I just want to point out that in the last chapter, a lot of words got smashed together after the upload, and I just want to let everyone know that I'm not that clumsy with the keyboard, lol, but I think I fixed it. And if anyone is wondering, this story is based somewhere around in the early 1500's. Anyway, continuing on now.

-O-

Link awoke groggily to a sharp pain in his back. He was still so tired, but he opened his eyes in refusal to fall asleep again, and discovered that he was lying on his stomach with his arms folded over one another in front of him and his head resting on them. His arm guards had been removed. He was confused; he didn't think he had ever slept in this position in his life. He moved slightly in an attempt to get up, but the pain that shot through his body quickly drove him back to stillness, and he let out a long breath but no vocal sound.

He was alarmed when he suddenly felt two hands on his shirtless back, and he would have rose up quickly and delivered a sharp punch if they hadn't felt feminine. He couldn't see around him, but he sensed more than one person in the room. Unwilling to accept anymore bodily harm, he rolled over hastily and held himself up with his hand, one leg tucked under him in a position to make a quick spring if he had to, but he froze still when he saw where he was and who was with him.

The room was dark, lit only by a single glass lantern, but it looked like a bedroom and Link was on the bed. The older woman with silver hair he had seen the day before was sitting on the bed beside him, her hands wet, and the beautiful young girl with the name of Jennan stood on the floor with a bowl of water in her hands, and she stepped back uncertainly when Link turned over to face them.

"You don't need to be alarmed," the old woman said gently. "You passed out from exhaustion after your whipping, and we are just here to help you."

They did not seem to know that Link would not harm a woman, for the two of them remained motionless and stiff, ready to move out of danger if they had to. After thinking on what to do next, Link relaxed to reassure them that he wasn't going to hurt either of them, and they let out their breath in relief.

"I see Dorobis and his men weren't exactly gentle with you," the woman said, looking over his bruises. "I salved the cuts across your shoulders; it will help in the healing process."

Little did she know, Link had always healed quickly and rarely ever scarred, so that worry didn't bother him any. But there were things he wanted to know- such as where Epona was, what had been done with his sword and shield, and where he could find his shirts. Jennan was looking him over from his leather boots to the blue earring in his left ear, and it made him uncomfortable, strangely enough. Girls looking at him was not anything new, but he had never noticed one looking at him with such intensity as this one was.

"My name is Ima," the woman said, "and this here is Dorobis' youngest daughter, Jennan."

So Jennan and the tyrant Dorobis were related. Something about that just seemed wrong to Link, but he just looked at the girl silently. Just because she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen did not mean she could be trusted.

"Have you a name?" Jennan asked gently. Even her voice was pretty.

Link had remained silent for most of the time he had been here, but he saw no reason to disrespect these ladies, so he took a moment to consider telling his name. He swallowed hard on his dry throat, and his voice came out raspy. "Link." He didn't think that she might tell her father, but he didn't care anyway. The man might as well find out some time.

Jennan repeated the name silently on her lips, and Ima poured a glass of water from a pitcher and held it out to him. "You need to drink," she said. So she noticed. Link took the glass and sucked down the water in a matter of seconds, and the coldness hit his dry throat with a stinging shock, but he wanted more. He would have drank from the pitcher if Ima had given it to him.

"You can't drink too much at one time," she said, and she set the empty glass on a wooden table beside the bed. When she leaned over, Link saw the brand mark on her upper arm, and then he knew that she was one of Dorobis' slaves.

After a moment of silence, Jennan put the bowl of water on the table along with the glass, and then she stood back with her wrists crossed and hands clasped in front of her. "Your horse is in my father's stable," she said quietly. As if she had read his thoughts from a few minutes before. "Artos, the stable hand, he will take good care of her."

Link dragged himself up from the bed, and Ima looked as if she wanted to protest, but she didn't. Link saw his clothes on the floor, and he retrieved them wordlessly. As he pulled on the white shirt he always wore under the tunic, Ima lifted a hand and said, "You may not want to... nevermind. " She had started to warn him of the wounds on his back, but figured that telling him wouldn't matter if he was as stubborn as she suspected he was. And she was right.

