As always, the first step away from home was the most difficult to take for
him. As a child it meant nothing save that he would be sure to return in
time for supper, but now each time he left it could mean he would never
return. A silent nod to the gate watchman on duty and the young form
slipped into the shadows.
Travel to the Great City was predictable. None were to be seen on the dirt roads, deserted for the present until morning. The great orb of the moon hung silently in the heavens above, accompanied by the pinpricks of stars, her ladies in waiting. She illuminated the pitch of darkness almost as if a beacon solemnly lit specifically for his travels on this lonely night. The silence was almost ominous. Not a blade of grass stirred, not a cricket's soft chirp to be heard.
The massive south gate was open, illuminated by bright torches in the sconces to either side. Mavrik's boots seemed to make a great hollow boom with every step, and he could almost hear an angry citizen calling after him.
"Ho there, lad!" someone shouted from the walls above, and Mavrik jumped at the sound. "What business does a traveler such as yourself have here at this time of night?"
Looking up he found a nameless soldier in full arms. "I received a summons," came the reply.
"Eh?" said the man rubbing his mustache, a look of consternation coming over his fat face. "Oh! Now I remember! You're that missing lad we've been expecting, aren'tcha, Mavrik Boh?" and his eyes gleamed as he said it.
"Yes, sir."
"Well come on up then and join the party!"
Mavrik nodded, mumbling his thanks, and went towards the soldier opening the door in the passage to his right. The soldier nodded his recognition and called up, "Yep, it's him alright, Garon."
Stepping inside the narrow, dimly lit passage Mavrik could see his fellows already formed up against one wall. They looked just as weary as he felt, albeit they had had more time to make themselves presentable. The commander stopped his inspection and came over to him.
"Well then, Mr. Boh. You're late. Not a good sign from a soldier. I hope this, or anything like it, will not happen again," he said purposefully.
"Yes, sir," he replied and took the last place next to a sturdy looking man in his early thirties.
"Not good enough to be a soldier, eh?" the taller man whispered. "Well, I bet you know a few places where he could shove those words."
Mavrik chuckled low in his throat. "You bet. He's right, though." "Yeah, that's what makes it worse." He looked over at him. "I'm Rone Walker." Mavrik took the invitation, "Mavrik Boh."
"Gentlemen?" the commander called from further down the lines. Both men immediately turned to stone.
Mavrik sized the other man over from the corner of his eye. There was something compelling about him, there was a mischievous fire in his intense gray eyes shaded by raven hair that suddenly made him want to fight alongside this man, fight for him as comrades.
As it turned, Rone was the son of Rosseyn Walker, one of the greatest military minds of the age. It seemed appropriate that his son should tread his path. Everyone had heard of him. He had co-written and revised the treaty of Lei. His son, by contrast, hated war yet was a better archer than he was a diplomat.
"Gentlemen," the commander began, interrupting Mavrik's thoughts. "I am sure that you all have conceived of the notion at one point or another within your young lives that our great kingdom of Hyrule, with its unifying treaties, impressive walls of protective stone, and its exemplary soldiers, that we are impenetrable - or at least pretty damn near it. However, as logic would dictate this is not so. And it certainly is not the case tonight. What I am about to tell you may come as a surprise." He paused and the silence which followed was ominous. "Gentlemen, have you ever heard of the legend of Zelda?"
* * *
"So its not an old wives' tale after all," one of the sturdier looking soldiers commented.
"It would appear that way," came another.
"Yes, but who would have believed in magic and fairies?" chuckled the first not without a little disbelief.
"I wonder why no one has heard mention of their race until now," a third chimed in.
"Heard of who?" Mavrik walked into the sleeping quarters sporting the same overstuffed knapsack over one shoulder.
"They're talking about the race of Faerie." Rone came into the torchlight, arms folded about his chest, face lowered with a bemused grin which would have been almost cocky if not for slightly uplifted corners.
"Faerie? Like in the legends?"
"What are you deaf? Didn't you hear what the commander said?" asked the first man.
"Yes but," he put up his hands in a gesture of peace, "I didn't think he was serious," he lied.
Rone looked at him from behind curious eyes, his face set in stone. "You know, for someone who did so well in the desert, you sure take the words of higher authority lightly."
Mavrik shrugged. "Yeah well, what can I tell you." Inwardly he gave a different reply. 'So, you've been looking through my reports have you? What for, Walker?'
