Ser Donovan walked through the rebel camp. It had taken him a few days, but he'd learned to switch hands. Now, his crippled hand carried his shield, with more straps than before, certainly, but Donovan was a knight. He had trained for this eventuality, and could fight left-handed. He had dispatched the sheikah, practically to the four corners of Hyrule. This was it. They could not delay their attack any longer. Everyday Ganon's forces swelled, while the rebels dwindled. In another month, there would be no army.
The hero had not returned from his journey to the desert, but the veteran knight had faith that Princess Zelda knew what she was doing. He had sent runners to practically every village in the land, the summons for war. He did not know how many would answer. All of the villages in Ordon province, to the south had responded immediately. They had marched in force, armed with farming implements turned to more violent pursuits. Some even rode upon massive goats.
He would muster for five days, then march on the castle. He couldn't wait longer than that, not without risking the Dark Lord striking first.
((()))
Link walked beside Malon, and everywhere they went, they found women with hard eyes, saddling horses, and readying their men. "How soon can the city be ready?" Malon asked the armored woman beside her.
"Two days. I took the liberty of dispatching messengers to neighboring tribes… but many have migrated to Hyrule," the iron knuckle, Setsu, of Clan Hirosh said, keeping a wary eye on the two wolf demons that trailed behind the slave of Nolamar.
"Send messengers to the Hylians. We will need more swords to fight Ganondorf," Malon said.
Setsu hesitated, "If you think it wise, Nolamar."
"I understand it is a risk, and I will not place the burden upon your clan alone. Nikaru, will you bring our terms to the Hylians?" Malon asked, looking behind her. The woman seemed startled to be addressed, "I… I would be honored."
Link had noticed a change in the woman, after the rain. Nikaru hadn't softened, but somehow, without saying anything, she and Malon were no longer enemies now, though they certainly weren't friends.
Link was more surprised by the fierce and practically unshakable loyalty of Setsu, the Iron Knuckle who had served Koume so faithfully… and had been one of the women Link threw into an arena wall. The woman he back-handed was dead, however, her neck had been broken, as well as most of the bones in her body. If the gerudo had not believed him Malon's slave, and completely loyal to her, he had no doubt they would have executed him. He was simply too dangerous to their rigid view of the world.
For now, the fractious clans of thieves were united… but Link didn't know how long it would take before their petty rivalries split them apart again. Hopefully not before they dragged Ganon off his throne.
Of course, when Malon said city, she wasn't being literal… there were nearly 10,000 people living within the fortress, and the tent city that surrounded it. Obviously, not everyone would be able to muster, there weren't enough horses to carry them all, some were too old, some too young, some were pregnant, some had babies to care for… but by rough estimate, nearly three thousand gerudo would be riding with them to war, most of them veterans… and the wealthier warriors were bringing their men along, on horses of their own. Link had taken a look at the two hundred or so men that would accompany their masters… all of them looked… hard. Few lacked scars, and most had muscles that seemed on par with that of a goron. The softer men would be left to guard the new mothers, and the children… because it wasn't worth the effort transporting them, compared to their fighting capabilities… not to mention, men were a luxury, and few gerudo were eager to risk their loss… but for some, the men were left behind because the gerudo in question was fond of them, or even loved them, and did not wish them harmed. Unfortunately, it seemed in those instances the feelings tended to be mutual, which led to heated words when the man in question found out that he was being left behind, while his loved one went to war.
((()))
One advantage to having a small army, was at least it could move quickly, Donovan thought to himself darkly. Two thousand villagers and peasants had answered the call, little more than militia. Lito and Aris's rebel companies had rendezvoused with the main body, just south of Iloccia, a town near the very center of Hyrule, and sixty miles distant from Ganon's castle. The addition of almost five hundred veteran soldiers quickly boosted the morale of the peasants, but it merely underscored for Donovan how ill prepared they were. They had less than sixty horse, which comprised their entire cavalry, and most of them were horse archers… unless you counted the goats.
He would never have dreamed of this day… to risk everything on one last gamble… but perhaps their cautiousness had led them to this state of affairs.
Donovan didn't know, and it didn't change his task, the rescue of Hyrule's heir, and the destruction of the usurper. He held little stock in the magic the Princess believed so vital to Ganon's downfall. In the end, the day would be decided by mortal weapons, held in the fists of mundane warriors.
As they traveled, their numbers grew, militia from towns they passed fell in among them, encouraged by how massive the army seemed to be, for many of these villages had never seen anything larger than raiding parties. The peasants were rallying behind one man, Talon, who seemed to have embodied their cause with his coarse speech, hatred, and thirst for retribution.
With every village he visited along their route, twice as many fighters returned with him.
((()))
Donovan halted their march, six miles from the castle, and set up their staging grounds. There was still no word from the Hero, or their allies. He still had two days before his attack. With nearly three thousand peasants and five hundred soldiers, he believed they had a fair chance of defeating the Dark Lord… provided he was unable to recall his scattered army quickly enough to mount a serious defense.
Ganon had the superior position, the fortifications, the walls. The few trees in the grass lands were quickly cut down, and engines of war were constructed, namely trebuchet; essentially over-sized, ungainly slings, that hurled boulders incredible distances. Scouts were dispatched, to warn the army of enemy activity.
((()))
Zelda sat in her chambers, trembling. She could feel the coming battle, a great tear in the future, where many would die. Naturally, it was then that Ganon entered her chambers.