Link slipped his tunic over his head, which belted around the waist and extended to his thighs, and he was aware of Jennan's gaze taking in his every move. He would have enjoyed the attention if he wasn't so unrustworthy of them, so he pulled on his gloves and arm guards without looking at her. And he was slightly embarrassed because of his wounds and bruises, but he thought that she had probably seen it all before. Dorobis' slaves were probably continuously being tented to.

"If you're headed back out there, I should give you a word of widom," Ima said. She stood up and rose to her full height, which was five feet at the most, and touched his arm. "It's strongly advised not to spit in the master's face, I should have you know. But rest assured, worse things have happened to him from the hands of slaves."

"I won't be his slave," Link said, willing to speak openly for the first time in the presence of these people. "He can whip me blind if he wants, but I can just..." He looked over at Jennan, and out of respect for her did not finish the sentence about her father. He was relieved when the door of the dwelling opened suddenly, and a young man and woman paused in the doorway.

"My brother and sister," Jennan assured Link. She turned to the new arrivals. "It's all right to come in if you like."

They entered the room and let the door fall closed behind them, and the young woman was looking at Link with an obvious expression of distrust. She had brown hair that did not even reach the middle of her back, and light brown eyes that stared at him warily. The boy's features more resembled Jennan's, for he had thick black hair and dark eyes as well, though his face was not as fair colored and was more squarely shaped.

"Matayo and Memnet," Ima said, nodding at the boy first and then the girl. "Memnet, she is the eldest of Dorobis' children, followed by Matayo and then Jennan."

Memnet folded her arms and scoffed. "Why do you introduce us to a slave so formally, Ima?" she said.

Link bristled, and Ima frowned deeply at Memnet. "I advise you to keep your manners, girl. Show some respect."

Ima was their father's slave, but all three of the siblings seemed to look up to her; after all, she was their elder.

"I've never known my father to have a Hylian slave," Matayo said, his deep voice echoing off the dwelling walls as he leaned forward to get a better look at Link.

"Where are you manners!" Ima exclaimed, and she slapped Matayo in the back of the head.

"Sorry," he said quickly. Link had never seen a relationship between a slave and the master's children like this before. He was starting to wonder if Ima even was a slave here.

"Forgive them," Ima said to Link. He nodded once at her and grabbed his sword and shield, with no protest from any of them, and made for the door of the dwelling. He was surprised to find that the door led right to the outside, and when he closed it and looked backwards, discovered that the dwelling had been built onto the side of the house. He figured it was Ima's room, and saw that she would have had to go outside if she had been in the house just to get there.

Link stood on the dusty, grassless space in front of the door, strapping his sword and shield to his back, and looked around the woods. He was unsure at what to do now. It was the first time that he had been physically free since he had arrived at this place, and escape was the first thing that was on his mind. There was no one out here to stop him, but he didn't want to go without Epona. He went right, into the woods, and kept walking until he found the stable he had seen awhile ago before. He wasn't sure what day that had been, but now he just wanted to get out of here and go home. It seemed forever ago that he had been there, and there were things there that he had to tend to. So the quicker he got there the better.

He came upon the stable as he rounded a corner, and he quietly made his way around to the double doors that were open wide in front. He leaned around the corner and looked in slowly, seeing rows of stalls and many horses he didn't recognize, then was relieved to see Epona in a stall near the left end of the stable, her back to him. The structure was wide a roomy, housing many horses and even a loft up above the stalls. A few horses looked at him curiously, and he shrank low to the ground in an effort to keep completely silent. A few moments of quiet passed, and then Link clicked his tongue in a quick rhythm, the signal for Epona he had used for years. Epona turned in her stall to face him, her head hanging over the door, and whuffled in reply.

Link rose to enter the stable, then quickly fell back in position when he heard human footsteps from inside. The sound of the obvious stride gave away that the peron was male, and then a quiet voice emerged from inside. It sounded as if the man was talking to the horses gently. Link was not sure what to do now, but he was determined to get away from this place if he had to fight tooth and nail to get out.

The talking and the shuffling walk suddenly stopped, as if the man was listening intently. Link held his breath and remained motionless, poised to run, but he was too late to move when a young man with dark, close-cut hair came to the doorway and looked directly at him. Link stood quickly and considered knocking the other man out in the dirt, but the latter quickly held up his hands in a sign of peace, and Link stopped.

