Chapter Eight: Divinations

The Bottomless Swamp had a bottom. It was just a sinking, sticky mass of putrid mud. Stepping unwarily off the path, Zelda sank to her knee. Sorrint tugged her up by her armpit.

"Thanks," she grumbled. Fatigue was making her clumsy and she berated herself for it.

They had marched from before dawn to well into the night every day the past week. The trail was winding, following the solid sections of the swamp. Karn and Vernin, convicted of smuggling goods across this very stretch of land, consulted a map.

She wondered if it they should trust it. Bought off a local, it felt like they were traveling in circles. She looked southeast, wanting to sprout wings and fly there as fast as possible. Had he felt this same drive? The delay was driving her mad.

"This way," Vernin decided, folding the map and tucking it away. "Should be able to cross the Cruoth this late in the year."

Zelda wearily followed along. At least the horses carried her kit. But even the lightened armor was heavy and her boots long since saturated.

The Cruoth was a flood plain, fed by a seasonal river. They worked their way across, tugging the hesitant horses along. Ordonian cattle were bred for mountains; they liked sloshing through the mud as little as she did.

Her mount fell behind, fretting. She soothed it, murmuring the clumsy Ordonian she knew.

Someone is following!

Zelda froze for a moment, then kept up her strokes. The horse shook its head, blowing. Zelda worked the animal around until she could peer over the saddle.

Nothing.

Someone is there.

She stayed still, letting her eyes unfocus, take in the wide, shimmering marshlands behind.

There!

A shadow, moving some miles behind.

Tracking you.

She tugged her mount along. The others waited by the shore. She stepped on to the firmer ground.

"Someone is following us."

Sorrint glanced at her, then the horizon. "How far behind?"

"A few miles."

"We'll lose them. Mount up."

"No," she countered. "Make camp. Let them get close."

He wanted to argue. "Yes, ma'am."

Karn found them a copse of water-dead trees. No fire, but he had a small metal box that he coaxed a tiny blaze into. Zelda warmed her hands by its soft glow, listening for what was following.

The river hissed, horses grunted. The breathing of the men, the wind, the faintest crackle from the coals.

The shadows here were clear and fresh. They did not scrape against the ground as they did in the Watch. Nor did they cling to the corner of her vision.

There.

A darker shape moved to the edge of the flood plain. It looked out over the shimmering flat and started to pick across.

"It's crossing the river," she told Sorrint quietly. He peered the way she indicated.

"I don't see it."

Truly? It stood out against the night as clearly as a sunny day.

"Not a crytch," she said. It moved wrong. And the sound of the shadows didn't change as it neared. "I'm going to catch it."

Another bitten off protest. "Be careful."

She was so muddy already, it was nothing to lie against the dirt and watch as the form moved slowly across the river bed. She glanced back to their camp. The wind carried the slightest scent of smoke, but no light through the dense, dead thicket.

Had his heart raced like hers, fear, anticipation, excitement? She almost hoped it was something to fight. She was tired of mud and monotony, the hiding.

The figure reached the more solid ground of the bank. It stood for a moment, looking at the ground. Tracking them? No crytch, this, looking for a meal, but some earthly entity following them for a reason.

It was small, she thought. And oddly shaped, hooded. She crept closer. It found a tangle of deadwood, likely pushed downstream during the spring floods.

No fire for them, either; the wood too wet and the plain too exposed. She waited, watching as it slowly relaxed and fell into a fitful sleep.

The voice she heard was puzzled.

An enemy? it wondered.

She didn't think so. Buy why was it following them? She stood, drawing her sword, but not feeling the same edge to the night air, the tension when a crytch was near. This was almost…familiar.

Her steps made no sound, the comforting presence of Ordona cloaking her. Link's ability to penetrate her castle defenses seemed obvious, now. How could her poor mortal soldiers compete with an incarnation of the Hero of Legend? But then, he wasn't, She said. What did that make him?

The figure shivered and made a small snuffling noise. Zelda rushed forward, alarm, anger, fear all breaking through her calm focus.

"Enon!"

The boy started and jumped up, hands out and ready to fight. They stared at each other. Then the boy dropped his eyes.

