A.N: Hello my fantastic readers. I hope you're all doing well. I'm back finally with another instalment, though yet again things don't go quiet as planned. The events which had originally planned as one chapter were then of course split into two… and now they've been split into three. You know sometimes I think I've bitten off more than I can chew, just like Link in this chapter but just like him I intend to soldier on.
But all soldiers need some help to motivative them so keep your feedbacks coming and let me know if you enjoy it or even if you've got any constructive criticism you feel like sharing. There's always room for improvement and I greatly appreciate it.
Now without further ado, on with the story!
Chapter 25 – An Uneasy Promotion (Part 2)
He caught it… briefly…
As the servant turned, he made out the silhouette of a child-like figure, with a horned crown, round head and pointy ears, clinging to the man's shadow. It was her! Here was his proof!
His chest tightened. His footsteps froze. His mind was in turmoil, the revelation consuming all other thoughts. His wrist quivered, like a coiled spring.
"Sir Link!"
Zelda's sudden address, while calm and composed, blindsided the fixated hero. The thunderous applause which quickly followed shattered his concentration with an almost physical blow, snapping the spring and loosing the tube from his gauntlet like an arrow from a bow. It was only a moment later, as he registered the opposite gauntleted fist closing round the weapon, enveloping it from any possible prying eyes, that he truly appreciated the muscle memory instilled via his overzealous practice – that and his natural lightning reflexes.
Immediate crisis averted, Link's head turned to the princess, even as his attention flickered between her, the suspicious servant and his shadow. The shadow of Midna had, unsurprisingly, vanished once again.
The deafening applause, which showed no signs of abating, was intensified by cheering, whooping and whistling, which soon turned to a united chant of "Hero! Hero! Hero!". Clearly Zelda's plan to spread the tales of his heroics had succeeded, given she hadn't used his title in her address. Link would have prayed for the ground to swallow him up, if it weren't for the still unresolved threat of whatever Reefa and the servant had planned. Nevertheless, even as he struggled to formulate a viable strategy to defend the princess from their scheme, he couldn't suppress wincing at the exuberant and wholly undeserved fanfare.
He turned his attention back to Zelda, who looked to be appreciating the crowd's enthusiasm far more than he was and seemed blissfully unaware of the danger waiting at the bottom of the steps, now noticeably jittery with the tray of wine. Link opened his mouth to shout a warning but knew it would be smothered before it reached the princess's ears. Time to beseech the goddesses once more. "Please, please warn Zelda." He muttered.
Again, his prayer seemed miraculously answered, as the princess's gaze crossed his and quickly turned to the servant. She raised her hand and the fanfare dissipated with astonishing speed.
"Wait a moment, I apologise for interrupting this auspicious occasion but I cannot stand by while a subject needlessly suffers." Her apology prompted confused whispers from the audience. Link was equally baffled and worried. Had she, the wisest in the land, with an unrivalled ability to read people, not noticed it was all an act. To be fair though, it had taken several minutes for him to figure it out and he wasn't trying to run a ceremony at the same time. Nevertheless, the threat remained and so he may still need his blade. There was, however, no way he could present reasonably himself to her with a closed fist. His focus and gaze still following Zelda and the servant, he tried, slyly yet clumsily to inveigle the tube back into its gauntlet hideaway. Wearing gauntlets, however, significantly hampered his dexterity.
"you there…" the princess addressed placidly, pointing to the servant, who blanched under the suddenly attention of every eye in the room. "You are one of Lord Cole's servants, are you not?"
"Um, uh, er, yes your highness. Folsir, um, at your service, your highness." The servant stammered, bowing long, a display - Link suspected - just as much about hiding his face as showing respect.
"Your injury clearly gives you great pain, Folsir, pain you would not be suffering if not for the exertion of your work. I hereby grant you leave of your duties for the rest of the day." Ok, perhaps this would solve the problem anyway. Link felt a tentative wave of relief lap at his towering nerves, but was cautious in his optimism.
