Chapter III- Where Loyalties Lie
Nabooru sat in her chambers. Tomorrow, the Great Journey began again. She was afraid as she looked into the flickering fire. She watched its slow dance, its mesmerizing movements, and thought. She had made the journey before, so surely she could do it again, couldn't she? But still, she was afraid. Mother said everything was all right, so it would be. But something else was troubling her: the training.
It wasn't easy, the training. It was very, very hard. Her masters said she was good, very good, but that was why it was hard. They kept pushing her, harder each new day, testing her, trying to find her limits. But she could not give up. She would never admit defeat. She would sooner die than that. They would not break her. She would break them.
That night, Ganondorf sat in his room. His mother was telling him of the things that would happen during the Great Journey, and D'kumran. It all seemed very complicated. There were so many rituals, so many things that must be done exactly perfect to be accepted. And then, even if he did, he was not so sure that they would accept him. He was a boy, after all.
"And on the second night, the Procession of Garda begins."
"Is that when the people with funny masks come?" Ganondorf asked, curiosity on his face. Nataru smiled.
"Yes child, that is when they come."
He was learning quickly. He seemed worried about doing well, but it was unnecessary. Ganondorf was a special child. He would go far in this society. The women shunned him now, but she was confident in his strength. He would show them one day. He would not let the others break him. He was too proud for that. He would surpass his instructors in time, and then he would be the teacher. The leader. He would lead this clan in time. But now he was a boy. He needed his rest.
"That's enough for now, Ganondorf. You may sleep." The child rushed for his room, ready to sleep till morning.
Nataru looked at toward the fireplace, where Samoora stood. She had been unusually quiet tonight. Samoora was usually quiet, but more than ever tonight.
"Is something wrong, Samoora?" She turned, and Nataru knew that there was. Sadness was etched all over her face, despite Samoora's poor attempts to conceal it.
"You look troubled."
"It's nothing, highness. I'm… I'm fine." Nataru could see the emotions on her face. It seemed as though she were fighting a battle inside her head. Or perhaps her heart.
Samoora looked to the window. Nataru looked too, seeing a lantern's flicker in the night sky.
"Samoora, what is that?" The High Warrior watched as her conflicting sides fought, one finally giving in to the other. Samoora suddenly burst out.
"Highness, you must leave now. And take Ganondorf. It may already be too late."
"Samoora, what do you -" She was cut off by the warrior.
"The Vipers will strike tonight." Nataru stood silent for a few moments, taken aback.
"The Vipers? How do you know this, Samoora?"
Slowly Samoora turned around. She pulled down the collar of her shirt, revealing the tattoo beneath. Samoora turned back around. She saw Nataru's surprise, and expected it to turn to anger. Instead, she saw a look of deep hurt and anguish, which was worse than any anger. Anger she could deal with. She had been betrayed by one of her most trusted servants.
"I'm sorry, Samoora. I will go now. I thank you for the warning. I relieve you of your duties forever. You may do what you wish."
Nataru turned and left without another word. Samoora began to sob.
Nataru took Ganondorf from his bed, and led the half-asleep child down the twisting corridors. She was rounding the last corner when a figure appeared in front of her. The figure was hooded, and was holding a crossbow. The arrow had a glistening point on its end, and did not look inviting.
"Kindly step out of the way, Highness," the figure said, face hidden by the hood.
"No," she said, shielding Ganondorf with her body. "I won't let you hurt him."
"A shame, indeed." The crossbow twanged, and the arrow imbedded itself deep in the High Warrior. She fell to the ground, moaning.
"Arrgh! Curse this aim!" It was supposed to be a clean kill. She began to readjust the bow. The child was going nowhere.
Samoora came running down the hall, and stopped with a start when she saw Nataru lying on the ground.
"No! No… this wasn't supposes to happen…" her face was a mask of horror.
Nataru's eyes slowly flickered open.
"Samoora," she said in a barely audible voice. "Come here, Samoora." The young warrior kneeled down where Nataru lay.
"Samoora, you made a promise to me. Do you remember it?" Samoora could here the High Warrior's voice becoming fainter. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Yes, Highness."
"I care not what you have done, Samoora. Just please say you will keep that promise."
"I will, Highness. Nataru."
"Thank you, Samoora. Thank you."
Samoora felt the High Warrior's neck, searching for a pulse. She jumped back, horror and surprise and sadness all etched across her face.
High Warrior Nataru of the Gerudos was dead.
