Chapter Eleven: Is That Bruschetta?
…
The room Link was shown was on the top floor of the opposite side of the house (perhaps appropriate considering the amount of sniping he had just done with Edward Brettson). He had to admit that the room was probably the best he had ever been in. A four-poster bed with a mattress actually meant for someone Link's size took up most of the room, leaving only a narrow area to walk around on either side of the bed. The desk under the window, a pair of chairs, and a chest at the foot of the bed were clearly hand-made, the desk even sporting preserved bark over the side panels. Link pulled open the heavy curtains to let in light from the eastern sky, long already rid of the morning sun.
This gave him a view of another building behind the property. It was a plain, wooden shack with large barn doors open toward the house. Sprawled on the dirt were a pair of workbenches and almost a dozen sawhorses, some of them either broken or missing whole boards.
Link turned back to the bed and stepped closer to examine the designs on the footboard. The overall field was a crisscrossed etching into the surface, forming a diamond pattern. The only figure this did not fall upon was a raised symbol in the middle of the board. Link had to give the chest a careful shove in order to find that the symbol looked like a pair of sharp-angled ram horns curled inward so that the pair, joined at a point at the bottom, formed a heart shape. Link glanced down at the chest to see that the same symbol was engraved on the lid just above the latch. He investigated the chairs and discovered the same heart shape engraved on the front of the leg frame just under the seat of both chairs. When Link looked over the desk, he saw that the knob-shaped handle of the middle drawer protruded from the same symbol carved into the drawer. There was no doubt that this symbol indicated that all five pieces were the work of the same carpenter.
And Link was quite willing to bet that the carpenter was Sir Brettson himself. Link was amazed to see how quickly things suddenly made sense. The Brettson House was not strictly a knight house; it really was just a family of carpenters that, at some point in its life, gained a knighthood. If the workshop outside was any indication, Sir Brettson was probably more focused on that legacy rather than maintaining his knighthood. No wonder the House was in danger. In this era of machinery and factories, where craftwork of similar or even better durability could be carved out cheaper, Sir Brettson was in a battle he was rapidly losing. While Link had no doubt that Brettson's works were of a fantastic quality, he had no way of keeping it profitable to his House. It probably explained why his son was so exasperated with his "whims"; that ledger he was examining was showing the House's funds slowly draining away with very little income. If Brettson was not working to maintain his knighthood (obvious in the fact that he was at home rather than out and about defending the kingdom), he was receiving no money or land holdings from the royal family.
It almost made Link consider calling an end to his endeavor; as far as he was concerned, the House was leaking wealth enough without trying to put Link into the Watch. He remembered the letter, however, and realized that the House was doomed whether Brettson decided to patronize Link or not. Brettson knew his House was dying, so one more act of "charity" was not going to make much of a difference; it just reduced the amount of time it took for the House to dissolve. Besides, Link was already here. It could only reflect poorly on him if he just turned and left now.
Still. Link had to wonder if there was something he could do to help Brettson out. Surely, there was a way to repay the old knight with more than a mere ounce of pride.
Link changed into a better pair of tan trousers, a pair that was not scuffed up and dingy. He also switched to a navy-blue shirt and pulled his tunic back on. He added a black leather belt to the tunic, although this only seemed to highlight how baggy the tunic looked on his scrawny body. A quick search around the room yielded a small supply of perfumes in a cabinet next to the door. Most of them were floral scents, something Link thought might make him smell like a girl. One that was not, a woody-scented cologne, seemed to be the better choice. Link also found a few stray pieces of twine in the cabinet and decided to use one to tie back his hair so that there was at least some order to the blond mop on his head.
Madame Adara knocked on his door about an hour later. She did not say anything; she barely raised a hand just to gesture at him to follow. She maintained a disinterested discipline about her as she escorted Link to the dining room downstairs and on the back half of the property.