Folsir certainly wasn't relieved at the news. "WHAT! B.b. your highness…" he sputtered indignantly, before seemingly almost biting his tongue clean off, if his pained expression was any indication, as he attempted to recompose himself. After a moment's pause and a clearing of his throat, indignation melted to cloying obsequiousness. "my deepest apologies for speaking out of turn, your highness, but I beg you to reconsider. The pain I can manage, but I am desperately poor and need this work."
"That is most sad to hear, however your wealth problems need not lead you to needlessly sacrifice your health. You are surely aware the court offers indisposition pay. It would require approval from a court physician but, given the severity of your limp, I have little doubt of their favourable conclusion…" Hang on! Her tone and words sang with earnest sympathy but Link now suspected he'd been far too hasty in thinking Zelda had bought Folsir's acting. "… Besides I do believe a certain noble's recent and most generous donation would be more than enough to cover the days work." Zelda's smile remained demure yet a spark flashed in her eyes as they flicked pointedly between the servant and "a certain noble".
Despite his knowledge of the connection between Folsir and Lord Reefa it took several seconds for him to fully understand the princess's not so subtle insinuation. Donation? Then the rupee dropped, just as they had done in the servant's pocket. Bribery! So that meant the blade like protrusions he spied from the man's pocket could be rupees rather than weapons.
The subtext of the princess's abrupt deviation from the ceremony likely sailed clean over the heads of the townsfolk and soldiers but he very much doubted the nobles missed it. Whether they knew the identity of "a certain noble", he couldn't know but in a wave of revelation and relief, he realised that, by calling out the act but not the culprit, she had achieved the clever dual effect of sending a warning to all the nobles regarding such acts, while also gaining a potential leverage over Lord Reefa.
The warning shut down any further resistance from Folsir, who sheepishly mumbled another apology - whether for the princess's benefit or Reefa's, he couldn't tell -, before bowing again and turning to leave. Zelda, however had other ideas, turning her eyes and her voice to the dopey guard next to him, who had been watching the whole affair unfolding with mild bemusement but now jolted to attention.
"Legate Kramer"
"Er, yes your highness."
"Please ensure this man is escorted safely to the infirmary."
Folsir jumped into immediate and frenzied protest, words tumbling from his mouth so fast he couldn't fully conceal the near panic in his tone. "Really, your highness, I would rather simply return to my quarters. I am fit enough to make it back there on my own." When the last word leapt from his tongue, the man flinched.
Zelda ignored the man's impropriety, replying with nothing more a placid hum of consideration to his speaking out of turn. "Hmm, very well. Legate Kramer, please ensure this man is escorted safely to his quarters."
Kramer blinked gormlessly at the order, and for once Link had to say he shared the Legate's confusion. What was the escort in aid of if she knew Folsir's injury was fake? Surely there had to be a reason behind it.
"Um, your highness, surely if he says he is well enough to make it on his own…"
"I consider it better to exercise prudence in such matters so please… carry out my order."
"But…"
"And it is an order."
Kramer grimaced and opened his mouth as if to object but, unlike Folsir, he held his tongue. The question now was… why was he so reluctant to carry out such a simple order? What was he…
Click!
It took a couple of seconds for the fixated hero to realise that the click he'd just heard was not the sound of the gears in his head churning round that question but the sound of a blade springing out… his blade… which had been sprung by his thoughtless clumsy attempts to conceal it. With his attention on what he thought to be the most pressing concern he'd managed to snag the release catch on one of the straps of his gauntlet he'd attempted to slip it into, a strap which, from the suddenly loosening of the heavy steel glove around it, now hung by a thread.
It was at that moment that Zelda called him and his pulse broke into a gallop. He barely noticed Folsir and his escort slinking past him. "Sir Link, please step forth to receive your acclimation."