"It saddens me, but soon, your usefulness will end, and I will remake the world, as it should be," Ganon said eagerly.
"You do not have the Triforce of Courage, nor will you ever lay hands upon it," Zelda said coolly.
Ganon slapped her, but it was more from habit than anger.
"Even with the Sages, and your Hero, there is no chance of victory against me. My power is unlimited, my reach infinite," Ganon chuckled.
"Which is why it took you over seven years to capture me, a girl of eighteen," Zelda smirked.
Ganon didn't rise to the bait, instead he shrugged, "My true army stands ready to defend this castle… and when your loyal soldiers attack, they will be trapped between the castle and a sea of steel."
"Even if they are all destroyed they will not let themselves fall until your blood runs from their swords," Zelda said coldly.
"Then there's no time to waste, is there?" Ganon sneered, pinning her to the bed.
((()))
The day before the attack, Ser Donovan was roused from his restless sleep by a sheikah, Lito. Apparently, there was a rather loud Goron, with a big hammer, demanding to speak to the "Boss."
Ser Donovan strapped on his shield and sword hastily, before following Lito through the forest of tents. Near the outer edge, a delegation of gorons crouched patiently. One of them rose, with a truly large hammer across his shoulders, as if it weighed nothing.
"You the boss?" he asked.
"I am Ser Donovan. I lead Hyrule's armies in milady's absence," Ser Donovan confirmed.
"So… that's a yes," the goron decided.
"And you are?" Donovan asked politely.
"Ah, right. I'm Darunia, boss of the Gorons, and Sage of Fire," the goron said.
Donovan noticed the red medallion on a chain around Darunia's neck.
"I have heard of you, Darunia, if even half of it is true, I would be honored to fight beside you," Ser Donovan said.
"Well, we can't let you have all the fun," Darunia chuckled.
Donovan counted only thirty of the rugged warriors. They were likely worth ten soldiers each, but he wished more had come.
"Oh, I almost forgot, the rest of my clan are a couple hours behind us. Just didn't want you to panic, you know, seeing us coming…" Darunia said flippantly.
"How many more?" Donovan asked.
"Well… let me think… there's another seven hundred gorons, three biggorons… and six hundred Armos," Darunia said, counting on his rocky fingers. He looked at Donovan apologetically, "We tried to hurry, but the moblins made quite a mess in Death Mountain, so we had trouble widening the tunnels enough for the biggorons to get out."
Donovan's knees felt slightly weak. Six hundred Armos? He'd thought they were legends only. Their chances of victory had just increased ten fold.
Darunia was as good as his word. Donovan didn't know what biggorons were, but they sounded big. Two hours later, Donovan saw just how big. They looked like gorons…. the size of trees. They seemed slow, however.
Marching ahead of the biggorons came twelve perfect columns of Armos, each holding fifty of the stone golems, followed by a disorganized rabble of gorons carrying weapons of every type and make.
The peasants and soldiers alike watched the approaching army with something close to awe, especially the biggorons.
"Why do we even need trebuchet?" One soldier asked his comrade.
"Because it makes us look professional?" the spearman guessed.
"I reckon we let the Armos charge, and when the Dark Lord's finished wetting himself, we can get off our arses, and execute the bastard," the first soldier chuckled.
When morale jumps quickly, it can fall even faster, if the battle turned against them. Donovan didn't like what was happening, but he couldn't do much to stop it either.
Later that evening, Darunia and Donovan began to draw up a plan of attack. Neither knew the strengths, or weaknesses of the other, so it was a learning experience.
A breathless messenger entered the war tent, and saluted nervously.
"What is it, son?" Donovan asked the nervous lad.
"Perimeter scouts came back, sir, they say there's a forest approaching, from the southeast,"
It sounded like the scouts were drunk… or insane. But Donovan sent out additional scouts. They returned fifteen minutes later, with similar tales.
Worried, Donovan found his charger, and joined the third band of scouts personally.
In the dimming light of sunset, Donovan reigned up on a hill, which had a commanding view for miles of the flat plains… and sure enough, Donovan saw something that looked like small trees on the move… but now other objects amid the "forest" could be seen in the tall grass.
"Are those wolves?" one archer asked, nervously patting his horse.
"Not at that size, they're wolfos. We used to see a few every now and then, down by the Kokiri woods," the man on Donovan's right said.
"There's things riding them though," another archer pointed out. The force was still nearly two miles distant.
"Get back to the camp, and get the men ready for battle, just in case," Donovan said, sending one of the group back as messenger.
"And what'll we be doing?" the scout on his left asked apprehensively.
"Scouting," Donovan said grimly, kicking his horse's flanks.
If this was a surprise attack, the force didn't seem large enough to be a threat, Donovan thought. They covered three quarters of a mile, and halted, watching the forest approach. Several of the wolfos accelerated, breaking away from the mobile glade. When they were closer, Donovan felt the blood drain from his face.
They were Kokiri.
He'd seen a Kokiri once, seven years ago, use magic to drown two Iron Knuckles in a moat.
"Halt, and identify yourselves," a dry mouthed scout called, clinging to protocol.
The lead demon slowed her mount, "I am Saria, of the Kokiri, and Sage of the Forest. We come to aid you, sir knight."
"How have you left the forest?" Donovan inquired.
