Principatus, Chapter XI
The Ten'al-tarian Royal Family's long history was littered with dysfunctions, none more thoroughly documented than the endless tradition of hatred between fathers and their sons. Czar-Tyran murdered his eldest son because he favored the second. Zel-Gassan claimed the crown by locking his father in a dungeon with a dragon, and Czar-Goten killed his son because he fell in love with his son's mistress. No hatred, however, ran deeper than what the current czar had felt for his late father, Czar-Mon.
Taren knew the story well. Thirty years ago, early in Czar-Mon's reign, an exiled Sheikah came to Ten'al-taria and spoke of the Gerudo's growing discontent with the monarchy. If there was any trait more deeply rooted than murder within the Royal Family, it was hatred for their neighbor to the southeast— the prosperous kingdom of Hyrule.
After speaking with the exiled Sheikah maiden, Czar-Mon met with the the Gerudo King, Lord Mohadaggad Dragmire, and agreed to support the rebels in return for a claim to half of the spoils of victory. He wanted to see Hyrule burn, and he wanted its ancient power - the power of the Goddesses, long rumored to dwell in the holy land.
As agreed, Czar-Mon supplied the Gerudo with weapons and warriors while he bode his time in the mountains, waiting for the hated Kingdom of the Gods to weaken. Finally, after years of resistance, the rebels discovered a secret catacomb beneath the city, and Czar-Mon decided the moment to strike had arrived. They used the passage to raid the castle. While rebels pillaged and plunged the white stone halls of Hyrule Castle, Czar-Mon captured the queen and made off with her in secret to claim his prize— the Power of the Goddesses.
Czar-Aran hated his father for being such a fool, for trusting the rebel forces to hold while he squabbled with the queen for the keys to the Door of Time. On his death bed decades later, Czar-Mon confessed that he had been blinded by his thirst for power, and thus too weak to retain the Triforce. Aran hated his father for his weakness. He hated being associated with it, and he hated the disgrace his father brought down upon their kingdom.
For decades following the Battle of Hyrule Castle, the Ten'al-tarian people clamored for Aran to rise to the throne, but to everyone's anguish, the washed-up old sovereign lived another thirty years. Aran, however, was not bitter. As much as he hated his father, he saw the latter years of Czar-Mon's life as valuable time to concoct his own plan that would succeed where his father had failed.
Aran had a theory. His entire scheme hinged upon it. After the Hero of Old used the Goddesses' power to unite the lands above and below the clouds, he sealed it away. Only the Royal Family of the new earth, and their guardians, the Sheikah, would know bits and pieces of the story. This plan worked for centuries— until one of the Sheikah turned against the peace. That Sheikah's name was Sachdev— father of the Ten'al-tarian people.
Aran believed that the king of Hyrule, in Sachdev's day, had the Sheikah leader executed and his followers banished not because Sachdev coveted the Triforce, as countless of others had before him, but because the Sheikah lord actually amassed the power to do so. To restore Ten'al-taria to glory, the power of their lord Sachdev had to be restored. Czar-Mon had been unfit to claim the Triforce because he was too weak to wield such a power. Aran understood he needed power to wield power.
That was why they came to Hyrule.
Zel-Taren sat in the darkness of his cell below Hyrule Castle. He closed his eyes, and listened to the other prisoners' moans, the patter of rats on the stone floor, and the steady drip, drip of water leaking from a crack in the wall.
Considering his circumstances, he felt rather at ease. He was used to darkness. Even when the sun shone on Ten'al-taria, the rays were cold and weak. The smell of mold and rotting flesh he could deal with for a time. He knew his father would come for him, and it wouldn't be long.
Taren did not hate Czar-Aran, though he often felt his father resented him. The prince was skilled with the sword, well-learned in magical arts, and considered the best horseman in the kingdom. Nevertheless, a disconnect between father and son had always existed. For all of the prince's valued qualities, he preferred to read and spend time alone in his study. Aran equated Taren's shyness to weakness.
More than anything, Taren desired to please his father. And so, when the plans had been laid, the prince had agreed to be the one who would murder the king.
Taren couldn't wait until his father came to free him. He couldn't wait for the czar to look upon him with affection and pride for how successful he had been. The prince thought back to the night of the murder and smiled. He remembered waiting as the nurse presiding over the sick ward was coaxed from the hall by the foolish Hylian henchman. He remembered how the poisoned knife pulsated in his palm as he lurked in the darkest corner of the room, anticipating his father to enter with the king.
Some might call Taren a coward for ambushing the king and denying the old man a chance to defend himself. Taren, however, liked to think of his tactics as the ultimate power. Knowing that the enemy walked blindly to his doom and that he, Taren, was the only obstacle standing between him and death; knowing that for a moment he literally held a man's life in his hands— that was power.
He recalled the look of pure disgust that Zelda shot him as he laughed over the old king's deathbed. What a fool she had been for not accepting his hand!A wicked snicker escaped the prince's lips as he thought of the Princess of Hyrule. She was so unlike the women of Ten'al-taria— strong-willed and independent, with blue, soulful eyes and hair like the sun. If the goddesses had been mortal, they would have no doubt looked like her. Her only flaw was pride - the downfall of many great men and women before her. She had been too proud to accept his hand when he offered it in peace, and now her kingdom would suffer. Zelda would come crawling back to him begging for mercy as her pathetic army lay strewn across the blood-soaked plains.