"I won't go home," he said, somewhere between defiant and sullen. "We're too far from Ordon. You can't spare the men."

She had nothing to say. He was right, of course.

He peeked up at her. He took a deep breath and straightened. "I want to help save him."

"It's dangerous."

"I know."

"You aren't…" Skilled enough, strong enough, ready for this task.

He saw her thoughts. "Neither are you."

She would have paddled his rear-end if it hadn't been perfectly true. Instead she sheathed her blade. "Come on."

Enon stood quiet under the soldiers' scolding. Schemes to return him to Ordon were proposed at once, with all debate returning to the truth the boy had spoken. They needed to move forward. And Ordon would not be safe for much longer.

In the end, he ate a large helping of their travel provisions and curled up between two of the soldiers. Sorrint watched him fall asleep and sighed.

"Thank the Goddess he made it this far unharmed," he said. Zelda agreed, but how had he managed it? They were not trying to be stealthy, but they had been moving fast.

Enon carried a mix of defiance and pride as they continued their march at dawn.

"My horse went lame in that forest before the marshlands," he explained. He chewed mouthfuls between phrases. "I was only a day, maybe two behind you. I knew you were heading southeast, so I cut across the Lillu to make up time."

Sorrint was not ready to be amused by his cleverness. He spoke sternly. "How do you think your mother felt, finding you gone?"

Enon hunched his shoulders but met the soldier's eyes steadily. "I wrote her a letter."

"A letter?"

"And I left my sword. Ordona will watch over me."

Zelda truly admired Sorrint's self-control. He went a little red in the face and took a deep breath. But in the end, he just let it out in a gusty sigh and walked away.

Enon followed him with anxious eyes. He saw her watching and scowled. He seemed to have left his respect of her back in Ordon with his offering to the Goddess.

"Thirsty?" She held out a water skin. He shook his head and weaved through the group to walk by one of the soldiers.

She hoped they would reach the Zora soon.

The air was muggy, the heat not lessoned by the low clouds. The sun was a shimmering disk behind them, the tent canvas giving no relief from its influence.

"My Lord?" It was one of the commoners, a so-called officer.

"What?"

"The man you requested is here."

The mystic came in, eyes darting around the tent. He found the figure sitting by the table and bowed low.

"My Lord," he said in a breathless voice. "An honor to serve."

"Pray you serve me better than the last of your kind."

The unfortunate man swallowed noisily. "I will do my best, my lord."

He was beckoned to the empty chair. Pale faced and pale eyed, he blinked myopically at the man staring him down.

"My lord, is…is it true?" he asked in a whisper. "Has the prophecy come to fruition?"

"What do you know of prophecy?"

The mystic flourished a small cloth bag. "I have a gift in reading the bones, my lord." He hurried on as the hard mouth sneered. "And divination, my lord. I can show you what you seek."

He waited, sweating from more than heat.

"Show me."

The metal dish was heavy and dented. The Mystic arranged it on the table and polished its dull surface vigorously.

"To make a true Viewing, I need something of the target's, a focus."

A scrap of fabric dropped to the table. "Use this."

The old man fingered it gingerly, avoiding the blood stains as best he could. He paused, some of his fear lost in professional focus.

He risked a swift look up to the dark eyes. "This has been touched by powerful magic."

A sharp, humorless laugh. "Some say the most powerful. Now, find her."

Never before had he focused his gift so intently. The clear water poured into the dish stilled at his command, forming a smooth mirrored surface.

"Impressive," came the amused murmur. "You actually have some real magic."

"What…" He had to swallow to moisten his throat. "What is this woman's name?"

"Zelda."

The mystic repeated the strange, foreign word. He spoke again, desperately aware of the hard eyes on him. The water stirred, not unlike wind on the saltpans after a summer thunderstorm. Muddy colors swirled.

The man leaned forward as the mystic channeled the magic, focusing the images.

The woman was lovely. She looked out of the water, her eyes bright and keen. She was speaking, the others near her only shadows.

"Where is she?"

The clay and ivory figures clattered to the tabletop.

