After dinner with the rest of the family—Naissus being conspicuously absent—Amichen went to her room to lie down for a little while. She didn't think she would be able to nap—she was too worried about what the Reconciliation would entail—but she had had a physically and emotionally exhausting day, and she fell asleep unexpectedly.
The next thing she knew, the queen was shaking her awake. "Let's go," she whispered.
Amichen rose, feeling like they were going to something secret.
"May I ask why it's so late at night?" Amichen asked as the bells around the town began to chime midnight.
"When a candidate for knighthood is named, he is taken away at sunset and bathed and dressed in white linen, then escorted to the chapel to keep his vigil. All through the night, the other knights will come in, individually, and give him words of wisdom and caution him against vice. At dawn, they will come for him again, dress him, then he will be knighted and he will break his fast with the court. Only after breakfast will he go to get his tattoo.
"Everything is symbolic," she explained. "In the darkness, we are at our weakest and most vulnerable. The candidate furthers this by wearing nothing but his underwear and having nothing to eat but a measured amount of bread and water each hour. And that is when the knights lecture the candidate and make sure that he is not too prideful. And he must endure sitting alone for part of the night—almost as a test of courage. It is, in a way, like the time before birth—when a person dwells in darkness, having nothing. But when day comes, it is as if he is reborn. He will dress in his finest clothes, be presented to the king, and knighted. Then he will be the guest of honor at breakfast while everyone praises him. It is a new day for him, and he is a new man.
"When a knight dies, the same cycle repeats itself. The body is brought to the chapel and everyone keeps a final vigil with him. Then, at dawn, he is taken for burial. He is being elevated to the Other World.
"An Excommunication would happen at dawn, too. But, instead of being brought to the vigil naked and then dressed in his best when it's finished, he is taken into public in his best, then stripped of it. It is a perversion of the knighting ritual—just as he perverted his vows as a knight.
"Thank the gods," Queen Maris added, "that we have never seen one of those in our lifetime. They exist only in books."
"But . . . why midnight for Naissus?" Amichen asked.
"Because it is a dark time—a hidden time. The Reconciliation is something that's done in secret; only the knights and any aggrieved parties are present, and what happens during it must not be spoken of again," the queen hinted.
"Oh, so we will not be present?" Amichen asked with relief.
"No, we will be there," the queen said, dashing her hope. "We are the aggrieved party."
"In what way?"
"Because we are his family. He feels that we have been the ones most let down—the most shamed by his action—or, rather, inaction."
Amichen just shook her head.
"He will feel better after this. You'll see," the queen promised. "This is the only way we can get him back. This is the only way he'll forgive himself.
The queen led Amichen downstairs and through the west wing of the castle. Two guards stood by an exterior door and one of them opened it for the ladies and let them pass by. Outside, there was a raised, covered walkway that crossed the castle garden and connected to a small, detached building. Two more guards stood at the chapel door and they opened the doors and bowed their heads as the queen approached.
Amichen looked around as they entered the building. It was small—it couldn't hold more than fifty people. There were ten pews arranged in two parallel rows. At the head of the chapel, instead of a proper altar, there was just an empty table. Directly above it, on the wall, was a large painting. Amichen recognized it as a sister painting to one in Shi-Ha; it depicted one of the adventures of Link and Zelda. This particular painting was of Link's own knighting. He knelt in the middle of a ruined room—Zelda in one corner, as just a spectator—with a ring of ghost-knights surrounding him. One knight held a spectral sword against Link's shoulder, giving him the dubbing.
Hanging around the painting were various weapons that Amichen had only ever read about: a gold, opal-studded mace which had the ability to call up the spirits of the dead; a mechanical glove created by the ancients that shot a grappling hook device from the back of the hand and could send the wearer zooming off across the room when the hooks latched onto something; another glove that had the power to move objects by thought alone; a seemingly-empty quiver that would bring forth arrows of light when a person chosen by the gods reached for them; a golden shield so highly polished, it not only reflected an image, like a mirror, but it would reflect anything else thrown at it: magic, fire, or ice; a whip that Link had taken from one of the demons they had defeated, and a bejeweled sword in a white scabbard that had been a gift to Link when the king of Erenrue had knighted him in that kingdom. Link had given the sword to Zelda and it had remained hers.
The only two weapons missing were Zelda's bow and Link's sword—which was an heirloom of the original Knights of Hyrule. Those two objects were actually part of Link and Zelda's tomb because no one had the audacity to take their primary weapons away from them, even in death. Only when a candidate was to be knighted was Link's sword brought to the chapel with all due solemnity and placed on the table like a holy relic. The candidate would be knighted with it the following morning, then it would be returned to the tomb.
Amichen saw that there were already people sitting in the pews—more than just Naissus' immediate family. She thought she recognized them from the funeral. It appeared that the parents of the men who were killed had been invited as well.
The queen and Amichen sat in the front row and Naissus' sisters and sisters-in-law filled in the rest of the row and the one behind them.
