A note from the Hime no Argh herself–
This will probably be my last updated chapter before The Big Move, or rather, my transition from home to college. Once I'm there, however, I'll have a super-fast and best of all FREE internet connection at my disposal, so no reason I won't be able to continue updating. ^^ Expect another chapter sometime during the coming weekend, probably.
You may have noticed that I'm updating quicker than usual lately. That would be because my writer's block appears to have left me (for the time being, anyway) and I'm plowing through chapters at light speed. Don't take this as a indication of anything though, please. As I'm sure everyone here knows, writer's block has a nasty habit of coming back again and again. -.-
Oh well. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the story. ^^
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Chapter 7
Training with the Thieves
The next morning the thieves set out again, heading south along the coast. Zelda curled up in the wagon, deeply immersed in her book–the other book.
"The Art of War?" a voice demanded. Zelda glanced up over the rim of the book into Link's scowling face.
"It tells you how to conquer the world!" Zelda informed him enthusiastically.
He made a face. "I thought you were going to read that Chronicle whatsis."
"I am." Zelda buried her nose in the book again. "This one first."
"Don't bother, boy," Impa said dryly from across the wagon, where she sat immersed in a game of dice with Dagger and Marek. "Once she starts reading you have to bang pots in her ears to distract her. She's like her mother, in that respect."
Zelda glanced up over the rim of the book again, examining Impa with interest. Her second-in-command was right about her–only certain subjects could manage to distract her, and her mother was one of them. Impa seemed very reluctant to talk about her mother, limiting herself only to pensive comments and comparisons. Even now the woman carefully avoided Zelda's gaze, her head bent as she watched the next dice roll.
Zelda sighed. She'd learned long ago that it was impossible to coerce any information out of the very obstinate Impa, so trying now would be pointless.
She returned to her book for another hour or so, hardly noticing the activities of the thieves as they drifted in and out of the moving wagon, switching watch and driver shifts. Somewhere around noon Impa gave the order to halt the wagon. Zelda put her book away and crept out of the wagon, stretching a cramped back.
The other thieves followed, balking at the sight of the spacious, flat, grassy plain beside the road on the cliffs above the sea. "Well, this is nice," Zelda said cheerily, ignoring groans and disgruntled mutters. "Perfect place for training. Whose turn is it to lead us?"
No one seemed to want to answer. At last Dagger supplied miserably, "Impa's."
The Sheikah smiled thinly.
"Okay then," Zelda said brightly. "Impa, why don't you get us started?"
"What about him?" Impa asked bluntly, jerking a thumb in Link's direction, who lounged in the grass beside the wagon. He glanced up as they all turned to stare at him.
"What?"
"Training," Parcleus replied glumly.
"Sorry?"
Bolo rolled his eyes. "Lazy. I knew it."
Zelda shot a warning look at him. "He just joined. He doesn't know how we do things." To Link she explained, "We do training sessions on the road every day, if we can manage it. Yesterday's bandits were training enough," she added, and the thieves agreed vigorously. "We take turns leading everyone else in basic combat exercise. It's Impa's turn today–"
"She rides us with a whip and chain," Marek muttered under his breath.
Unfortunately for him, Impa had heard. "Was that a complaint?" she demanded, marching over to glare into Marek's eyes. "I don't want to hear it! Today you're my herd, so you train how I want to, with no complaints, got it?" She raised her voice so that it pitched over the entire group. "I'm sure I'm not the only one who noticed those bandits attacking us yesterday. Training keeps us alive, lambs! Thank the goddesses for prodding Zelda to create these training sessions, as soft as she is on you–"
"Stop, Impa, you're making me blush," Zelda said, pretending to fan herself.
"Everyone here trains, and no one complains," Impa concluded ominously, glaring at them all to make sure the lesson stuck. She then cast a very meaningful glance at Link.
He raised his hands appeasingly as he jogged over to join their group. "I'm not arguing."
"Good." Impa smiled wickedly. "Get running, lambs. Run like the wolves are after you."
The Sheikah put them through their paces, first by having them jog around the field until they were ready to collapse, then a bout of stretches. After that came hand-to-hand combat, self-defense, sword, dagger, and axe work, and archery using flimsy paper targets tacked up on trees. Back and forth Impa went down their line, yelling like a drill instructor. They'd all learned long ago to jump at her lion's roar.
Zelda participated in every activity without complaint, knowing that the thieves were less likely to grumble if she did everything alongside them. Impa spared her no more than she did anyone else, telling her first that her punches and kicks were softer than butter, then informing her that a child with a wooden sword could handle himself better than she in sword combat. At least in archery Impa had nothing to yell about. Wielding her enormous longbow, Zelda hit her target dead center every time.
She was surprised to see that Link's arrows were a bit more spread out. Perhaps he saved his skills for combat. Impa, pausing to watch his work, shook her head in disgust.
"My grandma shot better than you!" she bellowed, making Link jump. "You might as well take that string and floss your teeth with it!"
