Chapter 57: The Skies Darken

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Note: Some horse-vocabulary terms occur in this chapter. "Buckskin" refers to a horse with a pale golden coat and dark mane and tail, often with a dorsal stripe. I wish they appeared in game! "Piebald" refers to a black-and-white paint horse, i.e., a horse with very large spots. Black-and-white paint horses do appear in game, but I find it unfortunate that they and other multi-colored horses have worse stats, since they're among my favorite horse colorings. If you're a horse enthusiast, look up "Gypsy Vanner Horse" to see my absolute favorite breed!

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"Goddesses - he's huge!"

Zelda stared at Timber with wide eyes, and Link looked on from around the pile of tack in his arms, fighting not to laugh. Timber regarded her with the same friendly curiosity Link had noticed on his first visit; his nostrils flared as he took in Zelda's scent, and his furry ears swivelled forward attentively.

Link couldn't hold back a chuckle, adjusting his hold around Timber's gear. "He likes you," he grunted, stepping nearer and heaving the tack up across the side of the stall.

Zelda's gaze drifted down to Timber's hooves and paled. Slowly she backed away. "He's - he's not an angry horse, is he?" she gulped. "He won't - go on a rampage, or anything like that?"

The idea of Timber getting mad at anything forced another laugh out from Link's mouth as he walked up to his new horse with a brush and curry comb, starting the tedious process of getting him ready - and helping with the removal of the thick layers of his winter coat beginning to shed. "I doubt he has a single angry bone in his body," he called over his shoulder, rubbing the curry comb in firm circles over Timber's sturdy neck. "He's got to be the mildest horse I've ever come across. Just a gentle giant - like Daruk. Daruk if he was less excitable. And a horse."

Zelda giggled. "If you say so," she smiled nervously, once more holding out her hand for Timber to sniff.

For the first time Link could remember, he needed help saddling a horse; Timber was such a big animal that he couldn't reach all the way beneath him to buckle the girth strap. The past few times he'd ridden Timber, it had been bareback, since there wasn't anyone else around that he could think of to ask for assistance. Zelda, still keeping a wary eye on Timber's hooves, had to pass the girth strap under his belly to him. And even then, Link struggled pulling the strap securely through its buckles around the massive horse's chest. Dusty, sweaty, and covered in bits and pieces of Timber's winter coat, they at last managed to finish preparing him for the journey and made their way deeper into the stables to Dinraal's stall.

Link felt pride puff his chest as he saw how Dinraal, once so ornery and bad-tempered, pricked his ears forward and nickered softly at the Princess' approach. And how Zelda, in turn, smiled widely when she saw him and skillfully brushed him clean before successfully saddling and bridling him all on her own. The only task she still couldn't bring herself to do was clean the accumulated debris caked in his hooves, although as Link stepped forward armed with a hoof pick she assured him that, someday, she'd work up the nerve to do it herself. He could've sworn Dinraal rolled his eyes at that.

The sun was peering out from behind the lowest of the castle's parapets when they emerged from the stables and began leading the horses down towards Castle Town, and the air still held the chill bite of the fading night. A light breeze wafted over them and Link shuddered as it stung his exposed cheeks, although mercifully it wasn't quite powerful enough to cut through the thick woolen doublet he wore over his Champion's tunic. He rubbed his hands together fervently blowing on them, glancing down at the thick feathering around Timber's hooves and feeling a momentary tinge of jealousy. Built-in cold protection.

Out in the open, away from the somewhat cramped stable halls, the contrast between Dinraal and Timber became even more apparent. Link had never really considered the difference between the horses of commoners and royalty, but now he couldn't deny it. Next to Timber, Dinraal was delicate, refined, every bone petite and smooth. The arch of his neck, the shape of his head - he was the epitome of grace and beauty.

Timber, Link thought with affection, was a beautiful horse in his own right. Though not bred for looks, as it was clear Dinraal was, he was well-proportioned and strong, and his freshly brushed coat gleamed soft in the early-morning sunshine. His face, though of course much broader and a bit furrier than Dinraal's, nonetheless seemed just as graceful.