The room was richer-looking, most of the wood appearing newer and polished in comparison to the rest of the house. The table, long with fine-crafted designs under the top and along the legs, was wide enough for six place settings. These had been set up with no additional settings at either end of the table. The food had not been laid out yet, but three of the seats were already occupied. Edward Brettson sat in the middle on the side opposite the door that Link had just come in, his clothes changed to a crimson waistcoat with sleeves ending just before his wrists over a white shirt with frills on the cuffs. To his right was a woman possibly a similar age to him. She also wore crimson, a silk dress with puffy sleeves. The wide neckline of the dress was adorned with sapphires, which served to accent her brilliant, blue eyes. Her hair was gold and curled into long lengths of loose ringlets that covered her shoulders. Upon seeing Link enter, she put on a pained expression as if she had a sudden bout of flatus waiting to be expelled.
The third was an older man wearing just a loose, white, long-sleeve shirt with the front left unbuttoned at the chest. Unlike Edward, his skin looked bronzed, and the open shirt showed off a chiseled chest. His black hair must have been shaved at some point, as all he had was a thin layer of stubble on top of his head. The very definition of a working man, the only thing which appeared to identify this man as a member of the Brettson House was a thick, gold necklace bearing a pendant which, as Link stepped closer, saw was the same heart-shaped symbol he had found on the furniture upstairs. He felt confident that this man, who quite clearly could not be bothered to dress for dinner as Edward and the young woman had, was Sir Reba Brettson.
The man stood up, which caused Edward to cast him an irritated look. "Mister Fieldview, I assume," he addressed Link in a rough voice.
"Yes, Sir Brettson," Link replied.
Sir Brettson grinned. "I'm sorry I didn't meet you when you arrived," he said. "Somewhere between forty and fifty, I started needing a nap in the afternoon." At his side, Edward groaned and placed a hand over his face. Sir Brettson indicated the chair across from him. "Please sit."
"Yes, Sir," Link told him as he quickly strode to the table.
"You don't have to address me every time; I know who the hell I am," Sir Brettson replied, although his voice sounded jovial rather than irritated.
"Shall you require anything else, Master Brettson?" Adara asked from behind Link.
"No, I think that'll do," Sir Brettson replied. "Have the staff start bringing in the food."
"Yes, Master," Adara said.
Sir Brettson took his seat at the same time as Link. Then he pointed at Edward. "I know you met my son Eddi earlier," he told Link. Edward, hand still pressed to his face, groaned at the table in response. "This is his wife Kelly."
"Oh," Link replied, feigning intrigue. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, My Lady."
Edward blew out a sigh, prompting Kelly to give him a confused look. "Yes," she then answered Link. "Thank you, Mister Fieldview."
"Tell me, Mister Fieldview," Sir Brettson said as a group of servants entered with the first course. "How long have you wanted to be in the Watch?"
"A few years now," Link replied as he watched one servant set a plate in front of him. On it was a slice of toasted bread topped with a leaf of lettuce, chopped olives, and a sprinkle of chopped onions.
"And you have no interest working for the police in Ordon?" Sir Brettson asked before taking a bite of his appetizer.
"The Ordon Sheriff can't take me until next year," Link said as he picked up his food in one hand. "And things aren't as exciting in Ordon as they are in Hyrulia."
"Navi seemed to think you at least deserved a chance," Sir Brettson said. "Or else she probably wouldn't have said anything. Did she tell you what she went through to join the Watch?"
"No, I had to figure that out for myself," Link said. "I figured a fairy probably had to jump through a few different hoops to get into the Watch."
"It was a different method," Sir Brettson admitted. He waited for Link to take a bite of his food before continuing. "So, what can you tell us about yourself, Mister Fieldview?"
Link let out a sound as a piece of onion dropped onto his lap. He was about to flick it onto the floor with his free hand until he remembered that it was considered rude to do so in a noble's house. So, he set down the toast and slipped the onion onto the plate next to it. "Well, what would you like to know?" he then asked.