Rone didn't miss a beat. 'Haven't you figured it out yet?' his eyes replied. He had already begun to form his own conclusions.
"Seriously though," the younger man sobered, "I do not doubt that there are endless possibilities for the forms of creation." He turned towards Rone, "Or the fact that the commander's suspicions are probably based upon some form of good judgement." 'And how is your judgement towards me?' he wondered. What the seasoned man did next surprised him.
"I think you have passed my test, Mavrik," he replied aloud. He took a step closer. "I apologize, but I must make certain that all of my men are fit to deal not just with the trials of the body, but with those of the mind which lay ahead as well."
It was all a game. He was testing him, but to what end? This was the part which took a bit more thought on Mavrik's part. Then, 'To see how well I can read others, and how well they can read me. Or perhaps to determine if I would ever prove traitor to my own reasoning.' He nodded decisively. 'Yes, I passed.'
"I accept only the best the kingdom has to offer," Rone continued, extending his hand.
"A little presumptuous, don't you think?" Mavrik smiled, reciprocating the gesture.
"Which brings me to my next point. I haven't yet properly introduced myself." He leaned in and, with a comical play at sarcastic chastity added, "It's Lieutenant Commander Walker."
As you can probably imagine, our young sir's eyes became like saucers with the shock (probably like your eyes right now I might wager). At this the older man laughed.
"Come now, Mavrik, no need to look so.How might I put this?...Stupefied," he said finally. "Oh come off it, son. Relax."
"Sir, I have a feeling we will get on well."
"And why is that?"
"Because you just reminded me of someone back home, the way you spoke."
The newly revealed Lieutenant Commander eyed him suspiciously. "Your girlfriend I shouldn't think. Well, as long as you don't try whispering sweet nothings in my ear when I'm trying to sleep I think we'll get along well enough."
All present laughed and continued to chat as they prepared their bunks for the few hours rest they would receive before heading westward in the morning.
* * *
In Kakariko, the final fading comforts of starglow found Sara's slender form tossing and turning, gripping the sheets in sweaty palms.
There was nothing but vicious dark within her mind. It gripped her in sudden flashes of blinding light. She was floating in this abyss. From the depths of oblivion came great clammy hands to grasp her mercilessly at the throat. She was herself, yet strangely without.
Fingers the color of gang green tore into her flesh to become covered with her blood. The normally supple skin was stretched taught, and she saw her limp body being lifted effortlessly higher into the shadows like a rag doll. Her hands came to wrap around those that were draining her life force in a desperate attempt to survive. She saw herself thrash violently once, twice, and then hang motionless.
The sight of her body torn and beaten was too much to bear. The reality was too much to bear. Sara cried out, but no one came. None were there to hear. Suddenly her eyes opened, revealing eyes that glowed the bright red of the hot liquid running from her open gape.
Again she cried out, and this time the grotesque distortion of herself looked straight into her, seeing through her and began to laugh menacingly. What was at first a low growl grew to a hideous shriek which penetrated the very fiber of her being.
Just as her phantom counterpart began to draw rapidly nearer, Sara awoke with a violent start. She was sitting wrapped in bed sheets soaked in the sweat of her fear. She looked up out of the window over her left shoulder letting the first faint rays of dawn warm pale cheeks.
"It was a dream." There she would remain for a time, alone in the room she shared with her mother, lamenting whether what she had seen would eventually come to pass.
* * *
As Saramye tried to draw comfort from the first born of the Eastern Gold, those same skeins found two columns of Hyrule's finest marching soberly westward towards that light's nightly grave.
The mindless task of placing one foot in front of the other allowed the soldiers' thoughts to wander elsewhere. Mavrik's in particular were bent on the information they had been given by the commander.
"Although there are many forms of the tale, there is one which is actually accurate as written in the Histories. According to the chapters predating the Great Wars, there was once a sovereign noblewoman named Zelda as the legends say. She was an exemplary leader, in fact one of the best these lands have ever known, and during her sixty-year rule the peace went unbroken and the Races did not require treaties of alliances.
However, as a young girl she dreamt frequently, and it was said that the dreams sometimes had an almost prophetic quality to them. One in particular told of the betrayal of one of her father's subjects, who was king before she ascended the throne.
