Chapter 18
The tension was like a physical thing floating in the air. It was stirring deep within each one of them, a shiver of emotion that quivered in time to the beating of their hearts. Fran felt it more than the others. He crouched, letting the soft moonlight bathe him as he listened to the faint rustle of the overgrown grass. The cool air stroked the back of his neck, yet he felt far from refreshed. Mouth dry, he clutched his bow, the weapon feeling cold and heavy in his hands.
Fran glanced left. He could not see them, but knew they were there. Fanned out and hidden in the undergrowth were a group of Hylian soldiers, clad in dark tunics and armed with bows and short swords. Ahead of them stood a small wooden outpost, torchlight created shadows flickering against its walls. The hunter could make out the forms of a few Freelanders, standing tall and proud while they scanned the area.
They had landed on Freelander shores only a few days ago. News had reached them that the Allied attack on the Freelander port of Valiant had been victorious and the invasion army was now making its way slowly towards Narik's Rock. Fran privately wondered how successful the Allied army's path really was. As the King's party trekked across the land, they increasingly came across more and more stragglers from the troops. Bleeding, battered and broken, the soldiers looked like they had fought Ganon on the very edge of the Pit itself. That was nothing compared to the large number of Allied corpses left rotting in the burnt and looted villages they passed, silence and dust the only mourners.
It was clear that the Freelanders were fighting hard. It was also clear that they had not expected an attack of this scale. The Freelanders must have thought that the 'war' would go no further than a few skirmishes before being resolved diplomatically. Caught by surprise, they were doing exactly as the King had expected them to do - regrouping at the Rock.
And yet the King had not been happy. As the others had celebrated at the fall of the port, the King had been sullen and dour, his mood no doubt soured by the sight of so many fallen troops. It had been Link who had suggested an attack on all remaining Freelander Outposts that they came across in their path. The King had been gladdened at the plan.
Fran resisted the urge to shake his head. He felt sick. The hunter could not decide whether Link had truly joined with the King or if there was something more subtle going on. Leaving Chitz with Tessa as she slipped in with the maids and nurses joining the King's entourage, Fran had joined the assault party, his hunting skills waving away any questions anyone might have had about what he was doing on the ship in the first place. He had wanted to keep an eye on the Hero of Time.
A flicker of movement caught Fran's eye. A few metres ahead, a held up hand was barely perceptible above the swaying grass. It was Link. The Hero had chosen to lead this attack. Fran remembered the disappointment he felt as Link had cast his lazy gaze over him while inspecting the party. His friend had seemingly not recognised him at all. He had not had the chance to speak with the Hero and, indeed, was not sure what he would have said to him even if he had.
Fran fixed his gaze on Link's held up hand. The fingers jerked, once, twice in rapid fire as he beckoned the soldiers closer. Fran inched his way onwards, trying not to disturb the grass too much. His knees slid across the soil and his breath was shallow and ragged. So long as the Freelanders thought that the grass was moving because of the breeze they would be safe.
Finally, he caught a glimpse of the Hero of Time, his expression as dark as his clothes. Link held up a hand to halt him. On the far side, Fran could see the two other soldiers that made up the assault party. The sneers plastered on their faces and the way their muscles spasmed occasionally told Fran that they were anxious for some action. For some slaughter, more like. The hunter tightened his throat to keep the bile from rising.
"Left archer," Link said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Take out the Freelander on the upper left platform."
"Aye, sir," one of the soldiers nodded, moving into position and raising his bow.
"Middle archer, you're with me. Target: the duo on the lower floor."
"Be a pleasure, sir." The young man gave Link a look of such adoration that Fran felt even more nauseous. He'd seen it enough times in his life. Inexperienced and itching for battle, the soldiers needed someone to look up to, yet the Hero in his current persona was no role model. He felt a stab of sympathy for their foolish immaturity, yet he hoped they had the character to rely on themselves when they realised that Link was not as great as they thought. He wondered if they would have been equally as devoted if Link was his 'old self'. And if not, what kind of people did that make them? Soldiers were usually recruited from those families that could not find themselves an honest trade. He tried to ignore the prejudiced thoughts in his head, but could not resist. It was generally known that soldiers were usually good-for-nothings that cared only about satisfying their own needs. Especially their bloodlust.
