"Stay here." Sasha's order bounced around in Rowark's head, but it did little to calm his anxiety.
Whatever was outside, Rowark was thankful that it had prevented him from revealing his greatest secret. He was born a sinner. It had been ten long years since he first learned that his attraction men was a worse sin than murder. Thou shalt not commit adultery, rang the voice of a priest from days long past. As little intention as Rowark had of ever walking into a brothel, The Golden Goddesses seemed to have guided him straight into the arms of the morally corrupt with ease. Perhaps Nayru was testing his will to resist sin. But he had never looked at a woman that way before. So perhaps this was Nayru's way of encouraging him to commit one, small sin to cure his abominable original.
He never thought the Desert Oasis would be the place that almost outed his secret.
No matter how decadent Hyrule or his comrades would ever become, Rowark worshipped the Golden Goddesses. Under circumstances when people killed, Rowark would not. Under circumstances when people stole, he would not either. His own dogmatic, religious beliefs came from a promise made to the Goddesses, that he would atone for his original sin of fantasizing about men by adhering strictly to all of Their commandments.
Rowark took the moment to appreciate the trust that Sasha had given him. Who knows what kinds of jewels and treasures could be hidden in the room of the Desert Oasis' own Director? Rowark would not, however. Thou shalt not covet what is not thy own, his old priest used to recite. If he had truly earned her trust, then he would at least honor her trust.
But he just could not sit still! Rowark paced around the room anxiously. The sunlit spot on the ground encroached the edge of the rug. There was no doubt in his mind that half an hour had passed. After he felt like he had walked on every square digit of the floor three times, Rowark felt that staying in the room was causing his anxiety. He needed to go outside and join Sasha, at least get away from the space that almost gave him a heart attack! Maybe there was something he could do to help.
He charged out the door into the circular hallway, where the soundscape was filled with moans of women and men making love. Rowark's blush face was a result of the regretful step outside. The stairwell was his only way out of the heated atmosphere, and he certainly did not want to stay there any longer than he needed to be. He raced down the steps against the clock.
Once Rowark reached the bottom, he was surprised that nobody had ceased their flirting at all. It was as if everyone was ignorant of the the supposed mob outside, or whatever it was that had to draw the attention of the director. After a quick search on his way down the steps, he spotted Boom lying on his back, letting two girls crawl all over him. Garreth, Lemon, and Tenny were nowhere to be found, so they were probably somewhere upstairs. As soon as he reached the bottom of the stairwell, Rowark walked briskly towards his friend in the guard.
He patted Boom's massive shoulders, "Hey, do you know what's going on outside?" Rowark looked around the room to assess the situation as he waited for an answer from the well built man. Nothing significant had changed in the rotunda, aside from the addition of two fully armed sentries stationed near the entrance. The petite, leather armor strapped to their bodies contrasted heavily with the rumors that the Gerudo had mastered wearing heavy plate mail to battle.
"Oh hey lad," Boom blissfully said, "Don't know really. The woman up front keeps telling us to be calm and not to worry and all that manure. But I cannae count a person here who's worried about what's going on outside."
"Purists," added a nearby patron, probably a nobleman judging by jewels glittering on his three piece suit, leaning over to offer his expertise as an woman planted kisses all over his body, "In recent tendos, they have been gathering mobs together to protest the brothel. From what I hath observed, they are nothing but harmless peasants." Commoners might be easy problem to deal with for a noble with an army, but Rowark knew the potential danger and risks any one particular "peasant" could create. It only took one spark to ignite a verbal dispute into a bloodbath. Such information only made his anxiety worse.
"Whatever mate," Boom said in between smooches, "Stop making a fuss and enjoy yourself here. It's what we came to do."
It was not the response that Rowark was looking for, but it was the honest answer he expected. That gave him no choice but to see for himself in order to satisfy his obstinate curiosity. He at least needed to see if Sasha was handling the situation legally.
