Chapter 38: The Last General
The Goddesses were pretty funny, Link reflected. They had told him that Darion was going to the desert, but had neglected to mention that he had an army with him. At least the myriads of footsteps in the soil of Gerudo Valley told him exactly that. At first, he had feared that Darion had assembled the remaining Hylian soldiers from the outlying garrisons and united them under his command, but upon further inspection, the footprints were clearly not Hylian. The prints resembled hooves, but had been made by bipedal creatures, and judging from how deep they were pressed into the soil, these creatures were very heavy.
Link had always listened with keen interest when the older villagers or the occasional traveller had told stories about the many types of monsters living in Hyrule, and, during his youth, assembled a kind of bestiary in his head, and it made him strongly suspect that it had been Moblins that had passed through here – the largest and most dangerous type of monsters, whose kind lived in the northern mountains and regularly descended to raid Hylian villages.
Incidentally, the Moblin penchant for burning down everything in their path only made Link's theory more likely, since the guard tower at the entrance to Gerudo Valley, the only entrance to the desert proper, had been reduced to a half-collapsed, burnt-out ruin, the charred corpses of its former occupants strewn around the building. Fighting against the urge to stay away from the building, Link had approached it and found out that the ashes were cold; the destruction was recent, but more than a few hours ago.
Link considered returning to the North Garrison – surely nobody would begrudge him not facing down an army of monsters. But he decided against it – not out of pride (at least he told himself that), but simply because he was not going to give up so soon. He was going to take a look at this army. Just because he had the Master Sword now did not mean he had to defeat Darion in a fair fight – sneaking up to him and stabbing him in the night was still an option, perhaps even preferable. Link still remembered his duel with the prince way back then, and how badly he had lost to him. What exactly made him think that he could win this time?
I will win because I have to.
Amazed a the silliness of his thoughts, he sighed.
Boy, am I making it sound easy. I'm going to be so surprised when I end up with a sword in my gut.
Fine, then. I solemnly swear to myself that I won't throw my life away, and only attack if I have a reasonably chance of winning.
Leaving the burning remains of the guard tower behind him, Link directed his horse across the narrow bridge over Zora river into Gerudo Valley, which was not so much a valley as a canyon with a single trail in between steep rock faces on both sides. The trail slowly widened as Link rode on, and eventually, a few branching paths diverged from it, but he kept on the main path, as did the footprints of the presumed Moblin army. There was no sign of life, and the only sounds were the hoofbeats of Link's horse and the wind howling through the canyon. Aside from the change of scenery and the slightly drier air, Link's journey continued to be uneventful and even somewhat pleasant; had he not been on a mission to slay an insane would-be god, he would have called it relaxing.
I even got used to riding, Link thought. It's really pretty easy to pick up, once you put it in terms of a choice between staying in the saddle or falling on your ass.
About an hour passed, and the only thing that changed during this hour was that his horse grew increasingly restless as time went by, sniffing the air as though there was a scent that Link could not perceive – and, from what little he knew about horses, that was probably the case. It balked twice for no visible reason, and the second time, Link had to dismount and coax it into moving again, using the most reassuring voice he could muster as well as several carrots. But although the horse moved again, it's speed kept decreasing until it was nothing more than a slow trot, not much faster than walking speed. It became increasingly obvious that something was lying up ahead, and that the horse was not looking forward to meeting this something.
The monsters must have set up camp somewhere nearby, and the horse is picking up their scent. That means Darion must be nearby, too!
Unless the monsters have nothing to do with Darion, of course.
Link considered the thought. Ever since seeing the footprints, he had not questioned the assumption that Darion was involved with this monster army, presumably as their leader, but was this really the case? Darion had the Triforce, after all – what possible reason could he have to walk toward his destination, and enlist a horde of Moblins to accompany him?
Perhaps he's afraid for his life, Link mused. He came so close to death when the arrows struck him, he wants an escort to keep possible enemies at a distance.
But why doesn't he simply wish to become invulnerable to weapons? The Triforce can do that, can't it?
Link had no answer to any of these questions, and no time to consider them, because his horse finally balked for the third and last time, and neither carrot nor stick would get it to move any further. Link decided to take that as confirmation that the enemy was close by, and that the hoofbeats would surely give him away if he chose to ride any further. He dismounted and tied the nervous horse to a withered shrub, promising in a soothing voice that he would come back for it. Taking only his sword and shield, he made sure that his boots were tightly laced up and walked down the canyon, careful to make as little noise as possible.
If it is a camp of monsters and Darion is there, I'll wait until nightfall to make my move, he decided, looking at the sun that was already hanging low in the sky, with only an hour or two left before dusk. And if it's the Gerudo... hm, I guess I'll just walk up to them and say hello.
