Link's Dilemma

Chapter 10

The elusive scent of lilac and wild roses slipped through the low-hanging branches, a cool indication of evening's swift approach, yet the calmness didn't offset Link's rigid nerves. A strange restlessness played with his heart, and a tension loomed in the air, consuming all his thoughts and feelings.

Everything had seemed perfectly normal when he had arrived at work. He and his boss Fado had exchanged casual greeting, no differently than they had every morning for years. Then they had made the customary rounds, feeding the livestock and pumping water from the old well out back, only stopping occasionally to make some witty remark or explain something important.

Fado was in his usual upbeat mood, and Link had felt fine, doing all these tasks without giving them a second thought, until it came time to saddle his horse Epona.

In the barn, an uncanny anxiety had sprung upon him, and even now, as he rode Epona around the corral, herding the last of the goats into the byre before nightfall, that same badgering emotion pulled tirelessly at his heart. He didn't understand it. As he played through his mind the actions of earlier, he came to no suitable conclusion. He simply was going crazy.

Two lavender-tinted clouds cradled the sun as it began its overhead descent, spreading its pink rays over the sky, but poor Link was too preoccupied to notice. His eyes drifted over the scenery, nothing of interest fixating his absent gaze. One ornery goat kept evading his commands, frolicking in the wrong direction every time he got near, but Fado, who stood watching from a distance, could tell that Link didn't have his heart in what he was doing. Link's pale face was very much evident, and Fado was no fool. He knew something was wrong.

"Ho! Link! Is sompting de matter?" he hollered finally. Link turned in the saddle, caught off-guard by the sudden voice disturbing his quiet thoughts.

"Ah…no. I'm just—" As he stumbled to reply, a flash of gold attracted his attention, and he glanced at the back of his right hand. To his astonishment, he saw his Triforce glowing, and it was flickering incessantly. In one swift instant, as if the sought-after answer had been whispered into his ear, Link understood what the unease in his soul meant, and his eyes grew wide. He yanked sharply on his horse's reins, and they shuddered to a standstill.

Epona turned her large head and peered inquisitively at her master, wondering at his recklessness. It was so unlike him, but Link was too upset to care. He gawked at his hand as if he were in a trance, and the world around him faded into a shiny blur.

Fado began racing over to him. "Link, you need help, buddy?" he asked, but Link made no reply. Only when Fado nudged his arm, did Link turn, his glistening, icy-blue eye filled with alarm.

"Zelda's in trouble…" he murmured quietly.

Fado faltered for a response. The first word that came to his mind was, "Again…?" but the distress in Link's expression made him think twice. Instead, he decided to state the obvious.
"Well, if she's in trooble you better go save har…" He nodded wisely as if this were a profound saying. For once, Fado made perfect sense.

"I got to go," Link said quickly. Spurring Epona into a rapid gallop, he rode past Fado and toward the gateway.

Fado stood scratching the back of his head as he watched Epona leap the gate and both she and rider disappear into the fine mist of evening.

…

The Ordon village welcomed Link with a gush of dread. A dark storm cloud circled overhead, and it seemed to be toying with his thoughts. Making a speedy arrival at his tree house, he bounded off Epona and bolted up the ladder. Finally, he laid a quick grasp of the doorknob and yanked, but it would not yield. He tried again, this time urgently, but it was locked tight. Zelda never locked the door, and this unquestionable knowledge hit Link hard. He peered in the window, searching for any signs of life, but the house was dark. The only thing he could distinguish was the opaque shadow of the fireplace chair—unoccupied. As a last resort, he began ardently hammering the door with his fist, but no one came.

As Link's mind finally caught up with his actions, he tried to convince himself that some inconsequential explanation would shed light on Zelda's unusual absence, but the facts seemed unfavorable. Since Link could remember, Zelda had always been home to greet him when he returned from the corral. The house would be bursting with the mouth-watering aroma of cooked vegetables and savory meats, and Zelda would smile lovingly, welcoming him with a quick hug and kiss, before gesturing him toward the table. She'd always try to make dinner a pleasant and effortless experience, knowing well that Link's job sometimes got overwhelming and he needed a little something to ease his overworked muscles. Only now, when the house was quiet and empty, did Link realize how much he appreciated and anticipated Zelda's devout attendance.

"Link?" a quiet voice interrupted his thoughts, and he hopefully turned toward the sound, but it was just his old friend Ilia, who stood resting one hand on the ladder, gazing up at him in concern.

"Ilia!" Link began hurriedly, "do you know where Zelda is?"

Ilia hesitated, shaken by Link's eager countenance and demanding tone. "Ah… she didn't tell you she was leaving?" She squinted in confusion.

"When did she leave? Where'd she go? Where's Cason?" Link pressed. Ignoring the ladder, he leaped from the deck and landed beside Ilia. His eyes glowed earnestly as he waited for an answer.

