"Halt! State your company and your business!" cried a voice like the clang of an iron anvil that rang through the dale surrounding Farmington, stopping the approach of the caravan. Dust hung like low, brown clouds in an extraordinary cessation of the wind.
The brawny man on a reddish horse with a black mane and tail rode forward and bellowed back, "Talon Lon of the Lon Clan and Ranch, Headman, Patriarch and Owner of the Central Territory of Hyrule Field. We're on the Annual Tribute."
"Ah, yes! We've been expecting you," the unseen voice recited. They had been, after all, but the announcement made it Official. "Please, hold your progress and goods while we prepare the gates and your route."
"Thank you, Jessel," Talon called out, much less Officially than before.
"No problem, Talon," An almond shaped head popped up from behind the palisade timbers and a dainty hand waved amiably.
Talon returned to his family and their vehicle, chuckling to himself. "They found the right job for her, alright."
Even Ingo smiled, a rare enough event that Link noticed. "She sounds more like a man every year." No venom or sarcasm accompanied his words, especially unusual for the man riding a honey-colored mare.
"That voice is a woman's?" Link goggled at the top of the wall, watching for a glimpse of the enigmatic speaker. "How is that possible? Mullick told me soldiers are men." The boy did not have a place at the meeting, and left Link for his family soon after breakfast.
"She's a Sergeant in the Armed Guard," Malon told him while they waited. Their group was on horseback, except for Gerick, who was going to pilot the Lon's lead wagon to the top of the hill to the Offices of Farmington. "And it's not that women can't be soldiers, but most of the women who enter the Service end up as Healers or Barrack Wives. Jesselia worked her way through whatever training the Commanders could come up with, all the while shouting down anyone with one iota less confidence than her." Her lips twisted in respectful amusement. "She proved she was worthy of the men's respect, and they made her a Sergeant. She also gets to train the new soldiers and yell them into total submission and loyalty. Her voice is so powerful and raw that they say she crumbled enemy walls with a battle cry."
"Sounds like my kinda woman," Navi admired stoutly.
"You'll have to wrestle her wife for her," Gerick quipped.
"Her wife!" Romance, for the most part, was only starting to dawn on Link.
"What could they do to prevent her from nabbing the prettiest face in Farmington?" Gerick was ooching on the hard wooden bench of the driver's seat, but his story flowed regardless. "By the time they discovered Jessel and Agitha were in love, they had been sneaking around for years. Those in charge disapproved, and tried to put them both under house arrest for some kind of heresy. Jessel, shrew that she is, pressed her influence against the Officers to sanctify their bond, gender or no. Jessel had already proved being considered 'weak and female' was worthless in the Armed Guard. She fought in the war, and came home alive with more than some of the dead. She defended her country with valor, and was owed for her sacrifice. Marriage and an estate is a soldier's right, and she earned both. A week after the house arrest, Major Amsterron oversaw the wedding of Jesselia and Agitha to make sure his favorite Sergeant was kept happy. An unhappy soldier is a rebellious one, he said, and put a little more sense into those Officer's heads. Oh, the Major and Jessel always had an understanding, even during her training." Malon elaborated. "There were suspicions, but he knew her nature immediately, and he helped her when few others would."
It seems promising, Link thought to Navi, though the nuances of romance were lost on him. Open-minded townies should have an even more understanding stance on our Lore, he reasoned.
"I, for one, am going to keep our options realistic. If the Major himself had to be at the wedding to make sure it happened, there was more going on than we realize. Jessel is probably an exception in a long line of conservative decisions."
We'll see, won't we? Maybe I'll be an exception again.
"I hope you won't have to be," Navi commented negatively. "All that should happen is a dinner, a chance to tell our side of the story, a little call and answer questioning, and bedtime. We'll leave tomorrow, and be on our way to the Caravan Flats."
"Make way, make way, clear out!" shouted Jessel's somehow perceptively female voice. Now that Link knew the story, he would always hear that slightly higher tenor, and found himself excited to meet someone new. The outer wall of the town was splitting open, and the teams in front proceeded to trundle through the gate. The smell struck Link in the face once they were inside. Even though the Lons were smelly in their horesy-dusty way, the odor of a town was much more concentrated within the walls. Link's nose wrinkled at the stench of society, but became aware none of his companions seemed to be bothered by the reek of people and their byproducts.
"You're used to smelling everything that comes on the wind, you know," Navi supplemented. "Smells told you if it was safe or questionable outside your thicket."
