A note from the Hime no Argh herself–
Hello, readers, thanks for not killing me about the wait between chapters. ^^; I know it's taking a while, I just get so busy and forget to post...well, no more excuses. I want to thank you all for the enthusiastic response this story has been getting; I never expected so much feedback for just four chapters. It's really great knowing someone out there is enjoying The Destined, so thanks again. ^^
Enjoy Chapter 5!
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Chapter 5
Scholar
They took the uninjured horses and the bandits' best weapons, but Zelda refused to loot the corpses.
"It's bad luck," she explained wisely to Link as they continued along the path to Bayside, eyes and ears keened to the signs of any more surprises. The two of them walked behind the wagon, keeping an eye on the tethered horses. "If you loot those you kill, the souls come back to haunt you. Besides, it's dishonorable."
"Honor among thieves, eh?" Link shook his head. "Who'd have thought it?"
Zelda glared at him. "Excuse me, but aren't you the warrior-for-hire?"
"Yes." Link paused a moment. "But I don't just take any job. I mean, I won't assassinate anyone or anything like that. Sometimes I go after wanted criminals, but mostly I do security work. You know, protection and that sort of thing."
Zelda looked at him sharply. "You mean someone hired you to protect me?"
"Huh?"
"You said during the fight in the bar that you were supposed to protect me!"
"I did?"
"What, did you think I'd forgotten?"
"I'd forgotten." Link frowned. "I didn't mean to blurt that out."
Zelda stopped in the middle of the road and eyed him, hands on hips. The wagon moved on without them, but she didn't seem to care.
"Out with it," she ordered at last. "I think it's time I heard the whole story."
Link sighed. "Fine, but I'll warn you now, it's a strange one."
They took seats on a pair of rocks by the side of the road as Link recounted his meeting with the forest spirit as best he could. When he finished Zelda let out a long breath.
"Let me get this straight," she said evenly. "Some little girl you met in the woods told you to find me and protect me? With no apparent reason, motivation, or compensation?" She began to snicker. "And you listened to her?"
"Not at first," Link said, annoyed. "But she told me I could find you in Kakariko, and when I did...well..."
"What I want to know is, how does this girl know about me in the first place?" Zelda demanded, suddenly serious. "And why do I have to be involved in your weird schemes, anyway?"
"They're not my weird schemes!"
"Well, whatever." Zelda stood and brushed dust off the seat of her breeches. "Heck, you're already inaugurated. But look–" She eyed him warily for a moment. "I don't need protection, okay? I can take care of myself."
"I know," Link replied, gazing steadily into her eyes. "But there are some things in this world from which you can't protect yourself alone."
Zelda's eyes widened sharply as though she were startled, but then a shout echoed down the road from the wagon: "Miss Zelda! Bayside is in sight!"
"Oh! Okay!" Zelda gave Link one last, odd look, then turned and darted after the wagon.
Link followed at a slower pace, shaking his head. What in Din's name made me say that? he wondered.
* * *
They set up half a mile from the town, staking the wagon near the road and unhitching the oxen to roam and graze on the grassy hillsides at the foot of Death Mountain. A breeze blowing from the east carried the salty tang of the sea.
"Here we continue on foot," Zelda decreed as the thieves and Link gathered. "We'll split up into smaller groups so we don't garner much attention. Keep an eye out for blue-shirts. If you want to pick a few pockets I won't say no, but watch your step.
"Okay, I want the groups like this," she continued. "Marek, Dagger, and Cleo, you three are watching the cart–" She frowned as Marek and Dagger voiced disappointed groans. "Don't you start, it's your shift. Rune is with Parcleus. Bolo, you're with Oberon, and as for you, Link..." She smiled a bright, pearly–toothed smile. "Link, meet Impa!"
Link cast an apprehensive look at the formidable woman, who rolled her eyes at Zelda's proclamation. Intimidation aside, Link had the distinct feeling Zelda was attempting to distance herself from him. For some reason this distressed him.
"That's it," Zelda concluded. "We meet back at the wagon tomorrow at dawn. Have fun!"
The thieves split into their groups and headed on foot to the village, chattering and laughing. Link and Impa were left staring at each other.