Link was momentarily frozen as a fresh round of cheers broke out from the crowd and several hundred pairs of eyes trained on him expectantly, the absolutely last thing he wanted with a sagging gauntlet hiding a sharp and highly illegal secret. There was little risk of the gauntlet detaching completely but the same could not be said for the weapon, now imbedded, partly in the remains of the strap - which clung valiantly on despite its mortal wound – and partly in the leather glove beneath. The strap put up a heroic effort but it couldn't hold out indefinitely and when it finally passed away, it could take his career and possibly his freedom with it! With his heavily encumbered dexterity and the weapon's unhandy position it was nigh on impossible to retrieve. Even if he could though, there was no way to retract the blade without being caught in the act.
He had no other choice. All he could do was secure it as best he could and pray to the goddesses that it stayed fast. Grasping at the valuable seconds provided by the scenic route to hopefully provide a modicum more stability to the precarious weapon, Link strode to the back of the room and round to the grand entranceway where he halted to look up the red-carpet river to Zelda's regal form.
At that moment the sun seemed to find the perfect peephole through the grand high windows, pouring a shaft of divine white gold down on the princess. Her diadem and pauldrons glistened and her dress and alabaster skin glowed, so bright it drowned the deep purple of her bodice, making the whole gown appear snowy white. It was a majestic, magical sight that one would think could only exist in fairy tales, a sight that in other circumstances would have doubtlessly played into the delusional fancies of his heart, were it not for the incessant tapping of metal against his wrist and the whole world's attention reminding him of his precarious situation. Nevertheless, even with his mind on the danger, the angelic vision of the princess did briefly steal his breath away.
Link gulped, gave one last furtive check to his gauntlet and strode forth up the aisle with as close to easy confidence as he could muster. His heart provided a brisk drumbeat in his ears, so loud he could hear it clean over the raucous crowd. The enthusiastic cheers showed no signs of abating as he reached the stairs and ascended to meet his fairy tale princess, who, as he approached and briefly met her gaze, awarded him a warm reassuring smile, subtle but noticeably beyond the bounds her normal veil permitted. He returned it and took it for all the comfort he could – which was unfortunately scarce little - before returning to proper ceremonial etiquette and bowing his head.
He knelt and the crowd fell silent almost immediately. There was a rattle from his gauntlet and he had to suppress a wince. Come on Zelda! Start your speech and cover it up before it starts raising suspicions or eyebrows!
"And now we come to our final and arguably most esteemed honouree of this grand and auspicious event. Not to denigrate the accomplishments of those who came before, all of whom have done sterling work and demonstrated laudable character, but it would be wrong to deny our current honouree's ultimate and unsurpassed achievements and integrity demonstrated in service to the kingdom. Doubtless, from your fervent ovation you know of his achievements…"
Link, gaze averted to the red carpet, eyes occasionally attracted by the hem of Zelda's skirt flitting into his peripheral vision, found himself beginning to mimic its colour as the buzzing of the audience signalled the threat of another impending round of applause. Today was his first exposure to a public aware of his accomplishments and, as he'd suspected, he hated it! Not an hour ago they had been mourning the losses of goddess knows how many people and now here they were applauding the man who failed to save them. Did he deserve it after failing so many?
Suddenly Zelda's ivory gloved hand appeared before him and he finally turned his attention back to her words. "Sir Link, please take your oath."
The buzzing ceased instantly and the room fell so silent one would think everyone had forgotten to breath. The air was thick with anticipation or, in the case of the hero, apprehension. Now came the tricky bit, the one part of this whole affair which shook his nerves, even before considering the events additional unforeseen complications. He was about to partake in an ancient tradition, held in reverence by the nobles and expected to be performed to a meticulous degree of precision.
Zelda's lecture echoed in the back of his mind. "Do not underestimate the importance of the correct performance Link. There will be many among the nobility looking to judge you severely and will find the slightest fault just to reaffirm their prejudice. Too limp wristed, they'll say you lack conviction. To firm and you'll be branded boorish and violent. The angle of the wrist is also key as different inclinations in relation to mine indicate entirely different purposes…" He remembered the correct position but not the meaning of any of the many others. "Also watch the pace you recite the oath. Too slow will be seen as reluctance while too fast could be branded as flippancy or poor constitution." Goddesses, so much to be aware of and all to just recite an oath of fealty! As if remembering the words wasn't enough to contend with! There was however one golden rule above all others… Once you've started, do not, under any circumstances, let go until you've finished!