"Right archer," Link turned his head to pin his gaze on Fran. A small gust of wind blew, mildly ruffling his hair. His usually blonde hair was now streaked with grease to keep it camouflaged. "There's an enemy on the upper right platform. Just out of sight, he's keeping watch towards the south. He's yours."
Fran merely nodded, lifting his bow as his heart trembled. He had known that there would be fighting, but concern for Link and made him push that worry to the back of his mind. Could he really kill another person in cold blood? A person who had done nothing to him and with whom he had no grievance?
"Attack positions," Link's voice floated over the breeze. Fran twirled an arrow in his hand, nervously. Pulling back the bowstring, he readied the wooden missile. The hunter lifted the bow and narrowed his eyes. There. The Freelander was just outside his field of vision, hidden behind one of the sharp corners of the outpost. As Link had said, he was watching the southern side, where a forest of tall, dark trees stood. The man's head and shoulder were visible though. An easy target for an archer as skilled as him.
Fran swallowed, trying to get some fluid into his mouth. He lined the sharp tip of the arrow along with the Freelander's head. Tiny flying insects buzzed around his face, making his eyelids twitch in annoyance. This was not like killing a boar. He felt his eyes sting as tears threatened to come. He tried to fight the thoughts that whispered in his head. Did this man have family? A wife? A daughter like Tessa? How could something as rich as a life itself be thrown away so senselessly? A single flying arrow cast by a stranger and the life was over. The hunter watched as the moon's dreamy light shimmered over the metal arrowhead, trying to keep his mind focused on something else.
"Shoot to wound." Link's voice pierced Fran's dread so abruptly that he thought he was hearing things. He dared to throw a glance over at the Hero. Link's face was still hard, and his gaze was still locked on his target, but he gave a small nod as he acknowledged Fran's unspoken question. Sweet relief flowed through him like a parched man in the desert drinking water. He felt hope too. Maybe there was still some of Link's old self buried in there?
"Loose."
The strings 'twanged' and the foursome jerked from the recoil as the arrows were set free. There was a gasp as the one of the Freelanders on the upper platform was struck in the arm. A Freelander on the lower floor turned his head sharply as an arrow narrowly missed his hand. Link and Fran missed, their arrows biting into the wooden building, the tails still humming and shimmering.
The response was immediate. Somewhere, someone was blowing a horn as the alarm rang out. Freelanders poured out of the small building, the weaponry on their armour springing out, a protective shell of silver spikes. Link stood, drawing his sword with a metallic slice. Fran and the others stood as well, their weapons ready.
They waited. There were a dozen Freelanders bounding towards them now. Had this been a regular fight Fran knew that their assault party would have lost. But that was not the plan.
As the Freelanders drew closer, a hail of arrows flew from the southern side of the outpost, splintering the building into pieces. The warriors turned, stunned as another three battalions of the Hylian army flowed from the forest on the far side. The Freelanders were caught in a crossfire.
"Shoot to wound!" Link's voice bellowed out over the noise of metal on metal and the rip of flying arrows. Fran aimed his shots carefully, making sure to graze the Freelanders' arms so that they would drop their weapons.
One of the soldiers gave Link a quizzical look. "We need prisoners," Link said as a reply. Satisfied with this, the soldier continued to attack.
The Freelanders fought back and soon their weapons were thick with blood. With a sense of unease, Fran noted how many of the Hylians were falling, their gurgling screams ringing in the air. Despite being outnumbered and outmanoeuvred, the Freelanders almost seemed like they were on the verge of a victorious comeback. Almost.
They started to drop, as well aimed arrows picked off their weapons from a safe distance. The Freelanders were bloodied now, but a quick scan told Fran that they had not suffered any serious wounds. The hunter silently marvelled at the respect that Link commanded. The soldiers had followed his orders to the letter.
