Chapter 34: Remnant
For out of Jerusalem shall go a remnant,
and out of Mount Zion a band of survivors.
~Isaiah 37:32, ESV
Link walked at Epona's side, holding the reins but not quite ready to jump into the saddle. He took in the air of the ranch with a deep breath, finding comfort in the smell of soil and manure and wood smoke.
He felt her touch on his left shoulder. "You were almost killed back there. You don't have to keep doing this."
"I do," he whispered. "They say a Hero will come when Hyrule is at its weakest." He slid his hand down the sheath of the Master Sword. "The man who controls Hyrule, Ganondorf Dragmire, can only be defeated by one weapon: the weapon carried by the Hero of Time."
"Sounds like a fairy tale," she muttered.
"It is a fairy tale," he said, "but everything about it has come true…so far. At first, I did it because I thought it was the only way to save my friends in the forest. Now, I have friends all over Hyrule whose fate depends on my battle with Ganon. I never knew my own parents, but my mother died bringing me to the forest. She was a Hylian…and the only way to honor her is to make sure the city she lived in is free."
"I guess," Malon said, her voice choked up with unshed tears, "I guess there's not much I can say to that."
Link paused, turning around to face her. "Thank you for your help, Malon."
"I…" Turning red, she folded her arms and looked downward, refusing to meet his gaze.
He held out his hand. "I'll be fine. Tell your father not to worry. By now, Ganon probably knows he lost the ranch, but I don't think he'll attack yet."
She nodded mutely without acknowledging his hand.
With a sigh, Link climbed into the saddle and turned to face the mouth of the ranch. "Goodbye…and thank you for the provisions."
"Don't mention it." She kicked the side of the barn with a huff.
"Bye, Malon," Navi said.
Link turned around in the saddle long enough to wave, then he took the reins in both hands and trotted Epona westward, away from the ranch. Impa had said he would find what he needed in Ganondorf's birthplace, Gerudo Desert, so that was where he had decided to turn.
Her ponytail bobbed in the hot winds blowing from the wastes. A sandstorm had risen and would soon engulf all the outlying villages that surrounded Gerudo Fortress, but she needed time to think before taking shelter, so she wandered the lonely alleys between the primitive stone dwellings of Parapa, her birthplace, turning her eyes inward.
"You are the new leader of the Gerudos in place of your mother."
The young woman shivered, her memory a place of cold but necessary reflection.
"Today, you must prove your ability to lead us into a new era of conquest."
"What must I do?" she said out loud, as if the event were happening all over again. She fingered the scimitar at her hip and swallowed.
"This man is accused of seducing one of our number. You know the penalty."
"I…can't."
"Obey or suffer his fate."
The line of her jaw hardened as she recalled the silence of her companions, the flash of her own sword, and the screams of the victim. She had trained in the arts of the sword all her life, so she knew where to strike and how to make it appear to the others as if the man had died. Later, she had recovered his body and nourished him back to health in secret. She had paid for that, and the man was later killed in his sleep—but to her, it was worth it, because it set her apart from the Gerudos. From those who called themselves Gerudos.
"Ah, there she is, Koume." Someone cackled at the mouth of the alley, behind her.
"You're right, Kotake. Strange for one of our leaders to be keeping to herself at such a time, isn't it?"
The young woman turned to face the two old hags that had crept up behind her, their long noses protruding from robes sewn with ominous runes. "I have no desire to avoid my duties."
"Oh ho." One turned to the other with that same obnoxious cackle. "Is that why we were looking for her, Kotake?"
"Don't you remember, Koume? We were going to tell her about the storehouse."
"Yes, that was it, wasn't it? The storehouse."
Kotake, her skin alive with a subtle blue radiance, shuffled forward. "We know you counted the stores of grain and oil and water only last week, dear, but we wanted to help you by checking them again."
Koume, her body illumined by a soft orange glow, grinned, showing her large white teeth. "She hasn't been counting very well, has she?"
"Someone's been sneaking into the storehouse and taking extra food and water for themselves. Isn't that odd? Someone must have found out when your inspections are."
Nabooru folded her arms and glared back at them, refusing to buckle under their veiled accusations. "The offender will be found out and punished."
"Oh yes." The twins cackled in unison. "We know she will, don't we?"
"Is there anything further?" Nabooru raised an eyebrow.
"She wants to know," Kotake said. "Was that all we wanted to say to her, Koume?"
"I think that was it, Kotake." Koume waved and turned to face the street. "We'll be seeing you, dear."
Kotake raised her voice so that it echoed. "Don't get caught out in the storm."
