The Downfall Timeline
Book 1
Chapter 14: Preparations

Late Morning, January 24, 610 GK, The War of Imprisonment, Day 192

Hylian Army Camp, Lake Hylia

The rush to gather weapons and provisions gave Link a sense of exhilaration and hope that he had not felt since Ganondorf's attack. Finally, he was going to leave the lake! Finally, he was going to do something meaningful! As they quickly left the Temple of Water and made their way back to their tents, Alfon directed his squire to dress differently for this mission.

"Go and find your old tunic and cap. Pull it over your armor – we cannot have any glint of steel on this mission!" he commanded.

"Yes, my lord." He answered, dashing ahead to his own tent.

For himself, the marshal removed his shining hylian plate and donned a subdued coat of mail, a dark, charcoal tunic, and a fur-lined heavy black cloak. The squire quickly retrieved his old Kokiri tunic and pulled it over his head. It felt a little tighter than he remembered and did not seem to reach as far down his body as it used to.

He dismissed this as being due to his mail and pulled his dark green cap over his hair. Link's baldric and sword followed along with his adventurer's pack at his hip. Finally throwing his own dark brown cloak around his shoulders, the boy rushed back out to meet his master near the stables.

He met his master as he came walking out of the stable house, carrying several large saddle bags.

"Take these to the quartermaster." He instructed, "I want a week's rations for four men. Understood?"

"Completely, my lord." The squire answered, taking the heavy bags and draping them over his own shoulders.

"We will also need flint, tinder, bandages, spare garments, wet stones, a least two large bundles of arrows, survival packs, mess kits…" the marshal trailed off has his ward's face grew worrisome at the long list to remember, "Just tell him that we need 'everything for a week's reconnaissance patrol' – he'll know what to do."

Link quickly trotted off to the quartermaster's tent while Alfon prepared three horses for their journey. After he was out of sight, Captain Corin – who by this time had shed much of his doughy weight and looked much more like a veteran soldier – spotted his marshal preparing to leave and approached him.

"Hail, my lord! Going on another patrol?" He asked with a bright smile and a springing step.

"Yes," grunted Alfon in reply – not wanting to give away any details of his mission.

"Ah, good!" continued Corin, with his walrus like moustache stretching wider with his growing smile, "May I join you, my lord? I have not been afield for some time."

The marshal glanced back at the militia captain with a disbelieving eye. Corin was a good man – a reliable man – when it came to matters in-camp. But his quick smiles and bouncy demeanor seemed better suited for a village mayor, rather than a hardened soldier. Combined with his advancing age, these facts left the commander doubting in his abilities.

"Sorry Corin," he answered as he turned back to his horse, "Long patrol this time. Only a small squad. I need you to remain here and watch over the camp."

His moustache quickly wilted and drooped into a disappointed frown.

"O-of course… at your pleasure, my lord." He replied, "B-but, if it please you sir, I really have been itching to get-" but Alfon quickly cut him off,

"If you wish to help Corin, then please, go and find Russel and Viscern! I will be needing their skills for this patrol."

Lacking the nerve to debate with his marshal, the old soldier obediently bowed and trudged off through the camp, looking for Alfon's men. Several minutes later, Link returned – bowed under the weight of the now laden saddle bags.

"Good lad. Hand those here. Now, get yourself over to the smith and find a suitable shield. If he gives you any grief, just tell him it's a command from me." cheered his master.

The squire nodded and dashed away again as two new faces appeared from around the stable.

The pair were an odd match. The first was a tall, slender man with sun-faded blonde hair while the other was shorter, more heavily built, and bore a steel-grey beard below a shaved head. Viscern, the taller, was still rather young for a captain – only twenty-seven. Russel, however was much older - though he refused to tell anyone his real age, all could guess he was in his late forties.

"Hail, my lord" the younger greeted, while the elder simply grunted and nodded his head to Alfon.

"There you are." The marshal replied, "Gear up for hunting, but tell no one that you are leaving!"

"Hunting m'lord?" Russel echoed with a grin.

"Well, maybe some brawling too." Alfon replied, matching his grin.

"Hunting for brawls! Ah-ha! My favorite!" the captain cheered as he quickly trudged his way to his own tent.

Viscern remained behind. His face was relaxed -showing no emotion- but his sharp eyes quickly scanned the marshal's appearance.

"It must be an important mission, my lord, for you to travel 'in disguise' like this." He said, softly.

"Not disguise, discretion." Murmured the knight in return. "I cannot tell you where we are going until we are away from the lake, but we will need stealth. Make sure Russel knows this."

As the graceful scout strode away after his friend, Link returned once more to his master's side bearing a new shield – a twin of the one he had lost at the gate.

"You will ride behind me on my horse. Wrap yourself in my cloak, so that you are not spotted." Commanded his master.

The boy was so excited for his first mission, he did not mind being concealed beneath Alfon's cloak.

"At least I won't be in the wind!" he thought to himself as his master pulled him up onto his horse.

Within a few moments, the marshal's two men returned wearing similar clothing to his lordship. Link had never met these men before and shied away from Russel's fierce scowl.

"The pup?!" be barked to Alfon as he rudely pointed at the squire.

"Just get on your horse Russel." Replied the knight, with a hard look.

