Chapter 9

Princess Zelda was bored.

It took an effort for her not to fidget as she sat on the Shadow Lord's oversized throne, listening to two petitioners air out their grievances. Legs crossed, her arms resting on the cool, silver-plated armrests, she managed to keep a smile planted firmly on her face – it stopped her from having to yawn – and nodded as the two townsmen droned on and on and on. It was something about lost sheep. Irritation bit under her skin, making her restless. How could she undo all the wrongs Link had inflicted if the very people she'd sworn to help kept her bogged down with petty trivialities?

"So, you see," the bigger man growled, his skin along with tattered tunic stained with soil, marking him out to be farmer on one of the fields just outside Castleton. Zelda had a vague recollection that the man's name was Toren. It was, she knew, always polite to remember names. "I've had to endure this fool poking and prodding into my land for the past six months," Toren went on. "Always he'd take this, borrow that, always promising to give it all back to me 'next week.'" He snarled as he cast a disgusted look at his opponent. "Well, 'next week' never would come."

The other man was thin and wiry, his eyes darting this way and that. Sweat glistened on his forehead as he wrung his hands with nervous energy. Kayvic was his name. "That doesn't mean," he said, his voice quiet, "that you had the right to steal one of my sheep! The fattest ewe at that!"

The big man chewed on the inside of his cheek, his already small eyes shrinking to narrow, burning holes. "Oh, and you had the right to take my property, did you?" His chest was heaving now, his breathing rapid. "Pathetic worm. I should break you right here. Be thankful that I've got more honour than that and have dragged you in front of the Sha-" He cleared his throat, then glanced at Zelda. "Beg pardon. In front of the Princess." A smile practically oozed over his face. "Now we'll see some justice."

Zelda let out a soft and – she hoped – silent sigh. She threw a surreptitious glance over at the far end of the Throne room. A line of people waited there, each bursting with complaints and the hurts of wrongs unpunished. The Princess wanted to do away with the whole silly process, wanted to at least delegate it all to one of the nobles in the city, but Ruto had managed to convince her that this was the way Link had done it – presiding over everything in person – and it would be too much of a jolt for the people if she changed that so quickly. After all, the Zora had reminded her, she wanted to win the people's hearts.

Her eyes fell upon the two petitioners. She knew how to let her voice don the robes of royalty and so she dipped her words in the clipped inflection of regal transcendence. "This is my decree," she said. "You," she pointed at the bigger man, "will return what you have stolen from your neighbour." She knew a moment of sympathy, knew how it felt to have something she deserved given to someone else. Sheep, the city of Castleton - it didn't matter. She knew injustice and she knew she had to set things right. And so, she added, "in fact, you'll give him back both his ewe and a percentage of your crops, too. To be decided by my advisors."

Toren's jaw dropped open. "What about all the times he took from me? What about justice?" Veins in his forehead throbbed as he struggled to keep control.

"I've suffered his nonsense for six months and no-one – not one – came to my aid. Yes, I took things into my own hands, but let's look at the source of the problem and cut it off there."

Zelda's face ached as she struggled to cling hold to her composure. She wasn't used to having her decisions questioned. "Well, if you'd learned to share in the first place, none of this would have befallen you!"

Hands curling into trembling fists, the big man gasped, "Learn…to…share?" He took in a deep breath. "Are you m-" He stopped himself in time, blinking. "I am not a child, Princess. This is my livelihood. He has his own, and he doesn't take anything from me except out of greed. Pure greed." He threw the other man a look of disgust. "It's his own fault – his own idleness, I should say – that stops him from gaining as big a profit as myself."

The Princess was breathing hard now. What was wrong with these people? She'd said what she had to say; now it was up to them to implement it. Didn't they understand? Clearly she also had to take a closer look at Castleton's education policy, too. "You should help him, anyway," she said. "It's the…it's the nice thing to do. If he's feeling tired, then you should take over the running of his farm as well as yours." Toren looked as though someone had just punched him in the gut. Zelda ignored his expression and stood up. "In fact, that's all I have to say on this matter." She motioned at her guards. "Take them away, both of them."

"Thank you, Princess," Kafic said, his eyes twinkling. "Most kind. So very kind."

The guards surrounded the bigger man, grasping him by his arms. Toren shoved them off, threw one last look of venom at the Princess, then stalked off.

Zelda sank back into the chair, closing her eyes as she massaged her head with the tips of her fingers. "Whose next?" she mumbled.

"Princess Zelda!"

Her eyes flew open at the sound of the bellow. Gripping the sides of her chair in fear, the Princess saw a large Goron push his way through the line, then march into the Throne room. A smaller man darted around, trying frantically to calm him down. Zelda shrank back from the fury bubbling on the Goron's face and, glancing at her guards, took comfort in the fact that she was well protected.

"Is there a problem?" she asked, hoping that her voice was carrying higher than a panicked squeak.

"There is!" the Goron boomed. "I, Jerunia, have a complaint to make." She would have smiled if not for the current circumstances. The Goron always did have a flair for the dramatic.

