Chapter 7

Link, the note read. Congratulations on your joining the Hyrule Castle recruits. Please join Captain Salem upon your arrival in the East Castle Courtyard no later than noon. Present this note to the gatekeepers, and they will direct you. Welcome, and good luck.

Denne had gotten a similar note that morning as they ate breakfast. A messenger had delivered the notes, and now the men only had a couple hours to spare before their lives were signed away. "Captain Marcus for me. Southern courtyard," Denne said, shrugging. "Guess we're not going to be in the same company. Hope he's close to the king."

Link closed his eyes and relaxed for what he assumed would be his last time. He was ready. Ready to assume another life. Ready to physically work hard to impress his superiors. Ready to go into battle if needed. Ready to honor his parents, even if in a somewhat twisted way. Was he making a mockery of his father, who was likely a loyal soldier? Or was he denying his mother's heritage by allowing himself to be in the same space and assignment that brought about her demise? He hoped he could honor both of them; however, he was unsure which one mattered more, because at some point, he might have to decide. To choose the path of one over the other. But perhaps it wouldn't come to that; and, perhaps in the end, it wouldn't matter.

"Time to go," Denne sighed. "You coming?"

Link nodded, hiking up his small pack of clothes, weapons, rupees, and provisions onto his shoulders. He doubted he would need them once he got situated inside the castle, but they were the last bit of home. If anything, they would be reminders of who he was fighting for.

They made their way to the castle and showed the guards their notes, and they were waved through. One guard pointed in a direction for Denne, and the other pointed for Link. As they parted, they gave each other a knowing look.

"Remember the codes," Denne said as he started in one direction.

Link nodded. "I will." And when Denne was out of earshot and Link had turned to his designated direction, he whispered to himself, "I will remember the codes."

The courtyard was small, about the size of the indoor training arena at the hideout, and there were fewer people around than Link expected. As he walked in, he found statues of former dignitaries lining the brick walls. Colorful bushes and shrubs surrounded the statues, and the rest of the courtyard was filled with neatly trimmed grass. Most of the men already there had segregated into half a dozen smaller groups of three or four people each, with stragglers on the sides. They were wearing more common clothes like Link was. They must have been the rest of the new recruits for this company. A more decorated man was standing in the middle, chatting with a recruit, and as soon as he saw Link walk in, he politely stopped his conversation and approached.

He checked the paper in his hand and held out his arm. "You must be Link. Thanks for coming. We added you at the last second, so we're glad you could make it."

Link took his arm in greeting, and then quickly let go so that he could stand straighter. "Yes, Captain."

"Good," the captain said, almost impressed, and then moved to the center of the courtyard. All business. "Men! Line up. Faster!"

Link got into line with the rest of the company, some of which he could tell were already intimidated by the captain. Link wasn't—at least not yet. Too many bad memories of Captain Jero back in the desert made Link hope that this captain would be pale in comparison.

Captain Salem walked confidently back and forth in front of the line as he spoke, his shadow meandering across the courtyard. "You were all selected to be here so that I could train men that are likely already qualified, but are still of an age that can gain experience. Your age group is particularly moldable, and lucky me," he said this with some sarcasm, "gets to mold you. I understand you all have some combat experience, but don't let that get to your heads. To me, you are weak and unskilled until proven otherwise. And remember, men, that you are not soldiers yet. You are soldiers when I say you are. Impress me, and maybe I'll let you stay."

Some men in the line, luckily none near Link, sniggered. Link knew better than to play that game. Uh oh.

The captain was naturally unimpressed. "It looks like some people here think it's better to disrespect me. That sounded like five of you. I'm going to count to ten. When I'm done, I want all five of you out of my courtyard. It's obvious you don't belong here, and insolence will not be tolerated. One... two... three…"

A single look from the captain, and even the densest person could tell that he was absolutely serious. One by one, Link saw from the corner of his eye five men exit the courtyard, leaving spaces in the line. When the captain was done counting, the line was five people shorter.

"Good riddance," Captain Salem said. "Now then, I want you all to find a place to drop your things and get back in line with a weapon in hand. It doesn't matter which kind of weapon. If you don't have a weapon, go to the armory and borrow one." He pointed to an opening in the walls that differed from the one Link came through. "Armory is that way; turn left at the end. When everyone's back in line, we'll start. Now move it!"