At last Impa sighed. "Look, boy, I don't really care whether or not you stay with me. Just don't get in my way."
"My name is Link, not boy," Link informed her, determined not to be intimidated by her.
Impa raised a brow as if she thought he was being cute, then turned and headed toward the village without a glance back.
With nothing else to do, Link followed her. "What do you suppose Zelda's doing?" he wondered aloud.
Impa shrugged. "Whatever the head of a thieving troupe does in her spare time. Why do you care?"
"No reason," Link said slowly. "I was just wondering."
"Hm." Impa glanced back at him momentarily, her blood-red eyes regarding him thoughtfully.
"What?" Link demanded. "Why do I keep getting these weird looks?"
Impa's eyes glittered strangely. "You don't know, do you?"
Link felt a chill go up his spine. "Know what?"
For several long moments the two gazed at one another, as if each were waiting for something. At last Impa smiled mysteriously, turned, and walked calmly down the road again.
The hair on the back of his neck was prickling. Telling himself nothing abnormal had just occurred, Link followed the red-eyed woman.
* * *
Bayside was a village sprawled on the coast, comprised mainly of bamboo-walled, circular huts with straw roofs, built on stilts and primitive wooden walkways that extended out into the ocean. The rocky bay made for hard landings and the port farther north attracted most overseas visitors; Bayside was simply a poor farming village. Its people cultivated sugar cane in the fields and rice on the terrace paddies built up the mountain, barely meeting the demands for Ganondorf's ridiculous tributes while struggling to feed their own. In consequence most of the villagers hadn't two Rupees to rub together, let alone anything worth stealing. Except, of course, for the scholar who lived in the lighthouse just south of the village.
Then again, Zelda had always made it a rule not to steal from her friends. Instead of sneaking inside the lighthouse she took a more direct approach–the front door. Two loud, firm knocks summoned forth an irritable voice from inside the lighthouse.
"Yeah? Whaddya want?"
"Why, knowledge and wisdom, of course!" Zelda called brightly.
There was a silence, then abruptly the door flew open and Zelda was caught up in a bone-crushing hug. "Zelly! Ye old thief, welcome back!"
"What did I say about calling me Zelly?" Zelda gasped, wriggling free of the squeezing arms. Laughing, her old friend stepped back, giving her the chance to breathe. The round-bellied, thick-armed Goron had likely once been the strongest of warriors, but in his old age dedicated himself to the wealth of books and age-old manuscripts in his overflowing library. His beetle-black eyes were sharp and bright with intelligence, his wide mouth stretched into a welcoming smile. His head was as bald as a newborn's, but the wrinkles in his tough, leathery hide spoke of hardships and age.
Zelda grinned. "Yorgun, you haven't changed a bit. How've you been, you old rock?"
"Eh, well enough, well enough. How 'bout ye?" Yorgun fixed her with his sharp stare. "Ye been stayin' outta trouble?"
Zelda grinned. "Of course."
"Good! Here, have a seat–"
He shoved a pile of books off of a chair and offered it to Zelda, who carefully sat. There was barely a clear surface to be seen in the old lighthouse. Bookshelves stuffed with books and manuscripts concealed nearly ever inch of the circular, stone walls; scrolls and pieces of parchment littered the floor. There was a single table and two chairs in the middle of the room, covered with still more books and parchment.
"Would ye like some tea?" Yorgun asked, doubled over as he shoved through a pile of books on the floor. Zelda glanced around, unable to spot tea bricks, kettles, cups, or even a hearth, for that matter.
"Don't trouble yourself. I'm not staying for long anyway."
"Aye." Yorgun straightened with a groan. "Yer always runnin' off on some adventure with yer band o' thieves. So what kin I do fer ye?"
"I found an item recently and I was wondering if you had anything on it. A sword."
"A sword, eh?" Yorgun began searching through his books again. "Go on then, what's it look like?"
"Well–" Zelda hesitated, thinking. "It's a very ordinary design, probably a thousand others almost exactly like it–only this one's goddess-marked."
