A Link to the Heart Chapter 3
The desert was bitterly cold at night but the stars shone clearer than anywhere else. From a moonless sky they looked down upon the rippling dunes and barren sands, shining upon the empty wastes with brilliant clarity. They shone over the tiny creatures that emerged from under rocks and boulders and the small predators that preyed upon then. They shone upon the forsaken ghost poes and the roaming djinns, who cared nothing save their freedom and they shone upon the ruins of dead races and the rare oases that dotted the vast reaches.
In one such oasis a woman leaned against a crumbling wall, all that remained of a ruined home, and stared into the night. She was tall and dark-skinned, with amber eyes and red hair bound into a long ponytail. Her body was hidden under a voluminous robe, that sheltered her from abrasive sands borne on the bitter winds. Under that covering her limbs were corded with dense muscles and when she moved it was with the bow-legged gait of one who had spent most of her life in the saddle. Her attire was not the fanciful and revealing silks Gerudo wore to impress but the hardened everyday attire they preferred for travel and combat. She did not shade her eyes with glitter or rogue her cheeks and lips as some did, preferring to face the world as she was. She had no interest in gaudy decoration, save for five gold stud piercings in her right ear, symbols of the nominated clan leader. As if that wasn't enough to get the hostile message across, her chest was bound by tight wadding, to ensure freedom of movement and twin scimitars hung at her hips, stained from frequent use. Her name was Kinesha and she was the leader of her clan, nominated chief of the Padwe tribe of the Gerudo nation.
Behind Kinesha lay an encampment, tents and pavilions dotted around the oasis. Horses were corralled in one corner and in the other a large fire blazed, surrounded by women young and old. Goats and Cuccos grazed on scrawny grass and chained lines of men huddled together against the cold of night, fearful of the guards standing over them. Snores filled the night air, but those who were awake talked and sang and cooked as they willed, given to follow no orders save that of their chief. This was the Padwe's temporary abode, one more stop on their endless wanderings across the desert.
Kinesha had led her people here yet she did not look into the camp, but outwards. The Gerudo were a fractious people, given to passion and anger. They made friends easily, laughing and dancing with open hearts but they were equally quick to take offence and once angered they were all too ready to spill blood. Kinesha had fought as many of her own folk as she had outsiders, leading raids into the camps of other clans as eagerly as she did the fertile lands beyond the great desert. Their goal was usually to steal cattle and prisoners rather than slay everything in sight but blood often was spilled regardless. So all Gerudo kept sentries around their camps. One could never tell when swift riders would sweep out of the dark with whooping yells of fierce joy and flashing scimitars.
The peace of the encampment was split as a scream arose. Long and undulating it was the cry of a woman in terrible pain and fear. Kinesha flinched at the noise and huddled into her robe, not wanting to imagine the agony of the woman. The cry faded but soon returned, another wail of torment and struggle dragged from the lips. Her eyes drifted to a black tent, where teams of women were darting in and out, bearing bloody rags and coming back with sharp needles and stranger instruments. A fool would have taken them for torturers but to Kinesha they were worse, midwives, attending a difficult labour. The very idea made her shudder.
Kinesha's distaste was mercifully interrupted by a soft tread behind her. She looked about in alarm but eased when she saw Gurd approaching. The woman was an old friend, her companion through raids and peace, sunny days and sandstorm alike. Gurd was a fierce soul but she was quick to laugh, with dark eyes and a broad face that broke easily into a grin. She bore a glaive at her side and her calloused hands showed she knew how to use it. Gurd had been at Kinesha's side for every step of her ascension to leadership and there was none she trusted more.
Kinesha relaxed as she said, "Nice of you to join me."
Gurd settled in beside her leader, "No one should be alone on a night like this."
Kinesha glanced at the dark tent and asked, "Any news on Maury?"
Gurd sighed, "It is a long and difficult labour, the wise women worry it may be a boy."
Kinesha's heart trembled at the news, "Surely not! She made to nine moons, it has to be a girl."
Gurd kicked the sand idly as she muttered, "It's rare but it does happen. Sometimes a boy makes it all the way only to…"
She didn't finish for they both knew what she meant, but neither wanted to say it out loud. Kinesha hastily changed the subject, "Word has come, the Ortiz and Farew clans have answered the call. They ride under the banner of Twinrova."
"Pah," Gurd spat, "Sand Goddess eat the hearts of those black witches. Koume and Kotake, devils in Gerudo clothing."
Kinesha reluctantly said, "We may have no choice but to follow suit."
"Surely not," Gurd hissed, "You always claimed to loathe those ancient hags. We still don't know what they did to the Great Nabooru."
"It no longer matters," Kinesha sighed, "All other clans ride with them and if we refuse their muster then we shall be marked for death. The Padwe cannot stand alone."
"But why do they call for war with Hyrule?" Gurd asked, "We have been at peace for a decade, what's changed?"
Kinesha shrugged, "Only the dust devils know, Twinrova blows the horns of war and the Gerudo ride with bared blades."
Gurd mused, "Maybe... they found Ganondorf?"
Kinesha sneered, "I hope not, he was a mad tyrant, good riddance to him. Twinrova may mourn his passing but I celebrated when I heard the news of his defeat. Would that Nabooru had survived to claim his place."
Gurd shook her head and spat, "What madness has overcome the Gerudo? Why do so many flock to the witches' banner?"