There was one large ox of a Freelander, his body swollen and slow with cuts, standing his ground in the mud and blood wildly spinning his sword at anyone that would come near. The Hylians backed off tentatively as Link strode up to him, eyes alight with determination.
They stood for a moment regarding one another as the some of the soldiers paused to watch. With a grunt, the large Freelander swung at Link. Ducking, the Hero flipped his sword so it was hilt side up. Doubling the man over with a knee to the stomach, Link thrust the hilt upwards, smashing into the Freelander's jaw. His arms spinning to regain balance, the warrior fell slowly backwards like a newly cut tree. At the last instant, he flung his arms upwards and two small blades flew from wrist cavities. One blade missed the Hero entirely, and he jerked his head to try and deflect the second. Too late. It sliced his cheek and he snarled as the Freelander fell into unconsciousness.
Fran watched Link rub his cheek and surveyed the scene. The last Freelander had fallen. He resisted the urge to shake as head as he spotted the looks of awe on some of the younger soldiers.
"Bravo! Bravo!" Fran turned his head to the sound of clapping. Peeking out from behind one of the Hylian soldiers was Chalance Vance. The hunter caught Link quickly hide a look of distaste.
"The King will surely be pleased with this." He turned to regard Link with a cold smile. "You have done well, King's Slave." The sorcerer had made sure to raise his voice at the end to make sure all around could hear.
Fran watched as the Hero and the Advisor eyed one another in hushed silence. Again, the tenseness filled the air. Was it his imagination or was there something crackling in the atmosphere? Finally, Chalance Vance turned away; a satisfied expression fixed on is face.
Link's hand darted out, grabbing the man's robe. Vance turned back, a hint of a snarl on his lips. Some of the soldiers looked at them curiously, confused at what was going on.
"Chalance Vance," Link said. "I would like a word with you."
*
It was beautiful. Almost lazily beautiful, Zelda thought. As if such could be said of the sight before her. She guessed she meant that it was a vision she would like to see last upon sleeping and first upon waking.
Carved on the ground between two hills was a shiny marble path, cool to touch despite the noonday heat beating down. Intricately engraved upon the path were glistening silver patterns that curled and entwined with one another, reflecting the sun's light with dazzling splendour. The patterns took many forms; here, a dragon with a long, pointed tail, and there, a girl, smiling, pretty.
The hills either side of her were a work of art too. Spiral patterns of pink and yellow flowers curled towards a glittering purple jewel embedded in the centre. They trotted along the marble path which led to an elaborately constructed palace that had taken her breath away when she first set eyes on it.
The path ended in a mountain, and the Freelanders had ploughed into one if its sides to create a rock pedestal on which to build their palace on. Minarets and towers sat upon a building whose texture seemed to change from sapphire to sparkling emerald second by second.
Then there was the scent. It hung in the air, not powerful and not too faint. Lemony and sweet, just the very act of breathing made her spirits rise. Tears came to Zelda's eyes. Again, she remembered the many summers she had hidden herself away from the world, dark and depressed. Why hadn't anyone told her that the rest of the world held such beauty?
They had come here as prisoners of a sort. The Freelander warship that had intercepted the Fountain's Wings had been captained by a nobleman named Ren, apparently a relative of Prince Chizan's. While the Freelanders had taken the other passengers prisoner, Chizan had privately spoken to Ren and had been allowed to take Zelda, Zayna and Tyron into his custody. The Prince had come out of the meeting flustered and looking troubled, and Zelda worried about what was going to happen as they were taken to this supposedly 'hidden' palace. Chizan had tried to reassure her, but she had not been convinced. When she asked him whether she and her friends could walk free, he had become tight-lipped.
