Hiraeth pins the last shirt on the clothesline just as his youngest sister comes charging out of the house with the other three not far behind. He catches Saso before she can put her sticky hands on the clean sheets. She shrieks with joy as he swings her up into the air and tucks her upside down under one arm.
"Take them to the orchard, or the stream, or the market - I care not! Somewhere, anywhere else for the love of Light," cries his stepmother from the house. Her belly is moon-round again in the year he is twelve, but he's overheard the doctor say it might not last. Again.
Hiraeth bows. "I shall carry them all away a-questing at once my lady. Only have mercy on your brave knights! Bestow upon your favorite champion a token, so it may lift the spirit of your host whensoever they look upon it."
His stepmother laughs, and draws from the pocket of her sweater a lace handkerchief that has already seen better days. "You are the silliest children. Go on - all of you - follow Hiraeth. Give me an afternoon of peace, and then we will think of discussing feast preparations."
Ishi launches a race to collect the handkerchief, and the twins actually let her win. They steal sticks from the kindling bin, falling in behind her as her loyal squires. The twins cannot, however, resist stopping for a duel or three before he manages to herd them even to the bottom of the garden.
He lifts Saso onto his shoulder and shortly regrets it, for she loves to put her grubby fingers in his short hair. "Thank you, my sweet. How did you know I love wearing jam almost as much as I love eating it?"
Saso squeals in delight.
"Hibi - will you play with us? Baba isn't home today either," says Ishi, twirling the handkerchief above her head. "He promised to take us fishing but he's been gone forever and we're going to miss all the good weather before he ever comes home and then it will rain and I will catch more worms than you this time and I have a hole in my best sirwal but momma is fixing it all better."
"Play? What is this strange custom your country keeps?" Hiraeth tsks at them, herding them all through the gate.
"Hibi! Don't be stupid," groans Myra.
"Can we go swimming hibi?" Kyra adds, swinging her stick at the tall grass.
"No! Story," shouts Saso.
"How about," he says, drawing out the word until all his sisters are groaning at him. "Apples?"
The girls cheer.
So they walk to the orchard singing the apple song, with a minor detour to wash in the stream. But that is mostly because of Saso and her jam.
He recites the story of the White Sword while they hunt through the fallen leaves looking for mostly-good apples, and the much-edited one about the Green Knight and the Maiden while they laze about in the dappled shade.
On the way back they demand to hear again how Zelda the Great met with the envoy from the South Forest, and gained the alliance of the Lady of Flowers. The twins have figured out this really means her future consort and the Great Fairy of his lands, but today they are good and don't contradict him. Ishi is bored of that story, and keeps interrupting to ask when the Questing Beast will show up.
So he weaves the two together, embroidering the tale still further with their favorite themes, and every question they pepper him with. It becomes absurd, but they are all laughing, even Saso, who is too little to understand much.
The twins demand he do the voices - and when his rendition of the Green Knight does not meet their approval, they declare themselves to be the Queen's two best knights, Gren and Blu. So and so - the Questing Beast pursues Zelda across the countryside - or at least through Tambol's upper pasture - and Hiraeth is too tired to argue when they hit upon the idea of collecting crabapples to battle him with.
Somewhere between the pasture and the garden, Ishi decides she is bored of being Zelda, and declares herself the Knight of Rorg instead. Hiraeth runs ahead to the garden so they will have a castle to storm, and persuades Saso to sit under the empty laundry basket and be their captive princess this time. With the littlest safely shielded from accidents, the twins turn him into target practice in earnest. He chases Ishi around and around Saso's basket, roaring and stomping and throwing as many crabapples back at the three knights as he can.
Then Ishi hits on the idea of throwing mud, and Hiraeth is trying to catch her before she can splatter the clean laundry when he sees Link standing under the eave, watching. His face betrays no emotion whatsoever, but his arms are folded over his chest.
Hiraeth freezes, heart racing, cursing himself for not noticing sooner. How much has he seen? Heard? How can I explain the game without making it worse?
His sisters throw several more volleys before they realize his stillness isn't part of the game. Kyra sees Link first, dropping her remaining ammunition to run and embrace him. Myra follows shortly after - Ishi lifts up Saso's basket and declares herself the winner, for she has freed the Princess.
The twins argue this, completely oblivious to the consequence of their words. They insist they are the true champions, for it was their strength that defeated the Monstrous Beast so the Knight of Rorg could even reach the laundry-basket tower.
Link says nothing as the argument grows more heated.
"It was a bear," says Hiraeth in desperation. "The Questing Beast. In the story. Not a monster, a bear. Or maybe a boar. A real thing. Bears, boars. Dangerous to people - and sheep and - we were playing make-pretend, knights and bears. That's all. Just a game."
Link says nothing, and at last the twins realize something is wrong. Saso is confused by the silence and she starts crying for her hibi. Ishi tries to shush her.
"It's true baba," says Kyra. "Momma was tired and wanted to nap so were just playing an outside game."
"Sorry about the laundry baba," says Myra. "We were having fun and forgot."
"Go inside," says Link at last.
The twins hurry Ishi and Saso inside, but at least they look over their shoulder at him a few times as they obey. Hiraeth takes one step toward the house.
"Not you," says Link, unmoving, unmoved.
