Palace has passed into troop legend. Each hero has his own story, so you don’t need me to add another. But let me just say this: not only were we heavily outnumbered, but we occupied the inferior ground. The rhesus held the roof; we had to fight from the gardens, which put us at a grave disadvantage. But Lord Gospodar held his nerve, drew on langur discipline.
“We deployed the troop’s best throwers to the front of the house, from where they mounted a bombardment with rocks. The rhesus replied with a barrage of objects pilfered from the house, but we held our positions, refusing to retreat.
“With the rhesus distracted by the missile attack, a squad of langur volunteers climbed a bank of trees and dropped onto the roof. Arming themselves with makeshift clubs, they started to fight their way down through the house.
“Those heroes had to endure bitter fighting, but for every one of ours that fell, three of theirs were killed. With the rhesus now fighting on two fronts, Lord Gospodar himself drove the final, decisive move.
“He led the elites across the gardens. Then, pretending to be wounded, we collapsed on the lawns. The rhesus were in such a murderous frenzy, they stormed out of the house to tear us apart with their teeth.
“Imagine their surprise when we leaped up, clubs in hands, and started lashing out. Skulls were smashed, limbs broken, eyes gouged! The rhesus tried to retreat, but we had encircled them. While some of the elites finished them off, the
“But our time was coming. As the city grew, the green spaces were swallowed up, and the rhesus were pushed off their lands. True to form, they turned nasty.
“They started to attack humans. Marauding bands of rhesus monkeys would roam the streets, biting and scratching. Some specialized in attacking eating places—they would gather on the rooftops and swoop down on a café, overwhelming the humans with teeth and claws, defecating on the tables, stealing as much food as they could carry.
“The humans started to live in fear of the rhesus. But they couldn’t lift a finger to stop them. Why? Because among the many gods the humans worship is a monkey god.”
Tyrell could see the surprise on the cadets’ faces. He smiled indulgently. “I know, it seems incredible. To be honest this god is an abomination—half human, half monkey,” he laughed patronizingly. “It’s nonsense. But it’s nonsense that humans take very seriously. And because of this monkey god, they couldn’t strike back at the thugs.
“So the rhesus grew even bolder, until one day a wild gang of them descended on the home of a human leader. Hordes of them streamed out of the trees and ransacked his house. Terrified, the man staggered onto his balcony to call for help, but the rhesus rampaged after him. They started biting, gouging their fingers into his eyes….”
Tyrell paused for dramatic effect as he recalled the horror of the attack. “The poor human never stood a chance—blinded and mauled, he fell from the balcony…smashing down onto the street below.
“The humans wanted revenge, but their holy men warned, ‘The great monkey god will get angry if humans harm the rhesus!’
“So they turned to us, the langur, as there is nothing in their religion that forbids monkey from punishing monkey. The humans had always ignored us because we were warlike and aggressive, but now those very qualities were what they needed.
“And so one morning the holy men arrived with their tribute—plates of the most delicious fruit. And when we’d eaten, they took us to the home of the human leader. It was overrun by the rhesus savages. The smell of them was everywhere, their raucous screeches filled the air, their vile little bodies scurried over the house like vermin. The holy men led us into the grounds and shut the gates. We were on our own, monkey against monkey. Langur against rhesus…”
Tyrell paused, savoring the anticipation on the cadets’ faces. “The Battle of the Palace has passed into troop legend. Each hero has his own story, so you don’t need me to add another. But let me just say this: not only were we heavily outnumbered, but we occupied the inferior ground. The rhesus held the roof; we had to fight from the gardens, which put us at a grave disadvantage. But Lord Gospodar held his nerve, drew on langur discipline.
“We deployed the troop’s best throwers to the front of the house, from where they mounted a bombardment with rocks. The rhesus replied with a barrage of objects pilfered from the house, but we held our positions, refusing to retreat.
“With the rhesus distracted by the missile attack, a squad of langur volunteers climbed a bank of trees and dropped onto the roof. Arming themselves with makeshift clubs, they started to fight their way down through the house.
“Those heroes had to endure bitter fighting, but for every one of ours that fell, three of theirs were killed. With the rhesus now fighting on two fronts, Lord Gospodar himself drove the final, decisive move.
“He led the elites across the gardens. Then, pretending to be wounded, we collapsed on the lawns. The rhesus were in such a murderous frenzy, they stormed out of the house to tear us apart with their teeth.
“Imagine their surprise when we leaped up, clubs in hands, and started lashing out. Skulls were smashed, limbs broken, eyes gouged! The rhesus tried to retreat, but we had encircled them. While some of the elites finished them off, the
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