Chapter Four: The Fall of Hyrule

Link's restlessness made her own legs twitch. He roved around the room, pacing from the empty fireplace at one end to the tall window at the other.

She sat calmly and offered meager terms. Eyes sparkling with energy, he protested.

"This is pointless," he said. "We both know the threat to our peoples. Ordon will put aside past grievances. We must confront this Sorcerer united."

"And I will be glad to assist in any way I can. However-"

"'Assist?'" he spat. "Your standing army is larger than our entire nation!"

Why was he so heated? She brushed her thoughts over him and was firmly rebuffed.

"Which does not make their lives less valuable," she said aloud.

"Do not lecture me on the value of my men's lives." What did Kahlin say to him? There was new steel in his voice. "Ordona watches over many silent swords. Lives lost hunting crytch that roamed your Watch."

"No one asked you to do this."

"I am the Champion of Ordona. I will eradicate darkness wherever I find it."

Zelda wondered if he knew how much that sounded like a threat. She needed a powerful ally, not a crusader.

"There is no darkness here, Champion."

He gave her a quick look and his energy shaded with apology. "I know. Which is why I need your help."

She wondered, too, if he knew how boyish he appeared in his earnestness. It was charming and she resisted it.

"And I understand your need. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed and they will be rewarded. But launching a full out assault on a nation that has given us no cause will lead only to pain and war."

He was finally still. He looked down on her, brows drawn together.

"And if Ordon was one of your provinces? Would you intervene then?"

Ordon had been, some three hundred years ago. A drawn-out conflict with the Rito had allowed the always truculent nation to break away.

"That is neither here nor there. I will aid you. How, must be discussed further with my magistrates."

She expected an explosive response. Instead he only looked at her a moment, maybe puzzled. Then he sighed.

"I do understand, Your Majesty. I just…"

She could see the drive pulling him forward. This was not all play-acting for whoever was spying. He needed to be moving, fighting, challenging. Any remnant of darkness in his ken would draw him as a wasp to honey.

She stood and went to him. "Give me time," she told him, Link, not the Prince. "All will be well."

He half-smiled. "If we are finished, I believe there are some Ordonian soldiers I need to review for guard detail."

Where in the world did he find them? She accepted his salute and watched him stride out.

She let out a breath. The boy crackled with energy. How Ordon had contained him, she did not know. Or had he? There was no end the rumors of his activities, in Ordon and beyond.

Sheik waited while she took a few moments to relax in her chambers. Ciela redressed her hair and curtsied out. Zelda rubbed her temples.

"How long must he stay?" she wondered aloud. "He tires me more than twenty other courtiers combined."

Sheik was honing a long knife. "Why didn't you take his offer?"

"To send my soldiers to slaughter? Are you mad?"

He drew his stone firmly along the blade. "No, his hint at marriage."

She spun in her chair to glare at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I thought it obvious, his asking about Ordon returning to its place as a Hylian province."

She pressed her hands to her eyes. "I am not going to marry him! He's a boy, hardly old enough to enlist!"

Sheik flipped the blade to smooth the other side. "He's at least twenty-three. Only three years younger than you."

She twisted her bracelet around her wrist, watching the glint of gems. "He's short for his age, then." Slightly ungenerous on her part. But while not diminutive, he was no more than average in height. Sheik towered over him.

"Malnutrition," the older man guessed. "Stunted his growth. And he had his legs broken young."

She winced. "Ordon told me." A punishment, during his years as a slave? An accident? Was that why he was abandoned, too damaged to work?

"Good thing, though," Sheik said unexpectedly. "Otherwise he'd be a giant."

She watched him test the edge, bemused. "What do you mean?"

"He's not a small man, even if he started runty," Sheik explained. "And that Sword; not everyone can manage a hand-and-a-half of that weight. He's too short for it but handles it easily. And with a shield, too. I'm not saying he'd beat a Zora at arm wrestling, but he's not one I would tackle barehanded."

Zelda didn't whether to laugh or toss up her hands in frustration. "He must be quite the physical specimen."

Sheik heard her drollery and grinned. "Aye."

"And so handsome, says Goodwife Firn."

"I couldn't speak to that, my lady."

"The perfect husband."

"Nay, lass, too restive."

She threw a book at him.

Link read through the dossiers of the men 'eager' to serve him.

Smuggler. Murderer. Slaver.

"No," he said, pushing the papers across the table. "Absolutely not."

Sheik made no move to take them.

"They are Ordonian citizens, my lord."

"Then why did you not return them to us?"

