"No, no, no," Martig said, wiping beads of sweat from his brow, "You need more upward movement. You're going to chop your own head off if the sword isn't high enough. Let me show you." His movements were smooth and harmonious, like the steps to a fine waltz, as he demonstrated again. He raised his sword above his head and brought it down with such force that the log they had been using as a target broke into two equal pieces. Link tried to repeat the maneuver, bringing his sword higher above his head. As he swung it down in an arc, he used too much force for his small arms to handle, causing him to lose grip on the sword. It flew out of his hands and became entangled in a mound of bushes a few yards ahead. Martig jumped out of the way with a loud exclamation.
"Well…I've never tried that move," he declared.
I'll never be as good as my dad at this rate.
Link sighed and sat on the ground. Martig gave his nephew a concerned look before joining him. They stared at the sky, the deep blue being replaced with gold, purples, and reds as the sun began to set over the tops of the trees, casting dark shadows across the ground.
"It took me months and a large amount of bandages before I could progress from a beginner to an amateur," stated Martig after a long moment of silence. Link placed his chin in his hands.
"I know…I just want to make my dad proud and so far I'm not doing a very good job."
"So, this is why you're so interested in taking lessons from me? You want to be as good as your father?" Link nodded.
"He never says it, but I know he wishes that I could live up to his accomplishments. I've tried, but I never seem to get any better!" He shouted, kicking a stone across the ground in anger.
"You have to understand that you can't be perfect at something the first time you try it," Martig said softly. "I'm sure you father is proud of you. What's not to be proud of? You have shown great progress since we first started lessons. You are much farther along then me when I was at this stage. Don't try to be something you can't without enough experience." Link was silent for a moment as he digested his uncle's words.
"What happened to my dad?"
"Are you referring to his accident?" Link nodded in response. Martig rubbed his temples as he remembered the events that led up to it. "I used to live in Hyrule eight years ago. Your father, Haywin, and I were in the Royal Army, highest class. I'm sure you heard about the incident at the New Year celebration as you were eavesdropping this afternoon," Link hid his face as it turned a deep scarlet. Martig continued, "Our class was ordered to rid the celebration of the intruders. We managed to capture all but two. You father and I were young and mindless so we thought we would be able to handle them on our own; we commanded the rest to return to the King with the prisoners. Haywin refused to let us go against this King's orders. He was always trying to protect us because he was younger and looked up to us. We ignored him as we always did and followed the escapees." Martig paused for a moment, contemplating what to say next. Link leaned forward, amazed to hear that his father and his uncle had been in the Royal Army. Why had they never told him? How could Haywin have been in the highest class? Judging from his looks now, Link didn't think that Haywin could even lift a sword, let alone use it to defend himself. Before he could continue his thoughts, Martig went on.
"We didn't know how long we had been following them or where we were. They had led us through numerous underground passageways infested with all kinds of foul smelling exotic plants. I didn't pay any attention to them but your father was absolutely fascinated…I didn't notice him stop, of the figure that was behind him. I continued down the dimly lit corridor and was able to capture one of them but he began to fight me in an attempt to escape again. Around his neck was a strange stone that glowed with a deep purple light. On impulse, I sliced the leather strand it hung on and it fell to the floor, shattering to thousands of minute pieces. Immediately, the man stopped and obeyed my commands to follow me. As we headed back down the passageway, I found your father slumped on the floor. His left arm was covered in the black vines of the plants. Haywin, who had ended up following us, was next to him. Haywin had tried to catch up with us before we had the chance to break any other orders. He refused to continue to let me pursue the other. I cut your father loose, helped him to his feet, and ordered the prisoner to lead us back, much to Haywin's delight."
"We arrived at the castle and found the other prisoners bound with thick rope and surrounded by numerous guards. Apparently, the guards had all done the same thing I did and had removed the stones from around their necks. I soon found out that these allowed the prisoners to disappear and reappear wherever they wished...how they came across them is still a secret that the Royals keep hidden. I handed our captive over to them and proceeded down a corridor that led to the healer, but the King arrived and stopped us. He lead us down another hall to a small room filled with shelf after shelf of jars full of unknown substances, but I was too afraid to ask what they were. The King removed the lid of one jar with especially hideous contents and spread it on your father's arm. Unfortunately, his arm never healed from the poison of that plant. The King was angry with us for going against his orders and for 'treating a fellow soldier in the same class without respect.' Your father apologized immediately, the King held him in such high esteem, but I never felt there was a reason to...Your father and I kept all but one from escaping."
"Then what happened?"
"You are a curious one, but I have already revealed too much to you. The King made us swear that we would never reveal what was said in that room under any circumstance, and I'm sure he meant even telling it to eight year-old boys." Martig said with a grin.
"But what about the murders? Do you think these two incidences are related? Why is Haywin so angry…"
"What happened that night is strictly Royal business. I wish I could answer your questions, because I know I could trust you, but I am bound by a promise to the King," he said, cutting Link off before he could finish his trail of questions. He looked up at the sky. "Now I think it is time that you go to bed." Link nodded sadly…there was so much more he wanted to know. He stood slowly, hoping his uncle would change his mind and tell him more, when Martig didn't, he went retrieve his sword from the bushes, which was a harder feat than he thought. Link began to walk towards the house and noticed that his uncle was not following him.
"Aren't you coming?" Martig shook his head.
"I love watching to moon rise. Good night, Link."
********
Link awoke suddenly as he heard voices coming from downstairs. It was still dark outside. He removed his blankets and shivered as the cold night air hit his skin. He walked noiselessly over to the window to check the position of the moon. It was about 1:00 in the morning. Yawning, he exited his room, tiptoeing to the top of the stairs so he could better hear the conversation.
"What did you tell him?" came an angry growl undoubtedly from Haywin.
"Only what happened to Arn. I told him nothing of what the King said to us in that room," Martig replied, his voice low.
"But you did tell him about the stones, didn't you!? That was supposed to remain private! This is Royal business!" Haywin replied.
"Quiet, Haywin! He said nothing about the real documents that were taken or the murders! Those are far more important matters!" Arn said, trying to calm down Haywin.
"I knew we could never trust this man!" Haywin snapped. "He couldn't be trusted from the start but no one ever listened to me!"
"If it wasn't for Martig, you'd be dead. Now hush before you wake up Midala or Link…"
"If Martig hadn't used me as play thing, I never would have been in trouble and he wouldn't have had to save me to save himself!" Haywin shouted. Link gasped.
Uncle Martig had almost gotten Haywin killed!?
"If you hadn't been poking your nose around in other people's business, nothing would have happened," Martig replied, his voice dripping with malice. The two men began shouting insults at each other before Arn managed to quiet them down.
"That's in the past! Forget about it!" Arn snapped, standing between them. "We have a meeting with the King tomorrow…we'll know more about these recent occurrences. Until then, I don't think we need to worry about what Link knows."
"But what if he tells the Princess or the other child, Aaron?" barked Haywin.
"I don't think we need to worry about it…Link knows when to keep a secret. Now, both of you, go back to sleep. You'll need it for the meeting tomorrow." Arn declared. Link saw him move towards the stairs. He got up quickly, sprinting silently back to his room. He jumped into bed and pulled the blankets over him just as his father walked in. Arn stared at his face as the moonlight cast it's pale light upon it.
"It is fate that you are to grow up in these difficult times, but I expect great things from you...you're different than the other children," he whispered. Arn bent over his son and kissed him on the forehead. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand resting on Link's shoulder, and stared out into the jet-black night.