Zel-Taren closed his eyes. He could see it as plainly as if it were happening right then. The powerful princess, brought to her knees by Ten'al-taria. She would beg him to spare her people, she would beg him to spare her life...
Then he, Zel-Taren of Ten'al-taria, would have both her allegiance and her kingdom.
He stood in front of a stone door carved with a symbol like the rising sun - the Door of Time.
"It's the only way..." a voice whispered. It seemed to emanate from all around him.
"Who's there?" Link called as he spun around trying to locate the source of the disturbance. "Show yourself!" His bellow echoed through the empty nave. Black tapestries hung from the walls and adorned the altar behind him.
"You know this to be true..." the voice echoed again.
"Know what to be true?" Link huffed, growing frustrated. "What's the only way? Only way for what?"
"The only way..." the voice said again, growing fainter.
Link pressed his ear against the Door of Time's cold, rough surface. A chill ran down his spine. He could have sworn the voice was coming from the other side of the door.
Suddenly, the sound of grinding stone filled the nave. Link leapt away from the door as it slid away, revealing the narrow arched corridor beyond. The hairs prickled on the back of his neck and his palms dampened. He sensed danger.
The door came to a grinding halt and the path ahead appeared clear, illuminated by a heavenly glow in the spacious domed chamber beyond. Link's legs carried him instinctively toward the hexagonal dais in the center of the room.
"The way..." The disembodied voice sounded louder.
Link's eyes grew wide with excitement as he stepped up the dais and drew level with a blade wedged firmly in a stone pedestal— the Master Sword. Light gleamed off of its indigo hilt, and its sleek blade glowed with a holy blue light.
Link reached for the sword. His fingers twitched eagerly, wishing to grasp the hilt once more...
But before he could reach it, the walls of the basilica began to quake with an unnatural might. A deep throaty laugh filled the circular chamber. Link wheeled around and came face-to-face with the unblinking glass eyes of the hooded figure. He twisted the blood-red jewel in his long, pale fingers.
"Who are you?" Link demanded, but the figure only continued to laugh. The glass eye reflected deep hues of blue, red, and violet.
"I will stop you!" Link shouted. "Whatever you're after, I will never let you—"
The man's laugh stifled Link's threat. A pool of blood formed at the stranger's feet and spread outward rapidly until it completely surrounded the young Hylian. The walls of the Temple of Time melted away, leaving Link and the mysterious figure alone in the sea of blood.
"What in Farore's name?" Link gasped. Blood stretched out as far as he could see. The hooded man hovered inches over the deep red surface.
"You will never..." Link began to say, but his words were drowned out by the sound of screams— ear-splitting, high-pitched cries of terror that made his blood run cold.
The last thing Link saw was a flash of red... but the screams remained.
Link's eyes shot open. Sweat matted the hair on the back of his neck to his head, and he gasped deeply as his heart rate returned to normal.
"You're awake," a husky voice called from across the room.
Link rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the gray morning light. Two maids fluttered through the room fluffing pillows, drawing back curtains, and dusting everything in sight. A dark silhouette approached him.
"We must get you ready for the council meeting this afternoon." It was Impa. She stood before him, arms crossed, tapping her knuckles patiently against her forearm.
Link groaned as he straightened up. He'd fallen asleep in a chair at Zelda's bedside. His stiff neck cricked as he rolled his sore shoulders back.
"Is everything all right, young hero?" the Sheikah asked. Her crimson eyes locked onto him.
"Yeah..." He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "Just another dream."
"I see," the Sheikah said. "Would you like to talk about it?"
"No," Link stated suddenly. "Not right now. I'm still..." He paused, thinking about his words, "I'm still thinking it over. Let's get through this meeting first."
"I'm sure you know what's best, Hero." Impa fixed him with a worried glare but questioned him no further.
An hour later, after being forced to change out of his dirty green tunic, Impa escorted Link toward the Great Hall to await the start of the banquet. A noisy crowd gathered around the bronze doors at the entrance.
"Hello, Link!"
The young Hylian heard his name through the clamor. Sir Dryden de Vaux was making a beeline toward him. The knight's shaggy brown hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, and he wore an emerald surcoat like Link remembered from the banquet. The symbol of Faron was emblazoned onto the chest in gold thread. Link fixed him with an inquisitive stare. The feeling he knew the young knight from somewhere gripped him once more.
"I believe you met Sir de Vaux yesterday, Link?" Impa said over his shoulder.
Link muttered a quick "Yes," and continued to rack his brain, trying to match the knight's face with some piece of his past.
"Thought I'd see you here," Sir Dryden said cheerfully as he neared Link and shook his hand. "You'll be sitting with my family when the meeting starts. Mistress Impa asked me to keep an eye on you. Council meetings aren't your cup of tea, eh?"
"Not really," Link shrugged.