"I am the forest, good knight. Where I go, it follows," the demon laughed, much like a child.
The approaching forest began to slow and halt behind the motionless Sage.
Each of the masked demons had a sapling on their back, roots and all, as well as burlap travel sacks.
They couldn't leave the forest… so they brought it with them…
"You'll understand if I don't position you among the men, I hope," Donovan said politely. The demon shrugged, "My trees need space to feed anyway."
Donovan simply shook his head, and rode back to camp. This was going to be a long night.
The men grew quiet and watchful, as word spread among them that the forest-demons had come, with a magical thicket of trees. Others claimed the demons had ridden the trees to the camp, and still others laughed, and told of monstrous wolves the size of bears.
The peasants respected the gorons, but even though, in comparison, the contingent of forest-demons was far smaller, in both stature and numbers, they were seen as the more intimidating ally. Many of the demons wore masks, but more were strange creatures with black skin and flutes. The most numerous were strange tree-men that waddled on two legs, or crawled on four.
((()))
"I don't like having your… people… behind the men. It will make them nervous," Donovan explained to the demon. She was currently sitting on the war table, her masked face resting on her fist.
"We do not stand and fight, ser knight. We kill and fade. Many of my friends will die if we attempt to fight as you do. You do not ask the gorons to change their tactics," the demon said, annoyed.
"What of your wolves, then? Will they not fight as cavalry?" Donovan demanded hotly.
The demon girl shook her head, "We will fight as we always have,"
"If you're not going to agree to anything, then why are you even sitting in on this meeting?" Donovan growled.
"To learn what you plan, and decide how best to aid you in accomplishing it," the demon girl said calmly.
"Let 'em be, boss-knight," Darunia said, "They don't think like you. Their minds are sneaky little mazes,"
"My son spoke most highly of you, Darunia," the demon girl giggled, a noise that disturbed Donovan greatly.
"Yeah? You raised him right, then," Darunia chuckled.
"Your son?" Donovan asked, lost.
"Well… he's adopted," the girl whispered conspiratorially.
"I don't follow…" Donovan said.
"The kid, the one with the magic sword," Darunia hinted.
Link? This was his mother?
It explained much about him… namely his ability to irritate Donovan with ease.
Donvan shook his head, "As I was saying, we can use the biggorons to break the market walls here and here, to insert our forces into the city with far fewer losses, if necessary."
Unfortunately, Darunia wanted to break the walls anyway, and Donovan spent the better part of an hour talking the goron out of any hasty actions.
((()))
Princess Ruto led her warriors from the river, and over the field, towards the encampment in the distance. Not all of her warriors, only ten or so. She was briefly challenged by a Hylian picket, but they let her pass without much trouble. She saw movement towards the rear of the camp and saw hundreds of forest demons of many shapes and sizes. Most looked like walking shrubbery. She also saw gorons and their strange war machines. She was led into a tent.
A sheikah with frightening hooked swords was pointing out positions on a map to a Hylian in heavy plate armor. Next to them stood a very large Goron, and lounging on the table was a female forest demon Ruto recognized, Saria. They were arguing. Off to one side, a very old looking Hylian woman was sitting on a camp chair, leaning on a wooden staff.
"Uh… greetings, I am Princess Ruto, representing my father on his behalf. I am also the Water Sage," she said nervously. They were all staring at her.
"Well, come in girl," the old hylian cackled. Ruto hastily approached the table.
"How many warriors have you brought?" The armored hylian asked briskly.
"Many of my people are scattered, or dead. I brought over three hundred, most of them from our royal guard," Ruto apologized.
"Can they fight on land?" The sheikah asked.
"Yes, if I make it rain," she said.
That drew additional stares.
"But we are better in water," Ruto said quickly.
Saria pitied the Zora princess. She looked so… lost. She seemed hardly old enough to be leading her people to war, let alone act as a Sage… but… these were extraordinary times.
"What of my son?" Saria asked Impa.
The shiekah elder shook her head, "Still no word… but I have received reports of activity to the west."
They worked the Zora into the battle plan, as last minute additions to the right flank, which was closest to the river. The artificial darkness only extended four miles out from the castle, but it would block the sun, increasing the difficulty of coordinating their forces.
((()))
"You ask them," the peasant said.
"It was your question," his friend protested.
"Yeah, but you're bigger," the man said, grinning.
"And you're faster," the taller man argued.
"What will you be asking us?" a forest demon asked, cocking her masked head.
"Err, nothing, nothing of note," the big peasant said quickly.
The demon wagged a finger at them, "You made us curious, so we think it's very important," she giggled, sending a shiver down both men's spines.
"Well, Burt didn't mean no offense, but, he thinks you're… well, he thinks Kokiri come from acorns. I tried to tell him yu'r born from trees that grow from dead logs,
but—"
The demon started laughing at them, and a gold faerie girl joined in.
"You're funny," the demon giggled.
"So… we're wrong?" the big peasant asked, starting to feel sheepish.
"A long time ago, we used to be children. Then we ran away, and got lost in the woods, where we could play and do what we want, forever. A lot of us came when the Dark Man burned your towns. Lots of children came to the woods then, and became more of us."
The demon couldn't have said anything more terrifying. The forest turned children into demons. Burt and his friend were a curious shade of grey.
"And… grown ups?" Burt asked warily.
"You always try to hurt the trees. So we kill you till you run away," the demon-girl said brightly.