"Their crimes were on Hylian soil."

"And they can serve out their sentences in Hylian prison."

Sheik did take the papers then and tapped them on the table to straighten them. "My lord, if I may?"

Link gestured his permission.

"I do not know much about your Goddess. But I do understand that She is generally kind and forgiving. Except with those who hurt the young or defenseless."

Link's breath caught before he could control it. That had been part of the draw to serve Her, knowing She would protect him from further hurt, further betrayal by those supposed to care for him.

"While She may not forgive them their past crimes, would Her mercy recognize their choices now? It may be they are remorseful for what they have done. Perhaps Her punishment in the next life could be tempered by their serving Her Champion in this one?"

Why did he want this? Link frowned at the man, who maintained a bland expression.

"These men have been incarcerated for some time, my lord. Long enough to show consistent good behavior and willingness to work. They do not attempt to escape when sent to the fields. They do not fight with the other inmates."

Link held out his hand for the papers again. "How many?"

"Ten."

A traditional Demon Watch unit, ten men and an officer. A sign? Or Sheik being managing?

"Where are they?"

Sheik led him outside the palace proper. They passed through a heavy gate and into the prison grounds.

It was quiet. Many of the inmates were out laboring on this fine spring day. Guards stood at regular intervals, watching their progress with professional detachment.

Link stilled a shiver. The memory of iron shackles still dragged at his legs. He was not one who had worked quietly in the fields. Were they still on the watch for him?

"Here, my lord."

Link was not expecting much, so was not disappointed. A pathetic group of men waited in a small courtyard. Showing signs of long incarceration, they were scrawny and dull-eyed.

Those eyes widened as they examined him. Even if they did not know him personally, there was only one man allowed to wear the Champion's Tunic.

"I am Link of the Gotkasi." They actually drew together, fear breaking the nothingness of their faces. Did they think he was here to punish them?

"I am the Champion of Ordona, Captain of the Demon Watch."

Definitely terrified. One fell to his knees. Link eyed them, a little confused. "I am not here to execute you."

The man on his knees hid his face in his hands.

Slaver. The Sword hissed the word. Link swallowed and spoke as calmly as he could.

"I am here because Ordon is threatened. The Shadow in the Watch grows stronger. There are whispers of Ganon."

He had to grip his wrist with his off hand, forcing the limb down. The Sword, already incensed, snarled at him.

Sheik stepped forward, but Link gave a curt head shake. He could control it.

The prisoners gaped at him.

"What…" One of the men moistened his lips. "What do you want with us, my lord?"

"Service. Ordona…" He stilled, listening to Her edict. "Ordona knows your crimes. Serve me and She may honor your reparation." The usually merciful goddess was implacable. "Betray me, and…" He couldn't stop his wince. Her threat was particularly unpleasant. "It is your choice, as is Her way. No consequences will follow if you choose not to serve me."

The same man stepped forward. "Why us?"

Link looked to Sheik. "I don't know why," he admitted. Why were They so adamant he use these men? "This man, this Hylian, is my friend. He has vouched for you."

"We are not soldiers, my lord."

That was clear. "I do not need protection." The prisoner smiled a little.

"If half what they say is true, I believe it, Champion. I accept, my lord." The others echoed him.

Link could not be pleased but was willing to allow them this mercy. The man on the ground peeked up at him.

Link helped him to his feet. The man dropped his eyes.

"I cannot get my childhood back," he told the prisoner. "And I would not wish returned, if it changed my fate today." Even if he could have just one memory of a mother, an embrace, love? Would that have only made his suffering worse?

The man swallowed. "I understand, my lord."

"Come."

Vin was in his element. Presented with a group of dirty, emaciated convicts, he puffed up his expansive chest and got to work.

Though chronically underfed, they had survived the harsh Hylian prison so far, speaking to strong constitutions. Most still had their teeth. But even shaved and scrubbed, dressed in borrowed uniforms, and standing at attention they looked woefully bedraggled.

Link had to smile. With rosy cheeks from soap and wide eyes, it was like a group of children come to see the Champion for a special feast day outing.

"You look ridiculous," Link told them. The Hylian guards' uniforms were ornate, with gold braid and gilded buttons. Vin had stripped them down to the bare essentials, but they were still silly looking.

The one who spoke before, Karn, adjusted his overtunic. "Never did like these."

"You wore one? As a Hylian soldier?"

Karn hesitated, reluctant to speak his treason. "Yes, Champion. On occasion."

Link made sure Vin was out of earshot. "Mine always rode up in the back."