The trail took a gentle, drawn-out turn in front of Link, rocks obscuring what lay ahead until he followed it. He walked close to the rock face, hoping that his dirty clothes would at least provide some camouflage, and followed the canyon until it opened into a small, closed-off valley. A primitive fortress lay before him; a series of adjacent and presumably interconnected buildings of uniform square shape and with dark, glassless windows. To the far left of the fortress, there was a huge gate, at least twenty feet high and twice as wide, its leafs closed and locked. Beyond it lay the desert that was Darion's destination, and therefore Link's as well. In front of the gate, a mulititude of people had assembled, perhaps a hundred men and women of red and brown hair, wearing mostly white or brown clothing. Link was too far away to see what they were doing, but there was no doubt in his mind that they were Gerudo.
But if the door is locked, then how did the monsters get through? Or did the Gerudo just let them pass without a fight?
Link had planned to simply approach the Gerudo and offer them his greetings – after all, he could scarcely be considered a threatening figure in the face of a hundred people. But there was something about these desert dwellers that made him uneasy and made him approach silently in the shadow of the canyon's rock face. Perhaps it was the fact that his horse had smelled something, and Link had worked with animals for too long to simply dismiss what their superior senses told them. Perhaps it was something about these Gerudo: The way they were just standing there, looking at the closed gate in front of them, with not a sound to be heard outside the moaning of the wind.
Except that it was not the wind that was moaning, because it had fallen still for the first time since Link had entered the canyon. It was the Gerudo.
Something is very wrong here, he thought as he edged closer to the strange assembly, amazed that none of the Gerudo had noticed his presence yet. His disquiet grew when he realized that many of them were not even standing, but crouching down on the ground, their hands around their knees. But only when he came within ten feet's range and saw the terrible wounds, the dead eyes and the pale skin of the motionless, almost statuesque Gerudo did his disquiet turn into fear as realization struck him.
ReDead!
Suppressing the urge to gasp, Link gulped, and the sound of it seemed loud enough to echo throughout the whole valley. That was only his imagination, of course, but it made him realize that he was only a single loud noise away from becoming the target of a hundred walking dead. He recalled the stories he had soaked up so eagerly as a child, speaking of blind, animated corpses who paralyzed their victims with blood-chilling screams before feasting on them.
I'm lucky I even made it this far without being noticed¸ Link thought as he backtracked, trying to maintain a sense of composure. There's no need to panic, he told himself. At least not as long as they don't notice me. Then I can panic.
Putting a safe distance between himself and the ReDead (the stories told that they walked with the slowness one would expect from corpses, but he would rather not put the veracity of those stories to the test), Link returned to the valley's entrance and allowed himself to exhale loudly, thanking the Goddesses for his luck. Both his heart and mind raced as he tried to make some sense of what he was seeing.
Darion and his monsters passed through here – the footprints lead all the way to the fortress, so there's no doubting that. The monsters attacked the fortress and killed the Gerudo who lived there; then Darion used the Triforce to reanimate them. Which leaves the question: Is he inside or has he already moved on past the gate?
The Goddesses had told Link that Darion was on his way into the desert, so he assumed that the latter was the case. Of course this led to an even more pressing question: How would he get past the ReDead guarding the gate, who would paralyze him and devour him if he got close, if the stories were to be trusted? The canyon's tall, steep rock faces were a natural barrier against the desert that lay beyond, and although he spent some time overlooking them, Link found no possible place to climb them. The only way, then, was through the gate.
Damn it! It's almost like Darion put them there to stop pursuers... which is what he did, naturally. Does that mean I have no choice but to turn back without accomplishing anything?
The sounds of a man walking and something being dragged across the soil made Link raised his head, and he almost gasped once again when he saw the skeletal warrior with the gold-plated helmet come out of one of the fortress's buildings, dragging the body of a tall Gerudo male behind him. The man was alive and struggling against his captor, but the Stalfos held him in a secure grip, pinching the man's wrists between his upper arm and forearm, and pulled him behind him toward the gate and the ReDead waiting there.
It's him! The one from Gadrin Village... and from Keeptown.
Wait, he's not going to feed this man to them, is he?
However, to Link's great relief, his gruesome fears did not come to pass. Instead, the Stalfos stopped before he reached the ReDead, threw back his skull and shouted, his magical voice level and controlled – perhaps too controlled, for Link believed that he heard suppressed emotions. Then again, who could tell with a Stalfos?
"Gerudo leader! Are you still there?"
"I am," a male voice could be heard from the other side of the gate, barely audible for Link, who was a good distance away. As far as he could tell, the voice was not familiar to him.
"I brought your proof – one of my hostages! Try to breach this gate and I will kill them!"
A Stalfos trying to negotiate? This is getting stranger by the second...
"I do not see any proof," the voice from beyond the gate called out. "Nor do I hear it."
"You!" The Stalfos shook his captive by the wrists. "Tell him!"
"Don't listen to him, brother!" the man yelled over the gate. "Attack! Do whatever you can to destr-aargh!"