"You know his family," Impa insisted. "The de Vaux's are good people."
"Thank you, ma'am." Sir Dryden smiled and puffed his chest out proudly.
Impa nodded in response before turning back to Link. "Unfortunately, I must leave you here," she said in a low tone. "The queen needs my attention."
Link nodded and thought about how anxious Zelda must have felt. "Go, Impa," he murmured. "I'll be fine."
Without another word, the Sheikah bowed her head and turned to leave. As Link watched Impa's dark profile disappear into the swelling crowd, Sir Dryden chuckled. "So you're the talk of the castle today, mate." He thumped Link on the shoulder, sending the young Hylian stumbling backward under the surprising force of the knock.
"What? Why?" Link stammered and massaged his shoulder. He flushed with embarrassment at the thought of a bunch of noblemen and women talking about him.
"Because," Sir Dryden continued, "the queen seems to trust you as much as she does Mistress Impa, and that's saying a lot."
"But why is that anyone's business?" Link exclaimed, growing defensive.
"The queen's business is everyone's business," Sir Dryden pressed. "Or at least they think it is."
Link eyed Sir Dryden with unease. The knight had been raised around the court, so all the talking that nobles seemed to do didn't strike Sir Dryden as unusual. Link, however, had been brought up on secrets, lies, and veiled truths. He learned through experience to operate out of sight and mind and therefore avoid unnecessary questioning.
"That doesn't seem right," Link finally mumbled and folded his arms across his chest.
"It's not," Sir Dryden stated flatly, "but it's the way things work around here. See, no one knows a thing about you, only that you suddenly showed up out of nowhere on the eve of the banquet and have some close connection to the queen."
"Sir Dryden, I mean no disrespect." Link voice rose. A hint of irritation crept into his tone. "But I can't tell you why she trusts me so much. I've known her since we were kids—"
"Look, I'm not trying to pry," the knight interjected defensively. "Your business is between you and Her Majesty. I just wanted to give you a heads up. You need to be on your toes around here," he calmly continued. "Court is a dangerous place."
"Well, err..." Link ran his fingers through his hair. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it." Sir Dryden's eyes shifted uneasily before he clapped his hands and shifted onto another subject. "Anyway, since you've obviously never sat in on a High Council meeting before, let me fill you in quick."
As they weaved their way through the crowd, Sir Dryden began to ramble on about council procedure. "There's eight voting members, nine including the queen," the knight said, gesturing rapidly. "They'll sit at the long table in the middle of the room. The rest of us will sit in the surroundings pews as non-voting nobility— barons, marquises, and the like— as well as few knights and members of the household." Link listened, eyes wide, to the words Sir Dryden spewed, but wasn't sure how much information he actually retained.
"Only speak when spoken to. Actually, don't speak at all." He turned to Link and laughed. "Do that and you'll be fine. Got it?"
"Got it." Link gulped. He suddenly felt nervous— the same fish-out-of-water feeling that consumed him before the banquet. Everywhere he walked, heads turned and whispers followed.
"That's the kid from the banquet..."
"Remember the dance?"
"Lady Veronica told me he was with the queen all night."
"I wonder what they could have been talking about?"
"I wonder what they could have been doing..." An elderly woman with a pink cap and veil pinned into her curly white hair eyed Link suspiciously as she passed, but no one addressed him directly.
"That's Lady Gytha d'Auvrecher, the Marchioness of Ashleigh," Sir Dryden muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "She's a right batty old maid. Her husband was a real social climber. Everyone knows he married the old crow for her title. Died in the bed of another woman. Anyway, our pew's at the end of the hall."
Link's head was spinning. He nodded and followed the young knight as they painstakingly maneuvered their way through the crowd. Once they broke free of the group, however, a few familiar figures caught Link's eye and his nerves evaporated instantly. Darunia, the Big Boss of the Gorons, Princess Ruto of the Zora, and Nabooru, the leader of the Gerudo sat along one side of the long table in the center of the room. Joining them was Lord Gustaf from Ordon, and three regally-dressed figures Link didn't recognize.
"Link!" Darunia's gravelly voice boomed. His wide grin and sparkling eyes softened his rocky exterior. Link smiled and waved as he shuffled through the pews behind Sir Dryden.
"You seem to have some friends on the council, Link." Sir Dryden observed, brow raised in surprise.
Link wasn't sure what the knight meant to insinuate. "Umm..." He shrugged. "Sure, I guess."
"The Duchess of Lanayru hasn't taken her eyes off you since we got here." Sir Dryden choked on a laugh and indicated toward Princess Ruto. She giggled and flapped her fins when Link looked her way. "You have a thing for Zoras, mate?"
"Hardly." Link rolled his eyes and smiled uncomfortably as he waved to Ruto.
"And the Duke of Eldin," Sir Dyden pressed, "you know him too?"
"W-we've met once or twice." Link's gaze dropped. He knew how suspicious it must have appeared for a seeming pauper such as himself to have so many friends in high places.
"Sounds to me like you're just being modest," the knight urged, backing Link into a corner.
"What I meant to say was," the young Hylian stammered defensively, "I've helped him out once or twice. I travel a lot."
