Notes:
We finally reach the desert! Thank you all for your patience. I do hope to go back to a weekly schedule at some point when things quieten down again. 3
~x~
The morning dawns grey and drizzling, and they go about their tasks in gloomy silence. Paya, especially, is quiet; Link is just beginning to wonder whether he should go talk to her when Granté goes over, sitting close next to her as they eat their bowls of porridge.
"I should send grandmother an update," she says finally. She's been sending brief check-ins since they left Kakariko, largely just noting how far they've travelled. This message is going to need quite a bit more detail.
"We should decide our course of action, first," Dorian says. "Our plan of sneaking in undetected is almost certainly no longer viable."
Link agrees, "The Yiga will notice when their operatives don't return, even if they didn't manage to send off a message. They'll be on high alert."
"What if we convince them we're on their side?" Granté suggests. "Make them take us into the stronghold, and then take out the leader from within?"
"I don't think they would believe that Dorian is still loyal," Paya says, frowning. "And if they know who I am, they won't believe it of me either."
"Perhaps not," Dorian says. "But we could probably make them believe that I was taking you all to the stronghold on false pretences, intending to hand you all over to save the lives of my daughters. It's not a bad idea, going in through the front entrance."
"Even if that gets us inside, it's still going to be much harder to take out the Yiga leadership with their eyes already on us," Link says. "How about some of us doing that to provide a distraction, giving cover for another to sneak in?"
Granté looks thoughtful. "Dorian and I, with Link as a prisoner? I could be a convert, and either don't know or don't care that Dorian is just saving his own hide. Paya sneaks in - she was spooked by the spies attacking and we don't know where she ran off to?"
"It's not very believable that you'd be able to cart me all the way up into the highlands as a prisoner with just two people to keep watch over me," Link points out. "And that's putting a lot of pressure on Paya."
"I can do it," Paya interjects. "But I think you're right that it's not quite believable enough. How about this - you killed the spies and fled, so Granté and Dorian captured me to use as bait for you, or as a bargaining chip with the rest of the Sheikah? Then you can be the one to sneak in."
"Paya, I couldn't possibly let you take such a risk," Dorian says.
"Are the Yiga stupid, Dorian?" Paya asks him, chin jutted out stubbornly.
Dorian looks uncomfortable. "No. They are ruthless and misguided, but not stupid."
"Then they won't kill me. I'm much more valuable alive. Whereas they may very well simply kill Link on sight."
"They can try," Link snorts.
"I think it's the best plan we've got," Granté says.
"I agree," Link says. "Even though I don't like the idea of splitting up. But the Yiga seem to be after me more than anyone, so maybe that is safer."
Dorian sighs. "Very well. I cannot think of a better plan."
"We should take the cart and horses with us," Granté says, "if we're meant to be taking Paya as a prisoner. We can always ditch it when we get into the foothills."
"And I should probably head out, if I'm meant to be fleeing an attempted assassination," Link says in a wry tone. "I guess I'll go activate the local tower. Maybe see what the scuttlebutt in Kara-Kara is, if there's any news about Vah Naboris. You'll be slower with the cart, so even with the detour I may still reach the mountains first."
"We'll keep in touch," Paya says, coming in for a hug. "Be safe."
The tower is a beacon sprouting upward from the clifftops high above the canyon. The cliff face below has a massive scar gouged into it, which must surely be where Vah Naboris was excavated. The bleached remains of walkways cling to the rock still, and detritus from the dig remains scattered around. Link nudges a bucket with his toe, and it rolls noisily away. The weather here is so dry that even a century exposed to the air hasn't fully rotted it.
Link leaves Epona in as sheltered an area as he can manage, with a pile of apples and carrots to munch her way through, and assesses the climb. Once he has a route held in his mind's eye, he tests his weight on the first ladder, and finding it good, starts to shimmy up. Even this late into autumn the sun bakes down harshly on the Gerudo region, and he stops frequently to sip from his water skin. The ropes are rough under his palms; the planks dry and splintering under his boots. Birds wheel in the thermals thrown up by the cliffs, calling out to him raucously. Their cries are the only sound in the sun-baked landscape.
