Something You Stole

by ChronicallyEclectic

Link's adventures through the Twilight realm had taught him to expect the unexpected. Unfortunately even that didn't prepare him for the shock of being accused of apparently stealing one of the Princess's most precious possessions! What did he steal? He doesn't know and she wont say. Romance/Drama/Humour. Cover image by Janus3003 on Deviantart

16. Arrows and Narrow Escapes

A.N: Greetings, my fabulous audience! I must apologise for the particularly long delay. Then again this is a particularly long chapter. I had heard that writing coherent and compelling action was one of the greatest challenges any author or, in my case, "author" could every face. Turns out they weren't wrong. This chapter has gone through several partial rewrites. I just hope it entertains. As always feel free to leave a review and I appreciate your support.

P.S Butts exist! I did not create butts for the purpose of dirty jokes! There are real historic butts… though not quite like mine!

P.P.S As you haven't read the chapter yet the previous comment may sound stupid… which indeed it is, but there's a context to that stupidity!

P.P.P.S What are you doing still reading my ramblings? Move on to the story!

Chapter 15 – Arrows and Narrow Escapes

Hyrule barracks training yard – 182 days A.G

The stench of sweat assaulted his nostrils. Steel, warmed in the heat of a late spring sun, grazed his neck. All this before the fight had even started. Blasted helmet!

The reason for his uncharacteristic decision to don the infernal headgear loomed before him like a great oak, but considerably less friendly. Of all the opponents among the ranks of the grand army of Hyrule, here was the first to actually produce genuine nerves from him, being the only other person to have bested Ashei.

The opponent was none other than Sir Eddengrin Halshaw, son of Lord Halshaw, though their appearances would seem to contradict that. Standing almost three feet taller than his fathers or Link, with his width entirely comprised of muscle and full plate armour, the knight towered above most of the spectators congregated expectantly round the flat and featureless sparring ring. His imposing stature was matched by his visage, possessing a cold, calculating iron gaze, thin lipped sneer and cheek bones so sharp they could be classed as weapons in their own right. Slicked down jet-black hair adorned his crown while heavily manicured whiskers of the same colour formed a canopy over his top lip. All these features were boldly displayed as he scoffed dismissively at his squire's offer of a helmet. After all, it wasn't likely his dome was in any danger of a strike from Link, the top of the diminutive hero's head barely reaching his chest height. His arrogant dismissal of a helmet certainly fit with his nickname among the soldiers of "Arsin' Cocksure", a clear demonstration of the general opinion of the man within the ranks, despite his record as the only undefeated fighter other than Link. If the rumours about Halshaw junior were true, the one thing he'd inherited from his father was an equally despicable disposition.

Link, for all his flaws, wasn't one for reckless bravado and, hearing what had happened to some of Cocksure's previous competition, had opted for at least some basic protection with his mail laced tunic, helmet and not forgetting a little extra reinforcement round the groin region. Apparently not all who faced the knight for some "friendly" sparring were capable of continuing their army service once he'd finished with them and to call THEIR sparring match anything approaching friendly would be either madness and deception of the highest order.

The lord's son had burst into the barracks early yesterday afternoon, having just returned that morning from some trip to the Goron province, stormed up to him as he finished his beef stew and demanded a sparring match later that day. Link, had however, declined, informing Sir Halshaw he had guard duty. The petulant man had then viciously chucked one of his gauntlets in the last of the hero's stew, splashing gravy everywhere, rambled off something about a Holmgang, stating the place and time, before retrieving the gravy stained gauntlet and lumbering away. It was fair to say the exchange had caused quite a stir in the mess. A brief discussion with Borri and some of the officers enlightened him to the fact a Holmgang was apparently some sort of duel, though no one knew any specifics. Nevertheless, he wasn't about to be intimidated by some stuck up prick who stained one of his favourite tunics so, despite a lack of knowledge of his opponent or details of the duel itself, he'd accepted the challenge.

Now he found himself none the wiser, as he and his mountain of an opponent slowly circled each other, waiting for the sun to sneak behind the tower on the western corner of the yard and allow them to start. The high inner wall of the castle loomed behind him, while to Halshaw's rear the complex of buildings that made up the barracks hunkered down beneath the outer wall, beyond which he could just about hear the sloshing sound of water in the moat, moving in a stiff breeze. On the Horizon he caught a glimpse, just visible over the mountains, of heavy storm clouds building as the breeze dragged them in the castle's direction. He just hoped it wasn't an omen of his fate in the coming fight.

He gave a few quick flourishes to get his sword arm warmed up and his opponent did the same, though with considerably more flair and speed, a clear attempt at intimidation and showing off. This display was accompanied by several girlish gasps from the castle balcony two stories up, which overlooked the barracks. It would seem, for all the low opinions from the soldiers, Halshaw junior made up for it with his popularity with the ladies, not that he showed any sign of acknowledgement of his fans, instead glaring daggers at the hero.

For all the razor-sharp intensity of Halshaw's gaze, Link doubted that he was gaining anything from such fixated observance, unlike his own survey which identified a number of tactical strengths and weaknesses of his hulking opponent. The most obvious among these was of course the man's tremendous height and reach, which, with the dulled practice bastard sword he was wielding, was likely twice the distance of Link's own. To others this considerable advantage would see them quaking in their boots or fleeing, but for the hero of twilight it was simply an extra challenge, one that he had a fair bit of experience overcoming, since most of his enemies outdid him in the size department. To his eternal shame he couldn't deny it was rather easy to outdo him in that regard.

Regardless of such shortcomings, he knew his capabilities and an oversized, constipated peacock armed with a bastard sword was well within his, particularly as his observations had revealed a couple of possible weaknesses to exploit. The knight's impressive stature, while allowing for greater reach, had the knock-on effect of making traversal of the battlefield far more cumbersome, exacerbated by his full plate armour… well almost full. There were two parts of his body with considerably less armour; his head and rather bizarrely… his gonads. The mail vest and trousers covering them, while sufficient to negate the risk of lacerations would offer little protection against the force of even a moderate impact. Tactically it made no sense, not that Link would ever consider going for such a cheap and dishonourable strike.

The armour would inevitably pose an issue, however he reckoned there were more than enough gaps and joins in it to gift him some winning blows… assuming that this Holmgang thing was won in the same manner as any traditional sparring match. Link broke their exchange of wordless eyeballing to casually ask "So how does one win this Holmgang?"

"Oh, you have no need to know that. All you need concern yourself with is the pain and humiliation of your inevitable defeat." Came Sir Halshaw's ominous reply, voice dark and thick as tar.

"I'll keep that in mind" quipped the hero, maintaining a flippant manner, belying his intense focus as he continued to dissect his opponent, occasional switching to check the sun's progress into obscurity which would herald the start of the fight. It wouldn't be long now.

Disappointingly, neither the wait, nor his laidback attitude seemed to roil the knight as he'd hoped. It appeared the man possessed a modicum of patience. Also worth noting was the precision of his flourishes, the signs of a highly accomplished swordsman… or a practiced show-off. He clearly didn't earn his unbroken record through strength and size alone. Accomplished or not, Halshaw would have issue with striking low, lest he risk driving his blade into the dust and gravel, a fact that Link could use to his advantage when dodging.

As the shadows finally crept up to meet him at the far end of the ring, he felt a small jolt as his body anticipated the imminent conflict. His opponent ceased his flourishes to calmly present the tip of his blade to Link across the battleground, where he held it pointing at the hero's head as they continued to circle.

Let the fight commence…

Any second now…

They kept circling and Halshaw, with arm outstretched, still presenting the tip his blade as if in accusation, showed no sign of making an advance on his position. Link held on course round the circumference of the dusty ring. If the knight was going to stain his tunic and challenge him to a duel without even clarifying the rules, the least he could do was make the first move. Plus, he wanted to test the man's patience.

The revolutions built up; once, twice, thrice and they were still no closer to clashing blades. Yawns and frustrated mutters broke out among the expectant audience of soldiers, servants and the ladies of Sir Halshaw's fan club, yet Link continued with his mask of careless nonchalance, reading his opponents reactions.

On the fifth go on their tiresome merry-go-round, roughly five horse lengths in radius, he glimpsed the first signs of a crack in the Knights composure as a muscle in the giant's eyelid began to twitch erratically. On the sixth Halshaw snorted like an angry bulldog who was just served vegetables for dinner, having been promised steak and rib. "What's the matter. Scared to face me Hero!" he spat, trying to hide his frustration behind bravado.

"Hey, you're the one who invited me here and you haven't even told me the rules. What kind of host are you."