They stared, startled, then grins peeked through. Bells sounded and Link sighed.

"Evening meal," he explained. "With the queen. And some of her court."

That scared them more than the thought of being executed by their Prince.

"You, Karn, and you, Gregin, was it?"

"Yes, Champion."

"Related to Gregin of the Dhahtin?"

"No, sir. Heard of him, though. A good man."

"He was. You two come with me. The rest of you, eat and have Vin or someone find you a place to sleep. You can't all stay in my chambers."

"Yes, sir."

"And get someone to make up some Ordonian colors."

"Yes, sir."

"And stay out of trouble."

They chuckled. "Yes, Champion."

Zelda stood between Sheik and Kyln, wondering why she had agreed to let Link into her country. The boy -the young man- caused her no end of trouble.

"I will not allow it!" Kyln said in his bellowing way. Too many years shouting at troops to speak moderately now.

Sheik was unruffled. "The Prince is allowed his own guard detail, by common courtesy as well as treaty."

"They are convicted felons!"

"They have sworn loyalty and obedience to their Champion."

"Their word means nothing!"

"Their word has been taken by Ordona. She will punish them if they betray Her Chosen Hero."

Kyln made his opinion of Ordona and her Champion known. Sheik bristled for the first time.

"He is the Hero. Do not disrespect him."

Zelda blinked at her guard. So did Kyln. The Captain of the Palace Guard backed down. A little.

"Her Majesty will have additional protection."

Sheik shrugged, aloof once more. "As you will."

Kyln glowered after him. "I do not like this, Your Majesty. Why did you allow this Ordon savage into the palace?"

She chose not to remind him that his guards had let him in. Or that a moat, walls, watchtowers, and men armed with crossbows could not keep him out, in any case.

"It is necessary."

Kyln was one who argued for repossessing the province by force. A weak spot on their flank, he always said. She wondered they were so lucky to have such a strong defense against the encroaching Shadow. The Demon Watch was known the breadth of Hyrule for its bravery and ferocity.

But the man merely grunted and went to bellow at someone else.

She hoped Link would come. She wouldn't put it past the boy -young man- to skip the event. Nothing official, but her magistrates were becoming impatient to get their hooks in him.

She berated herself. That was an unkind thought, but there it was. She felt the weight of the crown at her brow and sighed. She had seen her father this afternoon. He had remembered her name, this time.

All had assembled when a servant opened the door and bowed Link into the room. He strode in, sword at his hip again. Two men followed, both gaunt and sallow.

Talk trickled to a murmur. He ignored everyone and came to give her a short bow.

"Hyrule."

"Ordon."

He gave her a wry look. "I thought we agreed not for many years?"

"Champion, then. Or is it Captain?"

"Either are acceptable."

She hoped she would find an opportunity to kick him under cover of the table. "May I introduce…?"

He endured the introductions with cool poise. His drawl lilted out, his responses liberally peppered with 'ta' and 'nahn.'

A nice hard one, to his shin.

He made such a revenge impossible, however. After casually handing the Master Sword to one of his fumbling retainers, he settled in a chair and tucked his legs up, cross wise.

Blithely ignoring the looks exchanged between the Hylians, he sat back and surveyed the room with a glint in his eye. Zelda cast an anguished glance to Sheik. He saw her distress and addressed the Champion of the Goddess.

Link chuckled. "Nahn, Sheik. I am growing accustomed to them already."

With the boy -yes, the boy- distracted, Zelda set about managing the meal. No matter he sat cross-legged like a fortune teller, his neighbors were eager to speak with him. Zelda caught snippets as she ate. It was all innocuous until Lord Hyman elbowed in on the conversation.

"You are Ordon's adopted son, is that right?"

"I am."

"Who was your family before, then?"

The nobleman did not hear the danger in Link's tone. "I didn't have one."

"Orphaned? Hmph."

Link took a sip of the smooth wine served with the fish course. "The Gotkasi took me in at first. We stayed close, even after I joined Ordon's household." His laugh was artificial, none of the warmth she now knew. "Taught me the family business. It was a welcome break from studying with the priests."

Lady Ecclain neatly intercepted Hyman's response. "How kind of them! What is their business?"

"Goats."

Zelda set her utensils aside and tucked her hands in her lap.

Ecclain blinked furiously. "'Goats?'"

"Ta, my lady. Breed them, herd them. Milk them."

Now a good portion of the table was listening without even pretending not to. She bit her lip to stop her laughter.