Yes, but-
"The Lons are also used to smelling towns. This is a prairie town, and considered cleaner than the Market's city. So if they go to Market every year, and can stand that odor, Farmington must be pretty fresh-scented."
The buildings nearest the gate were the soldier's homes-called barracks, he would learn later-boxy and neat, stacked on top of one another in cascading rows along paved paths. Garbage in varying states of decay sat in the ruts beside the avenue where water pooled. Or rather, Link corrected, waste bins and night buckets were poured out the front door as demonstrated by a native woman in a grungy apron. He was appalled at the lack of hygiene and consideration for passersby. Most of the refuse sat outside the path most traveled, though unidentifiable chunks were being ground underfoot. To distract himself from the smell, Link breathed deeply through his mouth and studied the rest of the teeming town. The outer wall hugged the expanse of buildings, leaving a wide buffer between the wall and the first row of houses. He couldn't see much else of the inner structure for now, and he marveled at the amount of stone that was laid out in a luxurious square to meet visitors. Set against the hill and the edifices mounting it, more ornate dwellings were nestled along the gray stone streets that led the way deep into town.
"Is everyone coming in?" Link, riding Epona, questioned the redhead on her matching horse.
"Yes, they have space for us inside the walls. We'll stay at the State House, but aside from Clan Leaders, the rest will sleep in the wagons." She paused, then laughed. "The cows and most of the hands will stay outside, though."
"Oh. Why do we have to sleep there, and not with the Clan?"
"Because it's an honor," Malon answered calmly, even though guards were starting to stare at the foreigner. "It's not often we come this way to Market, so to keep our ties with Farmington secure, we stay and pay homage to their successes, and promise our own investment."
The scrutiny of the armed forces did not go unnoticed by the fierce-eyed youth. Every look was met with mysterious confidence, the brand Saria herself would exhibit during Disputes or Ceremonies. He held his chin high, but not arrogantly or threateningly, just enough to dispel the air of inexperience. His survivalism played a part in the attitude, too. He knew how to live outside the comforts of a town, while most of those who lived in the town did not, and he used that to put Mido pride in his shoulders, careful not to cross the line of disdain. He also learned from Talon the benefits of affability, and playful winsomeness from Malon, but these traits were sitting in his belly, waiting until conversation brought a use for them.
Grown soldiers were fully involved in the entrance of the visiting Lon Clan, clearing away the townspeople for the progress of the horses, greeting old friends or directing the balance of wagons to the open areas by the palisade, but none could ignore the purported forest-child in their presence. There was no question this morning when he chose to wear the embroidered silk tunic and dark belt and the sword in its case on his back. Link heard the words, "Green" and "Fairy" more than once, and each time he gazed directly at one of the men, they were already glancing away. To a boy raised and initiated by the procedure, he let a wolfish smile overtake his mysterious expression.
People are so predictable, Link muttered to Navi.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Mr. Exception," she returned evenly. "Here comes a surprise."
"Talon! Ingo! You old codgers, how've you been?" barked Jessel when she climbed from her observation tower. As she sashayed towards the bulls, Link wondered at how this willow of a woman could be a soldier, imagining her delicate hands holding the ubiquitous needlepoint of Lon ranch-wives, but her ease with the blade secured at her side interrupted that dream. She removed her helmet to properly greet her old friends, and revealed a shock of sunny locks cut above her long ears in plain soldier fashion. Jessel hugged Talon after he and his brother dismounted, and then embraced Ingo fiercely. The man melted for a moment, allowing for a hard squeeze before backing away again. In turn, she and Malon slapped together their right palms. Finally, Jessel saw the mounted stranger. She took stock of him, scanning from head to toe, eyes lingering at his face. "So this is the Emissary of Kokiri. You look older than I thought you'd be." He could hear the Lon accent in her voice now, deciding the nasal drawl must be unique to the Central Territory.
"I am a Child of the Forest, but by birth, I am a Hylian, so I will grow older in the normal fashion," Link informed Jessel. "It's a long story, and one I hope to share with you. Malon tells me there's a dinner for us. Will you be there?"
Immediately, here eyes took a fire to them. Jesselia was intensely intrigued about this boy who was sparking rumors like lightning in dry grass, and here he was, and inviting her, a low-level officer to the banquet of the stuffy Officials and Lons. She couldn't promise, and her eyes found Talon. She smiled and asked, "Do you know what you've come to town with?"
"Yes." He refused to give anything else.
"Think you could sneak me in?"