"Ah yes, the classic wit of the illiterate commoner."

"Not illiterate, just uneducated." Came Link's deadpan riposte.

"Well I'll be sure to educate you on any differences from your normal sparring when it becomes necessary…" The knight sneered with fake obsequiousness which morphed into a snarl "… before I educate you on your place as a hedge-born cumberworld!"

"Hedge-born cumberworld? That's a new one" Link thought wryly. He would have considered asking for a translation, but decided against it as his opponent finally started to close the distance, advancing slowly and purposefully on him, sword still directed at his head. He, meanwhile, assumed a loose defence stance, letting the knight come to him, knowing he would be better served by dodging round the giants strikes than blocking. Not that he expected to avoid every blow, but if he spent all his energy deflecting, he'd never even get in range to strike, such was Halshaw's advantage of reach.

Link took two steps in just as the knight's sword was about to coming into attacking distance, prompting a quick thrust, easily avoided with a causal skip backwards. His opponent advanced again and the move was repeated with the same result.

Halshaw switched his guard to a lower position, holding the sword at waist height with both hands, still aiming the tip for Link's cranium. He clearly realised that the hero wasn't dumb enough to engage in a fight when so far out of range, so he was now inviting the hero to approach, with a more restricted guard position.

Link, naturally being polite and noble as he was, obliged such a "thoughtful" gesture and the fight began in earnest. The knight lunged in with a thrust at his stomach, swiftly followed by trio of clinically performed swipes, one at each arm, with the last being an upper cut towards the hero's chin. Link blocked the first three with minor effort, before dancing out of range of the forth, skipping with almost comical breeziness into the centre of the ring, hiding his intense focus. That opening volley was proof enough that Sir Halshaw, while an obnoxious, contemptable snob like his father, was not to be taken lightly as a swordsman.

As he stood, spinning his blade, waiting for his opponent, the crowd started to awaken from their bored stupor to celebrate the battles first flurry. The next exchange followed similar to the last with three clangs of sword against sword rising above the hubbub of the spectators. This time, however, Link tried an offensive jab into the small crevice opened in the knee as Halshaw bent to deliver his forth strike. Unfortunately, all it found was shining steel, and he paid with a glancing blow to the arm. It was only his superior agility the saved him from a painful bruising as he retreated once more.

He needed to score some good strikes in the hopes of irritating his opponent into becoming sloppy. He retreated as far as he could, prompting a yell from the knight. "Running like a coward wont help you. Simply exposes you're true character, so called hero!"

Running wasn't his plan. He simply needed sufficient space for the charge. Halshaw's eyes gleamed in anticipation and he dropped his guard, baiting the hero to try it, knowing what was to come… or so his overconfidence led him to believe.

Like a shot from a cannon, Link raced towards the arrogant noble, subtly telegraphing a high thrust, which Halshaw, being an experienced swordsman easily spotted. Just as he got in range, however, Link let his momentum on the loose gravel take his feet from under him and he slide beneath his opponent's carefully timed swing. Attack dodged, he delivered a fervent riposte into the noble's less armoured derriere. It was not enough to cause any serious damage, as they were both wielding dull practice swords, but it could certainly be a pain in the arse.

Jumping to his feet, he deftly sidestepped a rather less co-ordinated swipe from the angry knight who whirled round to face him, visage briefly stamped with rage, only to be contained by a sickeningly odious sneer. "Well done, hero. You've just exposed yourself as the thorn in the backside of decent society you truly are."

"Hey, I just struck a blow on the source of your intellect. The least you could do is give me some credit." His quip brought a smattering of sniggers from the soldiers watching, while Sir Halshaw's small but passionate fan club exchanged confused murmurs. Clearly, if they lacked the basic intelligence to recognise their idol was an arrogant ignorant ignoramus then that joke was beyond them. Although to be fair, the knight did possess the oh so desired trio of traits women apparently went crazy for; tall, dark and handsome. It could simply be exposure to these three magic ingredients that drove them to leave their brains in their closets.

Halshaw got the joke but he wasn't laughing. "First you utterly humiliate my father and try to sully my family name and now you dare to mock my intelligence. Mark my words, you will learn your place and you will suffer for it!"

This response actually surprised the hero. He'd assumed Halshaw junior simply possessed the same automatic hatred of him that his father had shown. He certainly hadn't expected the Ordon debacle to still be dogging him months on. He frantically backpedalled, trying to get out of range to form an eloquent defence to the accusation, without having to fend off a barrage of increasingly vicious blows "You're pinning that on me?!" He exclaimed incredulously "Your father was the one trying to spread scandalous lies about me and the princess. All the humiliation he brought to your family was of his own making!"

The furious knight broke off his pursuit, letting forth a bitter derisive laugh. "Ah yes. You, so proclaimed hero, and our illustrious royal highness happened, by pure coincidence, to meet at your home, a peasant's shack built into a tree as my father described it, for what? a midnight chat?!... perhaps some tea and cakes?!… or was it something else on the menu?!" Link glowered at the obvious insinuation, which dripped with snide contempt from Halshaw's lips as he continued ranting, beginning to play to the crowd as though this was all some grand theatre. Just like his father. "Now I don't begrudge her highness a little diversion to entertain herself on occasion, even if I question her choice of… company… After all there's more than enough of that to go around among the nobles. What I cannot abide is our "precious" princess dragging my family's reputation through the mud simply to maintain her image of pristine purity! A farcical notion perpetuated by poets and naive romantics who know nothing of the real world or the hearts of women. She may be royalty but she is no paragon of innocence and my family shouldn't have to suffer to protect that lie!"

From his face, the noble clearly expected praise or agreement with his performance, but as a chorus of boos rose up from the ranks of the soldiers, his countenance quickly turned from righteous indignation to contempt. Had he made such a speech when Link had just arrived he may have received some small level of support. His timing however, was atrociously poor, as several recent political victories by the princess, along with a couple of visits to the barracks in an effort to boost both moral and her image, had succeeded beyond expectations, transforming the men's general consensus of her from apathy to admiration.

Link, for his part, had tried to remove as many of the sticks up his arse as possible, which worked wonders for his popularity and he had, by extension, sung the princess's praises too. By comparison, Halshaw had only ever been respected due to fighting prowess and was already widely disliked. With the hero's arrival and the public humiliation of his father, witnessed by, not one, but two regiments, what little respect remaining among the ranks vanished. The obnoxious noble would not receive any sympathy here.

Unleashing an angry bellow, Halshaw charged Link again. The hero, still taking in the full context of his indignant and misguided appeal, had little time to react to his sudden attack. The knight brought all his weight and muscles to bare upon his adversary in a mighty downward strike capable of breaking most swords, or indeed people, in half. As Link braced himself to block the brutal hit, the thought crossed his mind that he may soon be fighting armed with naught but his fists and a splitting headache. Fortunately, both his muscles and the old practice arming sword displayed remarkable integrity in the face of such assault. The blades slid into the bind, crossguards locked together. They both tried to twist them round for a possible strike, but to no avail.

As they continued to struggle, Halshaw leaned in menacingly before delivering his first decisive blow… with a whisper "They may boo, but I know the truth and so do you. I have but one question. Just how much of a dirty little whore is she?!"

The speech had been little more than a minor annoyance from a posturing prick but that whisper set his blood boiling. How dare he! HOW DARE…

Crack!

His despicable adversary, taking advantage of his brief moment of outraged inaction, gave a forceful twist of his sword and drove the crossguard into Link's nose. Blood spattered forth staining both his tunic and the crossguard.

Link staggered back, dazed by the impact and wincing from the pain. Well, there went his sense of smell for the next week! Had this been a normal sparring match or tournament, it would have been called off and Halshaw would have been disqualified. This, however, was a Holmgang, whatever that was? He cursed his foolishness in accepting, whether it be out of pride or the lure of a challenge. In his ignorant gullibility he had assumed the rules would be very similar or that his opponent, no matter how despicable, would still do the basic courtesy of explaining them. In doing so he'd effectively handed complete control over of proceedings to his opponent.

He managed, barely, to recover in time to intercept another blow aimed squarely at his head, beating it away wildly. Still reeling from the hit he failed to offer a counterattack or return to a proper guard position. His opponent, still chuckling from his previous hit, exploited the opening with a heavy swing into his left arm. Even through the tunic and a layer of chainmail the blow still stung.