He walked toward the grand exit, where the two sentries guarded steadfastly with glaives crossing in front of the partially opened door. The sounds of yelling and glass crashing upon the outer walls were audible enough to hear even from where Boom was located, just not loud enough to distract anyone preoccupied with a harlot.
Standing in between the two sentries was a shorter Gerudo wearing thin rimmed glasses. Despite her short stature, something about her distinguishing outfit told Rowark that she was 'the woman up front" that Boom had mentioned. The white garbs of her attire draped over her contrasting yet modest undergarments and hid her body shape well, and the tiara sitting on her blood red hair made her look authentically regal.
"Halt, patron," she raised her palm as soon as she felt Rowark's intention to wander outside, "There is nothing to see outside."
He anticipated the answer as much, "Oh, I'm um," he stuttered to find the story to allow his passage through. It needed to be believable at the very least, "I have a very important, um, message I forgot to deliver. It's very important, it's with regard to a capitan's orders from the-"
Her sharp, accented voice interrupted him mid-sentence, "I don't care if the message came from the Golden Goddesses. You will wait until I say so!" Her intensified stare almost sent Rowark running away with his tail between his legs, but the knight was able to stay that fear and gulped instead.
Rowark pleaded, "I can help. One word to a knight is all I need to summon a company of Her Majesty's soldiers to peacefully disperse the mob."
The authority in charge looked straight into Rowark's eyes and retorted sternly, "We have everything under control. We will let you know when it is okay to leave."
"Sano'a!" the familiar voice called out from the other side of the door. "It's okay! Let him through!" Sasha's permission instantly moved the glaives away from the door and held Sano'a where she stood as Rowark stepped around her.
As Rowark passed through the door, a glass bottle shattered digits away from his face. It was at that moment that he wish he were armed. Alerted, he stepped into the blaring cries of anger and hatred and the rain of rocks and excremental trash. The collective voices of well over three hundred angry Hylians were deafening. Rowark was surprised that the tower's walls were able to muffle all of the sound. Above all the cacophony of shouts and threats, "Burn the sinners!" was the most distinguishable phrase out of them all.
Their clothing were nothing more than rags, their weapons were rudimentary, but their numbers made trivializing their concerns impossible. Pitchforks, torches, and bludgeons were the most common weapons being waved in the air, and swords and other bladed weapons were spread far and few between. The sheer number of all the hoisted weapons made Rowark all the more nervous. People with different varieties of unkempt hair stood shoulder to shoulder and occupied the entire space of the busy street intersection.
Rowark remembered hearing the name Purists whispered in the lips of the city guards, but the unorganized group of zealots staged protests only once a season, and they only protested at Other establishments, hardly a problem worth dealing with for the city guard. But their activity was increasing according to rumors, and Rowark only had a vague idea of how much the Purists had grown during the past season that he went missing.
A foul smell permeated through the air. As Rowark searched for the source, a handful of feces was launched from somewhere in the crowd and landed almost a palm's length away from his feet. Glass shattering against the walls pierced Rowark's ears. The most worrisome missile, however, was the stones, some as big as a brick. Rowark ducked underneath an incoming rock, which made him regret not coming to the brothel in a full suit of armor.
Not only did Rowark wish he had some sort of protection, he was impressed with the way the twelve Gerudo sentries withstood the bombardment with what little armor they had. Their vambraces were doubly reinforced with steel, eliminating the need for a shield in melee fighting. Their pauldrons and chest pieces looked tight and flexible, but it would do little against a well placed blade. Their bronze helmets had an opening in the back for the ponytail to escape out the back, and a moon shaped plate of metal hung from the front of the helmet and served as a visor. Their legs were not covered at all.
Despite all the seemingly unfounded rumors of Gerudo warriors being masters of heavy armor, this brigade of lightly armored women was Sasha's response to the rioting. The sentries stood statue-like against everything thrown at them; their armor protected the vitals, and their hardened, conditioned bodies would take care of the rest, a strategy useful for the desert with a scarcity of iron.