Her suspicions came to pass, and it was the Gerudo King Ganon who proved traitor. Her family was overthrown and the vast desert army slaughtered the rebels of the new regime. The visions had also shown, in what Zelda's mind was a ray of hope during those seven dark years. Soon afterwards, whether by prophecy or coincidence, a young man appeared, challenging the Evil King (as history would later call him) and slaying him within his own halls. Peace was restored, the now grown woman reclaimed her duties, and Hyrule's champion disappeared from record.
This is why there is a clause in the Treaty of Lei which calls for the training of garrison soldiers on desert soil, and although we are now allies with the Gerudo, there are some which still believe that their king will someday return and restore their place in power.
Gentlemen, this is why you have been summoned. There was an uprising only two days ago among the rebels. Already they have a great following among their people. We must disband their faction with the assumption that many of those involved are innocent and were forced into their current situation. That is, until the proper authorities can get involved and conduct a formal investigation.
With that said, good speed and Goddess Blessing to you all. You leave before dawn."
So here they were, marching towards the uncertain wastelands were only the heartiest of the desert born and bred survived. And while the rest of them seemed apprehensive of the task ahead of them, Rone seemed to mind not at all. All the while his eyes were bent perpetually towards the Westlands, every chord of muscle, every fiber of his being drawn taught with the hard lines of determination. The once merry eyes turned cold and lifeless as stone and Mavrik began to understand why none would want to be this man's adversary.
Although he did not realize it, already Mavrik was becoming more and more like the men around him and less and less like the man those nearest to him knew.
The small company continued like this for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon before finally reaching Farore's Bane, where the lush greens of Hyrule suddenly refused to grow and the ground became unsteady and soft. This was the gate to the West. A narrow passage between the arms of the surrounding cliffs and into the valley beyond where the Zora River came crashing down to greet Lake Hylia.
Rone's hand came up suddenly for a halt. "You can rest here a moment before we continue."
The grateful men sighed not without a little discomfort at the long march in such a short time, but gladly set down their gear and precious persons.
"Boh."
"Yes, sir?"
"At ease. Survey the landscape as far as is hospitable and return immediately."
"Sir."
He turned to leave when - "Oh, and Boh."
"Yes, sir?" "Don't try to be a hero."
Mavrik nodded before continuing up the steep passage. 'Don't be a hero', he thought harshly. Its only scouting, what could that possibly entail that would require me to be rash? A good scout isn't seen and doesn't get caught. So why should I?
Shaking away the bitterness he smiled ruefully and was determined to see his task through as best as could be done. No. Better. Keeping to the shadows close to the rock, he made his way through the landscape until he found a niche that allowed for climbing. He had decided that the best view would be one from the top - that and the fact that none could ambush him from above.
The determined youth fought his way to the top and, making sure that he wasn't being followed or watched, proceeded to go about his assignment. What he saw was this:
Nothing but sand and barren earth as far as the eye could see, save for the rumbling of a waterfall from behind one of the bluffs. The canyon below was wide and its walls dangerously high. One could also make out a strange grouping of shadows which suggested yet another passage deeper into the land, seemingly narrower than the one from which he had come.
Not a soul to be beheld. Not a sound save the whistling wind. It seemed as though all of the Goddesses' creatures had truly forsaken this place and all of the surrounding landscape.
Yet the largest obstacle was the fact that, even at the canyon's narrowest point, one still required a bridge to cross. And what was worse, there were no trees about with which to build one. How would the company get across?
The only other option which presented itself upon Mavrik's initial pondering was the rope that every member of the company carried with them in their packs. Otherwise, however, every other commodity they had brought with them was, for all intents and purposes, useless. Yet even assuming that the rope could be heaved to the corresponding ledge, there was nothing on which to snag it on that would provide the adequate support for a man's weight.
Mavrik suddenly snapped his fingers in triumph. His plan might be a bit lengthy and tedious, but it was the only solution he could come up with. Carefully making his way back, he reported his findings to the Lieutenant Commander who said he would save his congratulations until they were on the other side of the canyon.
They continued with a few grunts at first, traversing the gap between the rock in single file. The sight they beheld once they had emerged was unforgettable.
Crystal clear waters crashed upon the stone hundreds of feet below in an opaque mist. The once placid river's flow had increased over its miles of travel and evolved to a raging roar.
Rone's voice rang like a shot in the otherwise empty space. "Well, men, onwards."
Once again the men unshouldered their packs, each of them producing a coil of thick rope. Knotting them together, each man climbed down the side of the cliff face one by one while the others held the line fast. The last man was to remain behind in case something went wrong and someone needed to go back to Hyrule City for help.