He raised his hand slowly and steadily to take hers, trying to minimise and ignore the jangling of his gauntlet. As they touched, he found himself having to suppress a blush. Even though they were separated by several inches of rough leather, cool steel and soft silk, he was struck by the inescapable feeling that this was, somehow, too intimate an act for such a public audience. Despite the barrier between them, he could sense the delicacy of her dainty fingers, the smooth perfection of her skin and even, possibly, the rhythm of her pulse, though he might have been mistaken.
Another rattle from his illicit concealment broke the spell and, as his own pulse spiked once more, he jumped into his oath, with rather more vigour than was probably respectable. "I, Sir Link, pledge myself, body and spirit…" Hey! Hey! Remember, slow and steady. "to serve, with the utmost faith, strength and integrity…" That's it! like Zelda said. Just like a horse, far more composed at a stately trot. "the kingdom of Hyrule and her royal highness Princess Zelda Melania Bosphoramus the Third of Hyrule. I, Henceforth, by all matters of faith, virtue and conscience, dedicate my worldly duties to upholding all legal precedents and preserving civil dignity, safety and liberty…"
Link's tongue almost tripped as a tug on his gauntlet strap diverted his eyes and his attention to its increasingly precarious cargo, creeping towards disaster. Eyes now fixated on its progress; his tongue narrowly managed to avoid a slip as he continued to recite as calmly as possible.
"By the courage of Farore I will show the fortitude to always protect the innocent…"
The jewel encrusted tube crept another inch…
"By the wisdom of Nayru I will show the temperance to see that justice is fair and mercy granted when worthy…"
He needed to speed up! ok, a brisk canter should do it… hopefully… please Goddesses, grant me some small luck!
"By the power of Din I will show the strength to vanquish all foes intent on harming the Kingdom, her royal highness or her citizens…"
He had memorised and recited these ancient words without question or fault, however the next line… the next line positively screamed of a bygone era and though he knew the sentiment to which they spoke, he'd always had to fight a blush. In front of an audience, such words seemed positively scandalous, particularly given his heart's desires.
"And by the grace of Hylia, I swear to love, honour and obey her royal highness as I would the goddess herself, aid her in any endeavour she requests without hesitation…"
Crap! The blade was slipping faster now, dangling at an ever more perilous angle. He had no choice. Onwards towards full gallop.
"Never betray her to falsehoods; never betray her truths unto others…"
How long could it hold? Should he just play it safe and simply break wrist-ly decorum by raising it, improving his odds of avoiding prison at the expense of potential scandal with whatever the nobles interpreted of his unorthodox angle? He was now beginning to sweat nervously. Come on! The finish line was in sight!
"Never disgrace her honour and always, and in all ways, protect her from harm or distress from this breath forth until my last. On the blood of my ancestors and the will of the goddes…"
Shit! Shit! Shit! Suddenly the strap gave way completely. He raised his wrist sharply, just as the metal tube finally slipped free of its moorings. The tube met the steel gauntlet with a dull thud, sliding down to mercifully stop on the rim. Link took a sharp intake of breath mid word. He wasn't the only one, as several shocked gasps emanated from among the nobles. Blimey, that was close!
"… goddesses I swear this and should I fail to uphold my vows I will accept the judgement of her royal highness and the goddesses upon my soul." Link released an instinctive sigh of relief as his trial finally ended, the potential rudeness of such a gesture momentarily slipping his mind in the euphoric aftermath. It was only a few seconds later that he silently thanked Zelda for covering it up.