"Far to the south." The mystic continued with sardonic eyes boring into him. "An-an ocean. Near an ocean."

The frown was thoughtful and the sudden smile terrifying. "I see…what else?"

Another cast and a chill crawled up his back. "This woman is shielded by a divine power." He did not like that at all. Dabbling in other peoples' holy wars was precarious. "She carries a light."

A grunt.

A third toss. His fingers trembled. "I see a man." The dark lord was losing interest. Boredom was deadly when dealing with this kind of power. "A young man…maybe a lover?"

The man stilled, half risen from his chair. "What?"

There was no way to take it back. And he could not speak a lie, not if the bones had been cast. He tried not to sound terrified. He failed.

"She travels with a man, my lord, a soldier. I cannot see who. Please forgi-"

The mystic grunted, too surprised to feel the pain before the day darkened into nothingness.

The body fell sideways and lay sprawled on the floor. Her image faded as the soothsayer's magic bled into the ground.

He sat and stared into the shallow water. Her hands closed on his shoulders.

"I do not appreciate you slaying my servants."

"You can find others, I'm sure."

"Why such temper? Can it be you have tender feelings for the girl?"

He shook her off. "His memories."

"Shall I take-?" He gripped her wrist as she reached for him.

"Touch my thoughts and I will kill you as I did your acolyte."

She laughed. "Even such as you could not destroy me."

"Do not test me. I have had enough of your kind's meddling."

"I recall you asked me for help."

"And I thank you for it. Now be gone."

"Always so arrogant," she murmured. "So much time and so little has changed."

He was alone. Servants cleared away the body.

"Leave them," he commanded as one began to gather the divination bones. They bowed and hurried out.

The brittle figures were smooth and cool in his hand. Crudely carved into the likeness of various mystical beasts, they were ugly things that held ugly magic. The metal dish rang as he tossed them into the shallow water.

The image was blurry, but he knew well the tint of her hair. There were others. Soldiers, as the man had said, marching with her toward the ocean. A dark figure at her side, protecting, watching. Had she truly found another so soon?

He welcomed anger and pain; they fed his purpose. But this ache weakened him, distracted. The boy's memories huddled in the back of his mind. It burned to touch them, but he needed them, needed the knowledge of the land the boy had gathered in his short, pitiful life. Needed the knowledge of her.

The Shadow Blade ripped through the metal dish as if it were silk. The parched ground absorbed the water quickly, until only the bones were left.

No one liked to be awoken in the middle of the night. Especially with a knife pressed against their throat.

Philns, the Magistrate of Asmore, held as still as he could, wondering why the assassin had taken the chance to wake him, rather than kill him outright.

"Who are you?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Tell me, Philns, who was it under the queen's death-hood?"

Philns could not speak. He had heard the expression numb with terror, but never experienced it until now. The bed, the room, everything faded to nothingness. Everything except the warm steel against his skin and the shadow of the Sheik'ah standing over him.

"Well? Or did you not care, just some random woman, stolen in the night, slaughtered for your masquerade?"

"Felon," Philns croaked. "Murderer, sentenced to death."

"Ironic. And whose brilliant idea was it? Not yours, surely. You haven't the brains."

Philns could not speak the name. He gulped soundlessly.

"What is this now? A Vow of Silence? What powerful friends you have. What did they pay you, traitor?"

Philns trembled uncontrollably. "Mercy," he pleaded, groping, grasping at the man. The knife pressed in, a line of icy fire.

"Mercy?" The cool tone roughened. The knife withdrew, but before he could draw a grateful breath, a hand closed around his throat, slippery with Philn's own blood.

"You will wish I had the mercy to kill you before I am done with you. Now, Speak."

Sheik wiped his hands distastefully on Philn's bedclothes. The sniveling worm was still alive, but not much more than gibberish escaped him now. The Silence had been powerful, hard to unravel and likely breaking the man's mind with it. Still, there had been some useful bits.

This wasn't his usual style, leaving so much evidence. But he needed to find her and the boy soon, before the Shadow advanced. If these conspirators panicked, so much the better.