"Don't listen to him, Princess," the smaller man said, his face looking haggard. Zelda recognised him as the nobleman Mahfouz. He glanced up at the Goron, whispering, "Now now, Jerunia. Don't do or say anything rash."

"Rash!" the Goron cried. "It is she who is being rash! It is she who has inflicted a great wrong on Castleton, this foul witch of a woman."

Mahfouz, his hands trembling, looked up at the Princess and smiled weakly. ""Don't listen to the boy," he said, his face taking on a knowing look. "He was dropped on his head one too many times as a child." He leaned forward, glanced left and right, then gave a sickly whisper. "Went a little a mad."

Jarunia snarled. "It is she who deserves much worse than that. She should be flayed, then flung into the fiery pits of Death Mountain itself!"

"Dropped on his head," Mahfouz said, his voice taking on a desperate twinge. "Repeatedly."

"Why do you not speak?" the Goron's voice shook. "Is it because you know your guilt? Then, come…let me cleanse you with punishment, here in this very chamber and at this very moment."

"See?" the smaller man said, cocking his trembling head at Jarunia. "Absolutely insane."

Zelda tried to keep her gaze cool and level. "And what is your complaint?" she said softly. "Perhaps we can come to some sort of an understanding."

"You…have usurped the true ruler of Castleton," the Goron spat. "You have imprisoned our big brother, our Shadow Lord."

Cocking an eyebrow, Zelda said, "I thought you of all people would be happy to see him go."

Jarunia bared his teeth, a deep growl rumbling from the back of his throat. "You do not know what you have done. Doomed as all, you have. Doomed us."

For a moment Zelda froze, the sheer conviction in the Goron's words pushing a spike of fear into her heart. Then, as though batting away a passing insect, she stamped down on the thought and let her irritation run free. The Princess felt a wave of fatigue drench her body. She'd had enough of this. She'd had enough of being questioned. "Guards, take them away," she said, thrilling in the power she felt as her men snapped to attention.

Curses flew from the Goron's mouth as he was dragged away. "Doomed us!" he screamed as the soldiers strained against him. Once or twice it looked like he was going to break free, but they managed to hold firm. "Not for nothing does Castleton need a strong leader – without one the wolves will come out and stalk their prey. He kept them at bay, don't you understand?" His voice began to die away. "Mark my words! You are prey!" Zelda ignored him as she stepped off the dais that the throne stood on.

"Tingle," she said.

As was his habit, the advisor appeared out of nowhere. "Yes, milady?"

She'd decided to keep him around, decided that his knowledge and apparent neutral stance was worth more than letting him rot in some dungeon. Glancing over at him, Zelda felt that there was something odd about his appearance but couldn't quite place exactly what. "Tell all the people waiting to come back tomorrow," she said. "I'm tired, and I'm going to go for a walk in the Castle's Gardens."

"Yes, milady," he replied. "Very good."

She stepped away from him, then paused. Finally she realised what it was about him that was bothering her. "Tingle."

"Yes, milady?"

"Take off that green hat."

"Very good, milady."

Zelda stepped into the corridor that led down to the lower chambers, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the sudden loss of light, and basking in the cool shadows that fell across her face. She walked swiftly, with purpose, alone with her thoughts. Passing windows on her right she caught glimpses of the Gardens waiting below, saw the fountain standing in the centre, gushing water that fell into a frothy pool. It was early evening, the twilight sky shimmering with a deep blue-black sheen that revealed the winking of the stars. A nice night. Perhaps she could send a message to Ruto to join her here.

It had been a week since Zelda had taken control of Castleton and the weight of power was wearying. To his credit, Link had gone without even a hint of a fight, something that had both surprised and worried her. He was planning something, she was sure of it. She didn't visit him, locked up in the dungeons as he was, and she still didn't know what to do with him. Showing him the ring had failed, and so it seemed there was no way to reverse his condition.

He would have to stand trial, Zelda decided at last. He would have to pay for all he'd done. Her hand fell to the pouch holding her ring and instantly she hissed. How long would it take for her to break free from this childish habit?

Saria, on the other hand, she'd decided to let go. No doubt the diminutive Kokiri was just another of Link's victims, a poor dupe caught in the web that the Shadow Lord had to expertly spun. Zelda had told Saria to go back to her people, to reflect on her actions, then devote herself to those under her charge. Like Link, the small woman had departed gracefully, though the Princess' new network of spies – another policy of the Shadow Lord's that she'd discreetly decided to keep – couldn't tell her if the Kokiri had actually left the city yet.

Her father had been a little harder to dislodge. Zelda bit down on her lower lip as she recalled the lies she'd told him, the tales of how Link had been taken ill and so couldn't see him off, and how the Shadow Lord had left her in temporary charge. The King had grumbled and protested, demanding to see the patient for himself, but Zelda had managed to put into his mind how lonely Malon must be waiting back at the Palace. That was enough for him to leave, though it was with much reluctance. She didn't want to reveal her plans to him just yet, though she ached to show him just how capable she really was. All she needed was the support of the people and her father would see that she was worthy to sit in Castleton's seat of power.