As the initial shock and pain dissipated, an almost animalistic rage took over. To his rational mind's shame, he found himself baring his teeth and growling at Halshaw. In response the knight laughed and obnoxious taunted him, oblivious to the angry haze descending over the hero's senses. "Pain", "ill-bred" and "dog" were the only words that penetrated the fog, purely through lip reading, as all he could hear, reverberating round his head like heavy raindrops in a cave, was the man's vile whisper "Dirty… Little… Whore…" A burning hunger for retribution threatened to consume his conscious thoughts, and he found himself literally seeing red.

Halshaw's laughter faltered as he saw the look in Link's eyes and for the first time in the battle, he bore a trace of genuine trepidation as he formed a tense defensive stance, without the usual ulterior motive of baiting the hero. No, the man was obviously simply preparing for the inevitable onslaught that was to come. Even Link almost feared the capabilities of this beast inside him, as he struggled to reign it in.

Without second thought Link charged in to engage Halshaw head on, a foolish strategy under normal circumstances, given the knights far superior reach. He barrelled in regardless, imbued with almost inhuman strength and spurred on by the need to sate this lust for vengeance, lest it grow too powerful to contain. What followed was a whirlwind of blades that even the two combatants failed to fully comprehend, operating purely on instinct and muscle memory as the swords clanged and clattered in a discordant chorus of chaos.

Halshaw tried valiantly to keep the force of nature that was the hero of Twilight at bay, but with every scraping, screeching clash of metal on metal, Link shaved more inches off the man's range advantage, drawing ever closer to striking distance. The undeniable sense of satisfaction at seeing his opponents increasingly wide-eyed desperation, along with the stunned awe of some of the spectators, helped to mollify the raging beast. To truly pacify it though, only one thing would suffice, namely thoroughly thrashing the arrogant bastard.

As much as he was capable of maintaining this war of attrition, the mellowing of the "spirit of vengeance" allowed Link the ability to focus more tactically. He'd gotten in range as a result of its brute strength, but now was the time to use what his most infamous attribute, his agility to finally beat his foe. He watched for an opening, all the while keeping the pressure on the knight, who, despite a distressed expression, was demonstrating remarkable resilience. Nothing could last forever though and they'd probably already broken the record for longest continuous exchange in the history of duelling. He had an epiphany… and eased off.

It worked.

Halshaw, either out of desperation or impatience, made a grave misjudgement and took the bait. Link watched as the knight, holding a high guard pulled back slightly to give more momentum to the following formidable thrust at his chest. It would have been guaranteed to drive the hero back… had he still been there.

By the time the long blade commenced its strike, Link was already round it and heading for his target, the now exposed armpit behind it. He didn't hold back as, gripping his blade with his free hand for greater precision, he jabbed his blunt sword into the gap in the armour. Halshaw hissed in pain and desperately tried to adjust. It proved in vain as a forceful swing to the back of the knee sent the knight staggering forwards, allowing a final humiliating blow… another stab into his backside.

Applause erupted from the crowd, as the dust settled and he stepped back to admire his handiwork. The fight was over. Time to take stock and, for what it was worth, bask in the glory. Shuffling dresses from the balcony above informed him that Halshaw's fan club were disbanding. He let out a sigh.

The sight of his giant armour-clad foe tumbling to all fours, bookended by a humiliating blade to the backside, sated the hungry vengeful animal within, which sloped off lethargically back to its cave for a nap. Reason no longer competing for space with instinct, he could finally turn his attention to the matter of its existence and purpose. Where had it come from and why did it choose to appear then? The direct answer should have been obvious. He was in danger, in pain and had just been a victim of foul play. Surely that would be reason enough. The trouble was, had that been the case, he would already be acquainted with the full force of the beast. No, the evidence all pointed to…

Carried on the breeze, a faint rumble of the still distant storm called Link from his ponderings. He sheathed his sword and turned his gaze to the brooding black clouds looming on the horizon, baring the promise of spectacular yet water logged light show. As damaging and dangerous as they could potentially be, storms stirred far more fascination than fear for him. He pulled a handkerchief from a pocket of his tunic and mopped his sweat soaked brow. He couldn't wait to get this blasted helmet off.

The crowd began to close in to congratulate the hero when a roar from Sir Halshaw, now standing again, stopped them in their tracks. "You think this is over! This is my Holmgang and I will be the one to decide when it ends."

"Oh, give it a rest. I won that fight fair and square!" Link snapped in exasperation, crossing his arms and scowling at the pest. Seriously, was Halshaw a man or a reoccurring rash in human form?

"This isn't about winning. This is about correcting the injustices carried out against me and my family!" He snarled, waving his blade to accent his indignation. "And don't think I didn't notice what happened. You talk of winning fair and square, yet you clearly use some spell to enhance your strength. No one possess that kind of raw power, especially not a little runt like you…"

With the knight's rant stirring the hornet's nest, creating a growing buzz of booing and jeering, one of the captains finally stepped in, in an attempt to curtail the situation. "That's enough Sir Halshaw! Legate Link has beaten you in combat, in spite of your illegal strike…"

"Ah Captain, have you finally grown some balls or has my superior station slipped your memory! What would my father think of such disrespect and insubordination? Do not test my patience or you may soon hear from the general about an imminent court martial!"

Link watched in mild consternation as the Captain cowed under Halshaw's scornful address, even having witnessed the man on all fours, beaten by a man half his size, not five minutes ago. Was it fear of the man himself or his father's influence? He knew that, for whatever unfathomable reason, Lord Halshaw was an honorary general but he'd assumed it to be a purely ceremonial position. If, however, the "noble Lord" possess the power to promote, demote or discharge high ranking officers on a whim, how much power did Halshaw senior possess? Indeed, more to the point, how had HE, apparently the Lord's greatest nemesis, not been discharged from his position within a week of his arrival? The idea that an individual member of the court could wield such influence over Hyrule's military seemed highly disturbing.

"As for you!…" Sir Halshaw turned his attention back to Link. "all your small victory has achieved is to prove that like most born on a farm, you bare more relation to beast than to man, which explains your lack of honour or moral fibre. No wonder you do not even bat an eye at my family's plight, the direct result of you and her royal highness's scurrilous accusations."

"Your father was the only one making scurrilous accusations!" Link's scowl deepened

"Hmhm. Of course, I don't expect a deceitful cretin such as you to confess freely, which is why I intend to beat it out of you! Fortunately, as this is my Holmgang and I am the injured party, I am entitled, by tradition, to some assistance to counter your dishonourable tactics." He gave a subtle nod, directed over Link's shoulder.

Keen hearing picked up shifting gravel and rattling metal approaching from the rear. Link Sidestepped just in time to avoid a swipe to the back from the knight's squire, who'd burst forth from the crowd on his master's signal. The kid, probably no older than fifteen yet already equal in height to the hero, was no slouch as a swordsman either. Clad in a red gamberson and helmet, as opposed to full body armour, he was more vulnerable but also more agile than the giant Lumbering brute that was Sir Halshaw.

Link, realising he now faced foes on two fronts, dashed away from his new adversary, following the outside of the ring as he sought to put as much distance between him and both his opponents as possible. He needed a strategy to end this madness quickly! But how?

Unfortunately, his moment to think was snatched away almost instantly as the squire, unlike his master, appeared to have no qualms against giving chase, and was soon upon him again as he turned to make a stand at the opposite end of the battlefield. Link had just enough time to take in the kid's reckless charge, which left a trailing dust cloud in its wake, before their blades clashed. Link parried a trio of wild, frenetic blows before concluding that he may have been foolishly hasty in crediting the squire's skills. As a forth attack came in, with little consideration of guard, he came to suspect that the young man had made the grave mistake of moving onto advanced techniques without polishing his basics. Bad habits and a penchant for recklessness reduced the squire's threat level from legitimate danger down to an annoyance, one that hopefully wouldn't be in this fight for much longer.

Predicting the youngster's pattern of attack, Link calmly blocked the next two strikes knowing an opening would soon arrive… and it did. The perfect disarming opportunity, just a little more to the right annnnd…

Crap!

A shadow from his left suddenly loomed and Link, picking up the faint swish of a third blade joining the fray, ducked forwards through the gap opened up between squire and master. Knight to the left of him, squire to the right, he refused to be stuck in the middle with those two.

He retreated to the ring's centre and the squire, bold and enthusiastic to impress, Looked to pursue but was caught by the arm by Halshaw, who addressed the boy sternly yet surprisingly fairly. Could it even be possible that he actually respects someone, let alone someone of a lower social standing than himself?! While unable to catch their whole exchange, he caught what he presumed must be the Squire's name, "Degar" or something to that effect, along with enough to piece together their strategy. He stared them down as their attentions locked back onto him.