Yorgun abruptly straightened and stared at her, wide-eyed. "Did ye say–did ye say goddess-marked?" he asked timidly. His eyes grew slowly wider and rounder. "Might I see it?"
Zelda shook her head sadly. "The owner refuses to part with it. I pulled all my tricks, believe me," she added.
"Oh." Yorgun looked disappointed for a moment, then brightened. "Well, that narrows it down. One thing there was never much of was a goddess-marked weapon. Gimme a moment–"
Zelda nodded quickly, eager to see Yorgun work his magic. The old Goron closed his eyes.
"Goddess of wisdom and truth," he intoned, "show me the knowledge I seek."
Zelda had to duck as a book abruptly flew off a bookcase, thumping solidly into Yorgun's outstretched hand. "Well, who'da thought that such a creaky ol' spell still works?" the Goron said gleefully, flipping through the pages of the book.
Zelda leaned forward so she could read the title. "The Chronicles of Fate? What's that about?"
Yorgun shrugged. "Ne'er read it. Too many books in me library to read."
"Why do you have them then, if you don't read them?" Zelda wanted to know.
Yorgun gave her a look as if she were being dense. "For knowledge."
"Oh. Of course," Zelda agreed as the old Goron thumbed through the book.
"Lessee...ahah." Yorgun thumped the book down onto the table in front of Zelda and pointed to a charcoal sketch on the yellowing, faded page. "This yer sword?"
Zelda stared at the picture and gasped. "Why–that's exactly it!" It was, right down to the small Triforce mark beneath the hilt. Peering at the caption, she read aloud, "The Master Sword. Is that its name?"
"Master Sword, eh?" Yorgun took the book back and stared at it, frowning. "I coulda sworn I've heard that somewhere before...ach, maybe I'm just gettin' senile."
"Well, I wouldn't deny that." Zelda swiped the book from Yorgun's hands. "Listen, can I borrow this?"
Yorgun looked at her sharply. "Ye gonna return it, then?"
"Of course! I mean, you know, eventually. Dunno when I'll be back in Bayside."
"Well, s'long as it gets back to me someday. By the way, how's yer studyin' goin'?"
Zelda shrugged. "Okay, I guess. It's hard to come by books."
"Well, in that case, I'll lend ye another o' mine." Yorgun stepped carefully over a pile of scrolls to get to one of his bookcases, where he took down a very old, very dusty book. He waded through the mess and gave it to Zelda.
Zelda glanced at the title. "The Art of War?"
"Aye. It's about–"
"Making war?"
"Nay, it's about–"
"The art of making war?"
"Nay! The strategies of warmakin' are the same as the strategies of livin', see? It don' tell ye how to make war, it tells ye how to conquer the world."
"Really?" Zelda sifted through the book, her curiosity piqued. "But no one can conquer the world with Ganondorf in power."
"Aye, but he won't be in power forever, ye mark my words," Yorgun said with certainty. "Tyrants don' stay in power fer long. Ye read any history book, it'll tell ye the same."
Zelda would have liked to believe that. "Well, thanks anyway for the books, Yorgun. I'll get 'em back to you."
"Yer goin' already?" the Goron said unhappily.
"I have to," Zelda said apologetically. "It's dangerous to stay here for long, The blue-shirts were looking for us just a town over."
Yorgun shook his head. "They wouldn't if ye wasn't always gettin' in trouble. But eh, nothin' doin'. Ye watch yer step, aye?"
Zelda nodded and shifted the books in her arms so that she could extend a hand. "I will, Yorgun. It was nice seeing you again."
Yorgun looked at her hand, then squeezed her in a hug again. "Take care o' yerself, Zelly."
"Oh, none of that Zelly business, all right?" Zelda hugged him back affectionately, then wriggled free. "I'll see you again."
She turned to go, but suddenly a voice rang out from behind her. "When you return here at last, you will be as the goddesses themselves."
Zelda whirled around. "What did you say?" she gasped.
"Eh?" Yorgun blinked at her. "Sorry, I musta dozed off there–"
Zelda stared at him uncertainly, the back of her neck prickling. She could have sworn the voice had been that of a woman.
* * *
To be continued.