About halfway up one of the supports breaks free as he steps onto a walkway, and he grabs wildly onto the suddenly-dangling structure until the surge of adrenaline subsides, then carefully inches up onto solid footing once more. Thankfully, the rest of the climb up the cliffs is uneventful. There's a herd of electric chuchus rolling idly around below the tower, but cryonis halts them in their tracks, and they glare indignantly at Link as he passes. From there it's just a tedious crawl up the lattice of the tower itself, and a pleasant paraglide back down to Epona.
In the canyon, the walls close in around him, echoing back every hoof beat and protecting him from all but a few hours of the sun. They cast the road into deep shadow the rest of the time. He camps out, the first night, then stops at the caravanserai at the desert gateway the next, to sleep and refill his water. Almost everyone who passes through this way stops here, with water sources becoming scarce this close to the desert, and the stables tucked under the rocky shelf are packed with horses. Most are the sleek golden mounts preferred by the Gerudo patrols where the terrain is firm enough for horses, but there's a smattering of traders' mules too. And, just visible in the rocks above, the glow of a shrine which he makes a note to visit on the way out.
The cool, dark interior of the caravanserai is a welcome relief from the late afternoon heat. Covered walkways line a central courtyard with a shaded well, and Link ducks into the main gathering space to hand over some rupees for dinner and a bed. That gets him a bowl of shredded lamb and roasted chickpeas, topped with sour, tangy yoghurt and crisp slices of cucumber. There's a place open next to a young man in blue, who's giving Link the same itchy-familiar feeling that people sometimes do. He's yet to work out how to tell whether that just means they remind him of people he knew before, or are related to them - or if they're people he met in previous lives. This guy has a mop of brown hair, a large nose, and a backpack propped behind his bench with a frame like the horns of a stag beetle.
"Hey hey!" he says as Link sits down, full of cheer. "Always nice to meet a fellow traveller. Is this your first time in the desert?"
"No, I've been before," Link says, lifting a forkful of food to his mouth. The flavours burst over his tongue, rich and earthy with spices.
"I come this way a lot," the man continues. "There's a lot of demand for winter-wings and cold darners, and you get great deals on summer-wings and warm darners here. Plus it's a great place to find electric rhino beetles. I usually swing up to the highlands once I'm done with Kara-Kara; there's rumours that horned colossus beetles breed up there. I've never seen one. But one day I will, I just know it!"
Link's beginning to wonder whether the guy actually needs to breathe when he stops and inhales deeply.
"I'm Beedle, by the way! Hyrule's foremost trader of insects, arachnids, and other invertebrates, at your service. I especially love beetles though, as you might be able to tell."
"I had a hunch," Link replies, laughter lurking just under the surface of his words.
"Anyway, that's me - but what about you? What's your name, stranger? What brings you over this way?"
"Ravio," Link replies, sticking with their agreed cover for lack of any better ideas. "I'm a trader too."
"Oh, that's nice," Beedle says with a broad, genuine grin. "Maybe we'll see each other around!"
Link smiles and nods at Beedle as he leaves, and resolves to set off with first light to reduce the odds of running into him again on the road. Even if Beedle is legit, the Yiga threat hovering over Link makes it too risky to travel with anyone else right now.
With Epona left safely in the caravanserai's more sheltered stables, it takes Link from pre-dawn until late afternoon to reach Kara Kara. The bazaar sprawls out around its lush oasis exactly as Link remembers; a breath of fresh, vibrant air amid the arid desert. It's still full of people bustling around stalls laden with jewel-bright silks, sticky dates and heaped baskets of nuts. The sellers still call their wares across the bazaar, shouting cheerfully over each other to entice potential customers. They won't pack up until late into the evening. The air is still heady with spices and the tang of clean water.
He can hear Zelda in his head as he weaves through the crowds, telling him across a century that the water here is from the same aquifer which feeds the Walled City some fifty miles away. The more he remembers, the more he feels her absence like a physical ache. He keeps catching flashes of movement in the corner of his eye, expecting to see her tentative smile when he turns. Each time he swallows down his disappointment and reminds himself to stay focused.
He stops at one stall selling dates, apparently being manned by a small Gerudo girl in the absence of any adults. He hands over some rupees and she wraps some up for him in a paper bag, smiling brightly.