"I suspected you would come outside to see for yourself," Sasha's voice pulled Rowark's attention to his immediate right. "I want to show you," she said, nodding towards the mass of people not more than a hundred palms away, "the realm that you will be protecting."
The fearsome glaives in the hands of the warrior sentries were all that kept the sea of hatred at bay. However, the law was on the side of the Gerudos. If the protesters stepped within a ten yard radius from any establishment, the landlord was allowed to use violence to protect his property, so Sasha needed to be there to personally make that decision. Although she could have legally sent her sentries into the crowd at any time in retaliation of the barrage of stones and feces defacing the property, the complexity of Hyrule's racial problems discouraged violence from any of the Others.
Sasha was an important face of the Gerudo immigrant population. As such, she had an important responsibility to represent her people as best as possible. One wrong move could affect the way Castle City would treat the Gerudo in the future. Rowark wondered how could she make such a crucial decision under the pressure of her position and the duress of the angry crowd surrounding them. Within the chaotic circumstances, Sasha leaned back against the door, unphased by all the undeserving hatred.
To Rowark, there was already no denial that the people he swore to protect would soon become his new, worst nightmares. Protests were already so common that specific companies of the city guard were dedicated to crowd control. However, they were only summoned to protect important government personnel from violent crowds. Everyone else had to deal with mobs on his or her own.
"I can help!" Rowark yelled over the noise. It was a lie, though. There was little Rowark could do and less he could say to persuade a fellow knight to help. It was difficult enough to do as a city watchman.
Sasha smiled in response. Of course she knew Rowark was of little significance. If she could rely on the city guard to help, she would not have armed a dozen of her sentries. At the moment, her only options were either to wait for the crowd to disperse on its own, which could take up to hours, or wait for the crowd to move close enough for Sasha to legally spill blood, a good way to force dispersion, but ultimately not how Rowark wanted to handle the situation.
The authorities needed to settle this, not the Gerudo. Maybe they were on their way? After all, if the Hylian army's favorite pleasure house was under attack, wouldn't the guard be more inclined to reach here sooner?
"Go back inside," Sasha motioned for Rowark to take shelter back in the tower, "There is no need for you to get hurt. This is not your fight," Sasha tried to wear her seductive smile, but Rowark was able to see through her mask, "Let one of my girls take care of you."
"I'd rather stay here," Rowark sharply retorted, "To make sure you are okay."
"Stop trying to romance me," jested Sasha in response. She continued to lean against the door, seemingly unworried about potential escalation in violence, but Rowark figured she had good experience leading her sisters through worse conflicts. After all, their problems in the barren desert probably paled in comparison to their current problem. It would be insulting to think Sasha and her band of sentries were incapable of handling anything less than a full scale invasion.
To Rowark, the choice between facing a barrage of life-threateningly sized rocks or braving an intimate encounter with a Gerudo was easy. He was used to the chaos of battle, even though the thought of killing another still unsettled his mind. But between slaying an enemy combatant and sheathing a woman, the former was the easier sin to commit.
His consciousness was actively searching for rocks to dodge, making every heartbeat feel like several hours. Avoiding each incoming missile was tiring, and it made Rowark wish he had a shield at his disposal. He stood his ground, though, like the rest. There needed to be an authority on site to bear witness to what was happening should this incident escalate into a bloody brawl. After personally dispersing dozens of riots, Rowark knew that this result was a very likely possibility.
The constant effort to dodge each of the incoming projectiles made It difficult to determine whether the crowd had diminished, or how much time had passed by. While he danced around the rocks, the Gerudo sisters stood stalwartly. Glass shattered against their armor, rocks bounced off their strong, hardened legs, and not even the foul odor of nearby feces made them move one digit.