Link was waxing poetic. "Takes skill, does goat herding. Sheep are easy, more tractable, ta? You need to guide a goat herd, not bunch it. Finding the leader, that's the key. Many times, I ended on my a-...er…back, trying to force a weldin along a path. 'Til I was taller, nahn? Then you learn the trick to wrestling them. Leverage, really. Though some brawn doesn't hurt."

Link swirled his wine and cast a quick, satisfied look over the spell-bound magistrates. "Lord Derrit, how many bushel tons a year does Fort Slate Port manage?"

Dessert was removed and the guests relaxing when Zelda was accosted by one of her magistrate's daughters. Serving as a lady-in-waiting, Misly lounged around the palace, flirted with the soldiers, and occasionally ran errands for her queen.

"Why have I not been introduced to this prince before?" she demanded.

"He has been in the palace for scarce a single day."

"And why," she continued undeterred, "Why did you not tell me he was beautiful?"

Zelda turned to see her gazing doe-eyed at the Champion. "Perhaps because I hadn't noticed."

Misly rolled her eyes. "My dear and most illustrious queen, you are blind."

Zelda laughed at her friend. For she was, no matter she was a fluffy-headed ninny. "He has other, more important attributes."

"Like shoulders," Misly murmured dreamily.

"Or a robust mining trade."

"And those hands."

"Really, Misly, you're drooling."

"Is he off-limits?"

"How do you mean?"

"This Champion thing. Has he sworn...?"

Zelda swatted her hand. "How should I know? That is a private matter between him and his Goddess."

"Such a waste," Misly mourned. She turned to Zelda with a bounce. "You won't say no, if he proposes, will you?"

Zelda shrugged. "That depends on the terms Ordon offers."

"'Terms?' I would take that man on any terms. I'd be happy in his hut drinking goat milk."

Yuck. She preferred bathing in it, by far.

Just then, he looked up and saw Misly ogling. He met Zelda's eyes and smirked.

The image of him, smeared with besum dye the same color as his eyes, laughing as milky water ran over his skin, lit fire through her whole body.

Misly prattled on. Zelda hastily swallowed a large gulp of wine. Too large; she coughed, and Sheik was there at once.

"My lady?"

She handed him her glass. "I'm fine," she strangled out. "Unwary swallow."

Then the Chef appeared, worried she disliked his choice of vintage. A glass of water had to be fetched and the situation explained repeatedly until everyone was updated on her aspiration.

"You are flushed," Misly noticed, fanning her.

Of course she was, imagining such things. Her fault for sniffing the vial of azual this morning, reminding her. Blasted boy. He strolled over. "What is the matter, my lady?"

Cursed, interfering, disrespectful, brave, funny, beautiful man!

She spoke lightly. "If I knew it was this easy to stop a party…"

Ages later, she escaped to her room. Ciela undressed her and readied her for bed. Zelda toyed with the cuffs of her dressing gown, picking at a stray thread.

Sheik came to her and sat wearily. "Has it really only been a day?"

She agreed the day had lasted a year; the dinner an eon. How did one man cause so much turmoil?

But he was not just a man.

"Sheik?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"Why do you trust him?"

"When you were in danger, he did not hesitate to defend you. On the plain, in Ordon."

Zelda hugged herself. He would never hesitate when protecting those he was responsible for. He told her himself, that first day.

Since when had she become his responsibility? It was a support she longed to lean on. Metaphorically.

Fingers tingling, she shut the vial of azual in a drawer and went to bed.

Was it an unspoken mandate all servants knew? To wake their masters at the bleeding crack of dawn?

"Champion," Hunt said. "My lord, your toilet is prepared."

Link swore into his pillow. Hunt only said, "And would you like a shave, sir?"

Link dragged himself up. He drank too much last night and berated himself for it. Hunt waited while he stretched, joints cracking.

"A pleasant sleep, my lord?"

"Ga'an welden ardik."

"That's physically impossible, sir. Happen I'm not as flexible as you, though. Now, if you'll sit."

Link splashed warm water on his face and groped for a towel. Link let the man guide him, yawning and wishing he was back in his room in the King' House. Or snuggled into a haystack, wrapped in a wool cloak. He'd take a flat rock on Mount Lanyru. Anything but upright and awake.

Hunt pulled his nightshirt over his head, still chatting. He suddenly stopped, mid-sentence. Link disentangled his arms. Hunt was staring at him. At his chest.

Link glanced down to his familiar scars. And the brand.

Hunt had gone pale. The Master Sword, still lying next to where he slept, roused to remind him of the man's past.

You agreed to work with the slaver.

Link handed him the tunic. "Ordona left it."