Dissatisfied with his hostage's performance, the Stalfos had struck him in the face, and only the fact that he was still holding him with his other hand stopped the Gerudo from collapsing.
"Astalor!" the voice outside called. "Brother! How did you-"
"Enough!" The Stalfos shouted, his voice shrill, his composure suddenly gone. "This fool may not value his life, but you heard his voice! Would you have me cut his throat right now, so you can hear his death rattle?"
"No, don't!" The voice of the invisible Gerudo leader was trembling. "Don't kill him!"
"I say forget about me!" the hostage shouted. "You have to-"
Again the Stalfos struck his captive, this time hard enough to knock him out. The male Gerudo went limp and the Stalfos let go of him, dropping him to the ground with a soft thump. The ReDeads moved their heads when it happened, having listened to the strange proceedings around them, but did not make any move. Link concluded that they were beholden to the Stalfos and would not attack his hostage without permission.
"You have one hour," the skeletal warrior shouted, "to get away from the gate and out of sight. Otherwise, all of the hostages will die!"
"Wait!" the pleading voice shouted. "Let's negotiate! There must be something you want!"
"There is only one thing I want: Death, and the only way to give it to me is to attack and defeat me. But the lives of these hostages will be the price. My orders allow nothing less." The Stalfos turned on the spot, seized the unconscious hostage by the collar, and dragged him back toward the closest building. "That is all!"
"Wait! Please, wait!" the unknown Gerudo kept shouting from beyond the wall, but the Stalfos did not react and vanished inside with his hostage, and did not leave the building again. The man outside gave up and fell silent, and soon, the occasional moans of the ReDeads were the only sounds that punctuated the silence of Gerudo Valley.
Let's see, Link recapitulated. There's an army of Gerudo outside of this gate, but they won't attack out of fear for the hostages. Or will they?
If only I could open the gate, then a battle would be unavoidable!
Which left only the question how he was supposed to open the gate without making a sound while being surrounded by a hundred ReDead.
I could try to lure them away with noise, and circle around them... if they're slow enough. But that would also alert the Stalfos, who's probably sitting somewhere inside. Ah, what to do...
Of course! I'll free the hostages! Then the Gerudo outside can scale the gate and attack witout fear!
Freeing the hostages was easier said than done, of course, since the Stalfos inside most likely kept close watch on them, possibly with more ReDead in reserve. Not to mention that he could far more easily be surrounded and trapped inside the fortress than outside, where only a short dash separated him from his horse.
But I can at least sneak inside and take a look, he decided. After all, I was pretty close to the ReDead just now, and they didn't hear me. So all I have to do is stay quiet and keep my eyes open for that Stalfos.
Link nodded to himself to give himself a bit of extra courage and slowly walked toward the closest entrance of the fortress; not the one the Stalfos had entered (he was not quite that courageous), but rather one leading into small a two-story building at the edge of the compound. He kept his eyes on the ground as he walked, wary of anything that could make a sound if he stepped on it, and reached the door without incident.
The building was essentially one large storeroom with a ladder leading up to the second floor, housing a number of water barrels as well as near-empty food crates, disquieting proof of the Gerudos' poverty. Thirsty from his passage through the canyon and intent on preserving his own water supplies, Link cupped his hands and brough them close to one of the water barrels, only to withdraw them quickly when he saw the black, viscous liquid inside, which was anything but water. There was a second barrel containing the same liquid, whose taste and sight were somehow familiar, and he spent a few seconds trying to remember what it was before the name came back to him.
Petroleum!
People in Valhart, and all of Hyrule, as far as Link knew, used animal or vegetable oil for lighting lanterns, but the black oil that came out of the earth burned far longer and brighter than any agricultural produce. Unfortunately, the trade embargo against the Gerudo prevented petroleum from reaching the citizens of Hyrule in appreciable quantities, and only a few daring smugglers occasionally managed to bring more than a sample out of the desert. It was when one of these free-spirited merchants had come to Valhart to sell his goods at an outrageous price that Link had first learned of the black oil, watching the smuggler burn some of it in the village square as a product demonstration.
They must be careful with torches around here, he idly thought. If so much as a spark were to fall into one of these barrels...
Of course! That's it!
Link eagerly put his hands around one of the petroleum barrels and tentatively lifted it an inch above the ground, just to see if he could. It was heavy, but not too heavy to carry, and he was used to physical labour. Carrying out the idea that had come to his mind just now was not going to be pretty, but it would probably solve the biggest of his problems, so he was going to do it. After all, he had a mission to fulfill.
Setting aside the search for the hostages for later, Link lifted the first of the two barrels again and slowly carried it outside, his gait slow and careful, his head peeking above the barrel. There was a slight difference in altitude between the fortress and the gate, perhaps two or three feet, turning the path to the gate into a gentle slope. Link made his way to the top of that slope, a distance of twenty feet between him and the closest ReDead, and put the barrel on the ground with excruciating slowness, only letting go when he was sure that it would not fall over as soon as he withdrew his hands. Then he quickly sneaked back into the storeroom, taking a short break to catch his breath, and repeated the process with the second barrel. Once he had put it down, he looked nervously at the silent fortress and its empty windows, wary of the Stalfos inside.