His two opponents began stalking him, fanning out to attack from the sides. Link, however, wasn't about to give them that chance to prepare. He simply wanted them far enough apart for him to go in for another attempt at disarming Degar. He almost felt bad for picking on the kid but if he was going to have any chance of finishing this fight on top, necessity demanded a one on one match. Even then the question still remained, if Halshaw alone had complete control over how and when this fight ended, how in Hyrule was he supposed to defeat him? The only option available seemed to be rendering the giant unconscious or otherwise unable to continue. The problem was both these options appeared to lead to the same inevitable conclusion, as he highly doubted Halshaw senior would stand for his son being knocked out or crippled, regardless of justification. His only other choice was to surrender to humiliation and supply the man with the fabricated confession he sought. He wasn't about to consider THAT for a second! Unconsciousness or crippling it was then. He'd just see which was more practical when the time came.

Plan settled, Link darted for Degar off to his right, well aware of Halshaw's lumbering footfalls now rushing up from behind to assist his ward. The clock was ticking down fast on his opportunity. Parry high left, strike high right, parry thrust, there's his lazy guard position, time to…

"Damn it" He mentally cursed as he leapt back, narrowly dodging a bone-breaking slash from Halshaw, that upon missing was then converted to swipe at his knees. Put off balance by the attack, Link staggered backwards and would have been caught had the knight's stature not worked in his favour on this occasion. As the hero had predicted, due to the man's immense height combined with an abundance of muscle, low strikes proved hard to control. The blade struck the dirt and gravel with a deceptively dull thud, throwing up a cloud of dust, which provided the perfect chance to escape.

Acknowledging his fortune, Link wondered whether it may be the chance to do more. Using his stagger as set up, he feigned weariness and clumsily performed a tactical retreat. Rather than presenting his blade to his opponents, he spun on his heel and stumbled away, presenting his unguarded back. The inexperienced Squire, clearly desperate to prove himself, found that bait all but irresistible. Before Halshaw could even raise his weapon, swung with such force it had imbedded itself in the sandy soil below, Link heard the hard crunch of Degar vaulting over the obstruction and chasing after him.

Timing for the next move was critical. It was a risky and complex manoeuvre, so complex in fact that he'd never even tried it before, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Using the swish of Degar's blade as his cue, Link employed a flourish to parry the incoming blow to his exposed back, using the momentum of the flourish itself to assist in spinning him round into an immediate counterattack. The blade didn't hit the squire but it achieved the desired effect… he flinched.

Making the elementary mistake of swatting at the blade itself, Degar opened himself up. Seizing the opportunity, Link, with a simple flick of the wrist, diverted the direction of his attack to give a solid thump on the squire's helmet, not enough to seriously hurt, but enough to temporarily disorientate him. It then took a single swipe to disarm the kid, the weapon skidding a few feet across the gravel. As Degar struggled to recover, Link dashed for the fallen blade. Take his blade and he's out of this fight. Simple…

or it should have been…

His fingers had almost grasped the handle when a cloud of gravel and dust struck him in the face. Hissing in pain, he recoiled, bringing his hand up to his stinging eyes as he coughed and hacked violently. He'd already lost his smell and now his sight was reduced to mere ghostly shadows on white background, the sun insultingly picking that moment to re-emerge from behind the tower. All he had left was his hearing, which was rendered momentarily redundant due to the sympathetic boos from the crowd drowning out the subtle sounds of his opponent's movements. Not that he didn't appreciate their disapproval at such a "dirty" trick as kicking dust in his eyes, but it certainly didn't help him.

A titanic shadow advanced, with a low chuckle and thunderous footsteps, matched by another rumble from the distant oncoming storm. "What's wrong farm boy? I thought you'd like dirt, given that you must have tasted plenty of it when you lay your goats!"

Link, still coughing and blinking feverishly, raised his sword up for to a high guard to protect his head. The blurry shadow before for him shifted, prompting him to swing wildly in the hope of beating away the predicted attack. By some miracle he managed to parry four consecutive strikes, however the fifth, a vicious thrust to the stomach, found its way through. A boot to the chest followed, winding him and he tumbled to the ground, Battered, bruised and wheezing for breath.

The blurred silhouette of Halshaw loomed into view overhead, the man's unrestrained smug laughter grating on his ears and nerves. "Hahaha, so here you are. Finally, you have learned your place…" He kicked Link's ankle hard, prompting a wince from the downed hero as an agonising jolt shot up through his leg. "Now all I need is your confession and I'll call this Holmgang satisfied… or alternatively I could just keep beating you. Personally, I can't understand why you would not be proudly proclaiming your achievement to your comrades. After all, for a runty, charmless, hedge-born goatherder such as yourself, bedding her royal highness, arguable the most illustrious and desired damsel in the kingdom, must seem like a veritable coup and indeed is likely the only action you'll ever get from a woman…" Link was almost glad he'd lost his vision, simply to spare him the sight of Halshaw's insufferable sneer that oozed from every snide remark the knight uttered as he began to circle.

After several revolutions with no reply Halshaw continued "What compels you to silence? Is it loyalty? Is it shame? Did she pity you? Is that it? Did she offer you wealth? A title? Future favours perhaps? Or is it that you are some hopeless romantic who believes that when a woman sleeps with you, it means something to her?!" With each and ever question answered with little to no reaction from his seemingly defeated adversary, his snide smugness faded as his ire reasserted itself.

Nursing his many bruises with the prospect of more appearing inevitable, Link still had no intention to sell Zelda down the river with a fabricated confession, especially to plicate a man like Halshaw. He'd endured far worse and he'd rather face a thousand blows than betray his princess. Even had he wanted to give up though, speech was a luxury that had been temporarily suppressed by yet more bouts of coughing and wheezing, chest aching with each rattling breath taken.

With appeasement off the table, there seemed to be just two options available; Lie there and take the beating or try to get up which would likely incite a worse beating to keep him down. That was until his opponent's rising fury planted the seeds of a plan in his head. Halshaw bore no shame in fighting dirty so why should he?

Slowly… pitifully… he curled up on his side and croaked out a barely audible response that sounded vaguely like "I'm… sorry"

Halshaw stopped mid rant to stare incredulously at the fallen hero. Link could just imagine his immaculate tar hued moustache twitching in consternation. "What?"

"I'm sorry" another pitiful croak.

"Oh you're sorry, are you?" Halshaw sneered, leaning down over Link's head. "For what?"

Link turned his head up to gaze at Halshaw, eyes still bleary, and paused before answering. "This is gonna hurt"

Thwack!

The hero rolled over and struck Halshaw solidly across the jaw with the flat of his blade. The knight stumbled backwards with a bellow of pain and frustration. Seizing the opening, Link dragged himself to his feet, somewhat unsteady as he stood and gingerly tested his injured ankle. Its protests were surprisingly moderate considering the impact but he grimaced at the realisation that his greatest asset now had a severe handicap.

His focus switched to his opposition, both of whom appeared still dazed from the strikes they'd received. He could only presume the squire had a glass jaw to still be out of it. Halshaw, however seemed to be coming to his senses, raising his guard and snarling.

Link responded in kind, minus the animal impression, though he wished his beast side would wake from its slumber for another appearance. Unfortunately, he was left with nothing but his adrenaline to power him through the intense aches plaguing much of his body. Making matters even more dire was the fact his vision, while slowly returning, was far too blurry to follow combat. He'd have to play it by ear… literally.

As a small act of mercy, the crowd had fallen silent, almost eerily so, likely in anticipation of what was sure to be the final showdown. There was a healthy betting community within the ranks when it came to sparring. He ruefully noted that, partially blinded, physically handicapped and vertically challenged, the odds certainly weren't in his favour. Perhaps this would be his humiliation after all.

Focusing his hearing, he caught the crunch of gravel beneath Halshaw's steel boots, the rattling of armour, his pounding heart and his snorting breaths. Off to his right came the groans of the squire and further in the distance, carried on the breeze, the shifting, gurgling waters of the moat, a sky lark calling somewhere in Hyrule fields and yet another rumble from the dark clouds approaching. Then the breeze died and for a moment all was still.

Time to end this!

Link knew the only way he could get past the knights reach advantage was to take the fight to him and beat his way into range before he could even begin to consider the final step. The problem was… he still couldn't see the blade properly. Without its location he couldn't engage effectively, however with every second he waited, the risk of Degar returning to the fray increased. Unfortunately, it seemed Halshaw was aware of this, as he made no move to attack.

He had to act now!

Swiping the air, operating purely on intuition, Link was rewarded with a resounding clang as his blade met resistance. As the resistance stopped, he observed the shifting weight of Halshaw's blurred form and caught a barely audible swish on his right side. Predicting the trajectory of his opponent's manoeuvre, he instinctively parried while stepping forward.