Link went over to a stallion statue by the wall and dropped his pack, while some others scrambled out of the courtyard. He picked up his shortsword and hefted it in his hand, glad that he was familiar with the weight. It gave its satisfying whirring noise as he twirled it gently around his palm. Pleased, he sheathed it, attached it to his belt, and went back to his spot in line.

He wasn't the first back, but he was far from the last. He stood straight and kept his chin up, secretly observing all his surroundings. While some men went to the armory, others used that time to socialize with others. Some men, like Link, dutifully found their places in line and stayed quiet, ready for the next command. The captain looked nonchalant, but Link could tell he was absorbing every move. Link had to be sure to impress him at every turn, so he did what he was told, and even more if possible.

Up above them, the castle walls made way for bridges in between parapets and gatehouses, and there were fewer guards up there than Link thought there should be. Funnily enough, Link could imagine climbing those walls. Because of the staggered fashion the bricks were laid, it didn't look difficult to scale in any measure of the word. Link had climbed all over the hideout many times, and these castle walls were even shorter and easier. He wondered why the castle was built with what seemed like such climbable walls. On the tops of the walls were stone spikes, but those were easy to maneuver around. Link swallowed in every detail he could about the infrastructure of the castle that he could see. Soon enough, his superiors would allow him to explore other places of the castle, where he would get even more information. He would have the layout down pat. He would be the greatest asset and informant the Yiga clan had ever seen.

The men who went to the armory started trickling back into the courtyard. The men who were socializing noticed, and they all reclaimed their spots in the line.

"Good. Everyone's back. And if I miscounted and we have any latecomers, they will be shown the way out. Let's get started," Captain Salem said. He squared his shoulders and held up a hand with two fingers out. "Now, get into pairs and show me what you've got by sparring. Keep it in melee range. No tomfoolery, just basic combat."

Link and the man next to him turned to face each other. The other recruit had short brown hair crowning his small face. He had a scar that ran from chin to ear on his left side. It was faint, and most people probably didn't notice it, but Link wondered how that could have happened. Link had scars of his own, but none so prevalent on his face.

The man got into a fighting position with his own shortsword. "Garet," he said. "Pleasure to spar with you."

Link directly mirrored his stance, since he was left-handed. "Link."

They started swinging at each other, and Link instinctively reverted to all of his drills back in the clan. Swing here, thrust there, turn now, strafe this way. The metal against metal clanged satisfactorily, and Link seemed to go back in time. His sparring partner was equally adept in his movements, which Link was grateful for. He didn't want to practice with an unworthy opponent. Duck, —turn, —overhead sweep.

"You're very well practiced," Garet said while fighting for breath. "Who did you learn from?"

Link parried his blows and swung again. "Family," he said, equally out of breath. The answer wasn't totally correct, but it worked. The Yiga Clan was essentially his family, after all. He had his mother's knife and wielded it well, and his father was allegedly a soldier in the royal guard. So, according to his past and heritage, his skills were fed by a wide variety of places.

Garet grunted as he parried Link's jabs. They kept sparring in their patterned way, and Link's muscles started to ache. Their sweaty clothes were now fully stuck to their bodies, since the late afternoon sun was shining directly on them. Captain Salem walked by them and observed for a moment, and then walked away to observe some other group. Link's sword arm was getting tired, so he switched the sword to his right hand and practiced all the new angles and moves that came with matching the opponent's stance. It was almost a whole new fighting style, but Link did his best. He could feel his left arm thanking him, while Garet gave him an exasperated look.

After about an hour or so (it could have been more; Link lost track of time when he was fighting), the captain rallied them. "All right. Drop your weapons and get back into line!"

Link gave his sparring partner a small bow, which Garet reciprocated in kind, and went over to the statue to set down his sword. They dropped back into their places in the line, waiting for the captain to give them more commands.

"It's painfully obvious that some of you do not know yourselves as well as you think you do," the captain said. "The way that some of you were sparring, I would absolutely believe it if I were told you were actually ten-year-old girls." Ouch. "For your information, here's what I have planned for you, and you can take it or leave it. First, in one week, there will be an initiation ceremony in the Grand Hall. If you make it that far, you will be expected to be there. As for the schedule: One," he held up another finger for each point, "combat training takes place in the afternoons when the sun is the hottest. You must be ready to fight in every condition, so we will be out here rain or shine, hot or cold, snow, hail, or wind. There will be no exceptions and no excuses. Two, after training, you have your leave for dinner and preparation for the next day. That includes keeping your weapons sharp and armor polished. Bring me a blunt blade, and I will promptly show you the way out. Three, in the mornings, I expect you to be conditioning yourself for this company. Condition your mind, condition your body, I don't care. But if you are not ready to train, you are not ready to be here. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Captain," a few men, including Link, relayed back to him. This schedule sounded all too familiar.