"Don't worry, there's no reason to fight me," he said quickly, taking a step backwards. "I know what you're here for; you want your horse and you want to get out of here, am I right?" Answered by silence, he continued on hastily. "I'm not going to try to stop you. By the way, my name is Artos-"

"I don't need to know your name," Link said bluntly. "And it'll be best for you if you just get out of my way and let me take my horse."

"I already said I am not going to stop you; I am not that foolish. Besides, I know how it is to want to escape." Artos followed Link into the stable as the former located Epona's saddle and bridle and began to tack her up inside the stall. "I tried it once, but Master Dorobis and his men ran me down quickly... I have the scars to prove that."

"Maybe I know the woods better than you do," Link said. He wasn't bragging, just pointing out a probable fact. "Anyway, I'm going home."

"I strongly advise against trying. Master Dorobis will hunt you down fast, he has dogs. You're not really going to..."

Link tightened the cinch on Epona's saddle. "Watch me."

Artos lowered his head and sighed. "Well then, I suppose I wish you luck."

"Gensae," Link mumbled. He mounted Epona in a swift motion and looked down at Artos wordlessly. They shared a look for a moment, and then Link nudged Epona into a canter, and they were out the stable doors.

Artos leaned on the doorframe and watched them go. "Master Dorobis is not going to be pleased," he mumbled to himself.

-O-

Epona moved at a steady gallop along the trail, and Link rose slightly in the stirrups and leaned forward to give her more free room to move. He had almost taken to the woods at first, but the going there would have been too slow, and escaping from this place would take speed instead of stealth. If they could just get off this plantation, past the woods and into the wide space of clearing a few miles ahead, Link was home free.

The whip cuts on his back stung violently, and his whole body ached from the abuse he had suffered at the hands of Dorobis' men, but he would have had to have been knocked out or dead for his escape attempt to be stopped. Dorobis could just let his dogs out after him if he wanted. Link and Epona could ride and move in one motion as if they were a whole being together, and it was one thing in Link's favor. He and his horse could communicate with each other through body language, and Epona probably knew now that Link was desperate and needed her speed and endurance.

Link did not bend his concentration by looking back; it would do nothing but break Epona of the steady rhythm she was holding in her gait. And even if someone was pursuing him, he believed Epona was fast enough to elude them.

After awhile of steady riding, Link started to relax and let himself start thinking of something besides the matter at hand. He would be glad to get back home to his village. He had things to do and people to take care of, and he was unsure of how things were going without him. It was bad for a village to lose the stable hand, and he would be content to get back.

Everything that happened next seemed to happen in the space of time it takes to blink an eye. Epona surprised Link by suddenly slowing down without warning, and now he did look back. There was nothing there to see, save for trees, and just as Link turned back around to face forward, someone stepped out onto the trail and grabbed Epona by the bridle. The horse stopped so suddenly that Link nearly flipped out of the saddle, but he dug in his knees and held on stubbornly.

Henry stood at Epona's head, his hand clasped around a strap of her bridle, and looked up at Link. "Come down," he commanded, and Link glared at him defiantly. He'd come down all right, and kill Henry where he stood. He swung out of the saddle and dropped to the ground, facing Henry head on with a threatening glare. The two of them were nearly the same height, just an inch or two shy of six feet, and they met each other's eyes and bristled, the preliminaries of a hand-to-hand fight. Henry let go of Epona's bridle and threw a quick and unexpected punch, and Link took it to the cheekbone, and he took a stunned step backwards. But he had been smacked and punched contiuously for the past few days, and this was nothing new. He regained his bearings and swung his fist in a tight circle and landed the hook-punch in Henry's bearded jaw, sending the young man hard down to the ground.

Henry got up as quickly as he could, which was not quite fast enough, for Link was upon him in a flurry of the punches of righteous wrath. After a few moments of the one-sided beat down, it was becoming obvious that Henry was in trouble. He was receiving back once again what he had delivered to his Hylian captive; Link was returning the blows he had received while bound and tied for the past couple of days, and Henry knew it would not go well with him if this went on for much longer. He attempted to fight back, but he barely had space to breath, no less throw a punch. The only thing he could do was cover his face with his arms, and even that was not enough to help him.