The exchange, which had started out tentative, soon picked up pace and fury. Parry, block, duck, parry, dodge… Relying almost entirely on a combination of his ears and instinctive knowledge of swordplay, Link beat back the bulk of the blows that came his way, avoiding all but one to his already bruised shoulder. For all his valiant efforts though, every step he gained was soon lost again, as Halshaw either forced him back or simply stepped back himself.

"What do you hope to achieve Farm boy! Why continue this futile confrontation? You can't win. Just confess and this will all be over."

Halshaw's taunt was clearly intended to demoralise him, however as the words burrowed into Link's skull it only reinforced his resolve. Something in the words and their tone stirred a part of him, thought lost in the aftermath of his adventures. The unshakable indomitable determination that had defined and driven him as the Hero of Twilight. The unstoppable force of will that had propelled him through countless hazardous situations and to victory over vastly superior adversaries. He knew what he had to do!

He lunged forward ignoring the painful protests from his ankle, letting forth one of his battle cries of old, a sound he'd not unleashed since he defeated Ganondorf himself. "Hiyaaa!" He pushed forward into Halshaw's defences, whaling away at the knight's blade with renewed vigour. Halshaw tried to drive him back as before, however Link simply grit his teeth and took the blows, rather than relinquish his hard-earned ground. The cacophony of steel on steel seemed almost deafening as he finally came within striking distance.

Exhilaration at this achievement, combined with his now steadily returning vision helped dull his many throbbing battle wounds, but the question remained; how would he actually defeat Halshaw? Two strategies sprang readily to mind, coasting on his adrenaline; bring him to his knees and then knock him out, or dislocate his sword arm at the shoulder. He could think of the consequences later.

Before he could pick, Halshaw grabbed his sword arm with his free hand and attempted to force it aside to open a strike at his head. Link winced under the giant's crushing grip and attempted a counter grapple, however with the protests of his battered body and the absence of his beast strength it all seemed in vain.

Wrestling with one opponent, fate appeared to be working against him as he heard the crunching footfalls of the other rushing in his direction. Then the rupee dropped. Two birds one stone!

Link, rather than struggling against the force of Halshaw's arm, suddenly ceased resisting, following the pull while ducking just low enough to avoid the blow to head. Attack dodged, he used his momentum to twist the knights arm back, while simultaneously slamming the pommel of his sword into the man's stomach. The strike, done purely on instinct, would have been a futile gesture given the full body armour… had it struck its intended target. The high-pitched squawk Halshaw released on the impact, reminiscent of a cucoo being strangled mid cluck, made it clear he'd struck rather lower than was honourable.

The beleaguered noble bent double, stumbling drunkenly forwards and continued the cucoo impression between bouts of impromptu windpipe practice. His ward, who'd been charging in to rescue him, skidded as he tried to stop short of his master but it was already to late. Checkmate!

Link, sporting an uncharacteristically devious grin and marvelling at how perfectly lined up the shot was, set his human cannonball lose, sweeping one of Halshaw's legs and shoving him at his squire. The resulting crash, witnessed by Link in glorious slow motion, achieved the contradiction of being uncoordinated yet bizarrely elegant.

Degar, staring in horror at the steel-clad run-away nobleman careening towards him, let rip a shrill howl, attempting to turn and dive out the way. He managed the first act of the manoeuvre with ease. Unfortunately for him, loose gravel combined with his own momentum stole his footing and transmogrified his orientation from the vertical to the horizontal with remarkable speed… and significant pain.

The unstable projectile that was the once venerable Sir Halshaw stumbled perpetually forward, propelled by his own unbalanced weight. His now prostrate squire proved the perfect obstacle to provide him a delightfully undignified deceleration. Clipping the kid's leg, Halshaw was granted a brief and breathless glimpse of the wonders of flight, before an ignominious landing to the sound of a bull in a blacksmiths shop.

Fortunately, he'd managed to avoid crushing Degar beneath him, much to the hero's relief, instead sailing clean over him to where he now lay sprawled, legs either side of the squire's head.

From the duo's accidentally suggestive positions, Link had expected to hear roars of laughter from some of the cruder members of the crowd, however the crowd remained silent. Probably still in shock over what had just transpired. Even he couldn't have predicted this.

As the dust settled and the full realisation of what he'd achieved sunk in, Link hastily hobbled up to his defeated foe, picked up the man's bastard sword and pointed it at his head. "This ends NOW!"

Sir Halshaw, creaked up onto his arms, wheezing and coughing. He first glanced to his fallen squire, before meeting the blade with daggers in his eyes as he rumbled "You think you've won! All your actions have done is prove how low you'll stoop. An honourless hedge-born snipe of the lowest order. Well, this is my Holmgang and it ends WHEN I SAY SO!"

"Actually, Sir Halshaw…" A familiar voice, ever feminine yet commanding, rang from the crowd, and both men's gazes instantly shot to its owner, as she continued curtly "I will be the one to decide when this Holmgang ends…" The Princess was here! Stunned by Zelda's seemingly miraculous materialisation, Link narrowly avoided dropping Halshaw's sword on his injured ankle. As soon as he caught up with the reality of the presence of her royal highness, in the flesh standing before them, he dropped to one knee and bowed deeply.

"Your Highness" He greeted awkwardly, as his brain attempted to fathom how she'd got there without him noticing. For all her magical abilities she possessed, he doubted the ability to appear from thin air was one of them. She could have done it the old-fashioned way but surely… his nose throbbed as if to remind him. Ah yes, how could he forget a possibly broken nose? Probably because there were several other body parts that had it worse. The walking hypothesis would also explain the crowd's uncharacteristic silence… but then how much of their duel did she witness?

"At ease, Gentlemen." Zelda addressed in a proper cordial manner, which was punctuated by what sounded like the collective release of a hundred breaths, along with the shuffling of a legion of steel boots. Link glanced up to meet her gaze and saw the faintest ghost of a smile shine through her formal mask and he couldn't resist returning it rather less subtly as he stumbled back to his feet, slightly ungainly from his weakened ankle. Almost instinctively he surveyed her entire being, revealing her to be back to her normal "regal and stately" purple attire. He couldn't be gladder for her arrival to stop this madness.

"Are you sure that's the only reason you're glad to see her?" Whispered that pesky little rogue voice in his head. Oh, come on, his crush isn't that bad!

"I must congratulate you on your courageous victory. A most impressive and inventive display, one worthy of the history books…" Then she paused dramatically. Her blue orbs, calm and temperate as the water of Lake Hylia, froze over and she turned a piercing gaze to Sir Halshaw, who was in the process of hauling himself up from the floor. "If it weren't for the fact that Holmgangs were banned almost a century ago!"

Well that certainly explained a lot, like why they couldn't find any references of it in the library. Well that was a waste of an evening! He glanced across at the knight, now upright, expecting some barbed comment. Halshaw junior, however, seemed to have learnt from his father's mistake, as he held his viper tongue, instead slathering his words in oily obsequiousness to disguise his contempt. "Well of course you are correct your highness, however technically it was only banned in solving civil disputes. Military Holmgangs were never officially outlawed and thus, given that this was a military Holmgang, no illegal transgression has been made…" A sliver of the knight's true personality shone through "… other than the disruption of a noble's attempt to rectify an injustice."

Zelda didn't bat an eye, wholly unimpressed by his argument and clearly not intimidated by his hulking mass towering head and shoulders above her. With calm stateliness, she ignored his thinly veiled rebuke. "Sir Halshaw, for this to be a military Holmgang, more commonly referred to as a contest of virtue, you would both have had to sign a waiver, you would both bare the same arms and you would both have seconds. Furthermore, only one combatant from each party would be allowed in the ring at any given time. The traditional Holmgang, which your little duel more closely resembled was nothing more than an archaic, barbaric means of nobles justifying revenge against individuals not of noble blood."

Halshaw's unctuousness tone was undermined by his sour expression as he replied "You possess a truly impressive knowledge of military and historical duelling practices, your highness. Nevertheless, with all due respect to your highness's intellect, I feel perhaps that your more… sensitive sensibilities have led you to… misjudge a noble tradition, unfairly maligned by jaundiced scholars."

"I can assure you, Sir Halshaw, I am acutely aware of your "respect" for me, and the various tenuous justifications and half-baked platitudes you are likely preparing to trot out for the necessity and honour of such "traditions". I, however, did not engage this conversation for a tiresome debate on ethics, especially as I already know your answers. The only fact of any bearing on this discussion is your publicly witnessed instigation of a practice that has been banned for a hundred years."