"I see..." Sir Dryden didn't sound wholly convinced. Another figure, however, caught his attention. "The man over there, next to the Gerudo leader, is my father," he pointed toward the table and stated proudly. "Lord Gustaf de Vaux— the Duke of Faron."
"Ohh..." Link's eyes rested on the hunched figure of Lord Gustaf. He suddenly felt silly for not drawing the connection between the Duke and the young knight himself. "I met your father the other day in Ordon."
"Really? You were in Ordon?" Sir Dryden sounded perplexed.
"Yeah, with Ze—" Link began to say the queen's name, but quickly cut himself off. He didn't want to re-open that can of worms.
"Well, this is our row." Sir Dryden gestured toward a wooden pew already occupied by a few figures. "If you met my father, I'm sure you already know my mother," Sir Dryden indicated toward a woman clad in similar shades of emerald. "Lady Evelyn de Vaux."
Link nodded and bowed his head. Lady Evelyn held out her hand and Link, remembering what Veronica de Caulmont told him at the banquet, kissed the back of her glove respectfully. "Pleasure to see you again, Link." Her round cheeks and almond eyes filled with warmth as she smiled.
"And this," Sir Dryden continued, "is my older brother Vincent— heir to the Duchy of Faron." Link leaned forward and shook the hand of a man with the same long brown hair and almond-shaped eyes. He was shorter than Sir Dryden and had a square jaw like the Duke.
"And this," Sir Dryden began to say as he moved along the row, "well, actually I don't know who this is... Mother?"
"Oh, Dryden," Lady Evelyn's smile lit up the room. "This is one of your father's and my oldest friends, Sir—"
"Caedmon..." Link's heart leapt into his throat as he drew up behind Sir Dryden. It took him a second to recognize the man before him. The old knight looked less like a wild dog and more like a gentleman of the court. His matted, sandy-gray hair had been tamed by a brush and his beard was whittled down to a graying goatee. His familiar blue eyes, however, remained always vigilant and youthful.
"W-what are you doing here?" Link swallowed and stammered.
"I left right after you did," the old knight mumbled in reply, gazing down at his boots. He didn't appear much more comfortable at court than Link did, and possibly less so.
"Link, you know this man?" Sir Dryden asked. His brow arched with curiosity.
"Yeah, he's my—" Link choked on his word, not sure of what to say. "He's, umm..."
"I'm his uncle," Caedmon injected promptly.
"Yeah," Link nodded, catching on. "He's my uncle."
"Distantly, of course," Caedmon added coolly. "Link is my cousin's wife's sister's kid. Poor woman caught the sweat and it did her in. Link here came to find me soon afterward."
"Oh, sorry to hear about that, Link. Sounds terrible." The young knight fell silent.
Link mustered a hardly audible "Um, yeah... terrible." Inside he felt numb. A complex mixture of emotions swelled in his heart— a mixture of both contentment and anxiety.
Sir Dryden directed one last bemused look at Link and Caedmon before turning his back on them to converse with his brother. As he did, Link found his voice returning to him. "What are you doing here?" he stated through gritted teeth. He eyed the old knight with a mixture of skepticism and disbelief.
"Well," the old knight rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepishly at the ground, "I-I realized... I realized that you were right."
"Right about what?" Link folded his arms and examined Caedmon through narrowed eyes, but before the old knight could answer, a squat man in pouffy pants sounded a trumpet from the front of the hall.
"Everyone, please take your seats," he announced. "The council meeting will begin shortly!"
Conversation died to a low rumble as everyone took their places in the pews surrounding the Great Table. Link wedged himself between Sir Dryden and Caedmon along the narrow bench. The pungent smell of over-applied perfume burned his nose. Lady Gytha d'Auvrecher plopped herself on the pew in front of him, so that Link had to crane his neck to see the bronze doors over her pink hat.
Sir Dryden noticed the irritated look on Link's face and chuckled. "Don't mess with her, mate. She could probably lick a Goron."
The young Hylian gave an disgruntled sigh and turned his attention back to Caedmon. "You didn't answer my question," he whispered forcefully.
"What question?" The old knight grumbled.
"You were about to tell me why you came back," Link reminded him. "You said I was right about something."
Caedmon rolled his eyes. "Do I have to repeat myself?"
"You haven't said anything yet!" Link's voice rose, prompting Lady Gytha to wheel around and sound a harsh "Shhh!"
Sir Dryden choked on a laugh, but Link chose to ignore the Marchioness. "Well?" He urged the old knight once more. From the way Caedmon hung his head and slumped his shoulders, the old man seemed more embarrassed than afraid.
"I-I was being a coward," he murmured at hardly a whisper. "I'll admit it. There was no reason for me to stay in the forest."
Link's mouth fell open, but no words came out. Before he could respond to the old knight, the trumpet sounded once more and every head turned to face the entryway.
"Please rise," the squat man instructed. In a wave of shuffling chairs and skirts, the hall was on its feet again. "Presenting Her Majesty, Queen Zelda of Hyrule!"