Once everyone was seated, the knights—dressed in their civilian clothes this time, not armor—filed silently into the chapel and lined the outside walls. Then Naissus came in—followed by the king. Amichen was shocked to see Naissus wearing nothing but his undershirt and linen underwear. He was even barefoot.
Amichen could only assume that he had symbolically taken on the role of squire once again so that, through the ceremony, he could be reconciled to his brother knights and brought back up to his proper station.
The king positioned Naissus in front of the table, then turned to the assembly. "Who accuses this man?" he called out.
There was absolute silence in the chapel, as if no one even dared to breathe, lest that be construed as damning. Not even the family members of the men who had died spoke out against Naissus.
Then Naissus spoke. "I accuse me."
He took a deep breath, then continued, addressing the crowd. "I failed to do my duty as a knight. I was in charge of the safety and well-being of a group of people: five of my cousins—one of whom was my brother-knight—three squires, a female maid of the Queen of Shi-Ha, and Princess Amichen of Shi-Ha. I allowed us to be attacked by bandits. I allowed all of the men under my command to be killed. I allowed the queen's maid to be killed. And I allowed. . ."
His voice choked up. It took him a couple of tries before he could speak. "And I allowed Princess Amichen to be violently abused—to the point that she nearly died as well."
He sank to his knees on the stone floor. "I submit that I am no longer fit to be a Knight of Hyrule," he said, bowing his head.
Amichen whispered hurriedly in the queen's ear. "They won't take away his knighthood, will they?" she asked anxiously.
The queen shook her head a little. But Amichen was still so nervous, she took the queen's hand in both of hers and held it tightly.
The king turned back to the assembly. "Does anyone here wish to see this knight Excommunicated?"
Amichen held her breath, but no one replied.
The king continued. "This man says that he has shamed his brethren and caused undue grief to others. Do what seems best to punish him for his transgressions, then let his sins be expunged and never mentioned again."
The king turned to Naissus, then, with an expression of absolute pain, he raised his hand and smacked Naissus across the face with a noise that echoed in the silent stone room.
Amichen gasped, half-rising to her feet in shock and alarm, but the queen pulled her back down and kept a tight grip on her arm. "Shh."
To Amichen's utter horror, Naissus' brother, Talent, stepped forward next and, after a moment's hesitation, he slapped Naissus as well.
Laertes and Renault were next, followed by the rest of the knights in age-order—the eldest going first.
Amichen turned her head away, closing her eyes, unable to watch as person after person slapped Naissus as if he had personally wronged him. But she knew that they were having just as much trouble participating as she had watching. Many of them had to take a minute to work up the nerve to strike him. Some were crying when they did it. Most were crying afterwards.
There were sniffles from all around her; the knights weren't the only ones crying.
It seemed interminably long. Nothing was said and nothing could be heard but a slight shuffle of feet and then the loud smack.
But when Amichen dared a glance at Naissus, despite the fact that he winced in pain as his bright-red cheeks were struck over and over again, his face looked more peaceful than it had been since the attack.
Amichen thought it a horribly twisted logic, but it seemed that he felt he was making amends by allowing the others to punish him. Never mind no one thought he deserved punishment in the first place; he thought he needed it and he wouldn't be free from guilt until he got it.
Finally, the last of the knights filtered through. But the ordeal was not yet over. The king gestured to a teenage girl—not more than fifteen years old—and her two younger brothers. Amichen recognized them as Rodger's siblings; the girl was now the Duchess of Summerfield.
The girl rose from her pew, tightly gripping her brothers' hands. She hesitated in front of Naissus longer than anyone else. Then she quickly and lightly slapped him across the face—as if it was something so distasteful, she could barely manage it—then she threw her arms around Naissus, hugging him tightly and crying on his shoulder.
He put his arm around her and spoke to her so quietly, even Amichen—sitting in the front row—couldn't hear what he was saying.
After a couple of minutes, he let go of her and kissed her on the cheek. She pulled away, smiling at him through her tears, and he returned it. Then he hugged his younger cousins tightly and they and their sister returned to their seats.
Slowly, Naissus' aunts and uncles and his father's cousins—the parents of the other men killed—came up to him in turn. It seemed harder for them to strike him; in fact, the women refused to do so at all, allowing, instead, their husbands to perform the gesture on their behalf. Each hit was light and was followed by tears and hugs.
They had lost more than anyone else, but they also knew how much Naissus had lost; they knew that he and the others had grown up like brothers and loved one another like brothers.
After them came the parents of the squires. The first two couples did as little as possible and hurried back to their seats—like the Duchess, they acted as if the entire thing was repugnant to them—but the third couple refused outright when the king signaled that it was their turn.
"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty," the man said, "but we're common folk; we have no right to strike the prince."
"In this place, rank has little meaning," the king replied. "Even a prince must show his humility. And you are the aggrieved party. Justice demands restitution for you, whatever your rank and whatever the rank of the guilty."
But the man shook his head. "I cannot," he whispered.
"Do you request that someone do it on your behalf?"
"If it must be done at all . . . then, yes, I suppose so. All I know is I can't do it."
"Very well."