"I don't have any more questions do you Burt? No okay let's go," the little peasant said, talking quickly, pulling his friend away, but he shook off the little man.
"You were children?" he asked.
"Yup."
"Do you remember your names after you… turn?" Burt asked.
"Yup, I'm Sasha," the little girl said.
"Is there a boy, his name was Ian?" Burt asked.
The girl hesitated, "One of my friends is named Ian," she admitted.
"May I see him?" Burt asked desperately.
"Um…" for a moment, the demon really did seem to be a little girl. She shrugged, and walked into the little forest they'd set up. Burt waited… he thought the demon had changed her mind, but eventually, she came back, pulling a boy by the wrist, and another girl followed behind.
"Ian?" Burt called hesitantly, the demon boy froze, his tail wrapping firmly around a sapling.
"Ian?" Burt repeated, stepping into the little trees, hope warring with fear of disappointment.
"Daddy," the demon boy said quietly.
"Ian!" Burt sobbed, ignoring the demons that stood around his son, his little boy.
He seemed so small, and frail in his arms.
"Ian, I thought you were dead," he whispered.
"I did die, daddy," Ian said sadly. He pulled up his mask, and Burt felt his blood run cold.
He recognized his son's face, but the eyes… the eyes were wrong. There weren't any whites to them; they were a solid color, in this case, brown.
But seeing his son, different as he might be, was tearing open wounds Burt had carried for years, since finding his home on fire, wife dead, and son missing.
"You are Ian's daddy?" the girl next to his son asked, cocking her head.
"And who are you?" Burt asked. Ian pulled away from him, and took the girl's hand, "This is Natalie. She's my mate,"
Ian should have been fifteen, but he looked just like Burt had seen him last, almost four years ago.
Burt could feel his heart breaking, seeing his son step away from him. He was losing him again.
"How much do you remember, from being my son?" Burt asked quietly.
"We don't forget, if that's what you're asking," Ian said quietly.
"Are you happy?" Burt asked, swallowing, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Yes," Ian said, his voice very small.
"Good," Burt nodded jerkily.
"If I leave the forest, I'll die for real," Ian said quietly.
"Right," Burt said, nodding mechanically. Ian looked at him, before he reached to his neck, and untied a necklace, made from shiny rocks, braided bark, and bits of polished wood. He held it out to Burt, "You can visit me, if you promise not to hurt the trees," Ian said.
Burt stared at the token in the hands of the demon that was still his son. Slowly, the big man took the necklace, and fastened it around his own neck. It wasn't anywhere near as loose on him as his son… but Burt didn't care. He had his son back. And his son had done some very interesting things in the last four years.
((()))
Donovan sat on his horse, and watched as the peasants formed up into ragged blocks. The blocks themselves weren't ragged, each block had trained together for years to defend their village, but the blocks weren't accustomed to other blocks hemming them in. Each had a ragged flag among them, with a symbol that represented their town.
Of the (roughly) three thousand militia to answer his call, he had over eighty blocks, ranging in size from thirty to a fifty men each.
An inexperienced commander would have sent all of his forces into the city at once, hoping to overwhelm any resistance encountered, but that would have been a grave tactical blunder. With too many troops in enclosed, choked spaces, the men would be deadlocked by their comrades, and move at little more than a crawl. He would send Lito and Aris's companies to secure the city. Now, they wouldn't be alone. Darunia had volunteered a company of Armos, which contained only fifty of the automatons, to assist.
Once the city was secured, he would begin to send in the militia, to man the walls and fortifications, while the rest of the army formed up. Hopefully, they would secure the town, and have already begun their siege of the castle before Ganon's armies could reach them. If they were caught out on the fields before they could take the city… well, this would be a very short battle. Most of the peasants were guarding the supply train, which had orders to get into the city as soon as the signal was given.
"Sir, messengers under the flag of truce are approaching," a scout reported.
"What kind of messengers?" Donovan asked.
"They're gerudo," the man said harshly.
"I will deal with them, if you like," Impa offered.
"Do it," Donovan said. He couldn't be distracted now, they were almost ready to attack.
Impa rode back with the scout. Three gerudo were staring down the spears of peasant militia, who called taunts and jeers at them. They made way for Impa quickly. The riders did indeed carry a white flag… and she recognized the woman on the middle horse. She gestured for the scout to remain behind, and rode out to the messengers alone. She drew up two lengths away from the women, who were shifting nervously, to be addressed by a shadow-demon.
"I am Impa, elder of the Sheikah, state your message," she barked, in the desert tongue. If anything, that unnerved them more.
The gerudo that had sworn loyalty to her son spoke, "We come, representing Nolamar, first among the clans. She offers terms for alliance against the deceiver, the one you call Ganon. Our sisters will arrive in two days. What is your response?"
Impa stared at the woman. Nolamar was the alias Malon had been given. Malon was leading the gerudo now?
Impa slowly trotted her horse closer, until the women could see the hatred in her eyes, "If you speak truth, then we accept your terms. If you deceive us, there is no distance you may flee far enough, that my clan will not find you."
The gerudo flinched, but wheeled, and departed.
((()))
The armies stared at the blackened landscape, and tried to fight the fear that began to rise within their throats. This was an evil place. The veterans ignored the blighted land grimly. The presence of the fearless Armos among them helped to steady the peasants, as well as the gorons. The horn sounded, two blasts, and the army halted, half a mile from the walls.