The bronze doors creaked open. The sound reverberated through the suddenly silent hall as the queen entered. She looked more dignified, more royal than Link had ever seen her before. Golden armor accented the shoulders of her pink and white gown, and a sleek gold-hilted sword hung at her waist. Impa and Sir Ventripont flanked her shoulders, and the women of the court brought up the rear of the procession.
Link's gaze wandered from Zelda to the faces of the other noblemen and women. They seemed stoic and reserved - their eyes expressionless and apprehensive, but with a hint of anxiousness. They were eager to hear what the young queen, their new leader, had to say.
She's ready for this. Link closed his eyes and thought to himself. She's the keeper of the Triforce of Wisdom. The people need her.
When Link opened his eyes, he was shocked to see Zelda quickly looking in his direction. For a brief second they locked eyes, and the corners of her lips turned into a subtle smile. The feeling that the queen could hear his thoughts and feel his emotions once again gripped the young Hylian.
"So that's Zelda," Caedmon murmured beside Link, breaking the young Hylian's intense concentration. "She looks a lot like her mother."
"She looks..." Link tried to respond, but stumbled over his words. "She looks..."
"Why are you so nervous?" Caedmon chuckled.
"I'm not nervous," Link whispered defensively, fists clenched at his side. He was taking the matter with Zelda rather personally. But that's because we're such good friends, he told himself.
She reached the head of the long table, where the same golden arm-chair the king once occupied had been drawn up for her. The man in the pouffy pants raised his arm toward the queen and announced, "Queen Zelda of Hyrule!"
"Long live the queen," the court chanted back. Link and Caedmon mumbled after them, not familiar with the routine.
Zelda held out her open palms, inviting the congregation to take a seat. She remained standing as the sound of shuffling chairs filled the hall once more. Link smiled as he gazed down at the familiar figures lining the Great Table. Four of the nine voting council members were Sages. If Link felt confident in those odds, then Zelda must have too. Suddenly, the gossip of the other nobles didn't seem to matter.
"My Lords, Ladies, and countrymen, I would like to thank you all for coming so hastily. Hyrule has precious little time to spare if we are to defend our kingdom." Zelda's voice filled the hall. Her tone was smooth yet forceful, her expression calm and serious. "The law of nature moves me to grieve for my father, and yet my duty prevents me. As your queen, I mean to direct all my actions by good advice and counsel."
Zelda paused for a moment to collect her thoughts before proceeding. "We meet now to consider the circumstances which have brought us to this moment. Thirty-six hours ago," she said slowly, "King Auberon II was murdered inside these very walls. On this same night, forces plotting from within made away with one of my ladies. I have drawn, on good authority, a connection between these two acts and a plot to overthrow our kingdom, devised by our royal guests from Ten'al-taria. They entered our city flying a banner of false peace, and then, to prove that nobody can touch them, murdered the king in cold blood. For these most inequitable acts, it is our divine right to retaliate."
"So it was the Ten'al-tarians then?" One of the men at the Great Table, who Link did not recognize, spoke out. "Does Your Majesty know exactly who?"
"That's Chancellor Abner Tarquin," Sir Dryden muttered to Link, "the Minister of Foreign Affairs— a member of the House of Polis."
The young Hylian wasn't sure what that meant, but he could tell that the man, as well as the three others Link did not recognize, was important. In the silence that followed the chancellor's words, everyone in the hall seemed to teeter on the edge of their seats, awaiting the queen's response.
Zelda looked up, and with her chin held high, back straight and tall, she announced, "It was Zel-Taren who murdered the king."
A wave of gasps and cries washed over the room. "Does Your Majesty have any proof?" Chancellor Tarquin's voice rose over the murmurs, his tone peppered with doubt. The question stirred up a twinge of anger inside Link. The congregation fell silent as their attention turned once again toward the Great Table.
"I heard his confession in my father's quarters only hours ago," Zelda replied, locking eyes with the chancellor. "That confession is why the young prince is being held in our dungeons at this very hour."
"But do you think it wise, Your Majesty, imprisoning a prince like that?" The man nearest the queen's left added. Golden armor decked him from head to toe. Link assumed him to be a knight, perhaps even the head of knights. "His father could use that as a reason to attack, however deserved a punishment it might be."
"I fear that the czar's plans in no way hinges upon his son's well-being." Zelda shook her head and looked down at her hands on the table in front of her. "My father's murder and Mercy Middleton's abduction were only the first part to a much larger plan devised by Czar-Aran to overthrow Hyrule."
"How do you know?" The master knight stammered.
"Before I had the prince arrested," Zelda continued, "he spoke gloatingly of a weapon Ten'al-taria acquired - a weapon he boasted will bring Hyrule to its knees. He plans to turn it upon us in six days' time."
"But this is most unjust!" Darunia's booming voice shook the walls. A few noblewomen jumped in their seats. "What has Hyrule done to deserve this?"
Princess Ruto nodded in agreement. "There must be some reason, Your Majesty." Her glossy purple eyes never blinked.
"Envy is one of the most universal and profound sins." Zelda bowed her head. "Judging from my past conversations with the prince, I fear Ten'al-taria's suffering in the face of our land's prosperity has cultivated these grievances."