It began to feel like he was given more and more time to dodge each incoming attack missile. An hour must have passed by, he was sure of it. The sun was close to setting behind the Western Cliff. And the crowd was also beginning to thin. Rowark smiled as a result of his optimistic thoughts. Eventually, he began to see individuals on the back fringes of the Hylian pool turning away after exhausting their hatred and anger. The crowd would disperse by itself within the foreseeable future. And the Gerudo had to do no more than enduring amateurish attacks that caused little to no harm.
Rowark respected the Gerudo a little more for their courage to stand their ground like a Goron could. But he was also saddened because they had withstood this treatment from their neighbors for decades now.
Something was moving behind the crowd and drawing every person's eyes. It must have been something rather large scuttling through. By the time his eyes returned to the crowd, their backs and their attention were beginning to turn around. The mass of people was still too thick for Rowark to see through.
A blade flashed in the air. Screams rang into the air. Rowark turned to Sasha and accused her, "That's a Gerudo blade!"
But Sasha also looked like she had no idea what was happening either.
Rowark barked at her, "We have to stop whoever is attacking the crowd!"
She nodded in agreement. If this was a rogue Gerudo acting independently, then Sasha would be dealing with an even worse public relations nightmare than before. Dealing with this problem was in her best interest. When the tall Gerudo stood straight again and raised her arms to order her sentries, Rowark felt an aura of inspiring leadership coming from her.
She spoke in her native tongue, shouting foreign words with lots of long vowels and unfamiliar consonants. The sentries called in response, "HUAH!" They jogged to their appropriate position in formation and lowered their glaives, like they were ready to charge into the pool of people. Eleven of the blade tips were pointed towards the crowd; only one faced backwards to guard the rear. The tactic resembled the Royal army's method of rescuing important personnel from chaotic, crowded battlefields.
The team took slow, small steps forward and patiently closed the distance between Gerudo and Hylian. But before the foremost spear tip could reach the closest protester, an explosion erupted from within the crowd. Purple flames burst forth from an unidentified Gerudo and knocked back all the protesters, leaving a ring of burning bodies both live and dead. The rest of the crowd scattered; shouts of anger turned into screams of panic.
"Kinja," Sasha whispered with a look of dread on her face. The bright, purple flames receded back towards Kinja, the supposed Gerudo attacking the crowd, and coated her warmly, unaffecting her at all. The woman stood bare naked in the middle of the street, her clothing having been burned off, and pointed her sword pointed forward at a miniscule, floating ball of light.
Rowark recognized the pink color, Miro Miro! She was in deep trouble, and so was the rest of the public. The immolated Gerudo unleashed a blood curdling war cry and then turned around and began swinging her weapon at the nearest pot. Rowark watched in horror as innocent shop owners and residents fled from her bloodlust.
Kinja waved her hand and used her native tongue to bark another order. "Huah!" responded her sentry sisters, and then they raised their weapons. Sasha darted for the partially opened door and swung it all the way open.
"Hurry, sisters!" she commanded. The sentries turned and briskly retreated one by one into the safety of the Desert Oasis.
The knight protested, "You're going to do nothing?"
"It's too late," she lamented, "She will die soon, and I will not risk my sisters' lives to stop her."
"Someone has to do something!" he retorted. As the last of the sentries were retreating, Rowark firmly gripped the last one by the shoulder, "Give me your weapon!"
"Don't be foolish! You do not stand a chance against her!" exclaimed Sasha.
But the sentry laughed from behind her visor, "Ha!" and handed over her polearm, which immediately drew a frown from Sasha, "I shall gladly give you my weapon just to watch you get killed."
The knight gripped the two yard long weapon. The blade at the end was about half the length of a sword's blade but twice the width, which made the weapon very top heavy compared to the standard issue spear. But he had no time to accustom himself to the unusual balance; there were people to save.
Goddesses, please protect me, he prayed, before rushing toward the purple inferno.
Author's Note: The measurement for distance is as follows. One digit is about 3/4 inch (1.9 cm), four digits make a palm, and ten palms make a yard.