Hunt took the garment with shaking hands. "I see, my lord."

"Do you recognize it?"

"Y-yes, Champion."

It was a triangle with a second, smaller one cut out of the bottom. About the size of a large coin, it sat over his heart.

His next question was obvious. Hunt wilted into himself. "No, my lord. Not that clan."

Link grunted and pulled his fresh tunic over his head.

It was an inauspicious start to the day.

He usually never thought about the mark. He didn't remember getting it. Having been burned badly before, he could imagine the sheer, white agony of it. How anyone could do that to a child…?

Karn saw his face and stuttered into silence.

"C-captain?"

Link shook of his preoccupation. "Sorry, you were saying?"

"Some of them bloods -I mean, noblemen from last night are asking to speak with you."

Just what he needed. More staring, more reminders of his otherness, his unbelonging.

You belong to Me.

Their voices sang together, a chorus of reassurance.

Link set his shoulders. "Very well. Who's first?"

He lost track of the following days. Endless meetings, scores of faces and names, titles, appointments, honorifics.

Their attempts at subtlety would have been amusing if he had not heard the same thing hour after hour. If they did not have a beautiful young daughter (marriage optional), then they had a business venture (questionably legal) he was sure to be interested in. There were no qualms about discrediting their fellow magistrates and noblemen, if it gave an advantage.

Link broke into the queen's chambers simply to hide from it all.

She was sitting reading a stack of reports. Her lamp burned low and Sheik was nowhere to be found.

"What do you need, Captain?"

"Some peace," he said. "They are beating at my door."

She was unsympathetic. "You're the one claiming to be a prince."

"A decision I am regretting more each day."

She marked something and turned over a page. "And how do you find my court, Your Highness?"

"Complicated," he admitted. "But in general, less pernicious than I was expecting."

"I am pleased they surpassed your expectations."

He frowned at her. Something was bothering her.

"What's wrong?" he asked. It couldn't be the Shadow; the Sword had been quiet, only murmuring warning for a few of the courtiers.

"I am well."

The low light hid it, but her eyes were heavy. "What's happened?"

She made as if to speak, a sharp retort, he was sure. Then she sighed. "Father is unwell."

Link had not yet been allowed to meet the aged king. "How so?"

"Just…just the disease worsening. It is not unexpected." She pretended to read more of her reports, but instead played with her pen.

"I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "It is no matter. What have you learned this past week?"

Link let it go. "That I am glad to be no more than an orphaned goat herder."

She didn't smile. "And?"

"If I was the marrying type, I'd have my pick of your ladies-in-waiting. Some desperate father with twins hinted at concubines."

She pushed back from her desk. "Shall I break it to them you are wed to your Goddess?"

"No use. They've done their research."

"I am pleased they found something to motivate their studies, however inappropriate."

He stopped trying to make her laugh. "Zelda, tell me what's bothering you."

She drew her wrap tightly around her and yanked the tie into a knot. "I'm tired, that is all. How are you getting on with your new soldiers?"

Link gave his own sigh of exasperation. "They are many things, but not soldiers."

"My staff have noted their…uniqueness."

"At least they have taken their oath to the Goddess to heart. I cannot turn around but trip over one of them."

"You are here, alone," she said, eyebrow raised.

He stood. "And I should go. Or Ordona knows one or all of them will find a way to sneak in here and offer to steal something for me."

"Like what?"

"It took two days to convince Draal I really did not think absconding with your crown jewels was a way to promote peace."

"The filthy beast!"

"Wanted to sell them to the Zora, fill Ordon's coffers for our coming war."

"What war?"

Maybe this would amuse her? "When I refuse your hand and you declare war."

A small, startled laugh snuck out. "That's not usually how it works."

"I tried to explain that. But I doubt Draal has had the benefit of an education in classical Hylian literature."

She hid her smile, but he was satisfied. "I'll let you rest, my lady."

The wall was still warm from the afternoon sun. He made his way carefully down, the many embrasures and ornaments in the stone allowing easy climbing. If he ever built a castle, the walls would be sheer and mortared smooth.

He stilled and waited for the guards to pass. Then he leapt from the queen's tower to the next. He slid down the slate shingles and caught himself on a rain channel.

A kick of his feet and he swing out over the emptiness and under the overhang. There was an access hatch, likely for replacing roof tiles or cleaning windows. The dust on the hinges told him it had been many months since the last use.

Once inside, he slipped into the service corridors. Intent on their tasks, the palace staff's eyes slid off him. He kept to the dark edges until he could move to the normal passageways.