"Sir Link, if I might have a word…"

Link turned to see General Hawkwood striding quickly down the path towards him, looking grim, discreetly flanked by two knights. He glanced back at Zelda, still facing Dinraal's shoulder and combing through his mane.

"The King wishes for me to pass along a warning," Hawkwood said, clearing his throat. "He… wishes to remind you once more about what faces you should any harm come to his daughter by, er, your hands."

Link raised an eyebrow at him. "There's no need for him to worry about that," he responded, trying to keep bitterness from his voice.

Hawkwood nodded curtly in agreement. "In all honesty, I also wished to pass along a more personal warning," he admitted. He lowered his voice. "Monsters are on the move, banding together in larger and more organized forces than we've seen before. I've received word from Goponga, Deya, Tabantha, and Shadow Hamlet asking for greater military presence – the numbers they report are… quite disturbing. And with the weather only just improving enough to allow us greater mobility, I haven't been able to fully investigate, but… there are rumors of bandits as well. Roaming monsters praying upon merchant caravans."

He sighed heavily, shaking his head, and gripped Link's shoulder. "Evil is gaining ground. Be careful out there," he murmured, sincere concern gleaming in his dark eyes.

Link felt a lump rise in his throat, remembering the few times Janin would give him quick words of advice before he left on a journey. Now, it seemed, the General was taking his place in that regard. "Thank you, sir. I will."

Hawkwood offered him a grim smile before turning away.

"We'll be taking the lesser-known path to Kakariko," Zelda said when they reached the wide bridge leading over the moat. "Up the Sahasra Slope. It's quicker than going all the way around the Duelling Peaks, and of course less people know about it, so ideally we won't be followed."

Link nodded. But lesser-known means it might be an ideal territory for a band of monsters or two, he thought grimly, feeling absently for the Master Sword at his back.

He noticed then, with no little surprise, what appeared to be a pale bow fastened to the back of Dinraal's saddle, accompanied by a thick bundle of arrows wrapped in leather. "Are you… expecting trouble?"

She followed his gaze before glancing back at him, a self-conscious pink hue settling over her cheeks - or perhaps it was just the cold. "I… just in case," she admitted meekly. "Ideally I won't have to use them at all. But…" She shrugged. "Just in case. They certainly proved handy on the way to Death Mountain, didn't they?"

Link smiled. "I couldn't forget," he assured her. "Although I hope you don't have to use them again, for both our sakes."

She chuckled, and they continued walking, following the eastern road past the cathedral out of the city walls. Once they had passed the last of the buildings they mounted up, spurring the horses into a light trot out into the open rolling fields. The grass, browned and matted by the winter's snow and cold, was patched and dotted with muddy pools of melted ice and stubborn heaps of snow that, though shrinking fast, still refused to give in entirely to the sun's persistent rays.

Link had ridden Timber several times since their initial meeting in the stables with Groose, first late at night - with the exception of the past two, which he had instead spent with Zelda - and then early in the morning before he went on duty. The massive horse's broad back was difficult and uncomfortable to straddle at first, prompting Link to put more effort into stretches that Impa had taught him. Now, although he wasn't quite as comfortable as he hoped eventually to be, he could at the very least detect an improvement. And spending all day in the saddle is bound to help hurry that along, he told himself hopefully.

Other than that, it was thrilling to see the world from so much higher up than he'd ever been before. If he had been riding Timber, he realized with a grin, King Rhoam would have had to look up at him instead of the other way around. It was a longer way to fall, he was confident enough in his horsemanship that the distance wasn't particularly troubling.

Zelda was quick to notice the height difference, although she didn't comment about it immediately. Link caught her glancing up at him from time to time, an eyebrow quirked in contemplation, but she remained silent; as the sun inched higher, banishing the night's bite and setting once more to work against the last few remaining splatters of snow on the ground, hindered by the occasional wisp of cloud drifting across the sky, their journey progressed in relative silence.

"I think Choice must have been shorter than Dinraal," Zelda remarked at last. "I seem to recall looking down at you before."

"Down?" Link chuckled. "Couldn't be. I'm taller than you, so we would have been looking eye to eye."