Then the horn sounded, one long blast, and the 'attack' commenced. Five hundred disciplined veterans advanced across the blackened earth, with fifty towering stone warriors leading them. A squad of Zoras accompanied the group, guarding their princess.
The soldiers reached the destroyed drawbridge and halted. Ruto quickly began to pull the murky water from the moat into a long, towering mound, leading to the main gate. When she was satisfied with the ramp, she turned it to ice. She'd even scalloped the sides to create guard rails, after a fashion. Then she retreated, back towards the river. It would take several hours for the bridge to melt sufficiently to impede travel into the town.
The Armos advanced across the ice bridge, and past the smashed gates. Their heads swiveled, scanning for enemies.
Lito stood among his men. From the destroyed buildings, things began to stir as living soldiers began to form up in the main plaza. The wind moaned eerily… but the banners lay still. There was no wind.
The ReDeads shuffled into the light of the men's torches, reaching out piteously.
"Set spears!" Lito barked, and the command rippled through the ranks. The undead didn't notice the spears, which had been designed to stop charging moblins. The walking corpses hit the cross bars, and were halted, still trying to press forward.
Men with swords and axes darted forward, removing the spitted ReDeads heads.
One man was either unlucky or over confident, and he came too close to his target, which grabbed his arm. He still managed to take of its head, but not before the corpse broke his arm.
The Armos waded through the bulk of the ReDeads, smashing them to pulp with their clubs, or even simply stepping on them, beyond the line of spears, but were too large to enter the buildings, to search for more surprises. Most of the buildings were dangerous in and of themselves, their wooden beams weakened by fire, and the stones loose from the crumbling mortar. So the Armos simply used their clubs to knock out the few lingering supports, and the two story buildings crumbled, much of the rubble filling their cellars, and crushing any monster that might lurk within… once the trebuchet and biggorons were brought within the walls, they would have a ready supply of ammunition as well.
The few buildings untouched by fire, and still structurally sound, the soldiers reluctantly searched, weapons in hand. Lito made a point of entering first.
The first building had once been a store, or shop of some kind. Although the ground floor was clear, Lito dispatched a pair of ReDeads on the second floor, then he heard cries from the first floor, the clash of steel, and hasty commands. Lito didn't waste time with the stairs, he phased through the cracks in the floor boards, and appeared among the men.
Two soldiers were frantically stabbing their swords through a trap door, while men held the arms of a third, trying to keep him from being pulled deeper into the darkness, hauling on the belts of the men in front, at least eight men in total.
The man in the hole was screaming, a long, drawn out scream of agony, as something tore at him in the dark.
Lito threw a handfull of shadow magic at the rotting limbs that ripped and yanked at the man's legs, and the dead flesh parted as if cut by a razor.
With a crash, the men pulling flew back, hauling their friend out of the dark. Lito dropped through the hole, his straight sword flashing to his left and right, knocking the ReDeads away with kicks and punches when they came too close. When he was finished, he stalked among the dead in the dark, checking for any that still 'lived.'
None remained with heads to bodies. He climbed up the ladder, and the men got to work, hauling the rotting bodies out into the street, where they could be burned, lest plague gain a foot hold. Lito moved on to the next building to be searched.
((()))
This was too easy, and it was making Sir Donovan restless. Ganon should have left a garrison of some kind within Castle Town. It was the first line of defense for the secluded castle, but based on the reports Impa was receiving, only the murdered populace of the town remained to resist them. Impa turned, "The city has been secured."
Several men began to blow horns, and sound the advance for the supply train and soldiers that accompanied it… Donovan felt like he was making a mistake…
((()))
"And so, they set the noose about their necks," Ganon gloated to Zelda.
"Yes. Letting them occupy a highly defensible position and capitalize on their strengths, clearly a master stroke," the princess replied. Ganon's humor did not fade, as he stared into the globe in his hand… and Zelda began to worry.
((()))
The ride had been hard, and the horses grazed upon the plains, stripping it bare in the dim light, but they had left the desert, and crossed the mountains into Hyrule. So great a host of warrior and horse could not shelter within a camp, but fires burned in the night, and warriors stood ready against any stalhounds that might seek to attack. Malon threw down the horse blanket, and saddle, too tired to even bother with the tent. Link disappeared from her side, and when he reappeared, he held a bowl of stew in his hand, which he promptly gave to her. Quite simply, Malon had learned that she was a good rider… but she was still human. Muscles she wasn't even aware she possessed ached.
Fingers dug into her shoulders as she ate, and Malon nearly let go of the bowl, which would have dumped a scalding amount of food in her lap. Carefully, she set the bowl aside, and let her head hang limp, as Link focused on the knots in her muscles.
"Ah…" Malon sighed. She could get used to this.
Taraya watched the mute knight, and once again, wondered at the sword strapped to his back. He had never drawn it in her sight, but he never took it off willingly either. Perhaps it was broken? But that did not make sense. Kiln and Nolamar were not overly sentimental. If it was broken, it was fixed, or else discarded.
"Nolamar, why does your slave carry that sword upon his back?" Taraya asked, curious. The warrior mumbled, leaning her head back to rest against the shoulder of her slave, as he kneaded his knuckles through the muscles of her back.
Taraya repeated the question twice, before the distracted woman answered, "It was his first sword, when he was a knight," Malon said, improvising.