Well, if he sees me, he'll come out and let me know, so I shouldn't worry about it.
Link returned to the storeroom one last time and found several torches and flints on the second floor, saving him the time to go back to his horse to get a torch of his own. He lit it while still inside the storehouse, then walked over to the barrels and put the torch down at a safe distance, careful not to put out the fire. The lull in the wind still persisted, and the flame continued to burn. Link hesitated for a moment, wondering whether his plan was not too extreme, but he dismissed such concerns out of hand.
There's no time to waste by standing around, he told himself. That Stalfos' deadline is going to run out sometime. I have to act now!
Once again Link looked at the multitude of ReDead, their bodies deathly pale, standing or crouching down in front of the gate, their dead eyes staring into nothingness as they moaned infrequently.
If anything, I'll be doing them a favour.
That thought was enough to renew his resolve, and Link knocked over the two barrels of petroleum. He had placed them so close to the slope that it took little effort to overbalance them, and they spilled their viscous contents down the slope toward the ReDead. The black stream moved fast and reached the first of the reanimated Gerudo, flowing around their feet and on toward their brothers and sisters. They did not fail to react when the oil touched their feet, but most of them merely moaned and turned their heads, confused by the sensation they were feeling. Link walked over to the torch, slowly picked it up and returned to the toppled barrels.
Not yet, he cautioned himself. I have to wait until the oil reaches all of them... and hope that these are all of them.
Link did not have to wait long before the pool of petroleum extended around the feet of even the farthest ReDead. He knelt down on the ground, covered his face with one arm and tossed the burning torch into the oil slick, keeping its arc as small as possible so it would not go out before it landed.
There was a whooshing sound, and a pillar of fire several feet high erupted where the torch landed, spreading quickly and travelling down the oil slick toward the Re-Dead. A wave of heat assaulted Link, and though his face was protected, it was severe enough to force him away from the fire, half-crawling, half-leaping backwards. A choir of drawn-out moans told Link that his plan had succeeded even before he dared look at the flames; a crescendo of wailing and sighing that quickly ebbed off and soon ceased entirely. The now-familiar smell of burnt flesh attacked his nostrils, reminding him of the annihilation of Hyrule's army at Darion's hands. But Link managed to keep the memories of that horrible day at bay by reminding himself that he was saving these people from a fate worse than death rather than truly killing them.
I wonder whether the gate will catch fire – hm, no. The spill didn't reach far enough for that. And there's enough room to pass through it if you walk in single file, even with the fire nearby. Now I only have to find the switch...
"What have you done?"
The outraged voice coming from the fortress served as an abrupt reminder that there was at least one of the undead still 'alive' – the golden-helmeted Stalfos whose actions had already caused Link nothing but trouble during the incident at Gadrin. He came racing out of the building, his broadsword in hand, and stared at the lake of fire where his minions once had been.
"You fools!" he shouted in the direction of the gate. "I don't know how you did it, but... " The sound of the flames cracking and swooshing probably made him difficult to understand, and Link was sure that the Gerudo on the other side could not even hear him.
He doesn't see the barrels. He thinks it was their work, somehow. And after I went through all that trouble...
"Now I must kill your friends!" the Stalfos shouted and turned around, approaching the fortress again.
"Hold it!" Link shouted before he knew it. "This is my doing!" The Stalfos froze and looked at him, his sword pointed in Link's direction. "Credit where credit is due, right?" he shouted and laughed, trying to distract himself with hollow bravado from the fact that he had now drawn the skeletal warrior's attention.
"You idiot!" the Stalfos yelled and strode toward Link. "Who are you? You had nothing to do with this! Why do you force me to kill you?"
Trust me, that's the one thing I'm not trying to do, Link thought and made a few steps backwards to increase the distance between himself and the ongoing, petroleum-fueled blaze. His hands moved to draw sword and shield, hesitating for a second when he almost drew his old blade, then removed the Master Sword from its sheath.
This will be the first I use it in real combat, he thought as he glanced at the blade – was the slight glow a reflection of the fire, or did it come from the sword itself? Link had no time to ponder the question, because the Stalfos Knight was upon him and brought down his large sword on Link's shield, which he just barely moved in position to block the attack.
Stupid! Don't get distracted by worthless observations!
The force of the blow traveled through Link's body and spread through it, allowing him to absorb most of it while retaining safe footing, with only his upper body moving backwards slightly.
This is not going to be easy... but maybe there's another way.
Ordinarily, wasting one's breath during a fight was a foolish move, but the Stalfos seemed conflicted somehow – "why do you force me to kill you?" he had asked. Also, Link recalled his words during the incident in the ruins of the Keep, when he had pleaded with his Moblin master to allow him to die, and been swiftly denied. His reasons for fighting were clearly not his own, and there might be an opening there that he could capitalize on just as decisively as on an opening in his defence.