Once at the banks of the rushing river, the company made their way across by tying the rope about their waist and swimming to the other side. Albeit the river carried them somewhat downstream, the line was long enough to compensate for this. Since Rone was senior person, he was in a position of leadership and therefore was last to cross after all of his men had made it safely.
Securing the rope about him, he tossed the remainder over to Mavrik and the others, who proceeded to pull him across. Yet already the rope had become slippery from the previous crossings, and the soldiers struggled to maintain their grip. They wrapped the rope about their hands and braced themselves against the current, but there was nothing that could have prepared them for what happened next.
Rone disappeared suddenly beneath the rushing river.
"Wait! Stop!" someone called.
"Where's the LT?" another cried.
Mavrik tried but could see no one. The only thing he knew that they could do was to keep hauling in the rope. Saying as much to the others, they began to pull harder, afraid every second that the line would snap under the pressure or that they would unwittingly scrape the LT against some unforeseen rock at the bottom of the riverbed. Finally a great hand shot out of the water and a half-drowned Rone was pulled out. "Well, that was interesting. Suppose the river wanted to see who could hold their breath the longest and I guess I almost lost. Thank you."
He looked each of them in turn with a silent nod in gratitude before removing and wringing out his sopping shirt and telling them all to press on.
As Mavrik had deduced earlier, the Gerudo must have carved out an emergency path up the other side of the cliff face, and so they had. Finding the hidden path was another story until someone serendipitously decided to rest by the waterfall and found it concealed behind. The path was quite slippery and the men hard a difficult time maintaining their footing. After every one of them had stumbled at least once or twice, they had finally reached the top.
Once again Mavrik was called upon to scout the terrain ahead, and once again he found that everything looked in the clear. By this time nightfall was well under way and there was only the pale moon above to guide them. Yet the same soft footing and darkness which muffled and kept them hidden, cloaked their enemies quite nicely as well.
Gerudo scouts pursued the company on all sides, each armed with a pair of deadly swords. They scurried about in the shadows behind and on the rocks above, observing, planning. It was midnight before the company reached the great stairs hewn from the stone that led to the imposing fortress above.
It was soon after their discovery that the first arrows were shot and the first cries rang out in the ominous desert silence.
It would be well after dawn before the last of the blood would be shed.
* * *
Travel to the Great City was predictable. None were to be seen on the dirt roads, deserted for the present until morning. The great orb of the moon hung silently in the heavens above, accompanied by the pinpricks of stars, her ladies in waiting. She illuminated the pitch of darkness almost as if a beacon solemnly lit specifically for his travels on this lonely night. The silence was almost ominous. Not a blade of grass stirred, not a cricket's soft chirp to be heard.
The massive south gate was open, illuminated by bright torches in the sconces to either side. Mavrik's boots seemed to make a great hollow boom with every step, and he could almost hear an angry citizen calling after him.
"Ho there, lad!" someone shouted from the walls above, and Mavrik jumped at the sound. "What business does a traveler such as yourself have here at this time of night?"
Looking up he found a nameless soldier in full arms. "I received a summons," came the reply.
"Eh?" said the man rubbing his mustache, a look of consternation coming over his fat face. "Oh! Now I remember! You're that missing lad we've been expecting, aren'tcha, Mavrik Boh?" and his eyes gleamed as he said it.
"Yes, sir."
"Well come on up then and join the party!"
Mavrik nodded, mumbling his thanks, and went towards the soldier opening the door in the passage to his right. The soldier nodded his recognition and called up, "Yep, it's him alright, Garon."
Stepping inside the narrow, dimly lit passage Mavrik could see his fellows already formed up against one wall. They looked just as weary as he felt, albeit they had had more time to make themselves presentable. The commander stopped his inspection and came over to him.
"Well then, Mr. Boh. You're late. Not a good sign from a soldier. I hope this, or anything like it, will not happen again," he said purposefully.
"Yes, sir," he replied and took the last place next to a sturdy looking man in his early thirties.
"Not good enough to be a soldier, eh?" the taller man whispered. "Well, I bet you know a few places where he could shove those words."
Mavrik chuckled low in his throat. "You bet. He's right, though." "Yeah, that's what makes it worse." He looked over at him. "I'm Rone Walker." Mavrik took the invitation, "Mavrik Boh."
"Gentlemen?" the commander called from further down the lines. Both men immediately turned to stone.