Even these were quiet this time of night. He slowed, enjoying the stillness and the cool air inside the keep.

Wait!

He paused.

Listen!

Where? The murmur of voices drifted from his left. He followed them, his boots soundless.

It was a little used wing of the palace. Suites swathed for the farming season, store rooms, upper servant quarters. Link followed the Sword's guidance until he found the source.

The door was too thick to make out the words. Two men, possibly.

Over there. Link moved quickly, picking the door's simple lock with a practiced twist. The walls inside were thinner. There was a connecting door.

The Sword identified the speakers first.

Traitor.

It was Karn, the former smuggler. And one of the Magistrates, Jyuen, Jeren?

Jharen.

"…will fulfill your end?" Karn was demanding.

Jharen's deeper voice rumbled. "Of course. Full pardon."

"And the money? Don't do me good ending up a beggar again."

"Every silver, as promised."

"You back out, I'll kill all a'you bastards."

"My friend-"

"You're not my friend."

Karn left, shutting the door with a heavy thud. Jharen followed a few minutes later.

Link stilled his harsh breaths. Stupid, liking the man. But what deal had they struck?

Kill him.

Not until Link learned what he needed to know.

They were all in his suite when he arrived.

Karn stepped forward, "My prince, I must-"

The Sword made a hissing sigh as Link drew it. Karn froze, chin straining up as the tip pressed into his throat.

"Give me a reason not to kill you."

The others pressed together. Karn held up his hands.

"My prince-"

"Don't," he barked. "Don't dare to pretend."

Karn's breaths came fast and shallow. He swallowed noisily. But he persisted.

"My prince, please. I must warn you."

"What did Jharen promise?"

"How did…?" His skin dented as the pressure increased. "Please, my lord. Your life is in danger. The queen's life-"

He choked off, collar twisted in Link's fist. Karn's toes brushed the carpet. "When?"

"Tonight. Midnight. Kill the queen, claim she was poisoning the king."

"How?"

"Assassins. I am to let them in, claim to have a message from you. Implicate you, and you'll be executed, too. A complete coup, claim the king is in his right mind."

"Swear it! Swear to Ordona!"

"By the Goddess, my prince, it is true." The Sword sang with his sincerity. He staggered as Link released him.

"Pack, now," he told the others. "Meet us at the stables on the south gate. Tell them I received an urgent message from Ordon. Have a horse ready for the queen.

"You, come with me." Karn hurried to follow him into his bedchamber. "You will meet them as planned. Once you've let them in, meet the others at the stables. Where is Sheik in all this?"

"To be overwhelmed and killed."

Link snorted. "Think highly of themselves." Karn tightened the straps of his bracers.

"They are of the Yigga clan, sir. Very skilled. Please, be careful."

Link settled the Sword on his back. "I will be."

His heart raced, a familiar feeling of excitement and wariness. He loved it, knew it was dangerous, but still wanted it. The Goddess would shield him, he knew. But Their touch would only do so much.

He took a different path through the palace this time. Running along the inner wall, climbing and jumping from the watchtower to the lower roof. His steps were muffled, even on the flagstone reaches.

He danced around a watchman, turning to see what noise disturbed the night's peace. How many bells had sounded last? Was she asleep or still sitting at her desk?

No guard looked on from the opposite tower. Nor from the crenellations below. Dead? Or a larger conspiracy?

Sweat ran down his neck as he pulled over her balcony railing. He stopped, hidden in the shadows. No movement inside. No light.

The door moved silently. He stepped in, feeling the stillness of the air. Perfume, paper, wood, beeswax.

Her breaths were just louder than the wind, a gentle motion in the darkness. She gripped his wrist, thrashing as his hand closed over her mouth.

"It's me."

The pale light of the night shone in her eyes. She stilled and he felt her tremors.

"You're in danger. We must leave."

He let her go then. She sat up. Putting his head next to hers, he asked, "Where is Sheik?"

"He sleeps next door. There is a hidden latch."

Link gripped her arm to stop her. He heard something.

They are coming.

"Hide." She slid out of bed and rolled under the tall frame. Link took five precious seconds to place the pillows under the blankets, then stepped back into the darkness.

Voices outside. He knew Karn. Her maid protested. She cried out. Hurt? Movement from Sheik. Dare he warn the man?

"Your Majesty, I have urgent news!"

Link caught the concealed door before it slammed open.

"Hold!" he hissed. Sheik's tall form towered over him.

He had the sense to whisper. "Gotkasi?"

"Assassins!"

"Your Majesty? It is most urgent!"