"I know you," Link said between his teeth while blocking another strike. "You were once a general! A good man!" He still remembered Thallius' words about the general who had fallen in battle along with his troops. "Why are you doing this?"
"I don't want to do it!" the Stalfos exclaimed, hesitating a little between attacks. "But I can't help it... I'm being compelled by black magic!"
"Why aren't you fighting it?" Link shouted and counterattacked, trying to push his foe toward the burning oil spill. Even if he could not talk him out of it, he might just distract him for long enough to defeat him – a cheap and kind of low strategy, but perfectly justifiable while fighting for one's life.
"Fighting it? Ha! You don't know what you're talking about, boy!" The Stalfos stood his ground close to the fire and regained the offensive, infuriated by Link's words.
This isn't working out like I thought it would...
"If you see a man falling off a mountain, do you berate him for not fighting gravity?" the former general asked and hit Link's shield with a blow strong enough to put a dent in its iron frame. "Answer me!"
"This isn't the same thing!" Link protested. "This is about willpower!"
"You're a young fool who knows nothing!" the Stalfos shouted, his skull face as expressionless as ever, but his voice dripping with contempt. "Willpower? What is this thing? Can you show it to me?" Unconcerned with such mundane things as breathing, he kept up his savage attacks while shouting at Link. "Is there an organ that produces it? A drug that releases it? A magic spell that bestows it?" Taken aback by the hopelessness in his voice, Link hesitated, unsure of what to say in reply.
"Come on, answer me! Surely you can show me the secret of this 'willpower', you who seems so well-versed in it!" There was terrible mockery in the Stalfos' voice, as if he had detached himself from his despair and was now taking great delight in his own suffering, daring Link to give him an answer just so he could mock him more. He even eased off in his attacks, perhaps to give Link time to think about his words.
Perhaps he's right, he thought. What do I know about the magic that binds him?
Maybe there's no opening here for me, after all.
"You say nothing!" The Stalfos' voice was triumphant as if he had just gored Link on his sword. "You admit defeat! There is no such thing as willpower!" He attacked again, more furious this time.
"Now you see it, don't you? There are some things in the world that you cannot change, forces that you cannot go against, no matter how hard you try. There is no hope for me, except to pray for death." He sneered derisively. "But a boy like you can't give that to me."
We'll see about that, Link thought, raised the Master Sword over his head and attacked. The Stalfos made a step back to better parry Link's strike and almost moved into the fire, then surprised Link by leaping high into the air above his head, landing some fifteen feet behind him, well clear of the fire, then turned around and charged at Link. Realizing that he was now the one closer to the fire, he ran toward his enemy in order to meet him as far away from the flames as possible, to avoid being backed into a very painful death. Sparks flew when their swords clashed, and Link's sword arm vibrated in pain from the unnatural force the Stalfos put into his strikes.
I can't hold out against his strength for much longer, he realized. And since talking didn't work, I have to defeat him. But how?
A number of ideas raced through Link's mind, ranging from feigning a moment of weakness to lure his enemy in, to going on an all-out attack, exhausting all his reserves in an attempt to overpower him. For each idea he came up with there was an obvious drawback, and so he stayed indecisive for a minute, reduced to passively blocking and parrying the Stalfos' attack while trying to stay far away from the fire.
This is pointless! Every move has its dangers! I just have to go with something before he wears me out.
In a sudden flash of reckless inspiration, Link hurled his shield toward the Stalfos, having pushed back his sword after a parry, and used his now free right hand to draw his old sword from its scabbard. The shield hit the Stalfos square in the chest, and although it did not push him back, it distracted him for a second; long enough for Link to lunge forward and attack him with a weapon in each hand. The helmet protected his head and neck, so he went for the Stalfos' arms, hoping to cut them off. His foe recovered just in time to move his arm and parry the attack, but Link had anticipated that: He moved the blade in his off-hand down the length of the Stalfos' own sword toward the cross guard, pushing it toward his right side. At the same time, he reached out with his left arm and brought down the Master Sword on the Stalfos' arms, cutting off both bones of the right lower arm, just barely missing the left.
Got you!
The Stalfos yelled when his right hand fell to the ground of the valley, not in pain (he probably felt no pain at all), but in anger. He maintained a strong grip on his sword with his left hand, though, and used it to immediately counterattack Link, who dropped his old blade and seized the Master Sword with both hands to parry the incoming strike.
It worked! I have halved his strength, and I can fight him on even grounds.
The Stalfos' angry scream seamlessly turned into a resounding laugh, as if Link's sudden advantage was somehow a good thing for him.
"Good! Very good! I underestimated you!" He kept up his attacks, but his blows were noticeably less powerful now, and Link had no problems with parrying them all. "Perhaps you're the one I hoped for..." His voice suddenly sounded hopeful. "Perhaps you're the one to kill me!"