There was something else about Chizan too. Mixed in with his discomfort, she sometimes caught him looking at her with a boyish expression on his face and a hint of longing in his eyes that made her feel .. unsettled. Once, during the trip they had found themselves alone together and the Prince had been surprisingly open, talking about his childhood and smiling at her. The memories were pleasant and she had warmed towards him, yet the intensity of his gaze had made her shrink somewhat. Once, he had reached for her hand .. out of friendship or something more, she could not tell. She had withdrawn, confused. Had she offended him by rejecting what was nothing more than a friendly gesture?
Still, the foreboding she felt melted in the face of the pleasant surroundings. She did not know much about where they were headed, except that it was considered a sacred sanctuary to the Freelanders. Chizan had told her in a hushed voice that some distance on the other side of the mountain stood a place called Narik's Rock. Proudly, he predicted that it was there that the war would end.
Still marvelling at the scene, it pained her to realise how little she knew about the Freelanders or indeed, the rest of her world. She had underestimated them, had not thought them capable of creating such wonders, assuming they were nothing more than a noble, warrior race. It hurt that such a place and people would soon be plunged into battle.
Zelda suddenly felt very small and alone. Tyron and Zayna were riding beside her, engrossed in a quiet conversation. Yet, she still did not feel at ease. She longed for the comfort of something familiar. Or someone. Her heart tugged as Link's name came to her. She bitterly wished that he was here, sharing this view with her.
He'd always teased her for being so caught up in her position that she had never left enough time for herself. Ironic, really, that he had also gone down the path of solitude eventually. She remembered how he had collapsed into her arms after the death of Malon, weeping as she tried to shush him. Cyle asked for her company every evening and Link had looked stricken every time she left him. 'Don't you know how wrong it is?' he would whisper, his eyes imploring. She had thought it was the grief speaking.
Time passed and they would enjoy quiet evenings together, riding on horseback, just talking and laughing. Or sometimes just not saying anything at all, letting the dying rays of the setting sun warm their faces and content in each other's presence. Though they had to be discreetly chaperoned as Hylian custom dictated, it did feel as though they were the only ones in the world sharing those moments. She'd never told him how much she enjoyed that time, the freedom she felt with him, removed from the pressures of royalty and Cyle's sometimes aggressive affection. Her heart had been torn. The fondness between them had always been there, though she had kept it in check. But it had filled her with guilt that it had taken the death of a friend to bring it simmering to the surface. And Cyle's more flamboyant courting had both confused and flattered her, especially with so many well wishers whispering her ear about how he was such a 'good catch'. Mina had chided her. 'How could the Princess be so astute in diplomatic matters but so naive in the ways of the heart?' she had said with a playful taunt.
Link wasn't much better. On one rare occasion they had the chance to visit far off town, famed for its exotic clothes. Heavily disguised and soaked with rain, she had dragged a seemingly reluctant Link from store to store whilst she grinned happily at the stunning fabrics on sale. One green-feathered dress had caught her eye and it had almost broken her heart as Link had to pull her away from the display, mildly teasing her. Imagine her surprise then, when she came home that night and found the dress laying on her bed wrapped in a patterened ribbon that someone had obviously gone to a great effort to tie. He had avoided her for the next few weeks, blushing whenever they locked gazes, as if he himself had been astounded by what he'd done.
Another time, a spring festival was being held at the castle where maidens would come to be fawned over by mothers looking for prospective wives for their sons. She had been jittery that day as Cyle's parents would be attending. Rushing around panicked, she had passed Link in a busy corridor. Shyly, he had fumbled a rose into her hand before making a quick exit. She had giggled at his awkwardness. A lion in battle he may be, but when facing his feelings he was easily cowed.
Strange then, that he was now so relaxed with the farmgirl Tessa. Zelda guessed that his time away had obviously changed him. That and the fact that neither of them were no longer young and foolish anymore. Link's exile had been the only sour aspect of her early married life. She had felt that she had lost a limb or that a wall had been built in her heart cutting off her memories of her old friend. The happiness during the early days of her marriage had helped to temper those emotions, though she did think of him from time to time. It made her feel ill wondering how he was. The solitude must have been cold despite the heat of the desert climate. She regularly sent out messengers to check on him, eagerly awaiting a reply she knew probably would not come.