Chrestly was a florid man, both in complexion and dress. Sheik held a salver out to him, the freshly poured glass of wine dark against the white table cloth. The man took it absently, continuing his conversation with his wife.

Sheik bowed and stepped back. An hour passed as they enjoyed a leisurely meal. Several other glasses of wine were consumed, the first whisked away to the kitchens to be washed with the other tableware.

Chrestly coughed over his berry tart. And again, the natural red in his cheeks deepening to purple as he choked. Madame Chrestly started shrieking. Servants rushed around, useless as the drug took effect.

After the man's body was carried out, Kyln marched around the room, bellowing orders. He was an effective captain and kept his soldiers in line and the palace secure from general intruders. Detective? Not his strong suit. He walked passed Sheik three times and didn't recognize him.

"Test all of this food!" Kyln barked. "Lock down the kitchens! Question everyone who came in or out of this room!"

Sheik was held for interrogation until nearly dawn. Pacquin's was boarded up, but the smell of baking bread drifted from the chimneys. The kitchen girl greeted him with a cheeky grin. She had flour on her nose.

"Out all night again?" she said. "And wanting your breakfast now I suppose?"

"If you're not busy, lass."

She flicked her towel at him, sending a cloud of flour dust in his direction. "Oh, no, not at all. It's not as if I've two hundred sour rolls to bake!"

He grabbed one from the tray she carried past. "Any jam, lass?"

"Out!"

He went, chuckling as her threats drifted after him. She really was pretty young thing, as plump as her dumplings and feisty. If he were ten years younger, she'd be just his type.

Madame Pacquin was sorting linens. "Morning, then."

Sheik grunted, his mouth full.

"Heard from my sister's boy that Magistrate Chrestly died last night. Choked on a berry tart."

"Bound to happen sooner or later, the way the man shoveled them in."

She pursed her lips. "I don't hold with murder, even if it may be justified."

Sheik had no such qualms. And besides, it wasn't a deadly poison. Just a paralytic. It was not his fault the man had a bad heart. Just look at how he ate!

She pursed her lips disapprovingly, but her curiosity got the better of her. "He was involved, then?"

"Money for the assassins."

She sniffed. "Beast."

Sheik watched as she folded cloths with crisp motions. "Tell me, madam. Were you happy under Zelda's rule?"

She sent him a scorching look. "Am I to be assassinated if I don't say yes?"

"I want to know the truth."

Madam Pacquin set aside one stack and began on another. "For the most part. The taxes have been a burden these past few years. I know they are being used to strengthen Timun and Boethus, but many feel our coins should stay inside our walls."

"That why you water the ale?"

She chased him out with a broom.

It had been years since Zelda had come to the ocean. She had forgotten the power of the wind, how clean it was. She stood on an outcrop of rock and watched the waves crash far below.

"Amazing." Fulin, one of the Ordonian soldiers, shielded his eyes against the sun.

"First time?" she asked.

He grinned. "The Watch is the furthest I've been."

They followed a narrow track along the cliff as it dipped down to the beach below. The seagrass hissed as the tough stalks bent under the endless wind. It even lifted her braids with the strongest gusts.

Enon skipped ahead, running between them with excited shouts as he counted seagulls and picked up interesting rocks.

"Look at the tiny boats!" he called to them. The sea itself shimmered and the colored sails stood out against it like bright pennants.

The small fishing village greeted them with cheery nonchalance, as if thirty-odd ragged soldiers arrived most sunny afternoons looking to charter a ship.

"Where to?"

"I need to get to the Zora," Zelda said. "As fast as possible."

The woman dropped a fish head into a barrel and selected a fish from another. She flourished her knife, neatly decapitating it.

"We don't sail in those waters," she said firmly. "We abide by the treaty."

"Then who does?" Sorrint demanded.

The woman eyed him. "I am sure I don't know."

Zelda was confused. "What treaty?"

The woman beheaded another fish. "We stay on our side of the Goddesses, they stay on theirs."

"Goddesses?"

The woman jerked her chin. "Away east, past the Dippers, around the headland, follow the roaring current, until you hit the cross."

Sorrint's look of confusion was almost adorable. "Um…do you have a map?"