"I'm always trying to help," Link said dryly and went on the offensive. Even with one of his arms severed, the Stalfos still held the advantage that he could not tire, and thanks to the hot, dry air from the nearby fire, Link was already covered in sweat and breathing heavily. No more talking now, damn it! he admonished himself. What's with this stupid need to make witty remarks, anyway?
"I was wrong about you," the Stalfos suddenly began. "You may be able to kill me."
What's this now? You said that already! Can't we just fight silently?
"Perhaps I was wrong about that other thing, too."
What are you trying to tell me?
"What I said before, about willpower... it reeks of excuses. I never made excuses in my life. It sickens me how low I've sunk. But the anguish I've suffered... the things I've done... They are enough to reduce even the strongest man to a whining caricature of his former self."
Look, I'm sympathizing, but-
"Promise me one thing," the former general said and looked at Link across locked blades, his voice no longer pleading, but demanding. "You will not tell anybody about the excuses I made. Tell them instead that General Belemor was not as strong as everybody thought he was... neither his body nor his will."
The Stalfos looked at Link expectantly, dragging his sword just a bit too slowly to parry his latest attack in time. The Master Sword hit him in the chest, breaking several ribs in the process, and knocked him on his back, sending his gold-plated helmet rolling away. He raised his remaining arm again and tried to strike at Link, but it was too late: In a quick movement, Link dropped to one knee, raised the Master Sword over his head and severed the Stalfos' left arm at the elbow.
"I promise," he said simply.
"Good," the former general said, no longer trying to get up. "Now kill me!"
"If that is your wish," Link said and raised his sword again. "Farewell." He brought down the Master Sword on the Stalfos' neck, no longer protected by the helmet's neckguard, and decapitated him in one strike. The skull rolled down the slope toward the burning oil spill, vanished into the flames, and was gone.
Of all the terrible ways for him to end, this was probably the best one, Link thought, and for the first time in his life appreciated the notion of mercy killing. Just to make sure that the headless skeleton would never rise again, as powerful Stalfos were reputed to do sometimes, Link took the time to gather most of the larger bones and threw them into the fire where they quickly burned to ashes.
"... going on over there?"
"... answer me, you..."
Oh, that's right, Link thought when he heard the voices from beyond the large gate, barely audible over the sizzling of the flames. I should probably open the door now.
Link picked up his shield and old sword, then circled around the burning oil spill. When he approached the far side of the gate, he found that there was a small door built into the gate's right wing, locked with two large, but movable metal bars.
That makes things easier, he thought, and looked up at the gigantic bar that secured the gate proper. There's no way anyone can move these doors without some kind of mechanism, which I'd have to find first.
"I'm opening the door now!" he called over the gate and heaved the lower of the two bars.
"Who are you?" a dull male voice sounded from beyond the door.
"I'm not an enemy, so don't poke me with sharp objects!" Link shouted and lifted the second bar, unlocking the door. Then he took several steps back and shouted: "It's open! But beware the fire!"
The door flew open, and a Gerudo warrior stepped into the frame, a curved sabre in each hand and a suspicious look on his dark-skinned face. Link raised a hand and waved, and the man raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not an enemy," Link repeated. "Your people can come through now. There may be some ReDead left in the fortress, though."
The Gerudo looked at Link as though he had been speaking Moblin, then disappeared back through the door, presumably to report to his leader. Link merely shrugged and waited.
They're probably confused as all hell. I know I would be.
After few minutes' worth waiting, a dozen Gerudo came through the gate, all of them men, and all of them warriors except one, who was surrounded by the others; the leader, most likely. He seemed about forty years old, had red, unkempt hair and a short moustache. He glanced at Link, but then his gaze moved on to the fire that was still burning hotly, and the charred figures lying therein. There was no way he could recognize them, but it did not take a big leap in logic to realize that they could only have been his tribespeople. To his credit, he did not linger too long on them and approached to Link, sending all but two of his bodyguards into the fortress to scout for remaining enemies.
"You did this?" he asked Link without introducing himself and pointed at the fire. Link recognized his voice as that of the man who had talked to Belemor when the former general had given his ultimatum.
"Yes," he nodded. "But they had been turned into ReDead – walking corpses raised by dark magic. Basically, they were already dead." He recalled Belemor's anguish and despair and wondered whether the reanimated Gerudo had felt similar emotions. "I know it sounds harsh, but this was probably for the best."
"Walking corpses..." The Gerudo leader shook his head, his eyes closed, allowing himself a moment of grief. "Yes, that sounds like him. I already saw some of his handiwork, so..." He opened his eyes and looked at Link. "Excuse me for being so discourteous. I am Garanth, King of the Gerudo. Would you give me your name?"
"I'm Link."
"Allow me to express my gratitude, Link. You saved my tribespeople from a fate worse than death." The king bowed before Link, and his two guards followed suit.