He dredges up his rusty Gerudo. ""Many thanks, little one.""
The girl giggles. "You talk like my grand-mama," she says in flawless Hylian.
"Oh! You speak Hylian?"
"Everyone here knows Hylian, don't you know anything? Aren't you a Hylian? Why're you surprised at other people speaking Hylian then? That's silly."
Link opens his mouth to respond, but the girl is still talking - this is becoming a theme. "My best friend's a Hylian, his name is Padrick and he's eight and he lives next door with his mum and dad and they're both Hylians too. And his sister, but she's still just a baby so she can't play with us yet."
He looks around again, paying more attention this time. There are more Hylians here than he would have expected, mingling easily with the locals in a way that doesn't suggest tourists.
"Refugees came all the way here?" he asks. He means it rhetorically, but the girl frowns up at him.
"Few-gees?"
"Refugees. People feeling from the Calamity."
"Oh. I dunno," the girl says doubtfully. "That was a loooong time ago. You could ask my auntie, she's an arcalologist so her job is knowing stuff about long long... long long long ago."
Link is feeling older by the second. "Sure, I'll do that. Thanks for the dates."
"Have a good day, mister! Come again!"
He browses the other stalls, picking up bits and pieces (desert-suitable clothing, loose and breathable. More sunblock salve, more cooling potions, more arrows) and idly popping dates in his mouth from time to time. He's pretty much done shopping when he finally realises that the flashes of movement that keep catching his attention aren't purely a figment of his imagination. There are two travellers tailing him, hoods pulled up over their faces as they feign interest in the goods nearby. His pulse kicks up, and he starts to work his way out of the bazaar. He doesn't want them to spring their ambush in the middle of the crowds; if these are Yiga, he'll be the only one hindered by trying to avoid collateral damage to any bystanders.
He's starting to get to the thinned-out edge of the stalls now, where his shadows' thin veneer of 'interested shoppers' won't hold any more. He hurries his steps, and by the time they reach the last stall he's running, legs pumping as he flies over the loose sandy ground. There are shouts from behind him but he doesn't stop, doesn't look around. Eventually there's a soft, dual pop in the air just behind him, as the Yiga close the distance with their teleporters. He swings around, drawing his sword, feet in a wide and ready stance.
They rush him, two to one, but he's focused as he weaves between their attacks. It's as if time has solidified around him like tar; their moves are sluggish and telegraphed. He pivots down to one knee to send a vicious slash at the calves of one, and is rewarded with a hiss of pain and blood streaking his blade. The Yiga teleports away again. Link's already channelling his momentum into a whirling uppercut to the one that thinks it can sneak up on him. It leaps out of range, and Link's back on his feet, scanning for them.
Fighting Yiga is like dancing with the wind; like trying to nail down the sea. He can't get any solid hits in succession; they blip in and out, harrying him like mosquitoes. He's a whirlwind of steel as he blocks their blows, his entire existence narrowed down to this moment, this parry, this thrust. The one he clipped - he thinks it's probably a man behind the mask - is limping, and he focuses his efforts on cutting down their numbers advantage. He swipes a hand down the slate to call forth a bomb, then rushes to make the Yiga jump backwards. He throws the bomb, detonating it as the Yiga pops back into existence and sending him flying.
One down; one to go. The other, a woman, is warier now, darting in and out the moment his sword gets anywhere near her. He forces himself back into that trance-like focus, seeing the patterns of movement to predict - there! - he stabs down as she rushes in, skewering her through the thigh. She blinks out, reappearing behind him. He whirls, but she's gone again, hobbling over the sand and jumping as often as the belt will let her. Link sheaths his sword and pulls out his bow. He lines up a shot, and when the Yiga appears at the top of a dune, he sends an electric arrow straight through her neck. She drops, a web of sparks dancing across her shoulders.