"An Emissary shouldn't be without some sort of protection. As Sergeant, would you volunteer your service?" Talon offered offhandedly, though Link was aware the deal was deadly serious. He wondered why. Why the need for all of this dancing? Did having that many people living in one place really require so much zigzagging around a plainly open subject? There was subtlety to the Kokiri, but this was on a whole new scale. Maybe living in a town was Lore unto itself.
"Absolutely. There have been recent raids at the border town, and a personal guard would not be ill-advised," Jessel gave Link a wink. "An unusual servant for the first visiting Kokiri. You'll make an impression."
"Thank you," he said, unsure what else may have been appropriate.
"Well, my men can settle your people in safely," she told Malon. "We can go ahead to the State House, if you're ready, and before those Officials pop the buttons off their robes in anticipation."
"I think we are. And we've missed an introduction," Navi said as she floated towards Jessel. "I'm Navi, Link's fairy companion. Surely you've at least heard every Kokiri has one."
"Yes indeed, Miss Navi. I'm Sergeant Jesselia of Farmington. It's a pleasure to see myth come to life."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Navi chirped, liking the blunt woman before her.
"Good. I'm certain I meant it as one," Jessel teased. And then, as one of her soldiers got pushy with an uppity townie, her eyes narrowed, and she screeched in contrast, "Condrel! No force! And you ma'am, keep back from the procession! If they want to trade, they'll invite you, got that? Condrel!"
"Yes sir!"
"If I catch you pushing another unarmed woman again, I will nail your helmet to your thick head! Got that?" She threw in a menacing growl as the soldier stammered. "Repeat that?"
"S-sir, she was trying to get to the Emissary! Sir!"
"Oh?" Jessel walked crisply to the offending woman. She had her eyes closed, and swayed on the spot. "What do you want with him? I'm his personal guard, so anyone will go through me first."
She was not wrinkled in age, or weathered by the sun, pale in comparison to those around her, and still, she rocked to a rhythm only she could feel. Then, her eyes snapped open, and her irises were an electric navy, staring intently at one another in the fool's broken gaze.
"The dark clouds covered the land, laying heavy and low! But behold, the light from the east that drives back the storm! It is He, it is He!" She stood rigid, pointing to Link on Epona, grinning without joy. "Holding the green and shining stone! Collect three and collect their Destiny! The dark clouds…" And she repeated her message, again and then a third time to the discomfort of the sane, spittle rolling down her chin.
"Listen, lady, you're in distress-" Jessel reached a hand for her shoulder to quiet that disquieting message, but the woman howled at the touch as if her body were breaking and staggered. She wheezed and at last collapsed to the dirt. "Hey! Lady!" Jessel turned her over, supporting the limp neck, and yet, Link saw the Sergeant's jutting chin and clenched jaw, annoyed at something. The raver's eyes fluttered open and she took a deep breath. Her eyes were a more common gray, and uncrossed.
"I…" She mewled, tears gathering. "I've been Visited! I must go to the Temple! She came to me, and I Spoke! Oh, I must go to Market, and give myself to the Temple of Time! Oh, Sergeant, I've-"
"I heard, but I don't necessarily believe it," she said without compunction, perfunctorily helping the woman to her unsteady feet. "You were just delirious, excited by the crowd, or something."
"You don't believe in Them, do you, Sergeant? They love you, you know. Look at your strength. Thank Din, for she is the source of Power-" the woman began, sounding eerily to Link like Sterling's rhetoric, which he overheard when Navi thought he couldn't. He knew a lot more than she thought.
"Do as you will, lady, but we have an appointment with the Officers. Get some rest, and be peaceful," Jessel offered as goodbye, and led the ten riders and the Patriarch's wagon up the gentle slopes of Farmington.
Pushing Epona forward, Link stammered, "Uh, Jes- Sergeant?"
Her brown eyes flicked at him, though she stared straight ahead. "Yes?"
"Um. What was that? What was she doing?"
Jessel frowned and came closer. The sergeant sighed, "She was a scammer, trying to drum up new Temple-goers. It's a big deal that you've decided to stop here on your way to see the Royal Family, and I'm sure she was waiting for an opportunity like that. I'd like to know how she did the trick with her eyes, though."
Link nodded, his question answered, as they rode past the clusters of the lowest hovels. There was evidence of some repairs, noting the lack of new materials for the buildings, patched with graying wood, and not the fresh yellow of cut timbers, but the condition wasn't truly apparent to him. He was stoic, trying to recreate his confidence, but the woman's words were annoyingly echoing around his brain like a chant.