Mavrik sized the other man over from the corner of his eye. There was something compelling about him, there was a mischievous fire in his intense gray eyes shaded by raven hair that suddenly made him want to fight alongside this man, fight for him as comrades.
As it turned, Rone was the son of Rosseyn Walker, one of the greatest military minds of the age. It seemed appropriate that his son should tread his path. Everyone had heard of him. He had co-written and revised the treaty of Lei. His son, by contrast, hated war yet was a better archer than he was a diplomat.
"Gentlemen," the commander began, interrupting Mavrik's thoughts. "I am sure that you all have conceived of the notion at one point or another within your young lives that our great kingdom of Hyrule, with its unifying treaties, impressive walls of protective stone, and its exemplary soldiers, that we are impenetrable - or at least pretty damn near it. However, as logic would dictate this is not so. And it certainly is not the case tonight. What I am about to tell you may come as a surprise." He paused and the silence which followed was ominous. "Gentlemen, have you ever heard of the legend of Zelda?"
* * *
"So its not an old wives' tale after all," one of the sturdier looking soldiers commented.
"It would appear that way," came another.
"Yes, but who would have believed in magic and fairies?" chuckled the first not without a little disbelief.
"I wonder why no one has heard mention of their race until now," a third chimed in.
"Heard of who?" Mavrik walked into the sleeping quarters sporting the same overstuffed knapsack over one shoulder.
"They're talking about the race of Faerie." Rone came into the torchlight, arms folded about his chest, face lowered with a bemused grin which would have been almost cocky if not for slightly uplifted corners.
"Faerie? Like in the legends?"
"What are you deaf? Didn't you hear what the commander said?" asked the first man.
"Yes but," he put up his hands in a gesture of peace, "I didn't think he was serious," he lied.
Rone looked at him from behind curious eyes, his face set in stone. "You know, for someone who did so well in the desert, you sure take the words of higher authority lightly."
Mavrik shrugged. "Yeah well, what can I tell you." Inwardly he gave a different reply. 'So, you've been looking through my reports have you? What for, Walker?'
Rone didn't miss a beat. 'Haven't you figured it out yet?' his eyes replied. He had already begun to form his own conclusions.
"Seriously though," the younger man sobered, "I do not doubt that there are endless possibilities for the forms of creation." He turned towards Rone, "Or the fact that the commander's suspicions are probably based upon some form of good judgement." 'And how is your judgement towards me?' he wondered. What the seasoned man did next surprised him.
"I think you have passed my test, Mavrik," he replied aloud. He took a step closer. "I apologize, but I must make certain that all of my men are fit to deal not just with the trials of the body, but with those of the mind which lay ahead as well."
It was all a game. He was testing him, but to what end? This was the part which took a bit more thought on Mavrik's part. Then, 'To see how well I can read others, and how well they can read me. Or perhaps to determine if I would ever prove traitor to my own reasoning.' He nodded decisively. 'Yes, I passed.'
"I accept only the best the kingdom has to offer," Rone continued, extending his hand.
"A little presumptuous, don't you think?" Mavrik smiled, reciprocating the gesture.
"Which brings me to my next point. I haven't yet properly introduced myself." He leaned in and, with a comical play at sarcastic chastity added, "It's Lieutenant Commander Walker."
As you can probably imagine, our young sir's eyes became like saucers with the shock (probably like your eyes right now I might wager). At this the older man laughed.
"Come now, Mavrik, no need to look so.How might I put this?...Stupefied," he said finally. "Oh come off it, son. Relax."
"Sir, I have a feeling we will get on well."
"And why is that?"
"Because you just reminded me of someone back home, the way you spoke."
The newly revealed Lieutenant Commander eyed him suspiciously. "Your girlfriend I shouldn't think. Well, as long as you don't try whispering sweet nothings in my ear when I'm trying to sleep I think we'll get along well enough."
All present laughed and continued to chat as they prepared their bunks for the few hours rest they would receive before heading westward in the morning.
* * *
In Kakariko, the final fading comforts of starglow found Sara's slender form tossing and turning, gripping the sheets in sweaty palms.
There was nothing but vicious dark within her mind. It gripped her in sudden flashes of blinding light. She was floating in this abyss. From the depths of oblivion came great clammy hands to grasp her mercilessly at the throat. She was herself, yet strangely without.