It's a good thing he sees it like that, Link thought even as he blushed. Otherwise, I'd be in big trouble. And it's nice being appreciated for a change.
"I also took care of the Stalfos who was in command of the ReDead," he said, trying not to sound overly casual, "so there shouldn't be much resistance inside, if any."
"That's good to know," Garanth said. Then: "Do you know whether my brother is alive?"
"Your brother? You mean the hostage from before? The Stalfos went through the effort of dragging him back inside, so I think he's alive, although he may have a headache."
"I hope he is," Garanth said. "Astalor... what a courageous fool, telling me to let him die."
"Uhm... if you don't mind my asking..." Link hesitated. "What would you have done when the time was up? Would you have retreated, or tried to destroy the gate?"
Garanth looked to the ground and shook his head. "That I do not know. I was thinking about it.... about sacrificing my brother for the good of my people." He smiled at Link. "You saved me from having to make that decision. You have my personal gratitude for that, too."
Excellent. Since he's in my debt, he's bound to help me track down Darion.
Link nodded awkwardly, slightly ashamed of his calculating thoughts, and Garanth addressed his guards.
"Go back through the gate and have everyone ready to move into the fortress. I'll let you know once we're sure it's safe."
"Your majesty, we..." The guard's voice trailed off, his eyes darting to the swords Link carried.
"Please do it. I insist."
"All right."
With a last suspicious glance at Link, the two Gerudo warriors vanished through the open door back to the other side of the gate.
Sending one of them would have been enough. This is a deliberate show of trust. I think I like this king.
"Now, Link, I'd like to – ah, praise the Sand Goddess! He's alive!"
Link turned around and followed Garanth's gaze. Three Gerudo were coming out of the closest exit of the fortress; one man and two women. The man was the same who had been dragged outside by Belemor earlier – the brother of the king, it seemed. The two women looked completely identical, except that one of them wore a golden necklace with a glowing blue gemstone. Link recognized them immediately.
Whoa! They're alive, too! I thought Darion had them skewered or something.
"It's good to see you, Astalor," Garanth greeted his brother. "And you two, as well," he told the two women, "although I have no idea how any of you made it here before us."
"The Arbiter was nice enough to send us here," one of the women said. "Although I would have respectfully declined if I had known the place was swarming with the undead. Brrr." She shivered and looked at Link, whom she seemed to have noticed only now. "Hey, it's you!"
"That's my line," Link replied and frowned as he tried to remember the twins' names. The sisters seemed to misunderstand his scowl, because they shared an anxious look and coughed apologetically.
"Uh... look, it's not like what you're thinking," one of them said.
"What do you think I'm thinking?" Link asked, confused.
"We didn't sell the Triforce to Darion, or anything. He sent monsters to take it back from us, and we almost died defending it!"
"We're very sorry about what happened to your town," her sister said.
"How did you know?" Link asked. "I thought you escaped from Keeptown back then!"
"Ah, it's kind of, a long story," the woman said. "Yo, Garanth!" she addressed her king, evading Link's questioning look. "We talked the Arbiter into helping you! And we're here to fight alongside you, just to show a certain chauvinistic dumbass what's what."
"There was no holding them back," the king's brother shrugged.
"Don't worry, these two can handle themselves – if nothing else," the king replied.
"Wait a second. What's that supposed to mean?"
"At any rate," Garanth ignored her, "I'm happy you were successful, Astalor. With the Arbiter on our side, we will rout that foul wizard and his monstrous army."
"Yes, go ahead and ignore us."
"I'm not ignoring you, Koume. On the contrary, I'm-"
"I'm Kotake," the woman corrected the king. "Koume is the crazy one here."
"I'm not crazy!" her sister protested.
"You totally were, back then."
"That's... that's because of the ReDead, and the scream, and he almost bit me, and I thought I was going to die, and then the Stalfos pushed me into the hole, and started whining again, and... and..." She raised her palms into the air. "Come on, anybody would panic a little in that situation!"
"You were laughing like a crazy witch," Kotake insisted.
"But I'm all right now," Koume said.
"Let it be, Kotake," Astalor said. "All of us were deathly afraid, and we're lucky to be alive at all."
"You have to thank Link here for that," Garanth said. "He destroyed all the ReDead and their master single-handedly."
The three former hostages stared at Link with their mouths open.
"He did?"
"Are you kidding?"
"That's an impressive feat, to say the least."
"Heh, yes, well... you could say I'm pretty resourceful when I need to be." Link blushed again. Oh, damn it, he's only saying the truth! There's no need to be ashamed of it!
"Lovely necklace," he said to Koume, trying to change the topic. "Did you get that so people can tell you two apart?"
"Oh, that..." She clutched the necklace with both hands, as if she was afraid of losing it. "No, I just borrowed it."
"And then you went and lost it after five minutes," Kotake mocked.