"The guards' quarters are east of here. Find somewhere to stay, and I will see you at noon sharp tomorrow. Dismissed."

The guards' quarters were truly unexciting. Link had walked with Garet, and they had picked their beds. Garet was a quiet companion, which Link was extremely grateful for. But Link was also starving, so he quickly set his things down and left to find the mess hall. He wondered what kinds of meals the guards (or recruits like Link) got. Was it gruel? Was it a five-course dinner? If Link was honest with himself, any food would do. Except rushrooms, of course.

He let his stomach and his nose guide him, and soon enough, he found himself in the mess hall. The room was huge, with brick columns all around the room, and long wooden tables strewn out in the middle of the room. Each table had large flowery centerpieces, and there were two fireplaces on opposite sides of the room. The rugs on the ground and tapestries on the walls made the room seem that much more ornate. The giant windows along the walls gave the room plenty of natural light. The chandeliers on the ceiling were fully lit, and Link wondered what kind of personnel would have to light them and change them out. Hopefully not the recruits. He went over to the serving tables near the kitchens and looked over the seemingly endless choices of foods. He decided he probably shouldn't overindulge on his first day, so he simply put some poultry meat, a slice of toast, and an apple on his empty plate. The mess hall tables were at about a quarter of capacity, so it wasn't too hard to find a seat that wasn't near others. Not that he didn't like company, but silence held a certain beauty when it came to Link's relaxation rituals involving food.

As he ate, Link wondered how long his assignment would truly last. Master Gehrik had said "for the rest of the foreseeable future," but Link didn't think he would be given that much time. From the sound of it, the Divine Beasts were becoming operable again, and Link needed to get the castle ready for Calamity Ganon. Based on how many groups were going out at Master's command, it sure didn't sound as if Link could be leisurely in his assignment. They had to prepare, and they had to prepare now, which meant Link would have to impress his superiors so much that they promoted him on the spot. He shuddered at the thought of all the spotlight, but he would do it for the good of the Yiga. He couldn't let down Master Gehrik, and he especially couldn't let down his mother. His father, whoever he was, would just have to deal with Link's choices for now.

As he finished his meal and took giant gulps from his water skin, the sun was now leaving the windows, letting the night in. Link took it as a sign that he should probably leave and find some armor to bring to tomorrow's training. The captain had said that they needed a sharpened blade and polished armor, and he didn't dare show up without either. He got up, scooted in his chair, and took his plate to the dish drop-off area. Still thirsty, he then filled his water skin from the stream of water being pumped out of the wall into a basin. It was indeed a good meal, and he hoped he would have many like it in the future. He got a sinking feeling that mealtimes would be the best times of the day. Not that they weren't already before he came to the castle. But now he knew what was waiting for him after long days of training.

He wandered the halls looking for the armory. He remembered hearing lots of metal clinking sounds on his way over, so he backtracked the way he came. As much as he hated the thought, he consciously made extra noise as he walked. Sneaking around, trying to stay quiet was a thing of his past life; he needed to be known and noticed here. He had to assert some sort of presence if he was supposed to move up the ranks. Through the winding hallways, he came to spots that seemed slightly familiar, so he kept going. Eventually, the clinking sounds down the hall returned, along with more guards in uniform, and he knew he was heading in the right direction.

The armory was just as jaw-dropping as the mess hall. The whole room smelled heavily of polish and metal. The room wasn't as wide or as long, but it had multiple floors, with balconies lining the second floor, and a giant staircase and carved handrails in between. Racks of weapons lined the whole bottom floor, and full shelves dotted the middle. The upper floor had racks upon racks of chestpieces, pauldrons, boots, helmets, gauntlets, gloves, tassets, and greaves. A central balcony featured a fully armored mannequin, showing off a properly adorned knight. Link was amazed that anyone could move in all that armor. Down the hall, Link would likely find a smithy making thousands of rings for mail. He was good at fighting—but fighting while fully suited in armor? He would have to find out, and he sincerely dreaded the thought of all that weight pulling him down. But perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.