Fingers the color of gang green tore into her flesh to become covered with her blood. The normally supple skin was stretched taught, and she saw her limp body being lifted effortlessly higher into the shadows like a rag doll. Her hands came to wrap around those that were draining her life force in a desperate attempt to survive. She saw herself thrash violently once, twice, and then hang motionless.
The sight of her body torn and beaten was too much to bear. The reality was too much to bear. Sara cried out, but no one came. None were there to hear. Suddenly her eyes opened, revealing eyes that glowed the bright red of the hot liquid running from her open gape.
Again she cried out, and this time the grotesque distortion of herself looked straight into her, seeing through her and began to laugh menacingly. What was at first a low growl grew to a hideous shriek which penetrated the very fiber of her being.
Just as her phantom counterpart began to draw rapidly nearer, Sara awoke with a violent start. She was sitting wrapped in bed sheets soaked in the sweat of her fear. She looked up out of the window over her left shoulder letting the first faint rays of dawn warm pale cheeks.
"It was a dream." There she would remain for a time, alone in the room she shared with her mother, lamenting whether what she had seen would eventually come to pass.
* * *
As Saramye tried to draw comfort from the first born of the Eastern Gold, those same skeins found two columns of Hyrule's finest marching soberly westward towards that light's nightly grave.
The mindless task of placing one foot in front of the other allowed the soldiers' thoughts to wander elsewhere. Mavrik's in particular were bent on the information they had been given by the commander.
"Although there are many forms of the tale, there is one which is actually accurate as written in the Histories. According to the chapters predating the Great Wars, there was once a sovereign noblewoman named Zelda as the legends say. She was an exemplary leader, in fact one of the best these lands have ever known, and during her sixty-year rule the peace went unbroken and the Races did not require treaties of alliances.
However, as a young girl she dreamt frequently, and it was said that the dreams sometimes had an almost prophetic quality to them. One in particular told of the betrayal of one of her father's subjects, who was king before she ascended the throne.
Her suspicions came to pass, and it was the Gerudo King Ganon who proved traitor. Her family was overthrown and the vast desert army slaughtered the rebels of the new regime. The visions had also shown, in what Zelda's mind was a ray of hope during those seven dark years. Soon afterwards, whether by prophecy or coincidence, a young man appeared, challenging the Evil King (as history would later call him) and slaying him within his own halls. Peace was restored, the now grown woman reclaimed her duties, and Hyrule's champion disappeared from record.
This is why there is a clause in the Treaty of Lei which calls for the training of garrison soldiers on desert soil, and although we are now allies with the Gerudo, there are some which still believe that their king will someday return and restore their place in power.
Gentlemen, this is why you have been summoned. There was an uprising only two days ago among the rebels. Already they have a great following among their people. We must disband their faction with the assumption that many of those involved are innocent and were forced into their current situation. That is, until the proper authorities can get involved and conduct a formal investigation.
With that said, good speed and Goddess Blessing to you all. You leave before dawn."
So here they were, marching towards the uncertain wastelands were only the heartiest of the desert born and bred survived. And while the rest of them seemed apprehensive of the task ahead of them, Rone seemed to mind not at all. All the while his eyes were bent perpetually towards the Westlands, every chord of muscle, every fiber of his being drawn taught with the hard lines of determination. The once merry eyes turned cold and lifeless as stone and Mavrik began to understand why none would want to be this man's adversary.
Although he did not realize it, already Mavrik was becoming more and more like the men around him and less and less like the man those nearest to him knew.
The small company continued like this for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon before finally reaching Farore's Bane, where the lush greens of Hyrule suddenly refused to grow and the ground became unsteady and soft. This was the gate to the West. A narrow passage between the arms of the surrounding cliffs and into the valley beyond where the Zora River came crashing down to greet Lake Hylia.
Rone's hand came up suddenly for a halt. "You can rest here a moment before we continue."
The grateful men sighed not without a little discomfort at the long march in such a short time, but gladly set down their gear and precious persons.
"Boh."
"Yes, sir?"
"At ease. Survey the landscape as far as is hospitable and return immediately."
"Sir."
He turned to leave when - "Oh, and Boh."
"Yes, sir?" "Don't try to be a hero."
Mavrik nodded before continuing up the steep passage. 'Don't be a hero', he thought harshly. Its only scouting, what could that possibly entail that would require me to be rash? A good scout isn't seen and doesn't get caught. So why should I?