The woman chuckled. "Tell me, my boy, you ever set foot off shore?"

He smiled a little. "No. Ma'am. Farmers, my kin."

"Makes sense. Talk like your mouth is full of straw."

She directed them to a ship moored along a shallow pier. Eayn had to grab Enon by the collar to stop him plunging off the edge into the kicking waves.

An elderly sailor went over his sea chart with them as Karn sketched a rough map on the back of his.

"Not many are willing to go out that far," they were cautioned. "Unpredictable waters. And the Zora aren't welcoming to uninvited guests."

Karn measured angles with his hand and drew three circles. "Rocks, I take it, these Goddesses?"

The sailor sucked at a clay pipe. "Rocks? No. Statues."

"In the middle of the sea?" Zelda asked, amazed. "Who built them?"

The man shrugged. "Worn, but you can see they were carved at one time."

They bought fresh provisions and moved on. Hopefully few enough people passed through to avoid word of their passage until they were long gone.

Sorrint did not like the exposure of the dunes. "There is nowhere to retreat," he explained when Zelda asked him about his restlessness. "We're visible for miles. Even the Watch has canyons, places of refuge."

Enon picked blades of seagrass and made whistles with them pulled taut between him thumbs. Zelda had never seen such a thing.

"How do you do that?" she asked, part real interest, part friendly overture. He cast her a scornful look. She broke off a blade and held it out. "Please?"

Irritated by her girlish uselessness, he showed her how to hold the plant. To her surprise, a short squeak escaped.

Enon watched her curiously. "You never seen that?"

"Never."

He frowned. "None of the boys in your city know how, then?"

Zelda looked down at his still plump cheeks. "They may have, but I was not allowed to play with them."

"Why not?"

"I was the princess."

He didn't understand. "I'm basically a prince."

"Yes. But…" How to explain to this boy who put lizards in water pails and ran barefoot through the streets of his city? "I…I just wasn't allowed. To play."

They had fallen behind the group. He stopped and turned to face her. "At all?"

Her affection for her father gave her twinge of guilt. He loved her dearly, but there were things about her life she vowed never to put her children through.

"Well, I did play. But not outside. And certainly not with anyone not a child of a Magistrate or wealthy family."

Enon looked horrified. "You never played outside?"

"We rode, of course, but only in the riding park. And we walked in the gardens in fine weather." Today was not 'fine' by any description. Mist gusted by them, coating their faces and turning their clothing damp.

He gave her a long thoughtful look. "No wonder you're so bad at everything."

She smiled because it was true. "And why I am in awe of all the ways you can whistle."

He grinned. "Link taught me." The smile faded as he realized what he had said. Anger gathered between his eyes, but also grief. He did not retort rudely as she had come to expect whenever the Champion was mentioned. Instead he swallowed mightily and asked, "Do you think he's alright?"

She risked touching his shoulder and was not shrugged off. "Link is the strongest person I know. Stronger than any Goron. He'll fight."

Enon smiled a little at her Goron comment, but it didn't last. "Is it true? That he…that he is not the Hero? That he was the Enemy all along?"

"Ganon is the enemy. Our enemy. Link's enemy. We will defeat him."

Enon did move from under her hand then. He walked a few paces, then turned back. "But if you kill Ganon, won't that kill Link, too?"

Zelda swallowed her own tears. "I pray to the Goddess that it won't."

Enon examined her. "Do you love him?"

She was taken aback and hedged. "What do you mean?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm ten years old, Zelda. I know where babies come from."

A laugh bubbled up, as brilliant as her flush. "Yes, Enon. I do. But I would fight for him none-the-less. He is my friend. And I owe him my life."

Enon wiped mist from his cheeks. "Does he love you?"

"That I don't know." She hoped, if only for it to give him strength. Would it? Or would Ganon find a way to twist that and use it against her?

"Sorrint does."

Zelda jerked back from her dark thoughts. "What?"

"I said, Sorrint does."

"Sorrint loves Link?"

Enon had reached the end of his patience with her. "By the Goddess, you are stupid. And they let you be queen?"