"Sir Link, chosen hero of the Goddesses, legate of the grand army of Hyrule, your oath has been heard by all. Your dedication and courage of which you spoke has been attested a thousand times over with the services you have already done for us, services such as we could never fully convey our gratitude. Nevertheless, you continue to offer your life and your service to us, an honour we shall not treat lightly…" Link, whose senses had been trained entirely on the crowd and the subtle sensations of her hand in his, almost jumped at the sudden feeling of another equally delicate hand resting on his shoulder. Yet again the armour seemed to do little to separate him from its presence. He found himself going red again, yet couldn't resist a glance up at her beauty, which revealed a slight pinkness in her marble cheeks as well. Was the princess really blushing or was it just a trick of the light?
Zelda cleared her throat and continued, apparently unphased. Perhaps he was wrong? "…Ahem, It is with great pleasure and pride that I, Zelda Melania Bosphoramus the Third of Hyrule, princess and heir to the throne of the glorious Kingdom of Hyrule, bestow upon you the esteemed rank of captain of the guard and the prestigious title of royal shield with all the responsibilities, benefits and privileges therein. I also present to you the medal of Farore, the highest award for bravery it is within my power to grant, for your heroic actions in banishing the Twilight." Wait a sec! He wasn't told he was getting a medal!
Nevertheless, the medal, fashioned as a ornate green sash with a large pendant pinned though the shiny silk, was soon hung over his shoulder. "Please rise, Sir Link."
Their connected hands parted and his arm dropped limply to his side, his illicit weapon thankfully sliding back into the depths of his gauntlet. The crisis was over.
It was the signal to leave, yet as he turned to face the thunderous applause of the crowd, he found his legs not functioning correctly. He just stood, staring out at the whooping overwhelming mass whose deafening cheers seemed to threaten to crack the monumental vaulted ceiling and bring it crashing down. Again, came the question… did he deserve it?
Eventually came a hand on his shoulder. "Sir Link?" her voice was soft, yet even over the din, he heard it clear and crisp as the sunbeams streaming down upon them.
Message received, he stumbled drunkenly down the stairs, still in a state of shock, his limbs stiff and movements jarring as a redead's. After what seemed like an age, he slumped into his seat and the strained smile he'd painted on his face peeled away like old plaster to reveal his shock and disquiet. Luckily the only witness to this was the neighbour he'd spent much of the ceremony irritating with his jittery wariness.
With him seated, the crowd died down and Zelda's regal voice rang out once more through the cavernous chamber. "My Lords and Ladies, esteemed guests and loyal subjects. I thank you all for coming and sharing in this celebration of the many heroes our great kingdom has, is and will continue to be blessed with. Let us not forget their trials, virtues and sacrifices but look to them as inspiration as we continue to forge a bright future for this great land…"
Inspiration, huh. His attention turned to his medal, to which he had only given a cursory glance before. Now he was transfixed. A tiny intricate tri-force shone out from the forehead of a silver wolf's head, patterned with black jet highlights and capped off, most strikingly of all, with glowing green emerald eyes. This was no normal medal of valour. When had Zelda commissioned this? Why hadn't she told him about it? True, he would have objected but still…
He stared into the glistening eyes of his animal form, captured with remarkable accuracy and, fierce yet noble spirit. Fierce and noble?! It had been a long time since he'd embodied both together. He could be noble and, by the goddesses, his beastly freak outs provided he could be fierce; but to have the ferocity tempered by control and reason, let alone something approaching nobility or honour… that was a luxury he hadn't known for a long time.
"Do you mind "Sir link"! Some of us had places to be." A haughty scoff from his neighbour, almost drowned out by a sudden thunderous cacophony, knocked him clean out of his thoughts. What he done now?!
A second's glance around revealed all. Wait, everyone was getting up! Was it over? Had he missed the end of Zelda's speech? It would seem so as she was already heading for one of the rear antechambers behind the throne. He hadn't even applauded. Nor had his paranoia been placated with another scan of the hall, though come to think of it, after Zelda had sent those two suspects packing, he'd been far too preoccupied with not getting himself arrested or kicked out to pay much attention to any suspicious actions from within the crammed crowd.
