Morning, April 18th, 611 GK, The War of Imprisonment, Day 641
Tent of the Lord-Marshal, Lake Hylia
"AKON!" bellowed the Marshal, "Fetch the nurses! NOW!" The guard quickly dashed away, calling back "Aye m'lord!" as he ran. Gagging from both the sight and smell, Alfon hurriedly pointed a finger at the steaming tub of water and commanded Link to get into it. The boy yelped as the hot water touched his damaged feet, but he still lowered himself in. The pain in his legs was severe, but over the rest of his body, the heat was remarkable – he had been cold for so long.
His master's heart was crushed with further grief, seeing how shriveled his squire's body had become and how his bones seemed to protrude out under his skin. "Just… rest, son." He stammered as the boy flinched and grimaced at the hot water. In minutes, two of the infirmary's nurses arrived, carrying leather satchels of medicine and bandages. "He has mire-rot on his feet." Alfon quickly reported and handed a small brush and washcloth to the boy. "Scrub yourself, all over - thoroughly!" he ordered. "Yes, my lord." The teen answered, but he struggled to keep himself steady in the slippery tub.
Even the nurses – who had seen all manner of illnesses and injuries in their time beside the lake – winced with disgust at the boy's state. "It's very advanced, my lord," one said, as she lifted a foot free from the water and examined it closely. Link continued to try and scrub at his own body, but his hands began to tremble and he found it harder and harder to move. Something about the warm water was causing what was left of his strength to fail and he was beginning to slip toward unconsciousness. As the nurses tugged at his feet, the boy sank below the waterline and began to choke and cough. Lord Alfon quickly pulled him back up and wrapped one arm around his chest – beneath his arms – to keep his head above water. "I-I-I'm… sorry… m-my…l-lord." He stuttered, confused and afraid. "Its ok son, I've got you." His master soothed. "I've got you."
As she was always able to somehow do, Telma learned that Link was inside of Alfon's tent and that the nurses had been called for. Rushing to the door of her tavern, she briefly stopped and called to Malon to come with her, and the two quickly made their way across the muddy town, toward the Marshal's tent. The girl hesitated, unsure if she were allowed to enter, but Telma threw the tent's flap aside and dashed inside. Her immediate scream and wails of grief startled her assistant and the girl desperately wondered what was happening.
Ignoring her lover's commands to leave, the beautiful matron threw herself down at Link's side and cradled his head against her chest. "OH, MY POOR LITTLE MAN!" she sobbed, kissing the top of his head, before wrinkling her nose and turning her face away. "Telma! You cannot be here now! GO!" Alfon shouted, before the nurse at Link's feet looked up and said, "My lord… this is very far gone… it may be necessary to take them." The color drained from his face and he turned a horrified expression to them. "Take them? You… you cannot mean…" he gasped, but her face remained grim. "If the infirmary were empty… maybe we could do something but this… this is severe and our supplies are very short."
"What is she saying?!" Telma asked, with her voice rising with panic. The lord looked down at his squire's face. The boy's eyes had rolled back and he was no longer able to hear them. "They… may have to take… his feet." He muttered quietly to her. Every part of her seemed to shake as her jaw clenched and her eyes streamed. "NO!" she hoarsely gasped, and tightened her grip on the boy's head. When Alfon moved to comfort her, she quickly snapped her head to the side and screamed, "MALON! GET MY BATH KIT! NOW!" The girl outside jumped and dashed away suddenly. "M-m-mal..onn." Link mumbled at the sound of her name.
The girl returned in a few moments, and called out "Permission to enter, my lord?" but Telma swiftly shrieked over him, "GET IN HERE!" and she ducked inside. "The black bottle! Quickly!" her mistress commanded, and Malon fumbled through the small bag before lifting a black-painted clay bottle and handing it to her. Clasping the cork stopper in her teeth, she warned Alfon, "Hold his other arm!" before pouring its contents into the water. "W-what is that?!" shouted the nurses, alarmed at what she was doing. "Cleansing oil, from several hylian herbs. Don't worry, I've used this before!" she rapidly answered, as she dropped the bottle onto the floor and wrapped Link's other arm around her waist – holding it with her right hand and cradling his head with her left.
At once, the bath began to hiss and roil – forming a heavy white foam at its surface. "Get ready." She groaned as they clamped down firmly upon the squire's arms. For a few seconds, he remained unconscious and the water simply bubbled and frothed around him, but with a sudden groan which rose into a piercing scream, the boy began to thrash and kick – desperate to escape the water.
He had been sinking into a very warm, comforting dream. The hot water was soothing and something warm and pleasant was pressed against the side of his face. But just as he was beginning to find peace, the dull ache in his feet suddenly flashed into a fiery burn, which rapidly spread up his legs and covered his entire body. Throwing his eyes open, the boy desperately tried to lift himself free from the agonizing bath, but found his arms pinned down at the edges of the tub and Telma's hand crushing his face into her chest. "GET OFF ME! GET OFF ME! IT BURNS!" he screamed, as the nurses quickly reached in and pinned his legs to the bottom of the tub.