Zelda watched Link out of the corner of her eye to see how he would react, and was pleased to see that he merely gritted his teeth and kept shooting. Impa caught her looking.
"GET BACK TO PRACTICE!"
"Yes ma'am," Zelda replied quickly, obeying.
* * *
Later Impa paired them all up, including herself, for one-on-one sword combat. Link found himself facing off with Bolo, who scowled at him, and sighed inwardly. It seemed Bolo was in no hurry to make peace between them.
Impa gave the order to begin. To Link's relief, Bolo didn't seem to want to try anything with Impa standing right next to him in the line. He and Link politely traded blows and blocks at Impa's command. The kid's technique wasn't bad, Link thought, but his stance was off–the right blow would knock him off his feet easily. Link resisted the urge to tell him so; he had a feeling Bolo would not welcome the advice.
Impa had no such qualms. "Your stance is weak!" she bellowed at Bolo after a few moments. "Correct it!" Red-faced, Bolo moved his feet into the right position, then glared at Link as if daring him to comment. Link kept his face carefully bland.
After about fifteen minutes, Impa gave the order to halt. She let the thieves rest for a few minutes, then paired them off again with different opponents. Soon only she and Link were left.
"This is free combat," Impa announced. "Fight under your own discretion. You won't always have me to give the commands." She crooked her finger at Link, beckoning him to stand before her in the line.
"You're better than everyone here at the sword," she informed him in a low voice, her red eyes gleaming in a way he didn't like. "Let's see how you do against me, boy."
Link swallowed. I'm in trouble.
"Begin!" Impa commanded.
Instantly she flew at him, arching her sword up over her head and down at him with a godlike speed. Link barely brought his blade up in time to block hers. She backed him out of the line with a flurry of chops and slices, steel whirling through the air as the screech of metal on metal echoed around them. Link forgot about everything else as he fought to keep up with Impa's furious strikes, each time stopping them within a hair's width of his body. Okay, he thought grimly, time to get serious.
When Impa arched her sword up and down again, he met it and slid his blade into hers, locking them together at the hilt. This was a mistake–Impa was taller, stronger, and heavier than him, and used her advantage in weight to bear down. Link's arms shook with the effort of keeping her blade away.
"Come on, boy," Impa whispered, her face shining with sweat. "You're never going to get anywhere if you can't defeat little old me. Think. There must be some way out of this."
Link thought. He hated to resort to dirty methods, but something told him Impa wouldn't fault him for doing so. With a quick, abrupt movement Link ducked under the locked blades–Impa lost her balance and stumbled forward–and rammed his shoulder into her belly. She gave a short gasp as Link twisted away from her, freeing his sword and driving it directly at her heart–
Impa deflected it in a sweeping arc and thrust the point of her sword at his throat. There she stopped, pressing the sword point lightly into his flesh.
"Good," she said with a crooked smile. "Very good. You might have something here, boy."
She took her sword away and Link drew in a long breath. Abruptly he became aware that they had an audience–all of the thieves, even Zelda, had stopped their own exercise to watch his duel with Impa openmouthed.
Impa also noticed the onlookers. "Something for you?" she asked calmly. Instantly there was a flurry of movement, but the Sheikah waved a hand dismissively. "Never mind. We're done for the day."
An audible sigh of relief went up, and thieves collapsed left and right to the grass. Link was with them–he felt exhausted, and his body was aching all over.
"Impressive display," a familiar voice said. Link looked to his right. Zelda knelt beside him, offering a water flask.
"Thanks," Link said, surprised. He took the flask and gulped down as much water as he could hold.
When he was done Zelda took the flask back and regarded him seriously. "That was absolutely incredible. Where the hell did you learned to fight like that?"
Link stared at her. "Incredible? I didn't even get a chance to strike!"
"No one beats Impa," Zelda insisted. "In fact, everyone loses within about two seconds. I've fought her before–I have a scar on my shoulder to show for it. But you blocked every one of her blows like they were nothing!"
"Not the last one," Link pointed out.
Zelda shook her head. "Even so, that was unbelievable. Where on earth did you learn?"
Link gazed at the sword in his lap, tracing the outline of the goddess-mark below its hilt. "I didn't," he said at length. "There was no one to teach me. I guess I just taught myself–sword fighting has always come naturally to me."
Zelda shook her head again, smiling wryly. "You really are a piece of work, aren't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing, really. It's just...I've never met anyone like you. You keep surprising me, to the point that I wonder how you'll surprise me next."
"Not too unpleasantly, I hope," Link kidded.
Zelda smiled, her eyes meeting his directly. For a moment Link's breath caught in his throat; he blinked, surprised at himself.
"I'd better go help with dinner," she said apologetically, standing. Across the clearing, Link could see Cleo, Marek, and Parcleus building a fire. "See you later."
Link watched her as she retreated, then lay back in the grass, gazing up at the darkening sky. It was just the exercise that made his heart hammer in his chest, he told himself. Nothing more.
* * *
To be continued.