"I don't know…" Ilia wasn't sure what to say. Nervously, she twined her finger around her close-cropped brown hair. "I think she left around noon…like five/six hours ago. It was when I went to do some needed grocery shopping, and as I passed the tree house, I saw her and Cason fly down the ladder and take off toward the common. She looked pretty upset, so I didn't say anything, but I thought it strange that she was with some tall-looking fellow—"

"Who?!" Link interjected fiercely, his fists tightening.

"I don't know…" Ilia repeated. "I never saw him before. He was dressed up pretty oddly, with a dark suit and dark features—dark and handsome, I suppose one could say. But don't worry, Link, I'm sure everything's fine and she'll be back soon." Ilia smiled assuredly, but Link knew better.

"When has Zelda's disappearance with a dark stranger ever ended fine?" he remarked humorlessly. Ilia's smile faded. "Where was she heading. Did you notice?" Link continued.

"Well, let me think…" Ilia bit her bottom lip and wavered. Even in the midst of an urgent situation, she kept her wits about her, almost too well, but before Link began ripping his hair out, she made a reply. "Oh, yes! They went over to Mrs. Hashka's, I believe, and that's as much as I know."

…

Link pounded on Mrs. Hashka's door. After thanking Ilia for her service, he had straightaway gone where his next clue possibly hid. It took the old lady a minute to answer, but as soon as the door was opened, Link began his interrogation.

"Where's Zelda and Cason? Did you see them today? Do you know where they went?" His determination startled Mrs. Hashka, and she began to babble, which was her tendency when she got nervous.

"Well…ah…yes…you…she's…he's…they're…Hyrule." Her face flushed, and she looked about ready to collapse. Link did his best to calm his expression and steady his voice, repeating the question slowly, "Mrs. Hashka, do you know where Zelda and Cason are?" The old lady nodded.

"Zelda's gone off to Hyrule to help you, and she left Cason here with me. He's…" she turned, and her face instantly paled, but Link was too caught up in her words to realize her mounting panic.

"She's gone to Hyrule!" he yelped in disbelief. Mingled anger and surprise splayed his restless eyes, and he shook his head frantically. "No, she can't go there… They'll—" Whatever he was about to say was cut short by Mrs. Hashka's dreadful cry of shock.

"Cason's gone!"

This triggered Link's attention. He turned on her, his eyes seeking for a gap in her certainty, but the truth behind Mrs. Hashka's avowal could not be reformed. Cason was nowhere in sight! Mrs. Hashka rung her hands in desperation, her face flushed with terror.

"I left him right here in the grass, but that was hours ago! Oh, I am such a fool to forget him! It's all my fault!" she blubbered hysterically, big tears welling in her bloodshot eyes.

Link stood in shock. Usually, he didn't crack under pressure. Unimaginable feats posed no threat to his unfailing courage and strength, but this time, he alone wasn't the victim to imminent danger—his wife and son were. As he thought over the perilous fate possibly harming his separated family, a deep inward fear began to dishearten his heroic nature, but this was no time to think; this was a time to act.

"Mrs. Hashka, calm yourself," he ordered boldly. "You said that Cason wandered away from this area a few hours ago?"

Mrs. Hashka nodded, trying to sober herself, but she truly felt at fault for this great mishap. She always tried so hard to do the right thing, but too often she'd fail by making some unintentional blunder which potentially humiliated herself and others, but never in her life had she done something that conjured such dreadful consequences as threatening the life of a child. She couldn't bear the thought of Cason befalling any danger on her account, but amid the trauma, she tried to calm herself as Link had commanded. If she had any dignity left, she would hide it under her pride and face the music.

"Yes. He must have sneaked off about an hour ago," she answered, only a jot of her former passion swaying her tone. She gazed earnestly into Link's hardened features. "What do you suppose we do?" Link thought for a moment. His thoughts were jumbled, a lingering dread disturbing his wisdom, but despite his faltering judgments, he knew that solving this dilemma resulted in a choice between two people he loved dearly. Who to go after first—Zelda or Cason?

Finally Link turned to Mrs. Hashka with tenacity. "I need you to start a search party. I want every man, women, and child in the village searching for Cason. Check the houses, walkways, gardens—every nook and cranny. …And if he's not there…search the forest…"

"The forest!" exclaimed Mrs. Hashka, thinking of the treacherous twists the turns of the woody world surrounding the outskirts of their sunny village.

"Yes, search everywhere until you find him." Link's eyebrows were set in a straight line, and so was his resolve. Mrs. Hashka nodded, knowing not to question Link's bidding. She had already done enough harm, but there was one question she could not quite swallow.

"Where will you be?" she enquired. Link rested one hand on the hilt of his sword.

"I'll be rescuing Zelda, of course."

...

Mrs. Hashka wasted no time implementing the trifling formalities often expressed among the reposed village folk. The extreme situation motivated her to act divergent of her cautious nature. Once Link had gone, she raced into the village, calling out to all who might hear, "I need help! Everyone, come out, come out!"