The grizzled veteran glared at the boy for a few more moments, before growling under his breath, and mounting his horse.

The four lazily made their way across the camp, not wanting to attract attention.

As they moved, Link quietly whispered to his master, "Why didn't you tell them we were heading to the ranch?"

Alfon took a few careful glances around before whispering in return, "There are spies everywhere son. There will only be four of us and we cannot afford letting the enemy know that we're coming."

The boy was downcast about the idea of one of their own betraying them. Ganon and his minions were absolute evil, how could anyone willingly serve them?

"It happens in every war – spies, mutineers, traitors – don't let it surprise you when it happens." His master finished quietly.

When they reached the edge of the camp and turned up the lake road towards the gate, Telma swiftly strode up behind them in the snow and called to their commander. She was dressed in an elegant black gown with a warm fur-lined coat wrapped around her shoulders. Despite the many layers, she still somehow managed to show off her feminine curves – making no attempt whatsoever to conceal her stately bust from the cold wind.

When she called to him a second time, Alfon brought his horse to a halt and muttered under his breath, "A curse upon the man who told her!" Then, turning back in the saddle to look at her answered, "Yes? My lady."

The beautiful maiden lifted the hem of her skirt and quickly trotted the last few steps until she stood beside his horse.

"You're leaving again! Without saying a word?!" she scolded playfully – but Link could see the worry in her eyes, peeking out from behind his master's cloak.

"A soldier cannot always be beholden to his maiden at home. He has a duty." Alfon told her, trying to discreetly pull at his cloak and better-conceal Link behind him.

But her eyes were far too quick, and she spotted the boy peeking out at her behind his master's back.

"Oh- ABSOLUTELY NOT!" She shrieked, throwing back his cape and tearing Link down from the horse.

"How could you?!" she cried, pulling him tightly against her body again, "He's still injured! A-and he's far too young for what's out there!"

Russel and Viscern both rolled their eyes, but respectfully said nothing as Alfon's face turned a deep scarlet red.

"Unhand my squire woman!" he growled darkly at her, "We have a mission to accomplish and the boy must go with us!"

Tears began streaming down her cheeks -ruining her makeup- as Telma took a small step back away from him and pitifully shook her head "no." The marshal quickly dismounted and stepped right up to her.

"You will not disobey me Telma! And you will not speak of anything you have seen here to anyone until we have returned!"

Link continued to squirm and pull at her hands to escape, but even he could feel the power that Alfon held over her. Her hands began to shake and her fingers loosened, until he was finally able to tear himself free.

Dashing to his master's side, the squire turned an angry eye back up at her. She had no idea what he had survived already and how many fearsome monsters he had defeated. Her "protection" was unnecessary and made him feel like a child!

With quivering lips, Telma reached up and began to run her fingers over the clasp that held Alfon's cloak around his shoulders.

"Y-you're not wearing your armor, my lord… you won't… be safe." She whimpered softly.

He reached up and softly pushed her hands away from him.

"War is never safe, Telma. Even for marshals." He replied quietly.

"B-but… you will return… w-won't you, my lord?" her voice was barely a whisper.

Her handsome knight drew a deep breath and sighed – straightening up to his full height and pushing his shoulders back.

He looked down into her soft, amber eyes and answered, "A soldier must be prepared to not return, if the goddess calls to him."

A small sob escaped her lips and her voice broke, "Alfon… no!"

They stood for a few moments in silence, gazing into each other's eyes. They could not kiss, or even embrace here – it would not be appropriate for his lordship to be seen that way. But he gently held her cheek with one hand and wiped the tears from her eyes.

When the pain become too great, he quietly whispered, "I have to go now Telma." And remounted his horse.

Link waited for him, then moved to climb up behind his saddle, but was seized once more by his 'adopted mother's' hands. A flurry of tight embraces and tear-stained kisses followed as the poor boy was shaken like a doll.

"YOU! You have to promise me that you're coming back little man!" she cried, "I couldn't live if anything happened to you!"

Russell and Viscern were quickly breaking as snorts and coughs of laughter could be heard as they tried to cover their mouths.

The marshal gave her only a brief moment to say goodbye to Link before saying, "Telma" in a deep voice.

Three more kisses: one for each cheek and the squire's forehead followed, before she reluctantly released him.

"Y-you take care now!" she ordered, as the boy quickly scrambled up behind his master again, "And don't you dare come back without him!" she finished, motioning to her knight.

With once final glance to his maiden, Alfon ordered, "Move on." To his men, and the four resumed their journey.

"Damned men!" Telma called after them, "Why can't you just stay home with the women and be safe?!"

The guards at the outer watchtowers swiftly threw open the gates and saluted their marshal as he passed.

Once on the open plain, the great knight let out a deep sigh and looked at his friends, "The women we leave at home hm?" he asked with a half-hearted laugh.

Russel and Viscern both chuckled and nodded in agreement, but Link was still angry at how she treated him like a child. A few moments later, Viscern came alongside their horse and tapped the squire on the shoulder.

"Hey there, you've uh… you've got something on…" he said to Link as he tapped one finger upon his own forehead.

The boy brushed his hand over his brow and looked down. His fingers were now covered in Telma's crimson lipstick.

The men roared with laughter at his sudden realization that his face must be covered in her makeup and scrubbed furiously at his own cheeks.