"Well, I would argue, your highness, that the specific rules of Civil Holmgangs were never clearly defined and that the only reason it was banned was because it was sometimes fought to the death. Our duel was, as you are no doubt aware, fought with practice weapons with absolutely no intention of inflicting mortal wound or indeed any major injury whatsoever…" Links bruised body voiced strong wordless disagreement at that particular statement. "As such I have not engaged in any questionable activity…" Halshaw's oiliness morphed to odiousness as, with a sickening smile and smug tone, he sneered "Besides even if I did and you could prove it, you have no direct authority over me in this case. This is military grounds and is a disciplinary matter. Therefore, it falls to the highest of military authorities, the grand general, to ultimately judge me and oh… who would that be? … ah yes my father!"

Zelda's eyebrow quirked in surprise and lowered her voice such that only Halshaw and Link could hear. "So… he did not tell you? My original purpose in coming to the barracks was to announce the news, assuming that you would know but not wish to say. Very well then, listen." With that she turned to the crowd of expectant soldiers, ignoring the knight's poorly disguised befuddlement. "Honourable soldiers of the grand army of Hyrule…" She addressed grandly "Unfortunately, as much as I would like to say it was your warm welcoming nature that brought me, that would be a lie. I have come to bring tidings of events that will affect the future of your noble order. As of this morning, in light of a regrettable incident with the Goron ambassador, Lord Halshaw, grand general of Hyrule, has announced his intention to step down from the post…"

There were murmurs from the crowd, quickly drowned out by a sudden explosion "WHAT?! My father would never relinquish his position willingly! ... You did this!" The knight's smarmy self-satisfaction had disintegrated into a fiery ruin of indignation and confusion.

Zelda, swirled back gracefully to him, remaining placid, seemingly unphased by the man's eruption "I can assure you, Sir Halshaw, no one was more surprised than myself when he announced his intentions, in front of the entire council, following this morning's meeting. Personally, I consider it his most admirable act…"

"Ad..admirable!" Sputtering like a clogged-up drain, the knight appeared dumbfounded, his face contorting and twisting, apparently unable to find an adequate expression.

"Yes. It may be hard to comprehend but admitting to one's mistakes often requires great strength and courage, especially in front of the council. Your father demonstrated both with his decision and proved he possessed a modicum of integrity."

Halshaw opened his mouth as if to protest, but as his eyes caught the audience surrounding them, any plans of voicing his objections apparently died in his throat, his lips pursing without words. After a few seconds pause, he finally responded with a bitter grumble "So who is in line to take on the esteemed position?"

"That has yet to be decided."

Halshaw snorted "Of course. Nobody else had the courage to take the role when my father stepped up in the aftermath of the invasion. I doubt any of those squibs have grown the balls to take it since then. Regardless of what you've done to make him step down, you'll have to reinstate him."

"Actually, since the position opened up there have already been three to voice their interest in the role. Their names, however are not for public discussion. Only the chosen candidate."

"Very well. If you refuse to tell me I'll simply ask my father. Now if there's nothing else, your highness…" He turned and stormed off towards the crowd, which began to part, only to stop as the princess's voice, loud and imperious, rang out from behind.

"Sir Halshaw, where do you think you're going? The matter of your illegal holmgang has yet to be resolved."

The knight summoned some of his early smugness "I believe I already made my case your highness and as I've said, even if my father has stepped down, it is still not within your authority to punish me, unless of course you wish to take this to court. Being that you are supposedly gifted with the wisdom of the goddesses, I'd imagine even one as sheltered as yourself to be able to predict the outcome. After all, I still have some powerful friends…" He let the final line hang in the air "Good day Your Highness"

He performed a mock bow, odious smile painted thick as clown make up across his contemptable visage. He slowly backed away and was about to turn to leave when the princess brought him to a halt with her next line, stern but composed. "While it may not be within my power to punish you officially for this incident, Sir Halshaw, I have other means at my disposal."

"Really, would that involve my reputation, just like my father's!"

"Do not think I am so naïve to miss the reason for this holmgang… even had I not witnessed your impassioned speech back there, knowing the events that have transpired, it's obvious." While her tone remained unchanged, Zelda's body visibly tensed as she stared down the knight.

"Then you must know, I will not concede this matter! Of course, if you were to simply confess and offer an apology then I would consider it settled. My family would be validated and, as you stated earlier, admitting your mistakes takes courage and is to be admired, so I'm sure your citizens would be understanding. At worst it would put you on equal standing with the rest of the ladies of the court. As for the supposed hero of twilight… well…" He met Link's icy glare with his characteristic contempt and a snort like an angry bull.

Link had already been on tenterhooks, watching the debate unfold as a mere impassioned spectator, but Halshaw's attention, though brief, brought immediate tension and he found his hands balling into fists. He slammed his eyes shut and took a few calming breaths. "Just act like you did last time, when it was his father slinging the mud. let Zelda handle it!" he told himself. That proved difficult advice to follow as his gut was urging him to leap into action, to do something, anything to aid the princess. The tense atmosphere was further amplified as the approaching storm began to darken the skies and the ominous rumbles grew more frequent.

"Sir Halshaw, as I told your father, I have nothing to confess. Nothing ignoble occurred that night. We met, we talked and, given my weariness, he graciously offered me a bed for the night, while he slept on a mat in the attic. We could not have been further apart without him moving house! Then in the morning your father, due to his inebriated state, made some very public and highly scandalous false accusations which ended up blowing up in his face. Your father is entirely responsible for the damage to your family name, not me, and not Link!"

"Isn't that tune getting rather tired?!" He scoffed.

"The truth is only tiresome to those who do not wish to hear it. What I find tiring is having to constantly repeat it to the likes of you!..." Anger finally seeping into her previously steady voice, the princess took a pause to regain her composure, glancing briefly across to Link, who tried his best to give his best reassuring nod. The urge in his gut was growing, and if he wasn't mistaken, growing more recognisable. It would seem the beast inside was stirring again.

Reasserting her rigid self-control and dignified sternness Zelda continued "Now you have two choices you can either accept the truth, in which case, I am willing to let you off with the warning that if you ever commit such an act again, I will see to it that charges are brought, regardless of the inconvenience to me or the court. If, however, you persist with your delusional campaign…" The knight tutted dismissively but the princess soldiered on "… then I see no reason to withhold your planned punishment! Furthermore, I would remind you that while it is not a crime to hold a negative opinion about me or any other members of the royal family, any action that could be interpreted as attempting to defame, disrupt or undermine the image or authority of such members can be classed as treason. You are welcome to believe what you wish about me Sir Halshaw, however if you continue to perpetuate falsehoods regarding me or my associations then there will be consequences."

With her speech concluded an eerie silence fell. The breeze had died, calming the waters of the moat and the distant skylark ceased its song. The knight offered no immediate protest. Instead, His cold iron grey eyes attempted to pierce the princess's mask, likely trying to decipher whether her threat was empty words or carried weight. She met his gaze unflinchingly, offering him no hint, the sole scrap of information extractable from her equally frosty disposition being her obvious distaste for the man.

The seconds ticked by as Link and the rest of the gathered spectators waited with bated breath. Shadow fell across the training yard as the sun was caught and slowly consumed by the engorged storm cloud. Moments later, the Stillness was broken by the first visible flash, followed moments later by a menacing boom that cut the silent air. The storm was not yet upon them but Link estimated it would be in less than half an hour till its tumultuous arrival.

Another low rumble, from a throat rather than inclement weather, brought Link back to the conversation. "Okay your highness, I'll make you a deal…"

"This is not a negotiation, Sir Halshaw!" Zelda interjected tersely.

"Well princess, you ARE asking me to believe many inherently questionable things. Firstly you expect me to accept the Hero of Hyrule, chosen by the goddesses, responsible for saving the entire kingdom from an all-powerful supernatural force… is HIM!..." He jabbed his finger in Link's direction "Then, I am to believe that your highness apparently fought alongside him, with bow and arrow on horseback to help defeat this great threat." His voice began to ascend in pitch and in pace as he tried to play up the implausibility to something verging on hysteria. "Thirdly but no less absurdly I am to accept that you and this hero met up at midnight, simply for a little comradely chat, before sleeping separately… in the hero's house… a house built into a tree…" He let out a short clownish trill of laughter. "How much separation can you get in a tree? Oh, I'm sorry your highness, just getting a little carried away Ahem… Anyway all I would require for me to believe this entire scenario is for you to prove that you possess the skills to accomplish your self-proclaimed feat of valour. Your Highness, I am willing to drop this "campaign" and indeed, accept any punishment you give me, without protest… if you can beat me in a contest of archery, right here, right now."