Cyle used to regard Link with some distaste, wondering why she spent so much time with the 'commoner'. Link was still considered that by the Hylian upper classes, despite his general status as the 'Hero of Time'. They would avoid one another, Link and Cyle. Privately, the Hero would start rambling to her about how Cyle had really murdered Malon. This, despite Talon's eyewitness. She had thought he may have been losing his mind, his heart and core unhinged by the death of their friend. Cyle would ignore the accusations, using them as another reason to look down on Link with contempt.'He is not worthy of you', Cyle would say. She tasted the bittersweet melancholy in her soul.
The feeling turned to anger. She wished she wasn't the Queen. She wished he wasn't the Hero of Time. Zelda wanted to give up everything just to be .. normal. Just to live like normal people. Her and Link, enjoying each other's company, quietly living out their days cocooned in love. Husband and wife. Her cheeks flushed at the very thought. It felt strange to consider him so, and yet it felt right. Like something that should have been. Did he still think the same of her? It was, she mused, so hard to guess at what someone was thinking and feeling, especially if her own emotions were clouding her judgement.
She knew it was selfish and childish, and she tried to shake the feelings off, but still the tears came. She sniffed, trying to blink them away.
"Your highness?" Zelda turned to see Tyron regarding her with a compassionate look. Then again, she thought with a wry smile, there are some people who were skilled at reading people's inner states. And they did it, not by magic, but by the weight of experience and by possessing a sharp insight. Maybe Tyron should have the Triforce of Wisdom and not her.
"Yes?"
"We've arrived." He smiled.
Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't realised that they had ridden up to the gate. Chizan and Ren waited there and the Prince held out his hand to help her off of her horse. Again she hesitated, feeling awkward, before chastising herself for all her silly thoughts and accepting his assistance.
He gave her a wide grin and she found it hard to resist responding in kind. Gazing at his beaming face, she felt a little less forlorn. She glanced over at Ren. He looked grim, his mouth set in a thin line. She didn't think he liked her at all.
"Uncle would like to see them," Ren said simply, before spinning on his heel and walking away.
"Uncle?" Zelda asked, looking up at Chizan.
"My father," the Prince answered, his expression still troubled. "The King of the Freelander Emirate."
*
"And so, we have decided to regroup at Narik's Rock. All non-combatants have been sent north, to hide in the mountains if neccesary. The Rock is where our forefathers made their last stand against the primeval invaders of long ago. It is there that they fought off those who would attempt to enslave us. It is there that the Freelander Emirate was born. Their blood is soaked into the Rock itself. We can still taste the power of it there. It is only fitting that it is there that we shall defeat your husband."
Zelda swallowed, feeling uneasy as the King finished his speech. His gaze lay on her, calm and ancient. His silver hair flowed to his shoulders and the lines engraved in his face did little to detract from its regality. He clutched a staff in one hand, idly letting it scratch on the floor below. She had not realised how badly the war had gone for them, how they had been surprised and outnumbered so easily. She guessed that they were deeply embarrassed at the war's progress and were hiding it within. Understandable, considering that they had not to take part in any active battles for many summers while Cyle had clearly been secretly preparing and recruiting his troops for quite some time now.
Still. She knew otherworldly forces worked upon the world, but she felt a little uncomfortable that they were so easily willing to rest their hopes on the blood of martyrs soaked into a prehistoric rock.
"I can do nothing but apologise, Your Majesty," she said. Her voice sounded small in the large room where they sat. Patterned windows broke the sun's beams and split them into different colours.
The Freelander King did not reply. Instead, he shifted his gaze to Prince Chizan, who was uncharacteristically fidgeting in a chair beside her.
"Why have you brought her here?" The King asked. She was alone, but for the King, the Prince and Viceroy Ren. Zayna and Tyron had been taken to private quarters.
Chizan looked perturbed, his mouth chewing as he struggled to find the words.