Kinesha was forced to admit, "They claim to have found a way to lift the curse."
There it was, one of them had finally said it. The curse of the Gerudo race, a bane laid on each and every one of them and an ever-present terror. A thousand tales spoke of the curse and no two agreed. Some said it was a hex laid upon their oases by a black god, others that an outcast sorceress had sworn to punish those who had driven her from her home. One tale even claimed the Demon Demise had struck one final blow before being cast down by the gods, striking at the wombs of the Gerudo. So ancient was the curse that none could say which tale was true but the effect endured to this day. No Gerudo could bear a son, save for one man-child every hundred years, all Gerudo were born female.
Kinesha had travelled to other lands and seen how others misunderstood the terrible nature of their affliction. Outsiders assumed that the Gerudo could only conceive females, if only that were true. Nobody understood the Gerudo's pain for they had not seen the bloody miscarriages and stillbirths that blighted them. Outsiders never heard the wails of lament upon awakening to bloodsoaked sheets and tears shed over empty swaddling baskets. They never saw the bundles carried away in the dead of night, so small, so heartbreakingly small. Every Gerudo prayed to the Sand Goddess to grant them a daughter, for the alternative was too painful to consider. Every leader who had risen to unite the fractious Gerudo clans had sworn to find a way to end the curse, though none had ever succeeded.
Gurd drew in a slow breath and deflected, "Have you looked upon our latest prisoners? There are some fine specimens among them."
"I'm not interested," Kinesha spat in disgust.
Gurd eyed her curiously and enquired," Have you… not partaken of our prisoners?"
Kinesha growled, "I have no use for them save as beasts of burden."
Gurd smiled broadly, "They do have some other uses."
Kinesha snapped, "Not for me. I ride and I fight and I take what I want, when I want. The rest of you may indulge yourselves but someone needs to keep a clear head and an eye on tomorrow."
Gurd frowned as she mused, "Do you hate menfolk or is it that you're afraid? Afraid of the curse... afraid that if you try to have a child you will suffer as so many have."
Kinesha merely looked to the horizon and said, "I don't want to talk about it."
Gurd however persisted, "You can't let fear hold you back, you might be blessed. Remember the words of the wise women, 'If you fear death then you shall never truly live'."
"I said to speak not," Kinesha hissed.
But Gurd pressed, "I know you're not a maiden, I've seen you ride out with our sisters for a night and not come back till morning."
Kinesha turned to face her friend and snapped, "I said leave it! I don't need you telling me to have a baby. My life is my own and my body is mine. You don't get to decide what I do, nor does the clan. If I say I don't want to…"
Suddenly another wail cut through the night, this one drawn out and prolonged. Both friends stopped speaking and turned to look as the cry faded. Long moments passed then another wail arose but this one was different. Not a scream of life but of loss, the awful torment of grief and sorrow torn from the lips of one who had struggled so hard. The camp fell quiet as the mournful cry carried through the night and all knew what it meant without having to be told.
Gurd's face fell as she breathed, "By the Sand Goddess, no."
"Praying to Goddesses won't help," Kinesha snarled bitterly, "The gods don't care enough to help anybody."
As they watched a black-robed crone slipped out of the tent, carrying a small bundle in her arms. Nobody looked at her as scurried away into the night, taking the tiny scrap of cold flesh where none would see. It would be dumped for the desert scavengers to pick over, leaving no trace behind, save for an empty basket and the tears of a bereft mother. Kinesha's heart churned with horror at the knowledge such a fate could be hers and she redoubled her vow never to risk experiencing such loss. No matter what, she would not be reduced to a wailing wretch, even if she had to be alone forever. She had her horses and the horizon and her people. She would be the leader, that would suffice. It was a bold promise but she only half believed it. If there was a way to be free of this affliction, any way, she knew she would take it.
From the tent came a series of sobs and coughing moans. The flaps parted and an older woman stepped quietly out, closing the tent behind her so none could pry into this private sorrow. She marched over to Kinesha, who bowed slightly. The old woman was worn and made craggy-faced by a lifetime spent among the sands, yet her eyes were sharp and her hands sure under her long black robe. This was Mahee, wise woman and shaman of the clan and all bowed to her wisdom, even the nominated leader.
Gurd spoke first, "Was it…"
"The curse strikes again," Mahee told them with a grave voice.
"Nine moons," Gurd lamented, "Maury struggled for nine moons only to lose it all."
Kinesha's hands tightened into fists as she growled, "No more, I will suffer this no more."
Gurd blinked in surprise and said, "What do you mean?"
Kinesha snarled, "How many more miscarriages must we endure, how many stillbirths? I say no more: we cannot live like this. Spread the word, in the morning we ride for the Spirit Temple and pledge ourselves to Twinrova's banner."
Mahee frowned as she cautioned, "Be wary, those two were already ancient when I was only a slip of a girl and they have only grown more devious since. They are not to be trusted."
"Trustworthy or not they claim to know how to end the curse. I don't care what it takes, we will find this blessing and claim it for ourselves," Kinesha declared.
Mahee's eyes narrowed, "Be sure of your course, words spoken in anger cannot be easily taken back."
But Kinesha lifted her head and proclaimed, "We shall ride for the sake of all those we have lost, for all those who shed salt tears in the night. I do not know where our road will take us but I swear for our people's sake we will find a way to end this terrible curse. And we will suffer no one to stand in our way."