The armory wasn't empty. A guard in thin leather armor was posted at the door, and he sat up when he saw Link. He eyed him up and down. "New recruit, yeah? Looking for something in particular? No, wait, don't tell me," he said as he tapped his chin, as if playing a game. Link decided this guard's post must be boring. "You need some fresh armor for your first day."

Link nodded.

"You're a bit on the shorter side, but I think I've got just the thing for you. Follow me," the guard said. He led Link up the stairs. "I'm supposed to check for a summons," he said while glancing at Link behind him. "But since I'm so used to seeing all the fresh faces, I'm just going to trust you're one of them."

Before he could turn around again, Link pulled out the note he got that morning and held it out. When the guard did finally turn around, he seemed genuinely surprised. "Well, well. Seems you're a go-getter, and I'm a monkey's uncle."

They arrived at the top floor, and all the surrounding armor on display shined a dull orange glow from the lamplight in the corners. It was really quite a sight to behold. Even back home, the most armor Link ever saw in one place was, well, never and nowhere. The Yiga didn't use traditional metal armor, since it made so much noise and wasn't maneuverable enough for effective sneaking.

The guard laughed quietly in front of him. "I can tell you've never been in a place like this before. Well, let me tell you, you'll get used to it soon enough. You'll be in here so much, you'll wonder what it was like to even be outside. I'm not bitter at all. Promise."

They walked further down the side of the room and reached a large chest of drawers. The guard slid all of them open, and all were full of armor sets. "We're sure to find something here for you. Ah, how about this one?" Rifling through the bottom drawer, he pulled out a set attached by strings and held it up to Link. "You'll need to try it on. See if it fits."

Link agreed with a nod, and the guard started untying the strings that held the armor together. He gestured to a sheet of mail on the chest of drawers for Link to try on with the armor. Once the mail was on, the guard laid the chestplate and backplate over Link's shoulders, and strapped them around his waist. Then, he outfitted him with pauldrons and tied tassets around his waist. Lastly came the greaves, boots, and helmet. Link felt like he was in a costume, and he had to stop himself from feeling too silly. This was true royal battle armor, after all. He would need to get used to this.

"On first try, it actually looks pretty good," the guard said. "Try moving around. Oh, here," he grabbed a sword from a nearby drawer and handed it to Link. "Swing it around, do some lunges, whatever. Get a feel for how the set fits. If it's too loose or too tight, let me know."

Link did as he was told. The sword was a bit larger and heavier than his own shortsword, but it felt like a worthy blade nonetheless. He backed away from the guard to a more spacious area and twirled the sword. He strafed and lunged at an invisible enemy. He spun, having to right himself after the weight of the armor threw off the balance he was used to. He didn't like that the helmet blocked the corners of his vision, but he supposed he would have to get used to that as well. And the more limited movement. Now he knew what he would do during his morning conditionings. The suit would definitely take some acclimating on Link's part, but he couldn't help but agree with the guard. At the very least, it felt like the right size.

"Feels good," Link finally spoke. He swung the sword around some more and dodged his invisible opponent.

"Looks good," the guard agreed. "You want it? It's yours. Try it out for training, and if it ends up not being what you want, bring it back and I'll see what I can do."

Link handed the sword blade down back to the guard, then took off the helmet. The guard took the sword back and got out a large plain cloth bag to put Link's new armor in. He took the helmet from Link and put on the shelf until he could piece the rest of the armor together. He helped Link out of the rest of the armor, and one by one, tied the pieces together with the string. Link tied a few knots for him, both to be of use and to make it go faster. He wasn't necessarily in a hurry, but he couldn't stand waiting around. Once the suit was all tied together, Link held open the cloth sack, and the guard slipped it in and drew the bag shut. He handed it to Link. "Thanks for stopping by…?"

"Link."

"Link. Call me Teak. I'm here from noon to night all week. Try to polish and shine it at least once every couple of weeks. One of the strategies of using metal armor like this is blinding the opponent with the shine on a sunny day. The movement is limited, but it makes up for that in other ways." Teak then led Link back down the stairs and out of the armory. The bag of armor was awkward to carry, but Link managed.

I'd better get on a first name basis with these people if I'm going to incorporate. "Thanks, Teak," Link said as he exited the armory. Now, the hard part was finding his way back to the guards' chambers.

"Anytime. Don't be a stranger," Teak replied.

Yep, Link thought. Definitely a boring post.