"Yes, cousin, " Ren said, trying to keep the spectre of a challenge out of his tone. "Tell us why you have brought the enemy's Queen into our lands."
Zelda felt cold lead in her throat at the words.
"Do you not know who she is?" Chizan spat. "She is one of many Heroic Deeds. She helped overthrow the Dark Lord himself."
"That was in the past," Ren answered. There was a hint of anger in his voice. "This is now. She is our enemy and a liability."
Zelda felt angry too. How dare they speak of her as if she were not even there?
"You enemy and my enemy is one," she said, fixing Ren with a glare. "The King of Hyrule has cast me out. He is no ally of mine."
Ren moved to speak, his features starting to scowl, but the Freelander King cut him off with a soft voice. "Would you fight against your own people then? Spill their blood?"
"She wishes to take back what is rightfully hers." It was Chizan who had answered. "She requests our help for this."
The Freelander King and the Viceroy turned their gazes to her, waiting for her to speak.
Gathering her thoughts, Zelda swallowed. "I am not here to make some sort of humble entreaty," she said, her eyes flicking from one person to the other. "The facts are clear. Cyle has taken my throne. I want it back. I need help." She stopped there. She did not want to beg.
"I do not see why we should assist," Ren said bluntly. "Once the invaders have been removed from our lands, we should wash our hands of Hyrule once and for all."
"I understand your predicament," Zelda said, turning to face him. "I do not wish to force you into anything, nor do I wish you to commit the blood of your children in my personal battle." She paused. "But understand this. Cyle will not stop at this. Even if you do drive him back - and I am sure you have the skill to do so - he will keep attacking and attacking until he gets what he wants."
"Which is?" asked Chizan's father.
Zelda looked him straight in the eye. "The total subjugation of the Freelander Emirate." The room was hushed as they waited for her to continue. "The only way peace will be restored is by me reclaiming my throne. For the sake of the whole world, this is the only path."
The Freelander King shifted in his seat. "Why does he seek this?"
"The Legend of Voraskar," Chizan answered. Zelda turned to him, surprised.
The King raised an eyebrow. "The Gate. The Key."
Chizan nodded.
"He possesses the Key?" the King asked.
"The Key is in this very building. It is the girl that accompanied Her Highness here."
Now it was their turn to look surprised. She heard Ren gasp beside her. The King's back stiffened, an unreadable look on his face. Zelda thought it might even be fear.
"Are you certain of this?" Ren asked, his eyes narrowed in a suspicious look.
"As certain as we can be," Zelda answered. She tried to smile to soften the revelation. Ren looked at her for a moment, but gave just a small nod before looking away.
"This is .. a difficult situation," the King said sadly.
"And an untimely one," Ren added. "We have a lot to concern ourselves with. The battle at Narik's Rock is where Heroic Deeds were born. This is enough for us."
A thought occurred to Zelda. She stood, and all eyes turned to her. Chizan looked confusedly at her.
"I cannot claim to know too much about your people, Your Majesty," she said. "But I have learnt a lot from your son here. I have to depend on his stability and his nobility. Your people are no cowards." She paused to let the words sink in. "And your people have a wonderful tradition. You stand here this day on a knife-edge between greatness and destruction. You wish to defend your people and this is understandable. But think of this. Protect the Key, end the Hylian invasion and restore justice in Hyrule." She stopped again, letting her gaze sweep around and linger on all three of them. "Three Heroic Deeds for the price of one. Three of the greatest that will be spoken of and sung about for eons to come."
The King chuckled as his expression softened. "You speak well, Your Highness."
Zelda smiled as she sat down. Perhaps this day would not end in failure.
"What of my people?" she asked. "The ones you caught on the Fountain's Wings."
"They will be let go," the Freelander King answered. "But only as a favour to you. Any others we find are captives of war."
She nodded, satisfied. She heard the exasperated snort from beside her and knew trouble was coming.
Ren held up a hand. "I do not wish to disrespect you," he said. "And forgive me for the harshness of my words earlier. I have seen far too much bloodshed over these past few days."