"But this is simply not fair," Lord Gustaf huffed and pounded his cane against the stone floor. "The Ten'al-tarians fought with the rebels during the Civil War. Therefore, the Goddessess' displeasure of their kingdom is of their own doing. How can Hyrule be held liable for the Goddesses' blessings?"
"There must be some room for negotiation," Chancellor Tarquin added. "When you spoke with Zel-Taren, did he not offer any terms for a peaceful agreement?"
Zelda fell silent. Link clenched his knees with his sweaty palms, not liking the direction of the discussion. The queen's gaze once again flicked up into the pews. A hint of guilt sparkled in her blue eyes. Link held her fixed look for a moment.
"He offered an ultimatum," Zelda said slowly. "An offer which I could not accept."
"And..." Chancellor Uther pressed.
"Zel-Taren offered to call off his army if..." she paused. "If I accept his hand in marriage - and unite our kingdoms through peaceful matrimony."
Another wave of shock swept through the hall. Darunia didn't move, Ruto looked away sadly, and Nabooru's brow arched with curiosity. Link ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He hated that Zelda had to go through this.
"Are you all right?" Caedmon asked, seeming to sense Link's internal struggle.
"I'm fine..." the young Hylian mumbled.
"You seem conflicted."
"Well, I'm not!"
Lady Gytha spun around again. "Shhh!" She leered at Link through her beady eyes like he was a fly she wished to swat.
Link vexed his frustration with a heavy sigh and sunk back into his seat. He closed his eyes and listened once more as Zelda's voice rose over the low mumbling of the crowd. "Hyrule will not join in any sort of union with Ten'al-taria!" Bitterness laced her tone. "They stand against the founding principles of our realm, and have wounded us in the worst sort of way!"
"Forgive me for being rash, Your Majesty," Chancellor Tarquin interjected. "But there's still one detail that does not add up. What did Czar-Aran say when you spoke with him?"
"I have not spoken with the czar," Zelda replied coolly. "I fear he has already fled these lands."
"But a prince does not have the authority to make autonomous decisions for his kingdom," Lord Gustaf's scratchy voice called out. "Only the sovereign can declare war."
Chancellor Tarquin nodded and added, "Besides, we have yet to receive a formal declaration..."
"I am sure Zel-Taren acted on his father's orders." Zelda replied.
"But they cannot attack without a written..."
"Can't they?" The queen held up a firm hand, silencing the headstrong minister. "They murdered my father in his own castle, and you think that a signed document will prevent them from unleashing whatever weapon they've unearthed in six days' time?"
Chancellor Tarquin opened his mouth to respond, but lowered his gaze and backed down.
Zelda drew a deep breath and looked out into the congregation. "We shall continue our press for negotiations as long as we can. However, the Council should recognize that the enemy is upon our doorstep. Therefore, our first order of business must be to mobilize the troops and prepare for war."
A few scattered murmurs broke out after the queen's last words, but she continued to speak over them. "It grieves me to make this my first sovereign decree. I do not wish for war. I do not like uncertainty. But Hyrule is, and must remain, a beckon of hope for this world. That is why we fight!"
Zelda then turned to look each one of the High Council members in the eye. "I ask you in this dark hour to embrace my will the same way you would have my father's. I ask the noble High Council to weigh the merit of my proposition and vote upon a measure to put Hyrule at war with the kingdom of Ten'al-taria."
Nabooru rose from her seat. "I agree with Her Majesty." She slapped her hand on the table. "How dare this prince demand the hand of a woman whose father he murdered hours before?"
"Typical Gerudo answer," Chancellor Tarquin grumbled. "Always looking for a fight."
"Decorum, Chancellor!" Lord Gustaf exclaimed.
Zelda flashed the Minister a testy look. "Indeed," she snapped. "You speak out of line, Chancellor."
"My apologies, Your Majesty." He bowed his head and sunk back into his seat.
"Moreover," Zelda turned to face Darunia and Princess Ruto, "I would like to hear what the Gorons and the Zora have to say about the situation."
"Well..." Darunia grunted. His brow furrowed into a puzzled look. "The Gorons don't like fighting, but considering the circumstances, I don't see any way around it."
"I agree, Your Majesty." Ruto nodded. "We can continue to press for negotiations, but if Czar-Aran has his mind made up to attack, we must be prepared for it."
"In the meantime, we have to send word to our allies," Nabooru said, eyeing Chancellor Tarquin narrowly. "It's only right they come to our defense."
"Selbee doesn't have much of an army," the Grand Master spoke up, "but the Borhanians are the best marksmen around. Six days hardly gives our allies enough time to prepare, though. We'll need to send word to them immediately, my Lord Tarquin."
The Minister of Foreign Affairs looked up from his ponderous, distant gaze at the sound of his name. "If it would please Her Majesty, I will have a document drawn up immediately, and send six of our best riders out to the lands of our allies before nightfall."
"Is the Council settled then?" Zelda asked calmly. "Shall we vote on a measure to war with Ten'al-taria?"
"Hyrule will have the aid of the Gorons." Darunia thumped a clenched fist to his heart. "As the Duke of Eldin, I approve the Queen's proposition."