And that, of course, where it had all gone wrong. The people of Castleton had greeted the change of power with the same reaction they greeted the rising of the sun – complete indifference. But as the week drew on and Zelda tried to implement her changes, she knew that comments were being passed around questioning her worthiness, knew that the gossip around the water pump focused on how much everything was better when the Shadow Lord was in charge.

Anger flowed into Zelda's veins. The ingrates! Already in the past week, she'd freed all the slaves, and invited the Gorons to come and live here in the city. Yes, there was now an overabundance of people, yes, there wasn't enough employment for all of them and, yes, she conceded that the price of bread had shot up now there were no more workers in the fields to gather the crops on time, but surely these were just minor ripples and life would sort itself out. It had to. She'd done the right thing. Why couldn't anyone else see that?

Toren's look of hate and Jarunia's dire proclamation flashed in her mind just then. She knew now why the noblemen that visited the Palace always spoke with disdain about the common man's level of intelligence.

A sudden 'thunk' from outside made her freeze. Zelda spun around, her skirts swirling, and scanned the windows. Her heart thudded as she tried to catch even the hint of another sound. Nothing. Had she imagined it?

Then a metallic scrape rung out from beyond one of the windows – the sound of a grappling hook lodging itself into marble - quickly followed by the crack and shatter of breaking glass. The Princess grasped at her belt, hoping to find her sword. She cursed when she realised she hadn't armed herself. Her head snapped up as she saw two figures slide in through the opening. Taking in a deep breath, she stood her ground.

"Well, that was a surprise, I must say," one of them said, a male voice. "I was sure we would plummet straight to the ground, breaking our necks in the process." He paused, as though pondering, then added, "In fact, that may still be our fate."

Zelda recognised the voice instantly. "Bounty hunter," she breathed. She took a step forward, then cried, "Stop!"

The intruders looked up, startled. Starlight fell on the other man, and Zelda saw that it was the foppish braggart, Franco DeZorres. It was he who now spoke. "Well, well. Just the person we were looking for." He nodded at the bounty hunter. "You see? We are lucky, after all."

"No doubt," the other replied, "she has some sort of weapon tucked away, hidden from our view, that she will brandish any moment now heralding our instant demise."

Franco rolled his eyes, sighing. "Does she look like she has a weapon? Tucked away where, exactly? Nowhere, not unless she sits very uncomfortably."

"Perhaps," the Stalfos protested, "she has a bombchu hidden in her bodice."

"Why," Franco said through gritted teeth, "would she have a bombchu there of all places?"

"To kill us, of course."

"How would she even know we were coming?!"

"Then why is she waiting for us here, at exactly the spot where we agreed to enter?" The bounty hunter looked extremely pleased with himself. "She knew we were coming. And she waited." He paused. "With a bombchu." Another pause. "Tucked down her dress. We're dead for certain now."

"A bombchu." Franco was breathing heavily now, his eyes bloodshot. "As opposed to a sword and a whole platoon of guards?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"Why," Franco groaned, "did I pick you as an accomplice? Me, who destroyed the Blight of Blozden with my two bare hands, me, who stopped the Plague of the Hornons with just a bootlace – how did I end up with you in this endeavour?"

"What is it you want?" Zelda spat, cutting off their squabbling. Her voice carried far more strength than her nerves at the moment. In the time they'd taken to argue, she had managed to back away slowly. The far end of the corridor was still quite a distance away, but if she ran fast enough she hoped she could make it. "Why are you breaking into my Castle?"

The Stalfos shuffled forward. "No doubt this will all end messily, with my death being the most gruesome," he said, "but at this point in time myself and my associate – who I fully expect to betray me sometime in the future – have decided that it would be prudent for us to take a more, shall we say, 'hands-on' approach to the affairs of Castleton?"

Zelda tensed, ready to run. She had to ask: "Meaning?"

"Meaning, my dear," Franco replied, standing up straight and brushing down his tunic. "You're about to have the shortest reign in history."

Zelda spun on her heels and sprinted down the passageway. She heard the two men shout after her, but she kept on moving, pushing her muscles until they screamed with pain. She had to get to the lower chambers. Her guards would be there, and they'd have weapons. She could-

The wind flew from her lungs as the Bounty Hunter crashed into her back. They fell to the ground, rolling. Zelda scrabbled for a handhold, hoping to catch them unawares so she could grasp at another attempt at escape. It all crumbled to ash as she felt a boot weigh down on her chest. The Princess glanced up to see the sharp tip of a sword pointed straight at her.

The Bounty Hunter and Franco grinned. "It's a shame," the fop said. "You were so beautiful, too."

The last thing Princess Zelda remembered was her blurred reflection staring back at her from the polished steel of the blade; a blade that loomed closer and closer and…