Flickers at the balcony. They were surrounded.

"Take the door," Link ordered.

"Force it," a new voice said.

The crunch of splintering wood mixed with breaking glass. Five, eight, twelve forms moved in, swathed in black.

Idiots. Brown was much better.

The first died without a sound. Only when his body thundered to the ground did they pause. Another fell, choking with Sheik's knife in his throat.

The light from the doorway glinted off the Master Sword. It was not demon blood, but it was still satisfied.

Left! Behind you!

Link ducked and drove a dagger into the man's thigh. Well trained; no scream, only a grunting cry of pain. Link silenced him and whirled to see Sheik fall back.

The Sword ripped through the air, the assassin's neck, and plunged into the wall. Link jumped after it, wishing he had his straight blades. A dropped long knife would suffice.

He pulled Sheik to his feet. The assassins floundered, unsure of where the attack would come from next.

Six more.

"I'm fine," Sheik panted. "Get her out!"

Link wrenched the Sword free. His face was hot, exertion, blood. His blood?

No. They know!

"She's gone!" one called.

"Here!"

The queen did not scream as they dragged her free. An assassin yelped, jerking back with her dagger through his hand. Good girl.

Link tackled them, slamming two of them to the ground. The long knife betrayed its clan, burying deep in one's chest.

They tried to pin him. A jaw broke from his kick, an arm, a knee. The air was thick with sweat and cries of pain.

Still one stood.

Link kept her behind him as the last assassin circled. Where was Sheik? And Karn?

"Stand aside."

Wait.

Link did, following the movement of the thin blade he carried.

"Move, boy."

Wait.

Why?

"Get out of-" He choked, the gleaming tip of a sword piercing his chest. It withdrew and he fell. Sheik did as well.

"No!" She rushed to him.

He breathed raggedly, trying to stand.

"Go!" he urged. "There are more!"

"No, Sheik!"

"Please, Zelda. Link, take her."

They are coming!

Where was Karn?

Following your orders. Run!

"I'll be fine," Sheik said, hand pressed to his side. "Go. I will find you."

Link grabbed the reluctant queen around the waist. She fought him.

Zelda, go!

Their command was deafening. She froze, then turned to the door to Sheik's chambers. "This way!"

She gripped his hand, heedless of the blood. They ran through Sheik's small room. A wall of carved shelves blocked them. She twisted a sconce and a narrow slit opened.

Link managed to press through after her. Grateful he wasn't in full armor, he took the lead should the assassins know this route.

"Left! Right!" The passage wormed through the palace. He lost his orientation until they drummed over a wooden floor.

"East Reaches!" she explained. His mental map righted itself. "Not that way!" She tugged him up instead of down.

"The stables!"

"Trust me!"

He did. How had not seen the gap in the walls? But it wasn't large, barely wide enough for his breadth and requiring he stoop to pass through.

They broke out into a closet. He skidded to a halt before slamming against the door. She crashed into him. Holding her steady, they both panted in the darkness.

"What-?"

She pressed hot fingers to his mouth. He listened over the rhythm of his heart. Nothing.

Her whispers brushed over his cheek. "Stay here."

"Absolutely not."

She opened the door slowly. It was dim, but bright enough to see the opulent furnishings. She crept over the thick carpet.

Through a half-open door, he could see a man in the wide bed. He slept fitfully, the bedclothes trailing onto the floor.

Someone sighed and rose wearily from a chair. They twitched the blankets into place and returned to their seat.

She glanced back to him and he understood. He easily overpowered the watcher, holding pressure on his throat until he went limp. Carefully lowering him to the ground, Link watched as Zelda approached the bed.

She stopped for an agonizing moment. She stooped and kissed the old man's forehead. He muttered but did not wake.

The king.

Then she drew a chain from around her neck and used the key there to unlock a small chest of drawers. Jewels glinted in the candle lights, gold, silver. She took only a small box.

Link's entire being hummed, every inch of him alive and eager. She cradled the package in the palm of her hand. He reached for it.

"Link, no."

He touched it, feeling the slick wood.

My Champion, STOP.

He did, confused, angry. Desperate. He wanted it, more than he wanted her, more than he'd desired anything in his life.

He could take it. She was weak, trembling. She was nothing to him. If she resisted-

"Link, please."

There was a crack, a shift of air. He blinked and his hand dropped.

"What-?" He shook his head to clear it. "What are we…?" She stood before him, looking at him with fear in her eyes.

"We need to go, Link."

What were they doing here? "Yes. Yes, come on."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her after him.