He begrudgingly rose to let his neighbour and a few others pass. He still had much to think over and as far as he was aware, he was not scheduled in for any duties this afternoon. Perhaps he would just wait for the room to clear…
"Hey, mind where you're going!" Another irritated snap from his neighbour, now halfway down the aisle to the entranceway drew Link's attention to considerable congestion and hubbub as the leaving nobles met a wave of townsfolk pushing up the aisle. Their cries and hollers quickly made their goal abundantly obvious. "Hey, we want to say the hero!" "Oh, Oh, Sir Link, Sir Link! May I…" "Hero of the Goddesses, Please…"
The Hero gaped in horror at this approaching tidal wave, his instinctual reaction to bolt only halted a mixture of mortification and his overzealous sense of obligation. He may hate it but the prospect of disappointing anyone had always struck him with such a profound sense of shame that he could rarely refuse a request, at least as long as it was polite.
Resignation turned to bemused gratitude as an unexpected saviour intervened. "Now that's enough!" Barked an imposing voice from behind. Wait, Lord Halshaw?! "I can understand your desires to meet the famed hero but that doesn't give you the right to act like a drunk rabble. Your acclimations already bordered on excessive during the ceremony! Now this? Pull yourselves together. This is a throne room, not some piss-stained public house! Show some decorum."
"But we want to meet…" several indignant protests started but were immediately cut off.
"And I'm sure you will meet him in future but not now. I currently require the hero for an urgent matter concerning the defence of the realm. Would you keep us from that?!"
There were many disgruntled mutterings but a few moments later they died and the crowd dispersed.
Link turned to Halshaw, who was still glaring, stony faced at the departing fan club. Despite his deep reluctance to engage with them, he couldn't help a sting of guilt at their despondency. "Rather harsh, don't you think?"
"It takes a firm hand to quell a mob. Would you have preferred I left them to you?"
"No. Thank you." He replied flatly.
"Yes… well… I do need to talk to you and time is short."
"Okay. What about?"
Halshaw merely shook his head and muttered. "Not here." he jabbed his head in the direction of one of the side doors and Link followed the noble out into a small dimly light side passage, his eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the relative gloom.
After a moment's pause, checking the corridor was clear of anyone else, Halshaw rounded on him. "What in the blazing fires of death mountain was that stunt in aid of?!" he hissed through gritted teeth.
"What stunt?!"
"The blade up your gauntlet! Others may not know what it was but I certainly didn't miss it, hanging like a flaccid prick. If you'd been caught with it, we'd both be locked up… or worse."
"What do you mean both?"
"Link, such things aren't exactly standard issue. I commissioned them myself. My bejewelled initials on the side should be rather a giveaway to that fact, especially to anyone investigating the incident of a man caught carrying it to meet her royal highness."
"Honestly, I hadn't noticed and it's not like you ever did me the courtesy of letting me know your first name…"
"Hmm, it's not generally considered proper to reveal to someone of your station, though given the recent elevation in yours… arguably overdue and earned… I suppose that's no longer the case." Hang on, was that meant to be a compliment? It was spoken with such begrudging resignation it was hard to tell whether it was genuine or a bitter jab. "… If you didn't hear it at the ceremony my first name is…"
"Julius. Yeah I heard but doesn't announcing full names at a ceremony render rules like "don't tell your first name to the peasants" pointless anyway."
"Yes, well. "Peasants" wouldn't normally be permitted to attend such events but her highness decided to waive that particular custom for the sake of "uniting the people". Whether it will have that desired effect… we shall see…" Halshaw's words on first inspection seemed to suggest derisive sarcasm, yet his tone was one of genuine worry. For himself… or for Zelda? Could he be reading that right? "Regardless, let's get back to the real issue; why were you carrying a weapon in your gauntlet."
"I was concerned for her highness's safety. I thought…"
"You thought perhaps Folsir was an assassin? Hmm, so what did you think he'd do? Offer her poisoned wine? Stab her? In full view of a thousand of her subjects?! While I am glad you haven't taken my prior warnings as lightly as her highness has, you're way off the mark."