"Dark clouds, light from the east! It is He!" What does that even mean? He came from the east, but what could those dark clouds be? He thought he might remember a dream about clouds, and eyes. Or was it an ocean? He would have to think about it later on, as they were entering an avenue up the hill that was overshadowed by narrow townhouses, and people were jammed shoulder to shoulder. They awaited the convoy of the neighboring, but nevertheless exciting Lon Ranchers, and their unusual guest, the Emissary of Kokiri.
"It's the Emissary! Look, he's one of them kids! Wow, he's wild! He must be!" Link also heard comments about paint, and "green" raced ahead of them, patrons throwing the word like a ball. The pageant of spectators was as interesting to him as he to them. The Lon Clan offered a lot of variety, as far as body types went, but fashion was invariably serviceable and decorated. The women and men of the cities were trussed up, laced in, pushed upward and inward, feet were stuffed in dainty patent leathers, heels were raised to ridiculous levels, and clashing neon colors draped the scenery in an affront to natural hues. Receptions ranged from polite applause and enthusiastic curiosity to hisses and boo, shooing the Stalchild back to where he came from. Those patrons were actively ignored; the rest of the crowd relished a break from the normal buying and selling of the daily round, and nothing too out of the ordinary had happened. While news of the Visited woman was spreading, the event was too new to have bearing on the mere arrival of the Emissary. The Officers would pass judgment, if necessary. The townspeople trusted their leaders.
To occupy his hands, Link squeezed and released Epona's reins, twisting the leather straps as he followed the briskly moving Sergeant, Talon and his highest-ranked Clansmen. For almost one moon cycle, they had ridden beside the Kokiri, taught him the ways of a rancher, how to handle horses, care for cattle and introduced him to dozens of new industries. Semer Lon, Head of the Horse Clan, gave him the miniaturized set of reins, Link reflected as he watched him shake his mane-like scalp lock in time with his own horse. And Gellum Lon with his bull-twisted leg, the Head of the Cattle Clan, let Link try cracking a whip, though he hadn't gotten the hang of it, and more recently, lost a son of his relatives. Alta Tanner was part of the Cattle side of the family, and Link had to swallow at the memory of the sudden death.
Following Link, Ingo and Malon and Gerick's wagon were Arbido Breaker and Jim Steader, the Heads of the Summer and Winter Clans, divided into those who made crafts in Cottonwood Camp during the warm season, and those who stayed at Homestead for their work. Jim's wife, Cella, and Link hit it off immediately as she could give names to the plants Link didn't recognize, and by extension, her husband got a few impromptu lessons on the native foliage. Arbido was a close friend of Talon's, and had a charm for the four-legged mounts. He was the one to "break" a stallion, a man who could ride a horse that had no inclination to comply and render him a docile pack animal. Link once watched him tickle Epona's chin and check her vitals in those few seconds, lifting lips and lids and palming her velvet nose. Then he congratulated Link on his first Bond. When he asked what that was, Arbido responded tenderly that it was the pacific relationship between a rider and his mount, where understanding flowed despite a lack of speaking. Link held the wiry man in great esteem.
At the end of the procession on a haughty bay horse was Sterling Clothman, the priest, Link learned he was known formally as one of The Practicing, having performed in Service of the Goddesses for over twenty years. Alphonse at Homestead was a Scholar, in service for forty-two years. The preacher that rode with the traveling Clan kept a close watch on Link, thinking no one noticed his subtle observation of the foreigner, except the canny fairy floating at the boy's shoulder. Navi wanted Link sheltered from Sterling's fervor for the Divine, unwilling to let anyone other than herself to rock every one of her friend's beliefs in his own time. This trip to the State House had made the preacher unusually zealous for the past few days, and the sprite was absolutely positive he was going to try something along the lines of the "Visited Woman."
Do you think he'd be that bold in front of Talon? Link questioned silently in response to her very loud mental musings. The scammer didn't care, but Sterling is part of the Clan.
She glared at the silver coifed man waving piously. "I'd dare him to do it, but I don't want to take that chance. I'll just have to be careful. You and I must work together to make these people understand. I think we've succeeded fairly well with most of the Lons. None of them openly call you 'Forest Devil' anymore."
Didn't you hear that guy back there? Link deigned to wave at a young woman and her infant as she hooted her welcome.
"We're nearly at the top of the Hill. We haven't had enough time to change minds," She responded in a moot tone.
Atop the bump on the prairie were a cluster of interesting buildings, bigger than any others surrounding them, each bearing carved eaves and fancy scrollwork, as if their size wasn't enough to display their importance. Roosting doves and pigeons added their own natural decorations, and the swatches of evacuations made Link smile. Nature still had a hold on these people.