Zelda smirked. "That's a lie; we're the same height if anything! I'm actually probably the taller one, otherwise it wouldn't seem so odd now to be looking up!"

"Maybe it's just because, instead of a couple inches' difference, it's a couple feet," Link pointed out, feeling pleased with his new vantage point. "On the ground you wouldn't notice that I'm taller. It's just not a large enough difference most of the time."

When they stopped for a brief midday meal, and to stretch and let the horses have a break after the morning's ride - likely more action than they'd seen all winter - they tested their theory.

"You must have grown recently," Link frowned, as they stood toe-to-toe on the trail. "You certainly weren't this tall before, were you? Before that month I spent training, I mean."

"Maybe," Zelda shrugged, grinning. "Like you said - it's such a small difference it doesn't really affect things. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm taller."

Link rolled her eyes. "Barely," he reminded her with a wide smile.

The clouds that earlier had posed no threat, harmlessly drifting in patches across the vast sky, began to coalesce as they continued their journey. A hard wind danced over the stiff strands of grass, rattling the bare branches of the sparse scatterings of trees peppering the roadside. Link pulled the hood sewn into the neck of his doublet over his head in an attempt to keep his ears, beginning to burn from the wind's cold breath, a little warmer. He wondered if the Sheikah spell to control the wind could keep it from chilling him.

But as the growing mass of clouds blotted out the sun's cheery light, rendering the plains dreary and gray, more dead than alive despite the little signs of the oncoming spring - little pinpricks of new grass poking out from beneath the old, small green buds clinging to barren tree branches - so too did the atmosphere between them darken. They rode on in silence; Link's thighs were beginning to ache, and he felt a wary sense of unease tingling in his stomach, whispering over the hairs at the back of his neck. Evil is gaining ground, the General's words echoed in his mind.

"It… it didn't much look like a storm would blow in this morning," Zelda noted with exaggerated nonchalance. She feels it, too. Something's not right.

It was dark - much too dark for early afternoon. The clouds were hungry, thirsty for greater reign over the sky; they thickened and expanded, guided by wind that no longer held any trace of the scents of dawning springtime. And the shadows - unnatural. Even with stormclouds of this size, Link thought, it should have been at least a bit lighter. Instead it seemed as though the clouds were leeching away the world's color while deepening the darkest of the shadows, extracting them from their secret hidden places and drawing them out into the open to join the quest to conquer the sky and bathe the land in blackness.

This can't be natural, Link thought. Dinraal snorted and tossed his head, his ears straight and attentive, swivelling in every which way. Even Timber seemed ill at ease; Link felt a tremor pass through his bulky frame as he shook his mane.

"Be ready to run," he said grimly, glancing down at Zelda before craning his neck to scan over the sea of slumbering grass surrounding them, wary for any sign of an incoming attack. There's something very wrong at work here.

They crossed the Horwell Bridge; just beneath it the Hylia River was swollen with snowmelt, its waters running fast and dark, clouded by mud and even a few plants swept away in the face of its newfound spring wrath. Neither a particularly tall bridge, nor a very wide one, Link couldn't help but feel a knot of cold anxiety binding his heart as he saw the wild waters churning much too close beneath the wooden boards beneath Timber's heavy hooves. We can't take this bridge on the way back. Once more snow melts off the mountaintops and the spring storms really kick in, it won't be safe.

They began the climb up the gently sloping hill, following the path to Horwell's companion, Eagus Bridge. Link could see a bend in the road drawing near; he could see nothing beyond it. His pulse quickened, his heart drumming urgently against his chest, as they inched closer; whatever it was behind the bend, it had to be the source of his anxiety -

"Link!" Zelda gasped, and he jumped in surprise, causing Timber to snort and toss his head nervously.

"Wh-what is it?" he asked, fighting to keep his voice steady.

"You're in danger," she answered simply, her voice soft, nearly stolen away by the rising wind. "There's something…"

"Where?" Link demanded. "Can you sense where it's coming from?"