"Well, for instance, how long have you been helping the Ordon Sheriff's Office with their cases?"
"About three or four years. Mostly small things. Petty theft here, battery-and-run there… I once had to help track down a flasher that liked to expose himself to women walking around in the middle of the night. Never really understood why; he didn't have much to be proud of."
"Pff!" All three men at the table turned to see Lady Kelly quickly set down a glass and snatch up a napkin to dab at her face. Her face was bright red as she gave her husband a sidelong glance. "I apologize, Father, Edward…" she murmured.
Sir Brettson, however, started chuckling. "I thought it was funny, too," he told her.
Edward crossed his arms (having finished his appetizer) and asked, "And how many of these cases have you been involved in?"
Link shrugged his shoulders. "Probably average three in a month," he answered. "I would guess nearly a hundred by now."
"Mister Fieldview, have you considered… the average method of joining the Watch?"
"What, four years of additional education?" Link asked. "I did. But I don't have that kinda patience. I've already looked at the precedents set by the Watch. I can be working Homicide in three years the moment I walk in the door."
"Mister Fieldview, an education in law and law enforcement is required by the Watch because it is dangerous to allow the uneducated handle weapons and investigations. If you are truly intelligent, you can see the logic behind this."
"Then it seems like the uneducated shouldn't be allowed to pay their way in. You wanna tell me how often the Watch gets the uneducated simply walking in once they turn seventeen?"
"Mister Fieldview, I—"
"Seven for every educated officer," Link interrupted, forcing Edward to shut his mouth. "It sounds to me like the Watch doesn't mind the uneducated, like they can use their grunts wherever they can get them. What's one more?"
Edward cast his mad-grinning father an irritated glance. "Clearly, you have done the research on this matter," he then told Link. "Yet you would choose the uneducated method. Why would you be so eager to do this?"
"Lack of patience, like I said," Link replied before picking up his toast for another bite.
"And an abundance of arrogance."
Link paused with his mouth open. Then he grinned at Edward. "Oh yeah."
Sir Brettson's chuckle became heartier. "Just as Navi said," he mused. "Tell me: if you should ever discover if one of us has committed a crime, what would you do?"
Link raised his eyebrow at Sir Brettson, wondering if the older man really expected him to act like that was a difficult question. "I would ask my superior to have someone else handle the arrest, with a clear explanation as to why that kinda thing would go wrong."
Edward scoffed. "What, your loyalty to your patron?" he asked with incredulity strong in his tone.
"No," Link replied. "Because anyone investigating what you did would question why I, your beneficiary, is involved with your arrest. It would reek of suspicious behavior and could put both of us in serious trouble. Any superior officer should question that kinda connection before sending me to arrest you."
"And if you had no other choice?" Sir Brettson pressed.
Link locked eyes with him. "Well, then, would you like me to cuff you in front or behind? Sir?"
Sir Brettson laughed. "Good!" he bellowed, attracting confused looks from Edward and Kelly. "Good man!"
"I can hardly see what is so funny, Father," Edward said. "You are talking about being arrested."
"And what crime shall I commit that would warrant that?" Sir Brettson asked in return. "Would you so easily enjoy the loyalty of a beneficiary in the Watch? Mister Fieldview has no reason to treat us as above the law just because we aided him. His first response was actually quite intelligent; I didn't really see that one coming."
"Words," was all Edward said.
"Words we should not have to test, Eddi," Sir Brettson told him. "Mister Fieldview won't do us any favors outside his purview, and, quite clearly, he isn't intimidated by the nobility."
"Yes, I have noticed…" Edward groaned as servants began clearing their appetizers.
"Should you ever decide to arrest the King of Hyrule himself," Sir Brettson said, "I would like to know what he did."
Link raised his cup and pointed at Sir Brettson with the same hand. "I'll be sure to let you know," he said before taking a drink.