In mingled surprise and alarm, two little boys who heard the forceful address from their seats beside the windowsill of their wainscoted bedroom, turned to gaze through the glass at the strange phenomenon taking place in the village common. Men, women, and children began to assemble around the red-faced Mrs. Hashka, some having heard her cry for help and willing to lend their services, some merely curious toward the reason for this rare commotion.

"What is wrong, Mrs. Hashka?" Rusl was the first of the growing assembly to address the prominent issue, while the others waited around, making no attempt to calm the despairing lady who had inconveniently interrupted their quiet evening. Instead, the older of the congregation, in discreet annoyance, began to mutter to themselves regarding the sanity of "old, unreasonable Mrs. Hashka," as if she were too consumed in her insensitive anxiety to hear their suggestive remarks; however, although beside herself with devastation at Cason's mysterious whereabouts, Mrs. Hashka clearly perceived the offhanded comments, each sending a pang of sorrow through her old, but enduring, heart.

"Does anyone care!" she cried out suddenly, starling the lethargic individuals into wide-eyed attention. "Cason, our own very dear youngling, has gone a-missin', and we'd be best to wake up our sleepy eyes and starting hunting for the little life! You knows it 'ud be best, a'fore the child is beyond saving!"

This information struck the crowd as though the very earth had fallen out of orbit. Among the people in the village, Cason had become more than "the blind child." He had become their best friend.

Cason's sweet character coupled with his misfortunate circumstances had evoked in the more nurturing women a strong sense of motherly affection, which impelled them to regard him with an open fondness similar, if not more conspicuous, than the adoration shown to their own children. When Cason was yet an undeveloped child, barely old enough to walk on his own, the ladies in the village had taken a strange liking to him. When they came to visit, they'd always bring either a pumpkin-flavored lollypop or a maple-flavored sugar stick to give to "the precious blind child" of whom they seemed so curious and mystified. Likewise, the men in the village were no less astounded at Cason's clever wits and optimistic nature. When Link used to carry Cason to the riverside to keep for company while Link fished, the other fishermen would gather around like thirsty travelers guided to the fountain of youth. Cason would never disappoint them. He'd respond differently to each of their questions, and his witty, yet intelligent replies, filled with so much meaning and innocence, perplexed the older men, who had long ago lost their intuitive imagination.

To hear that Cason, the gifted young man who had become more than a blessing to each person in the village, including the young ones who admired Cason as they would an older brother—to hear that he was missing startled them as if it meant the sun had lost its shine.

Suddenly the incredulous hush which had descended over the crowd was broken by an outbreak of voices shaken by the hysteria of an indwelling dread. Swaying like a tempest-disturbed sea, the mob roared their anxious comments, questions, and suppositions. Bits of information spread like wildfire over the congregation, countering their most pointed of inquiries, such as the location of Link and Zelda and how the misfortune of Cason's misplacement came to be. After such demands were rejoined, the universal "Have you seen him?" perched upon every brow, but no one could give their affirmative. Cason hadn't been spotted at the mill, the general store, the farm, the bakers, or the gardeners—in fact, no one had seen him that day at all!

It was if the young, cherished child had simply up and vanished. Others in the crowd, however, being logical fellows not soon overtaken by dismay, vowed to search the vicinity. Without waiting to be sent, they hurried off in differing directions, no strategy guiding their movements, only a blind panic. Mothers, who were left behind, held close their children as if they imagined the same wicked force which had taken Cason coming to capture their own precious ones.

Nearly forty-five minutes of this panic-driven search persisted before a conclusion was reached and accepted. The darkness of eventide had crept over the landscape, leaving the air cold and obscure. The villager's torches cackled quietly as they waited for the search party to return. Mrs. Hashka rubbed her hands together nervously, ignoring the unrelated blabber of the crowd, which had reduced to a few sociable ladies, mostly older and childless. Her heart undulated with an awful self-reproach, which consumed her thoughts and emotion. She had been placed in charge of a young child, dependent on her, and she had left it defenseless. No pain she had ever suffered could be compared to the dreadful agony an awareness of her own folly conveyed. The reason for her inability to have children was for the first time clearly understood. The goddesses had made it so, knowing Mrs. Hashka couldn't handle the responsibility. A cold, unshed tear lingered in her eye as she pondered these things.

Finally the search party was spotted approaching from the hills, their torches lifted high, like bright dancing stars against the black sky. Mrs. Hashka perked her head up, blinking away the tears and hoping in the deepest extremity of her spirit that the child had been found; but as the men's downcast faces came into view, she knew the terrible truth even before the men voiced their result.

"What do we do now?" Mrs. Hashka asked earnestly when the men had drawn nigh. "We can't leave him out there all alone in the night!"

"No, ma'am, we can't," began Fado gravely. "We'll just havta search the forest."