"As the Duchess of Lanayru," Ruto's fins flipped with pride, "I, too, approve the proposition."
"The Gerudo might not have the most heralded history with Hyrule Proper, but in this new age for my people, I, Nabooru, stand for the entire Gerudo tribe in saying we will fight to defend our kingdom and the honor of our new queen!"
Link picked up on the hint of veneration in the Gerudo leader's voice. Though it had been all but erased by history, the Spirit Sage never forgot her tribe's connection with the King of Evil.
"Link." Sir Dryden nudged the young Hylian in the side and pointed toward the end of the pew. A young page stood at the end of the aisle holding a letter.
"For me?"
"I believe so." Sir Dryden waved for the page to pass the letter along. Link's fingers wrapped around the smooth, yellow parchment. The royal family crest shined on the front face in gold foil, and inside, a message was scribbled hastily in black ink.
Link -
Sorry I had to leave before you woke this morning. My maid, Cara, will wait for you by the doors. Look for her after the meeting.
Zelda
Link's eyes flicked back up to the figure seated in the golden throne at the forefront of the Great Table. "There are two ways into Hyrule from Ten'al-taria, and we have no idea from which angle they might strike." She had moved on to discussing tactical matters, which Link found much more interesting than diplomacy.
"The czar and his convoy," she continued, "entered through Gerudo lands and crossed the Valley Bridge into Remington; however, it would be most unwise for them to try a formal attack through the desert. The only other way would be through the mountains west of Kenton— our most fortified and well-equipped city. As you know, Zora's River runs between the city's wall and the base of the mountains. Since there is no bridge across, an attack on Kenton from the west seems unlikely, but perhaps more feasible than crossing the Haunted Wasteland with an entire army. Ministers, I seek counsel on how we should allocate our defenses."
A moment of silence followed as the council members exchanged hesitant looks. Finally, Nabooru took the liberty of speaking first. "If I may express myself plainly, Your Majesty," she said with a sly grin, "the Gerudo have an army. It may be small, but it is fierce, and with all due respect, the best trained in all the land."
Before Sir Bourdekin could object, Nabooru raised a hand to silence him. "Do not forget the Civil War, Grand Master, and the damage a mere handful of Gerudo wrought upon the kingdom. My tribe's allegiances may be reformed, but we train for battle using the same methods we have for hundreds of years."
"Nabooru," Zelda cut in, "as honorable as Gerudo intentions may be, the desert is a vast land to cover with such small numbers."
"Indeed, but no one, especially a band of mountain-dwelling foreigners, knows it like we do. War or not, the Gerudo would find it most distressing if I were to break with our most sacred and ancient code."
Sir Bourdekin opened his mouth to object, but Nabooru held up her hand, and pressed on. "However, given the unknown nature of Zel-Taren's threats, I will permit a few Hylian regiments into the Valley. Strategically speaking, it's more important than our little fortress, is it not?"
The Grand Master's thick, gray brow contorted. "Indeed," he huffed and slid back into his seat. "Will three units be enough, or shall I send four?"
"Two will be sufficient." Nabooru tossed her red ponytail over her shoulder. Satisfaction flickered in her golden eyes.
"Then let's consider the matter of the Gerudo border closed," Zelda announced. She turned to face Princess Ruto. "Now, concerning Kenton, the stretch of Zora's River between Castle Town and Lake Hylia is a critical one. If the Zora Army is prepared, all units should dispatch for the western river immediately."
"We are always ready, Your Majesty." Ruto stated proudly, although Link knew very well that the Zora princess wouldn't have admitted anything less to the court.
"Let's focus especially on the stretch of river at the Wall of Kenton." Zelda added.
"It will be done." Ruto's fins flicked as she bowed her head.
"And the Gorons," the young queen continued, her tone becoming increasingly more confident. "I know you have no standing army, but should there be any volunteers, we would graciously accept them into the Hylian ranks."
"Oh, there will be volunteers, Your Majesty." Darunia's grin stretched two feet across his wide face. "I'll make sure of it."
"And we'll need bombs, lots of bombs. And if you can," words tumbled out of Zelda's mouth as the ideas occurred to her, "tell Biggoron we will need all the swords he can provide. The militia must be equipped."
"I will have all of our supplies sent to Kenton immediately," the Big Boss of the Gorons replied. "Biggoron and Medigoron will not stop making swords until this whole ugly thing is over like another bad dream."
The young queen pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes in thought for a moment. When no further ideas came to her, she finally exhaled. "Very well, then." A weary smile crossed her face. "That is all I have for now; however before I take my leave, I should like to open the table for any further concerns of the moment."
The council members exchanged glances once more. When no man, Zora, Goron, or Gerudo raised their voice, they turned to face the young Queen and bowed their heads respectfully.
"Than I hereby adjourn this meeting of the High Council." Zelda's voice reverberated through the chamber. "Ministers, Grand Master, I would like a report on your statuses by this evening."