He protested as she soundly cuffed him. "For your disrespect of the Goddess and your fellow royal. Come along, now. The others will be worried."

They were. Sorrint and Fulin were hurrying back along the narrow path, swords out.

"My fault," Zelda explained. "We were talking, we're fine."

Enon cast her a disdainful look. Sorrint cuffed him again, but lightly. "You should know better, Enon. The Watch never rests." Enon grumbled an apology and went ahead with Fulin. Sorrint looked as if he would like to give her a smart rap on the head, as well.

"What were you talking about?"

Zelda shrugged. "Just getting to know each other."

He gestured for her to proceed him. "How goes your progress?"

"Minimal."

"He'll come around."

"I hope so. I'll be making treaties with him in ten years' time." If there was a Hyrule in a decade. If they lost this war, then who knew what chaos would exist. "Or maybe have to marry him, Hylia preserve me."

The silence lasted a little too long, giving her plenty of time to consider Enon's words: Sorrint does.

"None of your magistrates would be so insane." He was amused, but something else, too.

"You haven't met my noblemen. Unless you joined your prince on any of his galivants through my country?" Cowardice, throwing the Champion out there like a shield.

"Not I. You think his Hylian is bad?"

The others were waiting for them. Enon sat on a horse, snuggled between the saddlebags as he munched an early apple. He looked from Sorrint to her and made a face which spoke volumes.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

There was more water as they marched south, the temperature noticeably cooler, even at midday. He stopped his horse by a shallow pool.

Dismissing his captains, he waited until he was alone.

The divination magic was crude, especially in this irregular pool. But the sun silvered the surface enough to form a faint picture. Still moving toward the ocean. The bones were clear about that. Had she reached the Zora yet?

It was easier to find her. Was she growing more powerful? A stronger draw to his dowsing?

She was smiling, her braids wiped back by wind. The others moved around her. He could not see faces, nor how many.

The image rippled and dissolved. His horse lifted its head from the water. He clutched the mystic's bones in his fist until they bent under the strain.

He should throw them in the pool. He knew where she was going and way. He knew how to thwart her. He didn't need this magic any longer. Didn't need her.

"My lord?"

He turned. "What?"

"A village, my lord. At the bottom of the valley."

"Take it. We'll camp there tonight. Organize hunting parties and prepare rations. The mountains ahead of us are treacherous."

"Yes, sir."

He doubted most of them would make it through the passes ahead. They were plains people, not bred for the rigors of travel in these hills. The survivors of this pitiful horde would make ideal feed for the crytch waiting in the Watch.

He smiled in anticipation. The horse shied back, kicking and snorting.

The bones sank into the mud of the pond.

Sheik waited in the quiet room, stuffy with the smell of leather and wool. He itched his nose to prevent a sneeze. How the man could stand to live in here…

Speaking of which. The stairs creaked under his steps. A rattle, keys most likely. And a pause.

The door opened slowly, but Raphio did not enter. Sheik sat forward.

"Come, brother. No need to fear."

Raphio stayed out in the passage. "Isn't there?"

Sheik held out his hands. "I am unarmed."

The younger Sheik'ah did not look relieved. "As if you needed a weapon to kill me."

Sheik dropped his bantering tone. "Why would I want to kill you, my friend?"

"Word was you were dead. Why did you stay hidden from us?"

"I did not know who to trust."

Raphio came in, then, and hung his satchel on a hook by the door. "And you've decided you can trust me?" A little betrayal, maybe? Hurt?

Sheik stayed still – with his hands visible – as the man unfastened his cloak. The rain had come in overnight and pounded the city unrelentingly.

"You thought we were complicit in the queen's death?" Raphio demanded. He was a slight man, shorter than Sheik, but more limber, faster.

"I told you, I did not know. I had to be sure."

Disappointment, more than anything. "I thought we were brothers."

Raphio had a strong and sometimes misplaced sense of camaraderie with his fellow Sheik'ah. Sheik wished he could feel that way again.

"I'm sorry, Raphio. I am, truly," he added when the man grimaced. "I…it happened so quickly. I didn't know if she was alive or not."

"Is she?"

"I believe so."