Link had been bullied around most of his childhood, and that way was one how he learned to fight with his hands. He was now straddling Henry, throwing punch after punch mercilessly. Link did not feel guilt or remorse; he was going to do what he had to to get home. And not only that. These people were trying to make a slave out of him, and he would have none of it.

It would have gone even worse with Henry had not hoofbeats sounded in the ground, and Dorobis and Minhan quickly reined in their horses and dismounted quickly to assist Henry. Link did not even know they were there, so intent was he on beating Henry into the dirt, until Minhan grabbed him by both arms and hauled him a few feet away. Blind by his anger, Link turned his rage onto Minhan, who nearly screamed and quickly let go. Dorobis came to his rescue and dropped a knee down onto Link's back and, rolling him over, somehow managed to tie the boy's hands together in front of him.

"Hold him," he commanded Minhan, who regained his nerve and seized Link by the arms and held tight. Dorobis stood and helped Henry to his feet, who was bruised and bleeding heavily from his face. Dorobis laughed. "You look you've been trampled by a horse." Henry moaned in reply.

Link thought that Dorobis was just laughing at Henry for the sake of laughing at someone, for Link truly believed that he was hated by Dorobis to the very core of his being.

"You might want to be careful the next time you try to take a Hylian on by yourself," Dorobis teased.

Link wondered what his race had anything to do with it as Dorobis hauled him up from the ground. But he was not too upset about being caught in his escape. There would be other times to try. He would have felt worse if he had not had the privilege of beating Henry bloody.

Epona had shied away in all the violent confusion, and she stood at the other side of the trail in a patch of weeds uncertainly. Dorobis caught her bridle and said over his shoulder to Link, "I will give you credit for making a good attempt at escaping, but must I remind you that no one leaves here unless I give the word?" He led the horse back onto the trail and ran a hand along her flank. "You have a fast horse as well." He grinned to himself. "Or should I say I have a fast horse. Whatever that's yours is mine, boy."

"No," Link said defiantly as Minhan yanked him up off of the ground. "Do you really think she's going to respond to you the way she does me?"

"So he speaks," Dorobis said. He patted Epona's neck. "I know how to handle horses."

Link raised an eyebrow. "And you think I don't?"

"It's actually ture, sir," Minhan spoke up. "I believe the boy's a wrangler."

Link wondered how he had figured that out, but he was not surprised at most of the things they did around here. They seemed to find out things in ways that Link was unaware of.

"Is he..." Dorobis stroked the dark beard on his chin. "Bring him back, and let him ride his horse. He might as well get that much, I suppose."

-O-

And he had ridden Epona back towards the house, with Minhan leading her along the trail from the back of his own horse, and Dorobis followed along behind. To Link's regret, they came to a halt at the two shackle trees, and the two men pulled him off his horse and threw his sword and shield to the ground. They somehow managed to muscle him between the trees and into the shackles, after receiving a few bruises of their own. Link had not eaten in days, so he was weakened by hunger and therefore could not fight back as hard as he wanted, and that seemed to be the only reason the men overcame him.

Dorobis pulled his horse whip from his belt, and after tethering the horses, Minhan overlooked Link with an expression of confusion. "How are you going to remove his shirts now, sir?"

Dorobis jerked the whip together in his hands, and it made a sharp snapping noise. "The whip will remove them."

At this, Link stiffened and once again tried in vain to break the shackles, but he could not have done it even if he was at full strength. He suddenly realized how thirsty he was, and he dreaded feeling the cut of the whip over the painful marks he already had. He heard Dorobis snap the whip again, and he braced himself for the stinging impact. It wouldn't be so bad at first, for his thick tunic and then the shirt under that would protect him for a moment, but after a few strikes, they would be ripped and meaningless. And then later, because of the tears and the blood in his clothes, he'd have to get rid of them and find something else to wear. And these were not pleasant thoughts.

Dorobis made a move for the first swing, and then suddenly stopped. Quick, running footsteps sounded over the ground, and they seemed to be getting closer. If Link was not mistaken, he thought they sounded feminine. And sure enough, Jennan came around the curve of the trail, holding up her long skirts, and practically sprang on her father. Her thin hands gripped the whip and her father's wrist, and she was hanging on so tightly that she was nearly suspended over the ground.