There was a new silence, altogether different from the last. The crowd were stunned. Link was hit by a sudden feeling of dread. He'd witnessed the man's prowess with a sword but, word had it, he was even better at archery… plus being him there was bound to be some trick, some stitch up he would play just to get ahead. Surely Zelda would know that? Surely it was an easy decision. Just turn him down and use his crusade as an excuse to look him up. It's not like anyone would miss him!

There was another angry flash chased by its accompanying fanfare from above.

"It would seem that the weather will soon be upon us, Sir Halshaw."

"Come now, your highness. Surely even you can loose four arrows before it arrives."

There was a pause as the princess glanced pensively at the dark anvil looming overhead.

"Hmmm. Standard Butt rules?" she asked.

"Standard Butt rules. To the letter, as you would wish it. A perfectly fair contest." Halshaw said with the ingratiating smile that would make a snake oil salesman jealous.

There was no way that Zelda would fall for such an obvious…

"Very well. I accept…" Link's jaw dropped. all Zelda's following words were lost in a haze of consternation and disbelief. What in Hyrule was she thinking?!

"Marvellous, I knew we could come to an amicable accord. Now as you so astutely pointed out your highness, the weather is closing in so we must make haste." Halshaw strode towards the thoroughly bemused and animated crowd of soldiers, who haphazardly parted, the princess following behind as they made their way to the other side of the training yard where the archery range could be found. The shocked hero snapped from his stupor and hobbled off in pursuit, once again reminded of the extent of his beating.

As they reached the range, Zelda gave a brief instruction to Neela, who's presence Link had been completely oblivious to until then. Inaudible message delivered, the handmaiden dashed off and the princess turned to inspect her "Butt".

The hero had to admit, he'd originally dismissed "Butt" to be some puerile soldier's humour when Borri had first revealed the name of the earth mounds on which the targets were mounted. From his current side on view it was easy to see why, yet this revelation failed to illicit even a wry smile, given his knotted nerves attempting to drag his stomach to his boots. The inner beast was groggy and seemingly just as baffled as he was to his princess's foolhardy decision. And where had her animosity gone? She had previously worked to disguise it but it had still stained her pristine princessly mask. Now she was acting like this was an amicable game between acquaintances, too distant to harbour any ill will!

"I take it, Sir Halshaw, this being a traditional 4 arrow contest, that you as the host will loose the first arrow?" she enquired nonchalantly.

"Of course, your highness. You are clearly well versed in archery tradition." Came the knight's cloying reply. The insincerity of the man's manner was almost enough to set Link, already slightly nauseous from trepidation, retching into his helmet.

"I do hope you aren't patronising me?" The young royal asked, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Oh great, so she hadn't lost her memory or her animosity.

"Meeee! Never your highness"

Another distant angry flash drew their attention in the direction of the barracks, just as degar, who'd completely slipped Link's mind, emerged carrying two long bows. Zelda's mask cracked at the sight, apparently taken aback. Why?

"You need not supply me with a bow, I was just about to summon my own."

"But your highness, surely it hasn't slipped your mind. Standard rules dictate all competitors are uniformly armed and I recall, not to long ago, you made a most eloquent case for following rules." The knight couldn't restrain a sly smirk.

Zelda blinked in uncharacteristically gormlessness, sending Link's already nervous mind reeling. How could she have not seen this coming?! Had it really just "slipped her mind"? Even he knew that basic rule, one of the main reasons he disliked the standard butt archery contests so much. The same reason the princess gaze carried the hint of trepidation seeping through her normally unshakable composure as she took in the weapon presented to her. The Longbow was a formidable weapon but not for the faint of heart. Link was the only man his size among the ranks to possess the sufficient strength to wield it, and even then, it was far from comfortable. To Zelda, it would be like trying to pull her own carriage! That thing could break her in half! Yet, to his utter dismay, he had no means to intervene. He couldn't protect her from her own folly. She'd have to save herself.

She tried at least…

"You asked me for a demonstration of how I defeated Ganondorf. I simply wished for said demonstration to be as authentic as possible."

"Ah, but you never agreed to an authentic re-creation of a battle. I made my deal quite clear, your highness. Standard Butt rules. To the letter. You would not go back on your word, would you?" Zelda had no riposte, prompting the insufferable smirk to widen. "Besides, what is one bow to any other…" Link glowered at the smug prick. There were plenty of differences, major and minor, between weapons even of the exact same style and he knew it! The frustrated hero ground his teeth as he suppressed voicing his objection, in case it made matters worse. He could only glare on as the knobbish knight continued "Surely someone with your warrior's acumen would have no trouble adjusting, unless of course you are suggesting that there is something special about this particular bow, something that made up for some inadequacy…" Halshaw paused but again received no reply from the princess. "Well then your highness, as you so astutely pointed out, time is of the essence so it would gratify me as your humble subject if you would take your bow and we can begin."

With clear reluctance, Zelda took the bow from the squire and examined it. its size was brought into sharp relief as she held it vertically. Grasping it tightly in both hands, she planted one end on the ground and rested her head on the other. She closed her eyes and seemed to be muttering under her breath. Was she praying?! Link's stomach gave another horrible lurch at the thought of such a public display of desperation. This had to be some sort of catastrophe, one which Halshaw was clearly revelling in, based on his almost gleeful expression.

"Beseeching the goddesses, your highness? I'm afraid they will do you no good. This is my arena. Not even they could defeat me."

"I do not require their assistance, Sir Halshaw however I would advise against mocking them. Have you not heard the old adage of a woman scorned?"

"I meant no offense, your highness, to either you or the goddesses." As if the goddesses themselves were scoffing at his derision, a fork of lightning snaked across the approaching wall of cloud, chased by another reverberating roll of thunder. "We must make haste!"

They each moved to their positions. Halshaw was strident, giving the impression he would be walking on air if not for his earlier injury. The princess, meanwhile, had lost her characteristic ability to float, her poorly concealed dismay tethering her to the ground and constraining her to the mortal way of traversal known as walking.

Upon reach their marks, where Degar had just finished depositing quartet of arrows each, they turned their gazes to their targets 60 yards away, one with smarmy self-satisfaction, the other with trepidation. Two earth mounds, four feet high, referred to as butts, supported two circular targets, each comprising of five coloured rings to aid with scoring.

Halshaw, being first, wasted no time nocking the premier arrow of the contest and drew the string back with ease. As he stood, bow drawn with a casual air, affording himself a smug sideways glance at the princess, the stark contrasts of their stature's and dispositions couldn't be clearer. The knights bow appeared significantly smaller due to their comparative sizes. For the man who'd just moments before insisted they made haste, he seemed more than willing to waste precious seconds showing off.

Finally satisfied with his muscle exhibition, he loosed his arrow… to equally impressive results. The arrow flew fast and true, imbedding with a mighty thud just outside of the bullseye. 4 points to the knight! It was testament to how little respect the ranks held for him that such a shot only earned him a smattering of polite applause, much to Link's approval.

Then all eyes turned to the pensive princess and the crowd fell into respectful silence, anticipating her display. Many among the regiments had heard of her prowess, from those who witnessed her masterclass in Ordon and from the hero who fought alongside her. It was fair to say though, that they were probably well aware of the challenge facing the young royal in even drawing a longbow. The atmosphere was electric, and not just from the storm. Link just hoped that his comrades were willing her on as much as he was.

"Come on Zelda! You can do it! You can do it!" He repeated in his head, though his rational mind considered it futile.

If Zelda was aware of the hundred eyes fixated intently on her, she didn't show it as her gaze never left the target, only breaking to blink. She focused her breathing and nocked an arrow. Now to see what was possible…

Her audience waited…

And waited…

Halshaw had just opened his obnoxious hole in his face, when the princess finally tugged string with all her might. The string inched back and the princess's entire delicate frame shuddered violently. Nevertheless, with valiant perseverance the bow string crept back as she continued to strain from the tension, her usually beautiful and composed visage contorting with the effort.

Link willed her on with his mantra until it was almost fully drawn, much to his astonishment. That alone was worthy of praise.

Zelda loosed her arrow and any hope her miraculous draw had produced evaporated into the electrically charged air. She hit her target… barely.

"1 point, your highness! I'm impressed."

It was with little hesitation or fanfare that the knight nonchalantly drew his second arrow and released. With ruthless efficiency it found the bullseye, marked with another flash of lightning as the darkness loomed closer. Another 5 points.