She didn't answer, her brow pinched and afraid, but he noticed her chin dip to the side as if she was about to look over her shoulder. Link glanced back down the ground they'd already covered, and from their position halfway up the hill he could see a cloud of dust rising from the depths of the field, well away from the main path but coming closer, fast.

The wind dropped for a moment, and he heard the distant thunder of hoofbeats. And squinting into the dust he could just barely make out humanoid figures. A chill dropped down his spine. "Run," he whispered, facing forward and nudging Timber's sides. "Run!"

Zelda hastened to follow, leaning forward in Dinraal's saddle as she urged him faster onward. "What did you see?" she called, fear pitching her voice higher.

"Lynels," Link grunted. He'd never ridden Timber at a gallop before, and he was quickly learning that staying balanced in the proper position, raised just slightly out of the saddle and letting his weight rest on his heels, was much more difficult when riding a horse with such a wide back.

He glanced over his shoulder again when they reached the bend in the road, just as the first squealing war cry rang out, and couldn't stifle a breathless spurt of laughter.

The horde was gaining on them, and fast; they were close enough that Link could see that the vaguely humanesque shapes he'd detected just moments before were bokoblins. At least ten of them, maybe twelve or more, were charging through the grass and crossing the Horwell Bridge - on horseback.

"It's actually bokoblins," he called to Zelda, who had gotten ahead of him in his moment of distraction. "Quite a few of them, though - running their horses hard. Very hard."

"Horses?" Zelda sounded baffled, and a little less afraid. "But - but we're still in danger -"

"Just keep going as you have been," Link encouraged her, but the knot of anxiety only tightened around his own heart. Their survival depended on the endurance of the bokoblins' horses - if it outmatched their own, then the bokoblins would catch up soon. But if not they would fall behind; they were already lathered in sweat, clearly pushed to the very limits of what they could handle. Link didn't dare try to push Timber or Dinraal that hard; if worse came to worst their horses would still have the energy for a last-ditch full sprint to safety.

If there's any safety ahead. The knot squeezed tighter. And if Timber's any good at long-distance running.

"You can do it," he murmured, dropping the reins in one hand for an instant to give his horse an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "C'mon, boy - you can do it!"

They pounded across the Eagus Bridge, over the massive chasm below, and Link felt a sudden idea, like a bolt of lightning, strike his mind. He nudged Timber's sides again, spurring him into a full gallop, and as they began to overtake Dinraal Link reached across and grabbed the white horse's bridle before steering both horses off of the trail and pulling them to a halt.

"What are you doing?" Zelda protested, her eyes wide with horror as he slid from his saddle, landing with an impact that jarred his ankles. Biting back a wince, he held his arms out to her.

"Hurry – get down," he whispered, hearing the thundering hoofbeats of the bokoblins' steeds drawing steadily closer. No longer was it a distant rumble; he could hear more clearly the sound of each hoof's impact on the ground.

Wide-eyed and confused, Zelda dismounted, and he pulled her further off the trail, behind a thick tree, before reaching into his pouch. "Hold on to me," he instructed. He had practiced on Impa several times before; hiding the Princess from the enemy was, after all, one of her goals in teaching him the shadow magic of her tribe. As long as Zelda maintained contact with him, and… "Whatever you feel, don't be afraid – trust me," he said, giving her hand a soft squeeze.

As long as she didn't reject the shadows herself, the spell would work.

He inhaled deeply, drizzling Deku powder to the ground and calling forth the shadows of the woodland. There were many, with the storm clouds thick and dark above them. Link felt them coalesce around himself, felt Zelda shiver, and knew the spell had worked.

He heard the clatter of hoofbeats on wood and watched as the mounted bokoblins galloped across, some of them barely hanging on to their horses. They slowed as they reached the other side with no sign of their quarry; Link caught a whiff of their stench, so disturbingly similar to domestic pigs, and winced. He felt Zelda tremble behind him and prayed she would have faith in his spell.

Then one of the monsters spotted Dinraal between the trees and pointed, squealing eagerly. The other bokoblins joined in its call, wrestling their horses around to face him and readying ropes hanging around their shoulders. Link noticed then with a jolt that some of their horses had once been domesticated, remnants of bridles and harnesses hanging from their bodies. And some of the bokoblins' ropes had hooks – hooks that could be thrown into the canvas of covered wagons. Hooks that could wrap around axles or harnesses. They're bandits!