"Father, don't!" she cried out, and Dorobis stared at her in bewilderment.

"What's wrong with you, girl?" he exclaimed. He tried to shake her off, but she planted her feet to the ground and held tight.

"Why do you whip him, Father? He only did what anyone would do, and you know it! You would have done the same thing if you were in his position, wouldn't you? It's only natural to try to escape, isn't it? Isn't it?"

Dorobis looked at his daughter's hands, her knuckles turning white with the effort of her grasp, and he tried to shake her off again. "What is it any concern of yours over the slave, Jennan? Now let go of me and go about your business."

"Can't you hold the whipping just this once? If someone tried to force something on me against my will, I would try to escape as well."

Dorobis pried his daughter's hands off and pushed her back gently. She planted herself between him and Link stubbornly. She was very petite; lucky to weigh a hundred pounds and barely reach five feet and three inches, yet she was staring up at her father as if daring him to harm her for the sake of whipping Link. She always kept her black hair tide up tight on the back of her head, and it was trying to escape now after the effort she had put up to stop her father.

"Jennan," Dorobis began, but Minhan touched his arm with the back of his knuckles and shrugged slightly.

"Please, Father," Jennan said.

Frozen between the two trees, Link was very surprised and confused at this entire situation. What had he ever done for Jennan to make her do this for him? Nothing, and it made him suspicious of some sort of hurt she had in mind for him herself. But the way she was standing up to her father contradicted that feeling, and he was very unsure what to think.

Dorobis sighed heavily and lowered his arm, the whip falling limp in his hand. "All right, Jennan. I don't see why you care for what happens with a slave, but I'll give into you this time." He motioned to Minhan. "Let him loose and get him something to eat. After that, put him to work. I'll have Artos take the horses." He turned on his heel and started up the trail without another word.

After he was gone, Minhan looked at Jennan. "Sometimes I just do not understand you, Miss Jennan." He walked around her and opened one shackle at a time, keeping a sharp eye on Link, but he did not have to. Link saw no reason to make another attack, and he did not want to anyway, not with a lady standing here. He tried to look at her directly, but she purposefully would not meet his eyes, and it frustrated him. He wanted to find out if he could see in her eyes the reason she stood up for him, but she would not even look in his direction as Minhan pulled him away from the two trees.

"You are very lucky that Miss Jennan was on your side of the situation this time," Minhan whispered hoarsely to Link as he led him towards the stable. And Link knew it was true.

-O-

Later on that night, Jennan sat in front of the large mirror on the wall in the dwelling she shared with her older sister. She let her hair down from the knot on the back of her head, and it spiraled down over her shoulders. She shook her head quickly to loosen the rest of the kinks in her hair, and she picked up her brush and began stroking slowly. The rickety door to the small dwelling opened behind her, and Memnet stepped into the room with a ceramic bowl full of water in her hands.

"Ima told me what she heard you did earlier," she said. She set the bowl down on a wooden nighttable. "No one else could stand up to Father like that. That slave... Link's his name?"

"Yes," Jennan replied absentmindedly. She continued to brush her hair.

"You know," Memnet said, smiling and now standing behind her sister's chair, "I'm beginning to think you like him."

Jennan's eyes snapped up to meet her sister's in the mirror, and she scoffed. "Oh hush, Memnet, I do not."

"Don't you?" Memnet said, a teasing hint in her voice.

"I just thought it was an unjust whipping, that's all. What slave wouldn't try to escape?"

"Artos tried to escape once, and Father whipped him. You didn't protest to that, did you?"

Jennan set her hairbrush down on the dresser. "I was young and didn't know anything about justice."

After a few moments of silence, Memnet said, "That Link of yours-"

"Of mine?" Jennan whirled in her chair to face Memnet.

"All right, calm down. Link and Henry had a scrap earlier today."

Jennan turned back to the mirror. "I know, I saw Henry." There were not many people in the house who had a favor for Henry, and Jennan in particular, after one time having to suffer through being pursued by him, thought it humerous when he got hurt.

"Link has a shiner," Memnet continued. "I think Ima gave him some ice."

Jennan laughed. "And, do you wonder what Henry looks like? Bruised and bleeding, he was. I'm glad someone finally got the best of him."

And they both laughed for each of their own reasons.