The king walked up the aisle to Naissus and it suddenly became horrifyingly clear that he, as leader of the Order must be the stand-in. A man who had never struck his son before in his life—aside from the ceremonial blow delivered at everyone's knighting—would now hit him a second time in one night.
He pulled his hand back, then struck Naissus across the face so hard, it rocked him back.
Naissus put his hand to face, actually looking up at his father in astonishment; the king had struck him much harder the second time than the first. It seemed that his father did not want to poorly represent the people he stood in for and he did not temper his strike with any fatherly affection.
And then something truly awful happened. The king turned and gestured to Amichen.
She froze, staring at him in shock. He gestured to her a second time. "Amichen," he quietly called.
The queen leaned into, whispering into Amichen's ear. "You need to do this for Naissus, darling." Then she pushed Amichen to her feet. But Amichen stayed rooted in place; the king had to come over and escort her to Naissus.
She stared down at him, his pale cheeks an angry red from the repeated slaps.
He looked up at her, his face sorrowful. "I have wronged you more than any other," he said quietly.
"You wronged me when you turned me away this morning—when you refused my help."
He closed his eye, looking pained. "Yes, I did."
"But I won't strike you for it."
He looked up at her again. "You have many more reasons than that for striking me."
"According to you. But I don't agree with you."
"Please, Ami," he whispered. "I need your forgiveness more than any other's."
She knelt in front of him so she could look at him equally. "Naissus, you already have it."
He shook his head. "That's not what I meant."
"You want me to strike you because you think it will make you feel better. But what about me? What about my feelings? Hitting you will make me feel bad. And aren't you supposed to put others ahead of yourself? And yet what you want is being put ahead of what everyone else wants. Because, if you hadn't already noticed, no one wanted to do this to you. You wanted this—you and you alone."
His eye widened as he realized the truth of her words. He was left gaping, speechless.
Amichen put her arms around him, holding him close. "Let go of this, Naissus. Let go of your guilt."
She could feel the darkness break inside him and he slumped against her, bawling. She rubbed his back while he clung to her, finally releasing all the hurt and anger he had bottled up and directed towards himself.
"You're right," he mumbled, as his tears slowly subsided. He sat back on his heels and tried to wipe his face dry with his one good hand. Amichen reached up and helped him. "You're right," he repeated. "I have been wallowing in my misery to the detriment of others."
"Well, I guess I see a good purpose to this ceremony after all; you just needed some sense slapped into you," Amichen said.
He chuckled, then, unexpectedly, he pulled her in and kissed her—right there in front of everyone.
He rested his forehead against hers. "I have neglected you most of all," he whispered. "And you're the one who needs me the most—just as I need you."
"I am your man . . . er, woman. I will be there for you anytime you need me."
"No," he said, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it, "I am yours."
Amichen smiled, then rose to her feet and helped him up. He put his arm around her waist—surprising her yet again—and held her close to his side as they looked out over the assembly.
"Then, if no one else has anything to add, this matter is closed," the king announced. "Naissus is restored to the knighthood in honor and this matter will never be spoken of again."
People came up to Naissus again, but this time to shake his hand or hug him. He smiled at everyone and thanked them.
Amichen still didn't know why such a bizarre ceremony worked, but clearly it did; Naissus seemed his old self again. Maybe she was right; maybe he just needed some sense slapped into him.
Amichen was surprised when the queen gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for my son."
Wyliss came up to her next, whispering in her ear. "You can't tell me now that you haven't saved Naissus."
Everyone trickled out of the chapel as the town bells tolled one o'clock. Naissus and Amichen were the last to leave. He went around the room, blowing out the candles, before taking Amichen's hand and walking back to the castle with her.
"I don't even know what room you're in," he said, somewhat embarrassed, as they climbed the stairs to the second floor.
"Down at the end," Amichen said, pointing the way.
Naissus whistled as they walked into the room. "Mother gave you one of the nicest rooms in the castle," he said.
"It's not that much different than yours," Amichen protested.
"Just in the view." He pointed. "You can look east, towards the land of your birth, or you can look forward, towards Hyrule."
Amichen hadn't thought about it that way, but now that Naissus had pointed out, she could see how the ever-thoughtful queen would have picked the room just for that reason.
"I think she loves you better than she does me," he laughed.
It seemed so long since she had heard him laugh freely, without bitterness, that her heart swelled with happiness.
Then he reached out and slowly brushed his fingers across her cheek. "But, I can hardly blame her," he said quietly. "I love you, too."
Before she could figure out what to say, he leaned in and gently kissed her.
A cold chill ran down her spine, making her feel the way she had the very first time he had kissed her when they had been lying out, looking at the stars.
He slowly pulled away, looking at her with a gaze so intense, it felt as if he might set her on fire with it. "Goodnight," he whispered.
Her mouth was so dry, she had to swallow before she could speak. "Goodnight."
He smiled at her, then turned and left.
Amichen didn't ring for a maid. Instead, she undressed herself and got into her nightgown. But she lay on top of the covers and let the cool air coming through the open winds blow over her. For some reason, she felt a little hot.