Nabooru sat in her chambers. Tomorrow, the Great Journey began again. She was afraid as she looked into the flickering fire. She watched its slow dance, its mesmerizing movements, and thought. She had made the journey before, so surely she could do it again, couldn't she? But still, she was afraid. Mother said everything was all right, so it would be. But something else was troubling her: the training.
It wasn't easy, the training. It was very, very hard. Her masters said she was good, very good, but that was why it was hard. They kept pushing her, harder each new day, testing her, trying to find her limits. But she could not give up. She would never admit defeat. She would sooner die than that. They would not break her. She would break them.
That night, Ganondorf sat in his room. His mother was telling him of the things that would happen during the Great Journey, and D'kumran. It all seemed very complicated. There were so many rituals, so many things that must be done exactly perfect to be accepted. And then, even if he did, he was not so sure that they would accept him. He was a boy, after all.
"And on the second night, the Procession of Garda begins."
"Is that when the people with funny masks come?" Ganondorf asked, curiosity on his face. Nataru smiled.
"Yes child, that is when they come."
He was learning quickly. He seemed worried about doing well, but it was unnecessary. Ganondorf was a special child. He would go far in this society. The women shunned him now, but she was confident in his strength. He would show them one day. He would not let the others break him. He was too proud for that. He would surpass his instructors in time, and then he would be the teacher. The leader. He would lead this clan in time. But now he was a boy. He needed his rest.
"That's enough for now, Ganondorf. You may sleep." The child rushed for his room, ready to sleep till morning.
Nataru looked at toward the fireplace, where Samoora stood. She had been unusually quiet tonight. Samoora was usually quiet, but more than ever tonight.
"Is something wrong, Samoora?" She turned, and Nataru knew that there was. Sadness was etched all over her face, despite Samoora's poor attempts to conceal it.
"You look troubled."
"It's nothing, highness. I'm… I'm fine." Nataru could see the emotions on her face. It seemed as though she were fighting a battle inside her head. Or perhaps her heart.
Samoora looked to the window. Nataru looked too, seeing a lantern's flicker in the night sky.
"Samoora, what is that?" The High Warrior watched as her conflicting sides fought, one finally giving in to the other. Samoora suddenly burst out.
"Highness, you must leave now. And take Ganondorf. It may already be too late."
"Samoora, what do you -" She was cut off by the warrior.
"The Vipers will strike tonight." Nataru stood silent for a few moments, taken aback.
"The Vipers? How do you know this, Samoora?"
Slowly Samoora turned around. She pulled down the collar of her shirt, revealing the tattoo beneath. Samoora turned back around. She saw Nataru's surprise, and expected it to turn to anger. Instead, she saw a look of deep hurt and anguish, which was worse than any anger. Anger she could deal with. She had been betrayed by one of her most trusted servants.
"I'm sorry, Samoora. I will go now. I thank you for the warning. I relieve you of your duties forever. You may do what you wish."
Nataru turned and left without another word. Samoora began to sob.
Nataru took Ganondorf from his bed, and led the half-asleep child down the twisting corridors. She was rounding the last corner when a figure appeared in front of her. The figure was hooded, and was holding a crossbow. The arrow had a glistening point on its end, and did not look inviting.
"Kindly step out of the way, Highness," the figure said, face hidden by the hood.
"No," she said, shielding Ganondorf with her body. "I won't let you hurt him."
"A shame, indeed." The crossbow twanged, and the arrow imbedded itself deep in the High Warrior. She fell to the ground, moaning.
"Arrgh! Curse this aim!" It was supposed to be a clean kill. She began to readjust the bow. The child was going nowhere.
Samoora came running down the hall, and stopped with a start when she saw Nataru lying on the ground.
"No! No… this wasn't supposes to happen…" her face was a mask of horror.
Nataru's eyes slowly flickered open.
"Samoora," she said in a barely audible voice. "Come here, Samoora." The young warrior kneeled down where Nataru lay.
"Samoora, you made a promise to me. Do you remember it?" Samoora could here the High Warrior's voice becoming fainter. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Yes, Highness."
"I care not what you have done, Samoora. Just please say you will keep that promise."
"I will, Highness. Nataru."
"Thank you, Samoora. Thank you."
Samoora felt the High Warrior's neck, searching for a pulse. She jumped back, horror and surprise and sadness all etched across her face.
High Warrior Nataru of the Gerudos was dead.