THE LEGEND OF GANON: TYRANT'S ASCENT
Chapter 3: The Battle of Tantari
He could see sunlight wink off the spears and swords held by the people in the fortress. He turned Damnation around, toward his standing troops.
Ganondorf had kept his steed un-gelded because a stallion expressed raw male power, but he sometimes questioned the wisdom of leaving the beast intact because stallions were terribly difficult. At the moment, he was high-strung and was acting as though he smelled mares behind the fortress walls. Damnation had been well-broken, Ganondorf had seen to that – though in a way that would surprise most. The Demon King, notorious for his domineering nature and cruelty, dearly loved horses. Damnation and all of his predecessors had been given the best of stables and he was groomed constantly. If the slightest thing was amiss in the stable, the stablehand in charge of it for the day would suffer the brunt of his or her lord's rage. Ganondorf devised inventive tortures for anyone who did not keep his horse happy.
Night the Lynel came up beside him. "We should move in," he said. "I suspect their numbers are far fewer than they would have us believe. The fortress' defenses are poor."
Ganondorf's army was itching for battle and itching from the sand. They were in the Tantari Waste, a stretch of desert inhabited by one of the last tribes of Gerudo known to exist. The problem was, unlike the loyal circle of sisters that had brought Ganondorf back to the land of the living, the Tantari Tribe felt no need for a king. They followed a matriarch who called herself Esperanza. She claimed to be a descendant of the ancient Sage, Nabooru, but there was no way of confirming it. The Tantari Tribe, despite being shunned outside of their desert lands, held a strong allegiance to the Crown of Hyrule.
They had to be converted or crushed.
The tribe had ensconced themselves in a fortress partially hewn into a high cliff wall. The sand-colored stone and brick buildings in the cliff face gave Ganondorf a sense of nostalgia. The citadel reminded him of the place where he had grown up under the watch of his surrogate mothers and every Gerudo "sister" of his tribe. He remembered playing hide-n'-seek among the adobe walls and how everyone in the tribe indulged him in sweets, hugs and small lessons in thievery framed as games - except, of course, for his mothers, who were bent upon teaching him the value of strength. Being the legendary Gerudo male, he had a natural talent for sorcery that far exceeded that of anyone else in the tribe. Developing that talent had been a harsh process.
The dark king signaled for his troops to stay as they were while he rode forward. An arrow whizzed by his head to embed itself in the ground. He held up his hand in a gesture of passivity – something rare for him.
"I wish to speak," he announced.
A tall, well-tanned woman peered out over the rooftop wall of the center building and leaned upon its edge.
"What is there to talk about?" she shouted down, her voice full of snark, "I'm sure your tribe has told you that we don't want you as our king!"
"Hmmph," Ganondorf grunted. "It is my birthright to be king over all Gerudo. Come to your senses, Esperanza. Aren't we better united than divided? My forces have you outnumbered. I also bear Din's sacred essence. Hyrule Castle has already fallen."
"But you do not yet have the complete Triforce," Esperanza shot back. "You are still unbalanced! The Sage of Earth still lives and her soul thrives within the very sands! The powers of the Sages are on our side – on the side of all that would deny you! The Tantari Tribe shall fight you, down to the last woman if it comes to that! We will give everything to deny you!"
"Foolish child!" Ganondorf roared. I did not wish to destroy my kin, but I shall give you the death you so desperately desire!"
He flicked his wrist and his troops moved forward. Cavalry charged forth in the form of Lynels – red and blue, led by the rich black Night. Bulbins as well, upon their great saddled boars. The stupider and tougher ones butted into the cliff face, causing the rocks to rumble as if caught in an earthquake. Tantari tribeswomen fell from the shaking walls of their fortress to be hacked apart by waiting lizalfos and stalfos warriors.
Ganondorf's Gerudo warriors, the moblins and the goriya made haste with their siegeworks – ladders which they climbed. Many of the first to ascend had their skulls cleaved by the swords of the women inside the walls – but the onslaught could not be stopped.
"Master, I have discovered their livestock trail," said Night, reporting back to Ganondorf. "There is a trail on the far side of the cliff. It leads right up into the fortress."
Ganondorf "hmphed" and smiled wickedly before spurring his horse to follow the armored lynel. They galloped up a sloping trail and came up against a great, thick wooden gate. A pair of bulbins riding a large bulbo-boar outfitted with horned armor came charging through. It splintered the gate. Ganondorf shouted a war cry and entered under a curtain of arrows.
He cut down women on their feet and he cut a few off their horses within the inner ring of the citadel. As he beheaded one warrior, a memory flashed into his mind. For a moment, her appalled face was a different face – a Gerudo face, but the face of someone long-dead by now… someone he'd known as a young child.
"A cup of water for you, young sire."
Her head fell to the dust, the body standing for just a moment before it fell.
He jumped off Damnation and let the horse run. A Tantari woman charged him. He parried and ran her through.
"You shouldn't wander off like that in the middle of the day. See? You got sick. Now lay down here in the shade and let me take care of you."
Another.
"It's time for your magic lesson. Don't give me that face. Komue and Kotake won't have you lollygagging again. You showed me a wonderful trick yesterday – you'll learn how to do more than that. You need to become strong so you can be our king and bring us good things someday."
A Tantari wounded him – a minor cut. He cut her in half.
"Of course you'll be a great king, sire – the most powerful this world has ever known. You should shed no tears. You will lead us to prosperity."
A woman with a steel glare stood and aimed an arrow at him. He deflected it with a bolt of dark magic. Her gaze reminded him of Koume's when she was in a bad mood.