"There is nothing to apologise for, I assure you," she answered. There was something in his face that told her that there was a catch coming. She braced herself. There was little point in trying to change his opinion of her.
He smiled. "Yet. If your companion is who you claim she is, we would require her to have a Heroic Deed of her own before we gave her aid."
"Stop being foolish, cousin," Chizan said.
Ren fixed him with a cold stare. "Far from it. I only wish to be sure that she is worth the effort." He paused. "And she is who you say she is."
Zelda was confused, but waited for him to continue. It wearied her that he remained so unconvinced.
"I say she - and the Queen here - take the Test in the Labyrinth."
The Prince shook his head, looking exasperated. "We have no time for this. Why should the Queen even have to take part?"
Zelda did not understand what was going on and looked over at the Prince for answers. He looked back, his expression filled with concern and apprehension. His eyes flicked over her and again, there was something in them that she could not quite place. She turned away before the smile she knew was coming could settle on his face.
"You were not there at Valiant port, Chizan," Ren continued. "While you were enjoying yourself in Hyrule, I watched as the Hylians butchered Freelander women and children." He looked at Zelda, and his next words made her grimace. "Some of the soldiers looked like they were enjoying themselves. Despite her Deeds of the past, she is from the same people as these murderers. My heart needs to be stilled from its anxiety by the knowledge that she is worthy. What is one more Heroic Deed for one such as her? She asks us for three, I only ask for but one."
Chizan and Ren locked gazes, but stayed silent. Zelda felt the creeping discomfort in her heart. She could understand Ren's pain, but surely they must realise that just because she belonged to the same race as the soldiers that did not mean she was like them. Desperately, she looked to the Freelander King for support. The hard look on his face dismayed her.
"It would only be proper," the King mumbled.
Chizan sighed and shook his head. "Then let me join them. The three of us in the Labyrinth. But I still say that there is no time for this as war rages."
The King looked at them, his eyes milky. "So be it," he said with a nod. "Chizan, the Queen and the Key shall take the Test this very evening."
*
Chalance Vance sat in his makeshift tent, carefully eyeing the Hero of Time. He had delayed their meeting until the afternoon, not wanting to appear too capitulating in front of the troops. The edges of the tent flapped in the breeze and the sizzle of cooked meat wafted in over the air.
"What is it you want?" he asked. Link looked at him, his gaze level and cool. Something danced in the man's blue eyes that Vance could not quite recognise. Deception? Impossible. He himself had broken the Hero, he thought to himself with a surge of pride. The plan had been foolproof.
"You're a busy man," Link answered. "So I won't mince words. At least, not too much." He gave a humourless smile.
"Please continue," Vance mumbled in response. The entrance flap to the tent opened and a flustered soldier stumbled in. Recognising the two occupants, the soldier's eyes went wide. Link stared at him disinterestedly, but Vance bared his teeth in a snarl.
"I specifically asked for no disturbances!" Vance roared. How much longer did he have to put up with these simpletons? From lowly maids to the King himself, he was sick with the lot of them.
"S-sorry," the soldier mumbled, before tripping on his way out.
Link snorted then turned his attention back to Vance. Again, he caught something in the Hero's eyes that he could not place. Whatever it was he did not like it. Link leaned forward, knitting his fingers. He sorceror noticed that the scar on his forehead was starting to fade and was in sharp contrast to the freshly pink one on his cheek.
"Some time ago, I was in the Melody Forest," he said. "You may have heard of it. Nice place for hunting boar." Link looked like he would wink, but he kept his face calm. "There's a village there. You know, the usual. Traders, farmers." He paused to look directly at Vance. "Families."
"Go on," the sorcerer said.
"Well, there's the catch," the Hero continued. "I was there with a friend, looking for a place to rest. I was looking forward to mixing with the people. Catch up on the gossip, play with the children." Vance stopped himself from raising an eyebrow. The Hero was famed for being less than social these past few summers. "That sort of thing. But guess what I found instead?"
Vance knew what he was hinting at, but stayed silent.