He clenched his fist, remembering the old woman whose wagon had broken as she journeyed along the Hyrule Ridge. The roads are no longer so safe – she would die if her wagon were to have broken now.

And now the bokoblins wanted Dinraal, ready to scavenge whatever they could from his gear. Link's heart raced, and he feared that he had made a horrible mistake –

But as the bokoblins approached Timber he snorted and reared up onto his hind legs, striking out with his front hooves and crashing back down with such force that a tremor shook the ground. He didn't need to actually hit the bokoblins or their mounts – at the mere sight of him the monsters panicked, squealing in terror, and their horses were spooking, shying or bolting away, and several of their monster masters tumbled from their backs only to be trampled by the rest of the fleeing horses, back over the bridge bearing what few bokoblins that still hung on to safety. Link heard a warbling cry and saw one of the bokoblins tumbling off of the bridge entirely, into the treacherous waters below.

Timber cantered lightly after them, ears pricked and alert, and stopped only once the monsters were gone.

Slowly Link got to his feet, his heart racing.

"N-not an angry bone in his body, you said," Zelda whispered from his side, dispelling the shadows.

Link chuckled. "He's not angry – not really," he said. "Look at him – he's perfectly calm now." He whistled, and Timber – trained, as Groose had promised, to follow the sound – trotted towards them. Much to Link's surprise, three other horses – each having lost their bokoblin masters - also followed his call. A rugged-looking buckskin, from their side of the bridge, wide-eyed and skittish, that had run up into the small hills on the other side of the trail and stopped. A small black horse had also run in that direction, and followed the buckskin back down the hill. The third horse, a piebald, seemed to be following Timber more than Link's call; it had been lingering across the bridge while the rest of its herd – and the bokoblins – fled.

Link raised an eyebrow at Timber as the massive horse reached them, the other three hesitant behind him. He turned to Zelda, who looked equally surprised. "He saw it as defending his herd," he explained slowly. "He… he knows these horses."

The buckskin and the piebald were mares, he noticed quickly, rising to his feet and slowly, cautiously approaching. The black horse appeared to be a gelding; of the three it seemed the least disturbed by all that had transpired, as was common in geldings. Link reached it first, as it was the closet, and approached from the side, his steps slow but purposeful, his shoulders square and confident.

"Hey there," he murmured, reaching out. The horse's ears swivelled towards him and it watched with wide, haunted eyes.

"Link, what are you doing?" Zelda still sounded shaken; a tinge of frustration had entered her voice. "Just leave them be; let them live out here in the wild. They'll be fine."

His hand made contact with the black horse's side. A tremor passed through the beast's body, and it lowered its shaggy head. "A gelding can't lead or defend a herd, no matter how small," he murmured. "And these horses deserve better." He found what he was looking for on the gelding's shoulder, beneath the withers – a triangle. The same mark had branded Choice, as it did all horses bred at the castle stables. "This little one was meant to be a knight's horse, but he was too small. He's long-legged, but an adult… probably quite fast, with good endurance. A messenger's horse, perhaps." He rubbed the black horse's nose affectionately, and it closed its eyes, likely starving for a gentle touch. Bokoblins were not known for good horsemanship, let alone caring at all for their steeds.

He whistled again, and Timber closed the distance between them. The buckskin also inched closer, he noticed. From Timber's pack he withdrew a long coil of rope and unsheathed his father's knife, always strapped to his thigh. He'd learned how to make rope halters years ago and, though he hadn't had to use the ability much, his hands remembered the knots and twists required. He fashioned three, each with long leads so that he could pony the horses together, before returning to the black horse and gently slipping the halter on. The lead he fastened to Timber's saddle horn, and then he moved on to the next horse.

The buckskin had also been bred at the castle. The instant she and the gelding had followed his call, he had suspected as much; the triangle brandings on both of them confirmed his suspicions. He cut the remnants of an old cart harness from her chest and held a rope halter up to her head; she shied a little, raising her head out of reach in protest, but his gentle touch soothed her, and she relented. Of the three, she looked the worst off. Her winter coat was matted and torn in places, uneven in others, indicating scars.