"I have never seen him draw that blade," the girl said, curious. A large wolfos prowled over to where the couple crouched, and lay its muzzle on Kiln's feet, sighing contentedly. The monster still unnerved Taraya. She had locked gazes with it once, and saw only hatred in its green eyes… hatred of her, or perhaps her kind. It followed Kiln, and Kiln followed Nalomar, as Taraya did… but that did not make them allies. The pup wandered over as well, and curled against its mother's back, notched ears perked and swiveling as it listened.
In the distance, there came a chorus of howls, and the barks of fighting Gerudo. Stalhounds, no doubt. The disturbance lasted only half a minute, before the last of the howls was silenced.
((()))
"What are you doing?" Donovan asked Saria.
"Can't you feel it? Something lurks nearby… something terrible," the Sage whispered, as her fighters and wolfos dug around the inner edges of the town's walls, hastily planting their trees like sentinels at equal points around the perimeter. "Can you be more specific?" Donovan asked, in frustration.
Saria shrugged helplessly, "Unfortunately, no…"
One of the biggorons lumbered past, carefully carrying pieces to one of the trebuchets, drowning out conversation for a moment.
"We'll besiege the castle at dawn," Donovan decided, gauging the readiness of the forces within the walls, as tents were set up, and posts taken. The zoras had already claimed the moat as their territory, now that Darunia had used his hammer to remove the blockages that had stagnated the flow of water. Two hundred Armos stood upon the battlements at intervals of fifty feet, tirelessly peering out into the darkness, clubs at the ready.
"Impa, any word of Sheik yet?" Donovan asked, as the woman slipped into the command tent. She shook her head, "Sheik will either succeed, or fail. It is still too soon to tell."
((()))
Dawn came early, but no sun rose to shine upon the blighted lands, if not for Lito's assurances that it was indeed day, Donovan would have thought it only four hours past sunset. At the far edges of vision, light could be seen at the perimeter of the tainted lands, but no ray journeyed forth, as if stymied by the veil. After careful consideration, Donovan decided to leave the militia behind in the city, to hold the walls and gate. Space was at a premium in the shadow of the castle, and the lightly equipped soldiers would likely become fodder for arrows and crows. Besides, the first order of business was to breach the castle gate, and that responsibility would likely fall to the Gorons, almost exclusively. Soldiers would be of no use, not until the gates fell. When that happened, reinforcements could always be sent for…
Torches were distributed, and men from the two veteran companies formed into blocks, before the march upon the winding castle road began. The men were frightened, except for those who stood near a sheikah.
The garrison of armos for the wall was stripped by half, leaving only a hundred of the automatons every hundred feet, but the intervening spaces was occupied by deku scrubs, business scrubs, and skull kids, not to mention a hand full of peasants armed with ranged weaponry. Their only task was to hold the rear, and protect the supplies against attack from the plains, though the Zoras claimed that none would pass the moat alive. Donovan preferred to be prepared for most contingencies. The rest would lead the assault… but it was the Biggorons that held the key to the siege. The trebuchet remained behind, to reinforce the rear guard.
The horns blasted in the prearranged signal, and over a thousand feet began to move, slowed by the winding path.
"So it begins, eh?" Donovan said, smiling sickly at the sheikah beside him.
Impa glanced at him impassively, "The beginning of the end, you mean."
"And so the circle is complete," Donovan said, feeling oddly philosophical. They had fled down this path seven years ago together, with the princess, fleeing Ganon… now the four of them would be within the castle again soon… to pick up where they had left off. Impa did not respond. Such talk was foolish. What was, was… and what would be, would be. Nervous chatter would not change such things.
((()))
"Incoming!" someone screamed, and the veterans raised their shields, as flaming arrows launched from the battlements of the castle, to hang suspended, before beginning their deadly plunge. The armos ignored the barrage, beyond spreading out, and locking their shields overhead, which the puny creatures that had been designated as allies by the heir, took cover beneath, hiding their fleshy bodies from the hail.
Darunia reached out, and touched the flames upon the arrows with his mind.
Burn, he thought gleefully, and the missiles ignited, until only iron arrow heads tumbled through the air, clattering off shields and flesh, though some still caused death and injury.
"Alright, crack that gate!" Darunia bellowed, pointing. The three biggorons ambled forward, each carrying trimmed tree trunks like clubs on their shoulders. Darunia hung back. He'd promised to let them have some fun first. Biggorons had to restrain themselves and their power, so it was nice to be able to let loose once in a while, and really take a swing at something. After wielding the Megaton, Darunia understood the frustration of the Biggorons better than he had. Juvag was the first to reach the gates, and took his club up in both hands, before swinging at the gates. A titanic rumble shook the ground around the castle, as the tree shattered within Juvag's hands… and the gate did not. Now Billag and Korag arrived, conducting a quick game of stone-parchment-knife, to see which of the twin brothers would go next. During all of this, the arrows continued to rain down on the rebel army, but the shelter of the armos proved exceptional. Even though the two veteran companies of warriors were still in the open, their discipline had proven up to the task of maintaining a durable shield wall, while moving to take advantage of the Armos's canopy of shields. Add to that Darunia's pyromaniacal tendencies, and the army was being rained on by lumps of sharp iron. Was this really the best Ganon could do? Donovan wondered, or was he simply toying with them?