The view between houses wasn't bad, either. From their position, Link and Navi could survey the rolling swells of Hyrule's plain for leagues before the world curved away at the edges. Rooftops and eaves were poor substitutes for sheltering trees in this dimension of straight lines, flat spaces and sculpted, symmetrical beauty. Still, the obstructed view did provide a feeling of security that he did not experience beneath all that blue sky. The wind was still unmoving, and a bead of sweat crawled from his temple to his chin.
Awaiting the procession in front of the Offices, an assembly of robed men in rich colors stood apart from the crowd. The Lons, Sergeant Jessel and the wagon crossed the final row of houses and came into an open square before the Officers and their respective State Houses. The crowd surged behind the parade and filled in the exit of the upper plaza.
"Welcome, welcome Leaders of the Lon Clan!" decreed a portly little man with a red nose and a stovepipe hat of green velvet. A single pink gerbera was pinned to the brim. He stepped forward and placed a hand over his heart. "And on behalf of Farmington and the North Central Territory of Hyrule, I, Mayor Bipson, welcome the Kokiri Emissary!" He fluttered his pudgy little hands towards Link. "For the first time in our age, one of the Children of Farore has come out of hiding. We look forward to hearing tales of the Eastern Wilderness of Hyrule!" There was a hearty round of rousting shouts and applause.
Link was steaming silently, wringing the reins now. Maybe to them, it was an undecipherable wilderness, and they certainly loved attributing his survival to a spirit he had no way of knowing, but they would know soon enough.
"Thank you, Mayor Bipson," Talon responded as the crowd behind them quieted. "This young man has lived a thoroughly interesting life in the East-" And he left it at that, to Link's satisfaction. "He and his companion, Navi, are eager to relate their Lore to any and all who will listen." Another bout of cheering punctuated Talon's simple speech.
"See? Not so hard, is it?" Navi poked.
Not yet.
"…I know. They've already thrown Farore at us."
They like her more than Din, Link gathered.
"Well, there's that, huh?" Navi sighed, and Link wanted to laugh out loud.
He held it back as the Mayor and his familiars turned their rainbow of gazes upon him and the fairy. Link's mouth went dry, and with a swallow, he managed to rasp, "I thank you for your welcome. As Talon says, I would be obliged to share my knowledge of the Forest of Children." There, he could play those games, too, and he jumped a little when the throng behind him applauded again.
"Ah! And we are so delighted," the Mayor bobbed and clapped twice. "But you must be weary of travel. Come, stay the night and take rest in our domain." He invited the neighbors and visitors with a wide, expansive gesture towards the garish State House, and the adjacent Temple. "We have even taken the liberty of refurbishing a shrine within our Temple to Farore!"
Link and Navi had to look at one another, faces carefully neutral, and turning back to the Officials, the fairy said, "I'm sure She will appreciate it."
"Surely, since visitors have been making offerings and tributes all week, since we heard you would be visiting," The speaker was a man with a line of facial hair that wound around his mouth, like long bird wings that originated at his nose, and his navy robe designated him as one of those dedicated to the Temple. "Farore must be smiling on Nayru's own children." He cleared his throat. "I am Goriyo Clothman, High Elder of the Farmington Temple of the Goddesses."
"We greet you," Link answered for himself and Navi. She dipped in acknowledgment.
"Shall we proceed inside, where we can take drink and make proper introductions?" Bipson demanded cordially, bowing and extending his arm toward his home. People began clapping, and the welcome exploded into a crescendo of noise that shook Link to his core.
Talon took initiative and dismounted his horse, the Leaders mimicking the example, and a youngster rushed to take the reins and stow the horses in some discreet stable. Malon and Jessel stuck close to Link when they traversed the square. There seemed to be some silent peace between the three of them, even with the wilding audience, and Link felt his nervousness mounting, despite the reassuring presence of his protectors. All this talk of the Divines harkened back to his first hearing of the Creation story in Talon's tent, where his comfortable Kokiri-world-view was confronted by a completely alien Lore. Sterling was easily avoided, and he thought for those precious three weeks that he would be able to ignore this Hylian idiosyncrasy. A stray tendril of a breeze brushed his cheek, and he saw the steeple of Farmington's Temple. Link's heart sank. The obvious esteem for those in navy robes was going to make it very difficult for him and Navi to change popular opinion about who, or what, the Kokiri worshipped, if it was achievable at all. The doors of the Mayor's State House creaked open, and Link, hesitating a beat, walked through the entrance of a new, unexplored possibility.