Shaking away the bitterness he smiled ruefully and was determined to see his task through as best as could be done. No. Better. Keeping to the shadows close to the rock, he made his way through the landscape until he found a niche that allowed for climbing. He had decided that the best view would be one from the top - that and the fact that none could ambush him from above.
The determined youth fought his way to the top and, making sure that he wasn't being followed or watched, proceeded to go about his assignment. What he saw was this:
Nothing but sand and barren earth as far as the eye could see, save for the rumbling of a waterfall from behind one of the bluffs. The canyon below was wide and its walls dangerously high. One could also make out a strange grouping of shadows which suggested yet another passage deeper into the land, seemingly narrower than the one from which he had come.
Not a soul to be beheld. Not a sound save the whistling wind. It seemed as though all of the Goddesses' creatures had truly forsaken this place and all of the surrounding landscape.
Yet the largest obstacle was the fact that, even at the canyon's narrowest point, one still required a bridge to cross. And what was worse, there were no trees about with which to build one. How would the company get across?
The only other option which presented itself upon Mavrik's initial pondering was the rope that every member of the company carried with them in their packs. Otherwise, however, every other commodity they had brought with them was, for all intents and purposes, useless. Yet even assuming that the rope could be heaved to the corresponding ledge, there was nothing on which to snag it on that would provide the adequate support for a man's weight.
Mavrik suddenly snapped his fingers in triumph. His plan might be a bit lengthy and tedious, but it was the only solution he could come up with. Carefully making his way back, he reported his findings to the Lieutenant Commander who said he would save his congratulations until they were on the other side of the canyon.
They continued with a few grunts at first, traversing the gap between the rock in single file. The sight they beheld once they had emerged was unforgettable.
Crystal clear waters crashed upon the stone hundreds of feet below in an opaque mist. The once placid river's flow had increased over its miles of travel and evolved to a raging roar.
Rone's voice rang like a shot in the otherwise empty space. "Well, men, onwards."
Once again the men unshouldered their packs, each of them producing a coil of thick rope. Knotting them together, each man climbed down the side of the cliff face one by one while the others held the line fast. The last man was to remain behind in case something went wrong and someone needed to go back to Hyrule City for help.
Once at the banks of the rushing river, the company made their way across by tying the rope about their waist and swimming to the other side. Albeit the river carried them somewhat downstream, the line was long enough to compensate for this. Since Rone was senior person, he was in a position of leadership and therefore was last to cross after all of his men had made it safely.
Securing the rope about him, he tossed the remainder over to Mavrik and the others, who proceeded to pull him across. Yet already the rope had become slippery from the previous crossings, and the soldiers struggled to maintain their grip. They wrapped the rope about their hands and braced themselves against the current, but there was nothing that could have prepared them for what happened next.
Rone disappeared suddenly beneath the rushing river.
"Wait! Stop!" someone called.
"Where's the LT?" another cried.
Mavrik tried but could see no one. The only thing he knew that they could do was to keep hauling in the rope. Saying as much to the others, they began to pull harder, afraid every second that the line would snap under the pressure or that they would unwittingly scrape the LT against some unforeseen rock at the bottom of the riverbed. Finally a great hand shot out of the water and a half-drowned Rone was pulled out. "Well, that was interesting. Suppose the river wanted to see who could hold their breath the longest and I guess I almost lost. Thank you."
He looked each of them in turn with a silent nod in gratitude before removing and wringing out his sopping shirt and telling them all to press on.
As Mavrik had deduced earlier, the Gerudo must have carved out an emergency path up the other side of the cliff face, and so they had. Finding the hidden path was another story until someone serendipitously decided to rest by the waterfall and found it concealed behind. The path was quite slippery and the men hard a difficult time maintaining their footing. After every one of them had stumbled at least once or twice, they had finally reached the top.
Once again Mavrik was called upon to scout the terrain ahead, and once again he found that everything looked in the clear. By this time nightfall was well under way and there was only the pale moon above to guide them. Yet the same soft footing and darkness which muffled and kept them hidden, cloaked their enemies quite nicely as well.
Gerudo scouts pursued the company on all sides, each armed with a pair of deadly swords. They scurried about in the shadows behind and on the rocks above, observing, planning. It was midnight before the company reached the great stairs hewn from the stone that led to the imposing fortress above.
It was soon after their discovery that the first arrows were shot and the first cries rang out in the ominous desert silence.
It would be well after dawn before the last of the blood would be shed.
* * *