((()))
"The giants can pound upon those gates as long as they may wish. They will not fall to the likes of them," Ganon laughed, his scrying globe filling most of the throne room.
Zelda watched mutely from her mother's throne, studying the army arrayed to save her. She was… touched… by the sentiment… but she needed to be here. The intertwining fates had told her such.
"Look. They give up already, they are smarter than I judged," Ganon sneered, as the three large gorons stepped away from the castle gates… and a normal sized goron approached, with a large hammer balanced arrogantly on his shoulder. About his throat a small red object winked.
"A hammer? Such toys will prove no better against my enchantments," Ganon predicted.
The Medallion of Fire. So this must be Darunia… and that is the Megaton, Zelda thought, studying the approaching warrior with interest. She had received reports of the weapon's power from Sheik… but she wished to see it in action.
((()))
Arrow heads poked Darunia's skin, as he continued to incinerate the projectiles during his stroll to the gates. Not even a moat. Still, if you were the most powerful big-bad boss, you would probably get lax too.
"Knock-knock!" Darunia yelled gleefully, hauling the Megaton back… and swung.
((()))
The magic of the scrying globe was temporarily disrupted for a moment… and Zelda felt the stones beneath her throne shudder for a second. Dust had also obscured the gates. When it cleared, it showed a goron scratching his jaw, and staring up at the gates… which had bent in slightly, with cracks running through the mortared stones.
"The megaton," Ganon spat angrily. He threw out a hand, and the gates flowed like water, reforming without any dents, and the walls lost their cracks.
"It would seem you do have something to fear," Zelda noted. She barely felt the dark lord's slap.
Not yet… but soon, she thought… soon her charade would end, and her battle would begin… but not yet.
((()))
"Well… I guess I could keep hitting the gates," Darunia proposed, "See if he can keep up with me?"
Donovan considered the idea. He glanced at Saria and Impa, but neither woman seemed apposed to the plan.
"Go ahead, Darunia," Donovan sighed.
The goron grinned, showing his tomb-stone shaped teeth, before jogging back towards the gates.
"I suspect it will be hard to talk in a moment," Saria noted wryly. No one saw the gesture she made to the demon beside her.
((()))
"Persistent," Zelda said, as the scrying globe continued to flicker in time with the blows of the Fire Sage. Ganon held his hand up now, and sweat was beginning to bead on his brow. The Triforce of Power increased its bearer's power a thousand fold… but it did not make them a god… it merely gave them the mindset of one. The Megaton was taxing Ganon. Soon the man's pride would break, and he would dispose of the Fire Sage in some fashion… but not yet.
((()))
Mido clambered up the side of the castle, leading a handpicked team of skull kids and kokiri to the battlements, as Darunia's unwitting diversion continued. Mido reached the top, and froze, listening. He could hear the clack of bones, the gibbering squeaks of bokoblins and the deeper grunts of moblins… but all he could smell was the reek of death. Mido signaled the other warriors, and waited until the other twenty were in position, just below the battlements.
((Now)) Mido signaled with his closed fist.
The diminutive warriors went unnoticed by the monsters, who were too busy firing arrows at the army below to pay attention to their surroundings. Poisoned blades and barbed arrows quietly found unguarded flesh, as the kokiri slowly crept along behind the Dark Man's forces. They took the ones at the rear, who would not be noticed, but like the spread of a forest, continued to slowly advance, as they murdered the enemy one by one…
Until a bokoblin with no arrows left turned, to find more ammunition, and found itself snout to mask with a kokiri. It managed to scream, a little, before it began to drown in its own blood, but the damage had been done. The moblins, bokoblins, and stalfoes turned, disorientated by the carpet of dead comrades behind them, but not so much that they did not retaliate.
Mido lost two of the slower kokiri, before his team could scatter, and disappear among the shadows and twisted battlements. Then began the game. Some monsters fled down the stair cases, to bring forth reinforcements, some returned to firing at the army below… and the more foolish enemies ventured forth into the darkness, to root out the kokiri, and kill them.
Mido fired an arrow, which lodged in the knee of a bokoblin. The creature began to scream shrilly, which covered any noise the kokiri flanking their own targets might have made. Blades flashed, drawing blood, but often unable to kill, however, the wielder of the blades were rarely seen for longer than a second, before disappearing into hiding again. In this way, over seventy of the enemy died, harassed and confused, following darting shapes and retreating figures across the battlements. Mido lost another warrior to a lucky (and blind) swing from a moblin. Then the reinforcements arrived with torches… and the kokiri slipped back onto the walls, carrying their dead… as well as the arrows and bows of the enemy.
((()))
Donovan watched, nonplussed, as a small column of forest demons slipped into view, each heavily burdened. When they were closer, the knight recognized the objects being carried. Bows, and quivers. Dozens of them.
"Where?" Donovan breathed, confused.
Saria pointed to the top of the castle mutely, in answer.
"Saria, where should we take these?" one demon asked.
The forest sage shrugged, "They're too big for us, give them to the hylians in the city below."
((()))
"The enemy comes," Ruto observed. A black squiggle on the horizon was the first sign of the approaching monsters… but there were many creatures. She heard hylians begin to blow horns, signaling the alarm from the walls behind them.
"Standard tactics," Ruto ordered, and Prince Rulias smiled briefly, his eyes drawing heat to her cheeks, before he bowed, and turned to his fellow guardsmen, relaying her commands… and just like that, three hundred warriors disappeared below the water without a trace.