"Well, excuse me, but a ReDead was trying to eat me!" Koume jabbed her sister in the stomach. "But I picked it back up right after we were freed, and that's what counts!"
They were interrupted when the Gerudo warriors returned from the fortress, reporting to their king that there were no ReDeads left inside. Garanth acknowledged their report and had them inform the people waiting outside. Before long, a steady stream of Gerudo, both warriors and civilians, came walking through the small door in single file, being quickly led past the burned corpses of their tribespeople into the empty fortress.
"I'll explain things to them later," Garanth said. "We were prepared to find all the fortresss inhabitants dead, so it's not that much of a shock."
"We will avenge them soon enough," Astalor said coldly. An uncomfortable silence set in, only to be quickly interrupted by Koume addressing Link.
"So, Link, what are you doing here anyway? You weren't looking for us, were you?"
"No," Link shook his head. "In fact, I thought you two were dead."
"Oh, my..."
"I'm here to kill Darion."
"Ah, figures," Kotake nodded. "I always thought you looked like the crazy type. No offence."
"And you came alone?" Koume asked with barely hidden awe.
"Yes," Link said. "But there's a good reason for that."
"Well, now you can join us," Koume said cheerfully. "Because we're going to rip that genocidal maniac to shreds, and his monsters with him!"
"Your boundless optimism amazes me," Astalor said.
"That's understandable, seeing how you embarrassed yourself against that Stalfos," Kotake said with pursed lips. "I mean, not only did you lose, he even broke your sword!" She snorted. "And you were trying to tell us to stay at home. Seriously..."
"If I recall correctly," the king's brother replied, "I was the only one who at least managed to trade blows with him, while certain other people got themselves knocked into a hole before the fight even started."
"Hey, at least I have an excuse," Koume protested. "I was totally out of it at that time!"
"Fine, let's agree that we're all different degrees of pathetic," Kotake said. "Darion is going to have a field day with us."
"I hate to interrupt your loving banter," Garanth said, "but you have one thing wrong: The man who is our common enemy is not Prince Darion... at least not anymore."
"What?" Link stared at Garanth, unsure whether he had heard him right. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's difficult to explain," the Gerudo King said. "In fact, I can't explain it at all. But I know for certain that the body of Prince Darion has been taken over by the spirit of a wizard named Malark."
Now it was Link's turn to open his mouth and stare.
"Malark? Are you serious?" But Arnu said he was dead! Whoa... wait a minute...
"Malark? You don't mean the creepy wizard who tried to frame you?" Koume asked Garanth.
"The very same."
"That... that actually makes a whole lot of sense," Link said earnestly. "I mean... wow. I'd never have imagined something like this was possible, but it explains a lot."
So Darion was only really Darion when I met him for the first time? And every other time after that, it was this old wizard? Damn it... I bet Arnu had no idea, either!
"Perhaps that's why he couldn't use the Triforce," Kotake suggested.
"What's a Triforce?" Garanth asked.
"Oh boy," Kotake sighed.
"Indeed," Link said. "I think we have to sit down and thoroughly exchange information."
"Agreed," Garanth said. "There are many questions I need to ask all of you, and probably some that I can answer." He looked at the burning oil spill, then at the fortress. "But I have to talk to our people first. They have no idea what happened here, and they're entitled to an explanation."
"I'll join you, brother," Astalor said. "But first, I need to go to the armory and get a new sword."
"Yeah, we could use some replacement sabres ourselves," Kotake agreed. "Unless the mighty Astalor thinks that the only weapon women need are fruit knives."
"Oh cut it out already," Astalor sighed. "I'm taking back everything I ever said about women, all right?"
"Only if you really mean it... but I don't think you do."
"All right," Garanth interrupted them. "Let's meet up at this spot in, say, fifteen minutes. Link, I trust that is all right with you?"
"Uh, yes. I have to get my horse, anyway." And think about a lot of things on the way.
"We should call the Arbiter, too," Koume said and pointed at her necklace. "He wouldn't like not being informed, I think."
"But he said he was going to practice his spells," Kotake said. "It's in our best interest to let him do that. We can bring him up to speed when we meet up near the oasis."
"Who's this Arbiter you're talking about?" Link asked. "Later," Koume replied with a grin.
"Well, that's decided, then." Garanth nodded at his fellow Gerudo, then at Link. "I'll see you then." With that, the king vanished in the closest fortress entrance, while Astalor and the twin sisters walked toward one of the smaller structures close to the storehouse. Link shook his head, trying to get a grasp on the revelation he had just received, and trod toward the entrance for the valley where his horse was waiting for him.
This changes everything, he thought. Or does it?
No, not really. Darion or Malark, he still has the Triforce, and he used it to destroy Keeptown. He has to be stopped. No, he recalled the warnings of Janos and Arnu, he has to be killed.
Of course the Gerudo might yet prove troublesome, as useful as their assistance could be, since they might not be ready to simply let Link leave with the Triforce. But he would cross that bridge when he came to it.