"You must be ruthless. Your enemies deserve no mercy. Even your allies can be used to your gain and put to pasture when they have outlived their usefulness. What is important is power. If our people are to rise and to take prosperity, we need a king who is as tough as a desert pig. We have no need of a man. You must become a demon."
Blood glanced off his sword. His armor was slicked with it and very little of it was his own. Unbidden, he thought to a time when he was a teenager and was part of a raiding party that was attempting to rescue some of his tribe that had been captured by a band of Hyrule's soldiers. He'd spied upon the soldier's camp. It had been a mixed-group, Hylians and round-eared humans. He'd seen a Gerudo woman being beaten by one of the Hylian men, in front of her daughter – for some of his tribe's children had been captured as well. The Hylian soldier had cut the woman's throat right in front of her young one. When the rescuers moved in, Ganondorf had made sure to take that man's knife and mingle his blood with that of the woman he'd murdered.
Ganondorf could not recall if that was the first time he'd killed someone – something that was not a bothersome insect or an animal for food. What he did recall was that, upon the return to his tribe's fortress, he'd been hailed as a hero for defending his kin with decisiveness. And, of course, he was told that he definitely would make the greatest of kings.
Ah, yes, that night was when they'd started treating him as a full king, with every right and privilege – at the age of fifteen. Although he'd smelled of blood, he'd lost his virginity that night, since he'd been given his choice of young women in the tribe to please him.
"You have avenged our kin today, young sire. A great king defends his people, even at cost to himself."
The din of battle had died down. There were still shouts and grunts, but everything was much softer, a sort of disturbing quiet. He looked down at one of his people at his feet, eyes open, mouth agape, blood flowing languidly from her unmoving chest, trickling between her breasts and down her sides to the ground. She looked a little bit like his first lover, as best as Ganondorf could recall and he wondered, briefly, if she was a descendant.
He looked out over the fortress grounds. The walls were painted red in patches – with some swaths of green and black – the varying colors of the blood of monsters. Bodies lay everywhere – moblins, lizalfos, a stray darknut or two, goriya and the broken bones of stalfos the defenders had the good sense to set black powder to. There were many dead among his kin, among those kin that would not bow to him. From what he could see, all of the Gerudo of his own side were alive – some were wounded, but none were dead. It was as if the Tantari Tribe had refused to kill any of their own, at least among the "sisters." It was very clear that those he'd fought were after killing him.
"A great king defends his people, even at cost to himself. Of course you'll be a great king, sire – the most powerful this world has ever known. You should shed no tears. You will lead us to prosperity. You need to become strong so you can be our king and bring us good things someday."
"Enough!" Ganondorf growled to himself. He bowed his head and whispered, trying to drown out the echoes of his memory, "It had to be done. They merely received the due punishment for treason."
"It is not treason if the so-called king destroys his own people and is found unworthy."
Ganondorf looked up and turned to the voice he'd heard behind him. "Esperanza."
She was sweaty and bleeding from shallow cuts. Her scimitar was painted in the black blood of magical beasts. She just stood there, looking at him, her face stoic.
"You are the only one left, aren't you?" Ganondorf asked, a little smirk curling the corners of his lips. "Traitor though you are, you may make amends by joining my little family. I like your build – very strong. I can think of ways in which you can repent unto me."
"It would be a greater honor to be killed by you."
"What a foolish little girl. You would choose death over life?"
"I choose a warrior's death."
With that, Esperanza rushed in upon him with her scimitar aimed at his stomach. Ganondorf reacted quickly, spinning the blade off the Sages' Sword, which he thrust through her heart from the back.
The body slid off easily. She looked up at him one last time before her eyes went dull. The clatter of horse-armor sounded behind him.
"Your enemies here have been utterly destroyed, sir," Night reported.
"What of the casualties among my assets?" Ganondorf inquired.
"We have been halved, my lord," the lynel knight said with little passion. "Much of your magic work has been undone. Several of my people have been killed. Your horse is alive and well. Among the half that lives, many are fleeing – slipping into the shadows – even among my own people. You have not many left on your side, sire, at present."
"They shall just have to lurk in the shadows, then, like the cowards they are. I wish to have my minions deployed to populate the land – just in case a Hero shows up. I can resurrect what I need without cease. I think I shall take the Sages on alone. Leave the unreliable minions to the land. I need to destroy the Sages one-on-one if I am to take what rightfully belongs to me. If a fraction of their power was among this tribe, I need to break that power with my Power."
"Sir?"
Night noticed the way Ganondorf was looking at the fresh corpse of Esperanza.
The Tantari Tribe, though foolish and doomed, had fought with exceptional bravery. They had died like true warriors. While Ganondorf loved and respected power above all else, he was not one to be called a coward. If there was one thing he respected almost as much as he did power, it was courage. They were close in kind, in a way. He often thought of the Courage aspect of the Triforce as a mediator between Wisdom and Power. It would come as a surprise if he'd told anyone – but he actually respected Link to a degree, in all his incarnations, on the grounds of sheer guts. He'd never let the Hero know that, though. The simple fact that it was Ganondorf's place to crush the courageous did not mean that he did not respect the courage those people had.
"I have immediate orders," the warlock said. "I want each and every member of the Tantari Tribe to be given a proper burial. The moblins and the bulbins are not to eat them. They are to be given warrior's graves."
"What, sir?" Night choked. "Aren't such honors too good for your enemies?"
"They may have committed pointless suicide by my hand, but they are of my people," Ganondorf replied. "A king is to take care of his people."