The ordeal only lasted for a minute, perhaps less, but it felt like days for the poor boy. Eventually, the threatening hiss from the oils silenced and the water became calm. Every surface of Link's skin – below the neck – felt raw and burned. He was shivering severely now, not from cold, but from shock. "You're ok honey… you're ok now." Telma soothed, stroking his cheek and slowly releasing his arm. "Now… be brave for me." She finished as she slid her hand to his nose and pinched firmly. "Wha-" he tried to ask, but she forced his head under the water, throwing his arms into the tub, and vigorously scrubbed at his hair with her nails. A new surge of bubbles frothed violently around his head and face as the poor boy screamed in renewed pain, even under the water.
Afternoon, April 18th, 611 GK, The War of Imprisonment, Day 641
Tent of the Lord-Marshal, Lake Hylia
The puss, dried blood, and filth had vanished from Link's body. His skin was now pink and raw looking, but healthier than it had been an hour before. His feet were still badly swollen and cracked, but were clean and ready to be bandaged. After the four adults lifted him free from the bath (Malon quickly turned away), they dried and dressed him in undergarments, before laying him upon Alfon's bed and covering him with heavy blankets. He was unconscious again and only lightly breathing. Telma continued to lovingly cradle his head and pet his cheek as the nurses re-inspected his feet.
"There is still much damage, my lord. He will not be able to walk for several days." They reported, "But… the skin does seem to have been cleansed. After a little debriding, we should be able to wrap his feet and return him to duty within a week or two." At the word 'debriding', the boy's 'mother' flinched and whimpered at them, "Oh, please don't hurt him!" causing Alfon and the nurses gave her a disbelieving look. She blushed and looked back down at the poor boy's face. "I just… think he's been through too much already."
Malon, uncomfortable at how much of 'bare Link' she had seen and unsure of what to do, carefully reached down to gather up the boy's soiled clothes. "Wait!" cried the knight, "Don't touch those with your bare hands! Take that glove from my chest and see that they are burned. I will take his armor to the smith and get him fresh clothes from the quartermaster." The girl recoiled slightly at his warning, and retrieved the glove he had pointed out to her. "Yes, my lord." She answered, as she carefully held Link's soiled garments out at arm's length, and pinched her nose as she left.
For weeks, the boy lay inside the temple's infirmary – first to allow his ruined feet to heal, then to rehabilitate and regain his strength. When the surface of the lake clear again, the Hylians doggedly fished the waters for every morsel of food they could find. Foraging parties in the south had also come upon several large groves of berry bushes and fruit bearing spring trees. Just as they were approaching the edge of collapse, Alfon's plan of building an escape route to the south had paid off.
For the first few days, the boy would hungrily devour the food that was brought to him, but he quickly developed a powerful sense of shame for lying in bed, feasting, while his brothers were still suffering at the front line. The matron assured him, however, that Lord Alfon and the princess had recently toured the front and that all efforts were being made to ensure that the best food and hot water were being provided to his comrades.
Unknown to him, Zelda had actually come to visit him several times. Using her power, she disguised herself as another nurse on the matron's staff and took turns with the others changing his bandages or helping him to take a few painful steps around the temple. "This is so… PATHETIC." He growled at her once, frustrated at how weak his body had become and the fact that he had not yet returned to the front. "You must be patient with yourself sir!" she tried -with a disguised voice-, "You sustained these injuries because you were so devoted! You deserve a rest!" "I AM IN HERE BECAUSE I AM WEAK!" he barked back, and she did not argue with him any farther.
Once, while he slept, she had sat beside him and attempted to reach out to him. But the terror of their last encounter left her timid and she broke off the connection before it could truly form. Softly squeezing his hand instead, she whispered, "Stay strong Link! We need you." And then left him to rest.
By May he was able to leave the infirmary for "light duty" and as June neared, Lord Alfon assigned him to the guard detail overlooking the "logging camp" at the south end of Lake Hylia. The squire objected fiercely, even shouting once at his master – he felt ashamed to not be returned 'to the fight' – but the Marshal would not listen. "You've taken your turn at the front boy." He answered, shaking his head, "And we need you in the forest – you know it better than most. It's an important endeavor for the kingdom! You should feel honored to be trusted with its defense!" But in truth, the camp was where the old or the feeble soldiers were sent. It was believed that Ganon was unaware of their plans and few threats could navigate the forest so easily.
Returned now to his tent, the young soldier would rise every morning before dawn, don his gear, and trudge grimly across the muddy town to the bridge at the east end. In the distance, he could hear the shouts of moving formations of soldiers outside the Lake Road's gates. As he angrily stomped his way across the floating bridge, he would growl to himself, "I have got to find some way to get back into the war!"