The piebald mare, Link guessed, had been bred by Groose's family. It was clear that she recognized Timber, and he found a brand on her hindquarters in the simplified shape of a cow's head that matched Timber's when he looked. She seemed to have a sweet and gentle nature, rubbing Link's chest with her nose affectionately after he reached out to her. Probably a family horse, perhaps accustomed to farm work or herding, and not under the bokoblins' control for very long.

He attached the end of her lead rope to Dinraal's decorative peytral, as his saddle didn't have a horn. "She's the least excitable," he explained to Zelda, who looked uncertain. Dinraal didn't look much happier about the situation. "She can keep him calm. And as long as she and Dinraal both trust Timber, we'll be fine."

Zelda nodded hesitantly, and Link attached the buckskin's lead rope to Timber's saddle horn, deeming her the most in need of the massive horse's reassuring presence. He finished by fastening the black gelding's lead rope to the buckskin's halter, then mounted up. Zelda followed suit, chuckling as the piebald mare sniffed at her.

"This… this won't get you into trouble, will it?" she asked as they set off, considerably further apart than they had been to allow room for the other horses. "It's… not exactly part of your duties…"

Link bit back a wince. "I know," he sighed. "But you weren't ever in any danger; I had this under control –"

"That's not what I meant," Zelda cut him off, raising an eyebrow at him. "I'm worried about what others will think, when they read your report."

He didn't respond at once, letting out a heavy breath through his nose. She was right, and most people that took so much as a cursory glance at what he would write would undoubtedly agree that the horses had been entirely unnecessary, nothing but a delay in their journey.

He remembered the General's warning of increased monster activity, of travelers that seemed to have gone missing. Here was evidence. Three horses, clearly stolen and poorly treated, each from different walks of life, with Link and Zelda both as witnesses to their previous owners – bokoblin bandits. Each horse represented a life, or possibly multiple lives.

And besides that, one of the horses had once belonged to the new Captain of the Royal Guard's family. Because of Groose's background, and his careful selection of Timber, Link felt confident that he would understand the desire to help these horses in some way.

He smiled at Zelda, trying to regain the lightheartedness they had felt earlier in the day. "I have good friends in high places now," he reminded her. "Their opinions are the only ones that matter – and they'll be on my side."

"Well, that certainly is a welcome change –" She stopped, noticing the mischief in his grin, and frowned sternly at him. "Don't you go letting whatever influence you've gained get to you! Honestly, of all the pig-headed things you could do right now, with our situation so delicate…"

Link bit his lip, trying to hold back a laugh. "It… it really was… pig-headed, wasn't it? Considering those bokoblins?"

Zelda kept up her no-nonsense facade for a moment longer before weakening; a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "My goodness, Link, you're incorrigible today."

"I'll keep the puns to a minimum if you accept that we're saving these horses," Link offered, sobering as a warm rush of gratitude swelled in his heart. He patted Timber's thick neck affectionately. Wouldn't be possible without you.

"I… very well," Zelda relented, sighing. "I don't really see this the way you do, but… if anyone ever treated Dinraal so terribly, I'd probably change my mind."

Link shrugged in acceptance. Her words struck a chord in his mind and he winced, realizing how poorly he had handled the bokoblins' attack. Hiding had seemed like the right course of action at the time, but he hadn't thought about how to hide the horses. If not for Timber, he realized with a pang of guilt that he likely would have had to choose between maintaining Zelda's protection by keeping her hidden, or losing the horses. I couldn't have fought off that many on horseback. If I'd known some of them were bred at the castle, I might've been able to cause confusion by calling for them, but as it was… He let the reins drop from one hand for a moment and rubbed Timber's neck affectionately, whispering a quiet, heartfelt thank-you.

I suppose I should buy Groose a drink, he reflected. Maybe one of those hot chocolate drinks from the bakery - I can't imagine any of the other stuff he drinks could be better.


Updated 7/8