"He was suspicious. How was I to know what he was up to?"
"You don't have to know what he's up to, to recognise the monumental stupidity of Reefa hiring him as an assassin! It may not be known by all at the court but there are more than enough who quietly suspect Folsir to be on Reefa's payroll. Can you imagine if her highness was harmed and Folsir was in any way implicated?"
"Yes, and I didn't know that. I'm not even a member of the court so how would I?"
There was a brief but nevertheless awkward silence and Halshaw grimaced. "Ah… *cough* … yes… Sorry. Given how much impact and discussion you garner in court… it can be easy to forget you're not a willing cog in the political machine."
"Well then why does my life and presence here the business of the court?" Link snapped. It was a rhetorical question, more an expression of his irritation than seeking an actual answer as he was pretty sure he knew. At the back of his mind though, there was a niggling doubt; a whisper which told him the reason for the court's fixation on him was rather more complicated.
Unfortunately, Halshaw didn't provide any clarity, as he batted the question aside. "A question for another time as mine here is short. As for Folsir, I don't know his specific goal or how he was to go about it but I can say with certainty it would have been an attack on reputation rather than body. The real question you should ask yourself is… who was the target?"
"You mean… it could have been me?"
"You? her? both? … difficult to say for sure. My point is you need to expand your sphere of suspicion and consider more than just direct attacks on her highness's person if you're to survive as royal shield."
"I think my "sphere" is wide enough thanks. Besides, why would you care about that?"
"Because I care about the safety and stability of this Kingdom. That's the reason I wanted to talk to you. Word on the grapevine is, you've been doing some investigating into the masked man. Got anywhere?"
The mention of the masked man put Link on high alert, particularly his investigation. He'd been trying to keep it quiet. "How do you know that?" he asked warily.
"You've been asking questions and the walls have ears. Word gets out and you haven't been exactly subtle in your approach. Regardless, do you have anything?"
"Just theories."
"Well, I too have theories and I would like to discuss them, but not here and not now."
Link was cautious to ask the obvious follow up of "where and when then?", as, to him at least, it was virtually accepting his ultimatum and, despite the nobleman's recent heroics, Lord Halshaw still inspired a simmering distrust. Whether it was deserved remained to be seen? Nevertheless, if he did have information it couldn't be ignored. "Alright then, when and where?"
Halshaw didn't answer, seemingly preoccupied with rummaging through his pockets. After a brief probe he pulled out… another ignis tube, identical in appearance to the one he gave Link… the very same that he'd been chastised for carrying not five minutes ago.
"Hey, you give me crap for carrying one and you were doing the same!"
"Hardly. Mine wasn't dangling from my gauntlet. Besides…" Halshaw said, producing a pipe from another pocket, his manner suddenly jarringly nonchalant. "I can't enjoy this without it. Do you smoke, Link?"
What was he up to? why the abrupt switch? "What?! No, no I don't. Why?"
"Well, it would give you a valid reason to carry one." Did he mean the pipe or the…? Then the answer clicked, just as the noble clicked open a second compartment of the ignis tube and sprinkled a fine layer of what smelt unmistakably like tabaco into the pipe before pounding it down with the perfectly sized tip. "Who knows, you may even enjoy it."
"I think I'll pass. I'd rather have as few vices as possible."
Halshaw chuckled wryly. "So, the great and virtuous hero admits to having vices? Good. Everyone needs vices to keep sane at the court. Just don't overindulge them." He was obviously alluding to his drinking but Link wasn't about to bring it up. He wanted answers, not a potential argument.
One answer arrived as, while Halshaw flipped the tube and, with practiced precision, added a tiny pinch of ignis powder, Link suddenly registered the rustle of a maids just down the passageway. He'd been so focused on deciphering the noble's motives, he'd completely missed that they had company. It explained the abrupt change in demeanour and subject. Ok, he'd play along. Still, on the topic at hand the ignis powder made no sense. "Um, you do know that won't light itself, right?"