Alarm was spreading as they dropped into the stable yard. The guards and stablemen sat bound and gagged, a few blinking blearily with blood trickling down their faces. His men were ready with the horses.

"We haven't much time," Gregin said.

Link boosted Zelda into a saddle. "Can you jump?"

"I will not fall," she promised.

He jumped to his own mount. "Did you find weapons?"

"Aye, my lord."

"Protect the queen."

In this time of peace, the inner gates stood open. They raced through the little used tunnel leading to the palace's pleasure gardens. Abutting one of the lesser arms of the Irritara, it led away from the main palace armaments.

Shouts of alarm rose as they passed the watchtower. But these warnings were ignored as torches and soldiers massed in the queen's tower.

Link stayed by her, shouting directions to the man on point. Arrows ricocheted from the statuary.

"Sir, the wall!" one called back.

"Jump it!"

Praying to Ordona and Her sister that the horses would not baulk, Link drove them straight for it. Built low to allow a view of the river, they plunged over and into the water below.

Cold, but not swift, the horses startled for a moment, then set about swimming for the opposite shore. Soon they were heaving onto the rocks, water streaming from them in torrents.

"Don't stop!" Link commanded. "Make for the bridge!"

This side of the city was newer, built more spacious for wealthier residents. Their private guards called challenge. The Ordonians swept by, the wind chilling their sodden clothes.

Soon they were at the bridge. These gates were locked.

"Fall back," Link said. "Stay out of range! Man the gate!"

They slowed, allowing him to pull ahead. He spurred his mount, racing for the gatehouse.

More arrows cut the air around him. A bolt hit his chest, glancing off the mail hidden under his tunic and clattering to the ground.

Then he was past their covering range. The guards planted their spears. He held steady, waiting until the last moment. The horse jerked back, screaming as it danced on two legs. Link jumped free. His momentum carried him over the heads of the soldiers.

They followed his arc, mouths agape. He landed and rolled, Sword flashing. They fell, spears slashed in half, tripping over each other.

The stairs hampered his strikes. Trying to not kill them didn't help, either. They chased him up, herding him toward the rain of death waiting above. Shouts below told him his men were following his plan. The scrape of the gates opening rumbled under the clash of steel on steel.

He came through the upper door at a sprint. Steel arrowheads glinted in the moonlight. He dove forward, feeling the wind of their passing. They rattled off the stone walls, sparks flashing.

A good idea. He shoved through the panicking archers. He jumped onto the battlements themselves and ran to the brazier burning at its end.

Braced against the tower, he kicked with both feet. The guards yelped, unable to reach him past the crackling cinders. He kicked again. The signal fire tottered and fell to the wooden walkway below.

Would Hylia burn her own city? To protect this woman, he would demand it. Smoke billowed up, searing his face.

Iron on the stones below: hooves past the gate.

Link went straight over the side. The rope he grabbed burned his palms. He landed painfully and staggered up.

"Here!" He gripped the hand reaching down for him and swung up behind.

"Ride!"

Looking back, he could see them battling the flames. He sent a quick prayer of apology to the Goddess of princes and kings.

They reached the fields in minutes, but the horses were tiring. Link slowed them and made count. All were alive, including Karn.

"Injuries?" he asked.

"Shallow," they assured him. Link wiped his own blood from his face. A narrow slice angling from his forehead back. An arrow, most likely.

"You six. Take the south road. Circle around past Keysmit and wait for us in the Downs."

"Yes, sir."

"Get out of those uniforms by sunrise."

"All respect, sir, but I think we know how to avoid the watch."

Chuckles rumbled out of the darkness.

Link laughed with them. "Ta, then. Be safe."

They left at a trot, moving off the road to follow the edge of a fallow field.

Link slid off his mount and went to Zelda's. He helped her to the ground. She trembled violently, damp and dressed in only her nightdress. Hunt drew off his overtunic. Link pulled it over her head.

"We go on foot. You four, take the market road. Stay out of sight. We'll meet you on the other side of Grenning in four days."

Hunt protested. "You'll be caught."

"We won't. Buy as many supplies as you can without raising suspicion."

Hunt reached down. Link shook his hand.

"Be safe, my prince."

Soon they were alone in the darkness. She sat quietly as he wrapped her feet in strips of his tunic. She made no complaint as they half-ran through the fields, scrambling over boulders and between fence rails. When her legs finally gave out, she clung to him while he carried her through the predawn.

And when the sun rose, she wept into his chest as they lay hidden in an abandoned hay barn, shivering in the chill of the morning.