"No?" the Hero asked with a slight tone of mockery. "Can't tell?"
"Get to your point, King's Slave."
Link cocked his head and his mouth curled in a smile at the sound of the 'title'. Pursing his lips, he did not respond to the insult.
"What I found was a burnt out husk of a town. Corpses everywhere." Instantly, the smile disappeared. Link's voice turned harsh and his gaze grew hard. "Men. Women. Children. Slaughtered like Cuccos on a feast day."
Vance straightened his robe and sniffed. "Why tell me this?"
Again, the easy smile returned. Link leaned back. "I want to know why."
Chalance Vance held his laugh inside. Was he a fool? Did the Hero expect him to spill out all his plans now just because they were on the same side?
"Were you looking for the Key?" The sorcerer's mouth turned dry at Link's words, but he kept his blank expression in place. It took quite the effort. He wasn't so much bothered about the implicit accusation that he was responsible for the massacre as he was about Link's knowledge of things he had thought were secret. Nevertheless, whatever the Hero thought he knew about the Key, he was totally on the wrong track here.
"No, actually," Vance said, keeping his voice neutral so as not to give away how unsettled he had been. He looked up. There. A twitch under the Hero's left eye. This time it was Link who had been caught off guard and the victory warmed Vance's usually acidic heart.
"Then ..?"
"What is it to you, King's Slave? It is a private matter. I search for something personal and precious." Something that would turn this entire affair to his advantage. But no one but Vance knew of that, of course. With the Demon Riders busy with the Key, he had sent out many parties of spellbound troops around the world to further his search. Soon. Soon he would be back where he belonged and everyone - the King included - would be under his heel.
Link mulled on this a moment, his face solemn. "So you admit it was you?"
"I was not there physically," Vance said with a smile. He held up his hands as if in surrender. "But then there are advantages of being a magic user."
"Magic." The Hero said the word with some distaste.
"You disapprove?" The sorcerer was genuinely curious. "I thought you were an avid magic user in the past."
"I grew wiser," Link answered. "I know where it comes from now."
Interesting. Had he been studying history during his time away? Or had he simply been taken with the superstitious ramblings of idiots who envied the power of magic but could not even hope to wield it. He almost spat in disgust at the thought.
"Do you now?" Vance asked carefully. "And what of the Queen? She uses it from time to time does she not?"
Link was silent for a moment. "What do I care what she does?" he said finally.
Vance gave a small nod. "Indeed," he said. Something came to his mind as he pondered over the conversation. "Do you know where the Key is?"
"I have no idea."
Vance narrowed an eye. The Hero had answered far too quickly. "Do not toy with me, King's Slave."
Link stayed silent, holding his gaze. One finger tapped on the hilt of his sword and the hollow metallic ringing both annoyed and strangely unnerved Vance.
"Anyway," the Advisor said, trying to change both the subject and his train of thought. "What are you so concerned about the death of a few pathetic commoners? Worthless people like that are beneath you, King's Slave."
Link barked a short, small laugh. He stood to his full height, and Vance had to shrink back. He cursed himself for being so cowardly, but could not help watch the Hero's hands carefully. If the man reached for his sword...
"King's Slave, is it?" Link asked. "Amusing. Shouldn't that title belong to you?"
He made a sudden move and Vance flinched. The sorcerer caught the ghost of amusement flicker on the man's features and he seethed inside. Vance scowled inwardly. These insects had no idea who he truly was. It ached that he had to be so patient waiting for the time when he would be restored to his former glory. Then, they would all see who would cower.
Link headed towards the exit. Pulling the flap back to let the orange glow of the afternoon sun ooze in, the Hero turned his head back for one last time.
"You should be a little more careful," Link said. Vance swallowed, trying to regain his posture. "There may come the day when I am considered far more useful to you." Link's voice dropped to a whisper. "And when that day comes, I will look forward to grinding you into dust, bone by bone."
He left with a sharp laugh, leaving Chalance Vance to let out the breath that he had held painfully in.