"Of course."
"Well then why bother with the ignis powder when you'll still need a flame anyway to ignite it?"
The noble scoffed incredulously. "Pah, only an uncultured boor would suggest lighting a pipe with candles and such. Spoils the flavour something ghastly. No, how about I educate you in the true connoisseur's way to light a pipe. Add a small modicum of class to your commonness."
"Gee I'm honoured." Link drawled sarcastically.
"Don't get me wrong. You possess many admirable qualities but that doesn't excuse lacking a sense of class. Now here's a secret known to only the most sophisticated of smokers…" Halshaw replace the ignis tube with a tiny glass vial containing a thick yellowy liquid. "Tipseed Oil!" He proclaimed and added a single drop to the contents of the pipe, which immediately began to fizz and hiss, emitting a distinctive sweet aroma, a strange cross between burning wood and… sugar?! "It enhances the flavour immensely but be careful. Too much of either the ignis or the Tipseed and it will blow your head off…" There was a loud crack, the pipe sparked into life and the maid down the corridor gave a startled shriek and fled. Halshaw barely batted an eye as he continued. "… Literally. Oh, and it has to be high-grade Ignis Powder. Not the cheap junk they sell in the markets."
"Why, is it not cultured enough?"
Halshaw ignored his barbed comment. "No, it simply doesn't react to Tipseed. Now…" He paused to scan the corridor. "… how about we get back to our little meeting? On Thursday evening, meet me in the east wing drawing room at midnight."
Was this some sort of code? "The east wing doesn't have a drawing room."
"Not here! At Leguna Mansion."
The estate of Lord Fairclough?! "What? Why there?"
"Didn't the princess tell you?" Halshaw seemed genuinely surprised at his ignorance.
"Tell me what?!" Link snapped, exasperated at being kept in the dark.
"So, she failed to mention that on Tuesday the royal entourage along with the entire council will be paying a visit to Kakariko Village to observe the progress of Lord Fairclough's ambitious rejuvenation and expansion plan and while be guests of his estate for the following week?"
No, she hadn't, probably because she knew, just like with his medal, he'd protest. Damn it! How could she be so reckless?! He shook his head.
Halshaw tutted, taking a pensive drag from his pipe. "Strange?... Regardless all I need to know from you is that you'll be there."
Did he trust Halshaw enough? "Hmm, if you have information, I'll be there." He muttered.
"Good. Well then remember what I told you and ensure this remains a secret. I think you understand what's at stake…" He turned and strode to the door back to the throne room, only to hesitate as he reached for the handle. He glanced back over his shoulder. "Oh, and I should have probably said this earlier but, uuummm… congratulations on your promotion and your medal. You deserve it."
"Likewise." Link replied awkwardly.
The noble muttered something under his breath, which sounded like "maybe" before slipping out quietly into the bright light of the throne room.
Link stayed in the gloom, mind in turmoil. Had he made the right call? What information could Halshaw possibly have? And this had to turn up after all the other unsettling, embarrassing and confusing events the day had thrown at him; scaring the maid, Shadow Midna, Folsir and Reefa's mysterious scheme, Zelda's unorthodox diversions, his many potential faux pas during his oath and, last but not least, his unexpected medal.
Well at least he had the rest of the day off. He needed to get back to his room and straighten out his thoughts, read his notes… possibly dive back into those books on the supernatural. Damn it, they were already packed in preparation for his move. Captainship alone came with new quarters but with the title of Royal Shield he was about to move into the realms of "almost" luxury.
Ok, just add that to the list of things to dwell on back it the barracks. He slid back into the afternoon sunshine of the cavernous throne room, marvelled fleetingly at the majestic architecture and then turned to the grand entrance. Time to go…
"Sir Link! Sir Link!" called a very recognisable, every effervescent female voice.
Oh, please goddesses have mercy and give me a break!
He turned to the inevitable sight of Neela scurrying up to him, swishing skirts in hand. "I've been looking everywhere for you. The princess… would like a word."
Of course she would!