Link was the first to flick his gaze back to the princess, as another rumble cracked through the ripple of polite applause, only to see her once again lift her head from her bow, eyes fluttering open while her lips finished another silent whisper. Had she been praying again? At this moment the only way he could see the goddesses intervening would be to accelerate the weathers inevitable approach. Then at least, there would be reason to abandon the contest. Droll rumination aside he turned his attention back to the princess.

Determination emanating from every delicate pore of exposed ivory skin, prickled with Goosebumps in the subtle chill of the storm, Zelda tried again. It would seem that the second prayer had achieved something. While still noticeably straining, the princess appeared far less beleaguered than on her first attempt. Link held his breath for her. This time surely…

3 points! While it was certainly an improvement it wasn't enough, especially as the knight promptly responded with yet another bullseye. Maths wasn't Link's strongest suit but, by his calculations, the best Zelda could possibly hope for was a draw. Even that required her to score two bullseyes of her own, with the addition of Halshaw completely missing his final shot. This knowledge certainly didn't calm the beast within that ran restless circles in his stomach as it sought a way to help.

Zelda, meanwhile, took one of her characteristic braids and tucked it behind her ear. Her blue orbs, just visible from her profile, jumped from the arrow in her gloved hand to the target and back again. The third arrow was nocked clinically, with renewed focus and soon sailed into an impressive bullseye, met with enthusiastic cheers.

Great… but she was still 5 points behind!

Her fate ultimately rested with Halshaw's next shot. Link prayed for a perfectly timed thunderbolt to interrupt the man's concentration, however he had a backup plan, albeit a crude and unsubtle one.

Unwilling to place his faith in the goddesses on this occasion, he watched and waited as the knight drew back for the final time and then as the string reached its limited… he coughed!

His noble efforts were in vain as another thud marked a third consecutive bullseye, although the arrow came dangerously close to striking one of its neighbours. It was one of the tightest, most consistent clusters of arrows anyone had ever seen.

Link's little distraction attempt earned him a glance from Halshaw that just said "Really?!" He received similar glances from some of his comrades. Zelda, on the other hand, gave him a somewhat unexpected response. She made sure to catch his gaze and then winked, displaying the hint of a smile, that, by her twitching lips was threatening to become more than that. What did she have to smile about? He'd failed and she'd lost!

Her eyes, gleaming with sudden inexplicable confidence and intense concentration, turned back to her last arrow. She licked her lips. She nocked the terminal projectile and drew back the bow, straining yet dignified. Then in a fluid motion she swung to her left and released. What was she doing?!

The arrow's flight was clean and graceful as it raced towards its objective. Link had just enough time to realise its target before the arrow struck… cleaving diagonally through the shafts of Halshaw's trio of bullseyes, shattering them into multiple pieces. A truly magnificent display of archery if ever there was one but he couldn't fathom the point of it. The crowd seemed too stunned to respond.

Even Halshaw appeared to be having difficulty comprehending the shot the delicate princess had just achieved with apparent ease. His mouth opened and closed without speech as his iron grey gaze flicked from his tattered target to Zelda and back. He strode up to the butt to give the aftermath closer inspection, still struggling to believe it. He bent down to pick up a remnant and turned it in his hand.

Another fork, more dramatic than any before, streaked directly overhead accompanied simultaneously be its thunderous clap, informing all present that the storm had arrived and it was but a matter of time before it dropped its heavy payload.

"I must admit, your highness, that was a legitimately impressive shot…" Wait, was Halshaw genuinely complimenting the princess? "…if a rather petty one, assuming destroying my arrows was your intention. Regardless, it does nothing to change the fact that I have won…"

Zelda cut him off, her prim and proper demeanour returning, tainted with the faintest hint of smugness. "And how do you reach that conclusion, Sir Halshaw?"

"Well, er, Its blatantly obvious. I scored 19 points to your 9."

The princess wrestled to conceal the amused satisfaction from her rebuttal "On the contrary, standard butt rules dictate that only undamaged arrows can be counted, of which only one is present on your target."

The knight gaped for a moment, rendered temporarily speechless. When he finally regained his voice, it was a sonorous roar of indignation "Because you broke them! And don't you dare deny it!"

"I wouldn't dream of denying such a marvellous feat."

"So you admit you cheated!" The man's face puffed with fiery fury, as if stoked by a pair of blacksmith's bellows concealed in his sharp cheekbones.

Prim and nonchalant, Zelda laid out her defence, though her eyes sparkled with delight as she basked in her nemesis' seething indignation. she wasn't alone in enjoying it. "Firstly, you are assuming that such an action is prohibited within the rules of standard butt contests. Furthermore, it can hardly be considered cheating when said action is far more challenging than normal competitive manoeuvres."

"But it IS prohibited!" Halshaw interjected hotly

"Incorrect. A competitor may not directly damage or interfere with another's arrows by means of removing or breaking, with hands, knifes, hammers or other manual implements. It says nothing, however, of competitors using an arrow, loosed from their bow at range, to deliberately damage those of an opponent. What's more, there are several records of such tactics being legitimately employed by the lauded archer Phineas Foxworth, widely considered to be the greatest archer of his day."

"I don't believe any of that for a second!"

"I thought you might say that, which is why I instructed my handmaiden to fetch my copy of the historical treaties in which the rules are laid out…" She glanced skywards as another rumble rent the air "…although you may wish to continue this indoors"

"Oh no, Your Highness, we are settling this, here and now!"

"Well then, we will have to… Ah, she has arrived. Greetings Neela, I see you found it." The handmaiden hurried forth, carrying a fairly substantial tome, which she handed to Zelda before curtseying and assuming a position behind her. "You wanted evidence, Sir Halshaw. I present to you "Combat and Civility: A knightly compendium", probably among the most comprehensive volumes on ritual, ceremonial and tournament combat you will ever find. Now if you will excuse me a moment while I find the relevant passage..."

It was as the princess began to flick through the pages that Link had an epiphany. If she had sent Neela for the book before the contest even began then the inescapable conclusion was… it had been her plan all along! It was certainly a bold plan but also treacherously risky. How could she be so confident of its success? Did she have any sort of plan B or had she just gambled her reputation on a trick shot?

These questions spun in his brain as Zelda launched into her evidence, her recitation not penetrating his whirlwind of ponderings. While her voice, ever calming is it was, helped sooth his turbulent thoughts, one contemptable word drifting to his ears instantly shattered the spell.

"Bitch…" muttered a low sonorous voice. He whirled round to see Halshaw, still by his target, glowering at the princess with barely suppressed hatred.

Every muscle in Link's body tensed. His hair stood on end. Feral instinct stirred inside.

"Lying little harlot…"

His fists and jaw clenched. All his senses locked onto Halshaw. The crowd and the storm faded from senses and thought. Zelda's voice, the sole thing keeping him sane

"Scheming witch…"

Hunger gnawed at his stomach and a red mist descended on his vision.

"C***…"

Link flinched as though struck by a physical blow, his cranium not willing to accommodate such a word within its walls. Zelda's voice was consumed by a ringing in his ears. He was losing control! He bared his teeth but did not move.

Halshaw's Lips produced more bile but Link couldn't hear it. That didn't stop him shaking with rage. His red tunnel vision locked onto the knight's hands, also clenched into tight fists… and was that…

Something small and sharp poked out from Halshaw's gauntleted fingers. Dangerous! Zelda must be protected! One wrong move and…

Halshaw stepped forward, hateful eyes fixated on Zelda.

Link suddenly found himself locked out of his own bodily control, becoming a spectator in his own head. He could see he was charging forward yet he had no sensation. Lighting flashed and Halshaw's mouth moved, yet his ears caught neither thunder nor bile. His many bumps and bruises were likely yelling at him to stop yet their pleas never reached him.

lips parting, emitting a cry he couldn't hear, Link suddenly found himself leaving the ground, sailing towards the knight's head. His target, previously oblivious to the impending doom, finally registered his approach, rounding on him, baring the visage of a petrified catfish; whiskers quivering, mouth gaping and eyes virtually popping from his head.

Time appeared to take a nap…

As his gauntleted fist clocked the surprised noble's jaw with supreme force, sending shockwaves shooting up his arm, sensation and control was restored to their rightful owner. Unfortunately, the wild usurper hadn't left said owner in the best condition or position. Soaring through the air, ankle, arm and hand all screaming in agony, he found himself hurtling towards Halshaw's "Butt", even as the nobleman himself toppled like a plank of wood. Avoiding a direct collision, Link's injury ankle caught the brim, with excruciating results, as his world was turned on its head.

The ground raced up to greet him.

This was going to hurt!

Indeed it did…

For a second before all went black.