He wanders over to the man, rolling him over with a nudge of his boot. The Yiga's legs are mangled beyond recognition, and when Link pulls the mask off a trickle of blood is smeared down from the corner of his mouth. He's just a boy, really - younger even than Link himself, clearly only just grown into the length of his legs and the width of his shoulders. Link grimaces. He's not sure what's worse - that the Yiga leadership would send someone so young on a mission like this, or that the kid might have been fanatical enough to volunteer. They probably weren't really expecting to kill him, if two grunts in broad daylight is all they sent. Were these lookouts who got cocky, and thought they'd try get the glory from taking out the Hylian Champion? He resolves to check in with the others sooner rather than later.
Link approaches the guards on the exit as he arrives back at Kara-Kara. They look at him from under their helmets with the expression of guards everywhere, i.e. bored, dismissive, and not getting paid enough to stand here in this oppressive heat for hours on end without seeing a single scrap of action.
Given his previous conversation they probably speak Hylian, but he wants to be sure they'll take him seriously. Here's hoping his Gerudo is still up to the task.
""Good afternoon,"" he calls out with a wave.
The left-hand of the pair at least looks mildly interested now. ""Good afternoon, little voe. Not many Hylians speak Gerudo. Where did you learn?""
Link hesitates; neither 'in the army' nor 'from Urbosa', both of which are true to a certain degree, are usable answers. ""A friend,"" he says after a moment. ""May Din watch over her.""
""Din watch her,"" the two echo back to him with inclined heads.
""Did you want something?"" one asks once they've finished their moment of respect for the dead.
""I have an incident to report. I was attacked by Yiga, two clicks to the West. The two assailants are dead but there may be more in the area."" At least his more military-focused vocabulary is coming in handy.
""Yiga, here?"" the guards look to one another, concerned expressions on their faces.
One says ""Thank you for letting us know, we'll make sure our superiors hear of it.""
The other adds, ""And we'll ensure someone is sent to deal with the bodies.""
""Good,"" Link says. ""What news of the area?""
""Not much,"" the one on the left drawls, leaning on her spear. ""Nothing ever happens here.""
""Apart from Yiga attacks,"" the other one snorts at her.
""Apart from that,"" the first allows with an eye roll. ""We didn't even get to fight them, where's the fun in that?""
""There is some news. The Walled City is closed for visitors,"" the other says, ignoring her. ""Though of course you couldn't enter regardless.""
That's news to Link - the first part, that is, not the second. ""Why is the City closed?"" he asks.
She shrugs. ""No idea. Nobody tells us anything. Is there anything else you need?""
Link shakes his head. ""No. Many thanks.""
""Have a good day!"" they call after him as he makes his way back into the market.
He ponders his next move as he eats grilled vegetable skewers fresh from the market stalls. Gerudo City being closed to visitors seems... ominous, in the context of increased Yiga activity and Ganon's rousing of two of the Divine Beasts. The city is two days' journey away on foot - or one extremely long day on a sand seal, if you push it. He could go scout about, see what's happening. He can head to the mountains from the city just as easily as from Kara-Kara, after all.
Resolved, he fires off a message to Dorian and the others updating them on his plans, then heads for the sand seal stables. The Gerudo run trips to the city setting off twice a day, for tourists and traders, but those are suspended with the city closed. They also have sand seals for hire if you know how to handle one, though. Link honestly can't remember whether he's ever sand-surfed behind a seal before. He's hoping that he has, and also that it's like riding a horse - i.e. mostly muscle memory - when he hands over the rupees to hire one.
The attendant - who appears to be about the same age as Link but without the long nap - hooks him up with a surly-looking beast and a battered-looking sled, and hands over the reins. "You know how?" she asks in heavily-accented Hylian, peering at him sceptically.
"Yes," Link lies.
"Hold on then," she replies. "Mush, girl!"
The sand seal lurches forwards with an angry bark, great flippers digging at the sand. Link is pulled along behind with a jolt of his shoulders. He wobbles precariously before righting himself, letting his knees stay springy on the sled as they leave Kara-Kara behind in the dust.
Notes:
Golden horses, specifically adapted to hot conditions: wiki/Akhal-Teke
Caravanserais ( news/414342/Caravanserais-ancient-roadside-inns) were widespread in arid regions, and seem like a good fit for the Gerudo region. I understand why the same basic tiny stable model is used everywhere in-game, but some diversity in the designs of the inns would really have helped breathe life into Hyrule!