Link's heart filled with admiration for Zelda. The entire hall silently rose to its feet and bowed as the queen departed the room, trailed once more by Impa, her chief guard, and finally the other High Council members— including Darunia, Nabooru, and Ruto, to Link's disappointment. After the procession disappeared behind the bronze doors, shuffling and murmurs filled the hall once more. Whispers of war surrounded Link, but all he could think about was the young queen, his friend Zelda.
Even though they both bore shards of the Triforce, Link knew he could never measure up to her. Zelda wasn't just wise. She was the complete package with the power of a queen, the courage to lead the kingdom, and the wisdom to command her subjects justly.
"Are you coming, Link?" Sir Dryden's voice broke the young Hylian's trail of thought.
"No, I've got to meet someone," he muttered in reply.
"How about you, Caedmon?" Sir Dryden asked the old man to Link's left.
"I, umm..." The old knight's gaze flicked uneasily between Link and the de Vauxs standing at the end of the pew.
"He's going to stay too," Link interjected. Caedmon poorly tried to mask a grin with a subtle huff.
"All right," Sir Dryden nodded and shook hands with both the young Hylian and the old knight. "I'm sure I'll be off for Kenton, as soon as I get word from the Grand Master, but umm..." the young knight smiled weakly, "take care of yourself, Link."
The Duchess turned and waved goodbye. "It was so lovely to see you again, Caedmon. I pray it won't be another thirty years."
"Let's hope not," Caedmon replied with a half smile.
After the de Vaux's left, Link and Caedmon sat down simultaneously and sighed. Neither said a word for a moment as they both tried to anticipate what the other was thinking.
"You know," Caedmon broke the silence after a moment, "I could go if you want me to?"
"No, stay," Link exclaimed before realizing what he said. "I mean, where else would you go?"
The old knight wordlessly shrugged. The two men leaned back against the now-empty pew as the waves of noblemen and women made for the bronze doors.
"Listen, Caedmon," Link said uneasily. "I haven't told Zelda about you yet."
"Told her about me?" The old knight fixed Link with a curious look.
"You know," the young Hylian shifted uneasily in his seat, "that you're... alive."
"That I'm alive?"
"Do you have to repeat everything I say?" Link huffed and folded his arms across his chest.
"No, I'm just..." Caedmon choked on a laugh. "You're really struggling right now."
"I'm not a wordsmith, okay?" Link rolled his eyes.
"All right," the old knight muttered with a smile.
"So..." Link said slowly, "you didn't happen to tell the Duke about me, did you?"
"Well, considering you met him the other day, I didn't think I had to."
"That's not what I meant," Link muttered, growing impatient. He felt like he was back in the Lost Woods arguing with the old man about the existence of fairies. Caedmon could be down right infuriating to talk to at times. "Did you tell him about you and me— about the nature of our..."
"You mean," Caedmon cut him off, "did I tell Gustaf that my son, who I thought was dead for thirty years, showed up on my doorstep, and oh, by the way, he's actually only sixteen and grew up in a magical forest of little people? No, I didn't."
"Good..." Link bobbed his head and exhaled. "It's probably for the best. In fact, it's probably best we don't tell anyone, to avoid a lot of unnecessary questioning."
"Link, it's your call." Caedmon held his hands up. "Everything is. I just wanted..." He paused and lowered his gaze. "I just wanted to see you," he muttered at an almost inaudible volume.
Link didn't know whether the old knight felt guilty or embarrassed, though he shouldn't have felt either. After all, Link wanted to see him as well. The young Hylian knew as little about being a son as Caedmon knew about being a father— that much was apparent. Link did, however, know what it meant to be a friend. He figured if they could start with that, then perhaps the rest would work itself out.
"Caedmon," he placed his hand on the old knight's shoulder and smiled. "I'm glad you came."
The old knight exhaled in relief. "Good."
Link noticed a short, mousy woman frantically scanning the pews through squinted eyes. "I think I see the maid," he muttered as he stood. "We should go."
"But," the old knight said hesitantly, "the queen won't mind if I..."
"Caedmon," Link cut him off with a subtle laugh, "I would like to introduce you to a friend of mine." He offered the old knight a hand up from the pew, and together they set off from the Great Hall.
AN: Well I made it in just over a month, so not to bad. This chapter probably went through more work in post-production than any of my previous ones. It's hard to believe now, but at one point it was over 10,000 words! That's way to long. As such, I'm giving an extra big shutout to my beta, Nendil, for her work on this one!
For your reference, I drew a character sketch of Caedmon which can be found on my deviantART page (User name: MissScarlett12). I will admit to being a pretty mediocre artist, but I gave it my best shot. For the most part, I'll stick to writing :)
Something else you might find useful on my deviantART page is a map of Hyrule as it's laid out for the purposes of Principatus. Thought I would point it out because we're getting to the point where some geography is becoming important. For the most part, I tried to stick as closely to the Ocarina of Time world map as I could. I just made it bigger, added a few more towns, moved Lon Lon ranch a little to the right, and divided it up into four provinces. All cannon places (except the ranch) are in their same cardinal location (Desert to the west, Castle/Death Mountain in the north, forest in the south, ext.).
So, I've blabbed enough now :) As always, thanks for the reading!
Scarlett