For all his chivalry, Raphio was still shrewd. "I wonder who they had under the hood, then."

"A nobody, a criminal."

"Unexpectedly decent of them."

Sheik smiled and it was not pleasant. "Several of their number are more squeamish than others."

And for all the boyish handsomeness of his face, Raphio's grin could be just as dark as his elder's. "Tell me."

There was still a feeling of stiffness in Raphio's manner, a distance. But the man pledged support to his leader. "Shall I start a search for her?"

"No." Sheik had thought this through for many days. "She is either safe in Ordon or hidden somewhere and does not want to be found."

"Ordon?"

Sheik sighed. "It's a long story, but the Ordon Champion is the one who got her away from the palace. He'll look after her until we can formulate a plan."

Raphio was bemused. "So, he really was an Ordonian prince?"

"In name. Not blood. But our Magistrates wouldn't care; they'd hate him equally even if he could trace his line back to the dawn of Hyrule."

Raphio chuckled. "Not often a shepherd rises to such a station. Heard about that dinner. Was he as uncouth as they say?"

"Certainly made no efforts to hide his origins." Though he had kept quiet about the slavery thing. Why? If he was aiming to appall Zelda' nobility, that would have done it better than his blather about goats.

Sheik lost Raphio's conversation. Could the boy trace his lineage back? He had been taken from his home, but where had that been? He had the blond hair and blue eyes common over much of the country. Maybe a reddish tint, but that wasn't out of the ordinary. Could his trail be found, this many years after?

"Is Will still alive?"

Raphio frowned. "I'm not sure. I haven't heard word of him in some time. Why?"

Sheik turned over his idea. A fruitless search, but maybe if they could find his family…to what purpose, though? Nostalgia? Legitimacy of his claim for Zelda's hand? It would change nothing, but still…

"Sheik?"

He banished his musings. "It doesn't matter. What I want is to ready the city for her return."

"There has been no sign of her. We've been searching everywhere."

"The prison guards said something I didn't understand." He closed his eyes to remember. "That the Ordonians had done something, some weeks after she disappeared."

Raphio refilled his mug with hot tea. "Sent a declaration denouncing the coup and pledging support of the queen. Even after word she was executed spread. Talk is Ordon believes she is alive. Possibly knows where she is."

"Any rumors where she may be hiding?"

"Several, and each more unrealistic than the last."

Sheik knew well enough Link's audacity. He should have the castle searched. The dungeons as well. Maybe he had disguised her as a man and they were under the conspirators very noses.

"Sincail and Kyln are pushing for us to march on Ordon."

After all he had seen in his life, few things chilled Sheik's heart with fear. Facing Link on the battlefield was one of those things. He shuddered. "Hylia preserve us. Are they mad?"

Raphio lifted an eyebrow. "We could take them easily."

"In pitched battle, yes. But that is not how we would face them. The moment we enter those hills, we'd be massacred, picked off one by one. If Link let us get that far."

Raphio's gave him an odd look. "You know him? Personally?

Sheik nodded. "Zelda met with Ordon in the Spring."

His brother-in-arms sat back in his chair. "Peace talks, I take it?"

Sheik sighed. "Another long story. Yes, which is why Ordon declared support. We were uniting against the Shadow gathering in Druynia. Link is truly the Hero, Goddess touched, possibly by Hylia and Ordona."

Raphio also sighed. "This is more convoluted than the War of Teir'ma."

Sheik had to chuckle, but his mirth faded. "The Shadow is our main concern. We need Link or we have no chance."

Raphio rubbed his face. "And this Link has the queen. Will Ordon aid us even if she can't be found?"

Sheik thought of the grim purpose behind Ordon's smile, the battalions of strong, disciplined soldiers, trained to battle the darkness from the day they were born. The women who could ride and shoot as well as the men, who carried long knives even in the safety of their city. Defending a fortified castle was similar to holding a range of hills.

"Oh, they will aid us. But Hyrule would see it's end."

Raphio understood. "Then we must destroy this conspiracy and find the queen."

"And as soon as possible."

Raphio slapped his knees. "Well, then, let's get to work."