((()))
"Burt, where'd the zora go?" Samuel asked, peeking over the ramparts.
"Keep you fool head down," Burt grumbled, tugging the young man's tunic forcefully, shoving the idiot behind cover.
"They're still there. I can see shadows in the water," Ian offered, scaring the hell out of his father, who hadn't realized the proximity of Ian.
"I thought you went to the castle," Burt said.
"We did. We killed some monsters, and took their weapons. Saria sent us to give them to you… since we're too small to use them," Ian said, holding out a crude looking bow, with a quiver of shoddy arrows.
"I've never fired a bow before, son," Burt reminded Ian. The boy jerked his masked head towards the oncoming horde, "Fire into that. You're bound to hit something," he suggested.
It wasn't very reassuring. One of the trebuchet crews called out, and part of a destroyed stone wall sailed overhead, at the rapidly growing figures… and crushed half a score as it rolled on impact. There was a cheer from farther left on the wall, and numbers were called back to the trebuchet crew, which couldn't actually see their targets. Unfortunately, as Ian had pointed out, even firing blind, they were bound to hit something.
A few of the gorons had been posted to assist the trebuchet crews, namely transporting ammunition to the slings, which tripled the rate of fire that would have normally been possible.
Burt still couldn't make out individual monsters in the approaching horde, but most were more or less humanoid in shape.
"How many do you think is out there?" Samuel asked, since his eyes were somewhat weak. Burt didn't really have a head for numbers, but he was good at guessing acreage of a field, for determining crop yields. The enemy was pretty densely packed, which slowed them to a crawl, but also kept the ones in front from fleeing. The enemy filled most of the plains in front of the city… and the number wasn't very reassuring.
"Fifty, maybe sixty," Burt estimated.
"Hundred? That doesn't sound right," Samuel argued.
"Thousand," Burt grunted.
Most of the shapes were white… probably stalfos. Nothing stayed dead, like it should, when the Dark Man was involved, Burt thought bitterly.
((()))
"Kitake. Deal with the upstart," Ganon hissed. Zelda saw a withered hag with disturbing blue eyes bow low, and begin to waddle from the room.
"You send old women to do battle on your behalf?" Zelda asked politely, but if Ganon heard her, he gave no sign.
((()))
Darunia kept up his steady rhythm, like he was back in the mines… this was just a particularly troublesome ore seam. Nothing special. He heard insane cackling, and looked up, just in time to see a wrinkly gerudo on a flying broomstick, of all things, swoop down at him. The goron raised the Megaton, and waited, calmly, for her to come within range. He'd swat her aside before she rammed him.
Except, she broke off, when she was only ten meters away, and threw a blizzard at him. Darunia had enough time to open his mouth, but not to swear, before the curse hit him.
Ares snarled, and threw a lance of shadow magic at the witch, furious, that they had lost one of the sages… and Ares had liked the uncouth goron. His antics made her smile… and she had not smiled for almost seven years. The witch threw a counter-curse at her attack, dispelling it into a nimbus of dust, before attempting to freeze the Sheikah solid, if the young warrior hadn't been so agile, the gerudo might have succeeded.
((()))
Malka looked up from where she had been treating a hapless fool for shrapnel to his shoulder, when she felt the wylde magic on the air… and it didn't owe service to her.
"Keep pressure on this bandage," the witch told one of the orderlies, leaving the idiot in the young woman's care. She had an errand to run. Malka took one of the bedrolls with her, as she walked outside…
((()))
"Ladders!" someone screamed, and Burt paused in mid motion, with an arrow on the string of the bow. He risked a quick peek, and saw that yes, the enemy did have ladders… or rather, long poles with handles sticking out from the sides. One pole came to rest beside an armos. The statue set down its club, and grabbed the pole, but instead of pushing it off, the golem began to pull, hand over hand. It took the pole, as well as seven stalfoes clinging to the far end, and tossed it into the courtyard behind it.
Well, I guess that's one way to get rid of a ladder… Burt thought. The goron loaders dealt with the stalfoes quickly, by hitting them with really big rocks. Even as Burt watched though, one of the hastily constructed trebuchet failed. The long throwing arm splintered, from the repeated strain that had been placed upon it in the last hour… pieces of wood tumbled, and men dove for safety. A few were hit by the heavy objects, and did not rise from where they fell. The surviving siege engines continued to propel stones out into the air, to crush the uncounted thousands that swarmed the opposite side of the moat… but it was only a matter of time before they too failed.
((()))
Ruto propelled herself up from the water, her serrated fins scattering the monsters on the flimsy ladder, into the water below, which frothed and seethed with the murderous motions of her hidden warriors. Some monsters survived the crossing, to die (or be disassembled) on the battlements by hylian soldiers and armos. The little shrub-people on the battlements were spitting a near constant stream of stones into the front ranks of the enemy, particularly at the bases of the ladders, hampering the progress of the climbers. The force of the projectiles was sufficient to break bones (especially the exposed bones of the stalfoes).
A zora screamed, head tail clutched by a stalfos, which reeled the struggling warrior up onto dry ground, where fangs and clubs descended upon the aquatic warrior. Her guardsmen killed monsters in the dozens, and the hundreds… but every minute, fewer and fewer fins cut through the waters of the moat… the pressure from the enemy only increased. We are losing, Ruto realized.