Nabooru waited until they were out of sight, then she shuddered. She was running out of time. Somehow, she had kept up her ruse, hiding the truth even from Ganondorf himself—but if the witches acted on their suspicions, it would be the end of her and those under her protection.
Another noise drew her attention to the street. At first, she thought the witches had stayed around to spy on her, but the sound was too heavy to be one of their moccasins. She heard two voices, one deep but youthful, the other high-pitched like a baby's giggle.
They were outsiders, she thought. The men and women of the valley would have found shelter by now.
She drew her scimitar and hugged the wall of the alley to await their passing.
Link had dismounted when they reached the desert to give Epona a chance to recover. He fed her a carrot from the saddlebags Malon had packed and took a cold chicken breast for himself. Soon after, the wind had picked up, and particles of sand were finding their way into everything, including the saddlebags. Even a vague idea of what they were looking for would have helped, but so far, nothing had stuck out, and the weather wasn't making it any easier.
"Why don't we ask the sand for directions?" Navi said.
Link snorted, clutching the scarf Malon had loaned him more tightly around his face as he led Epona through the streets of a village they had stumbled on just before the storm hit.
"Maybe some of the people here are friendly."
He shook his head. "Everyone here is probably a Gerudo or friendly to the Gerudos."
They passed several rough-hewn buildings, all with walls marked by hundreds of tiny chinks made by previous sandstorms. Not a soul in sight.
Link paused at what appeared to be a crossroad, though it was hard to tell with the sand in his eyes. Aside from the way forward, there was a path veering off to his left through another row of buildings, and on his right he saw an alley that came to a dead end.
As soon as he turned away from the alley to try the other street, he sensed there was someone behind him.
"Watch out, Link!"
With Navi's warning ringing in his ear, he rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the amputation of his left arm by scimitar. Following through with a somersault, he came to his feet and swung at his attacker with the Master Sword. The blade failed to find a target.
He tried to take in a deep breath, but the wind blasted him full in the face, filling his teeth and nostrils with sand. He staggered back and would have fallen, but someone held him up, pinning his left arm behind his back and pressing the sharp edge of a blade against his neck.
"Identify yourself."
Link swallowed, but his demeanor remained calm. "I'm Link. This is Navi." A lie would have done more harm than good, he thought.
"I am Nabooru."
He smiled to himself. "If you had wanted my name, you could have asked for it with a handshake instead of a sword."
"Such introductions are customary among my people," the voice said, clearly female.
"So I've learned."
"Your business here?"
"Sightseeing."
The woman laughed. "A better liar would have chosen a better lie…or better weather for sightseeing."
"Hey," Navi said. "Let him go!"
Nabooru struggled to contain her apprehension. "Stay back, fairy." As soon as she had seen the young man's clothing and the fairy that accompanied him, she knew that this was the boy they all whispered about in secret. The boy that had dared to challenge Ganondorf's scheme for Hyrule.
The boy's voice startled her. "Are we going to stand like this until we're drowned by the sand?"
"Silence!" She tried to maintain an air of superiority, but his presence had thrown her into a fever of anxiety.
"I know it's unlikely, but I don't suppose you could offer us shelter?" His tone betrayed sarcasm, but it also suggested a way out.
"Yes," she said quickly. "There is shelter nearby." Removing her sword from his neck, she released him with a shove.
"Thank you." He turned to face her.
"I am sorry," she said. "This is the only way."
The hilt of the scimitar came down with a thud.
Link groaned and came to with a raw bruise on the back of his head that spread a throbbing through his skull like thunder every few seconds. When he tried to remember where he was, all he could summon were a few indistinct images of the sandstorm, the village, and the Gerudo woman who had confronted him. What had happened after that was shrouded in the fog of unconsciousness.
"Navi?" He blinked and tried to adjust to the dark. A harsh jangling, like metal scraping stone, startled him. Even more surprising was a man's voice from somewhere on his left.
"You're awake? Good."
Link sat up only to find that his hands were bound to the wall with chains. "Who?"
The man's voice was gentle, confident. "Easy, son."
There was a light seeping through the cracks of a closed wooden shutter across from him, near the ceiling. It was just enough to help Link make out the outlines of the man's face.
It was hard to tell his age. He might have been young, not much older than Link himself, but for the lines of experience in his forehead. His voice was deep and his bearing firm, even in manacles.
"Who are you?" Link swallowed the bile rising in his throat. The heat in the cell made his skin sticky with sweat.
"My name is Arswaine." His gaze was steady but unobtrusive, as if he were subtly appraising Link. "Consider yourself among friends."
More chains rattled in the silence around them. Link squinted until he saw the shapes of other prisoners, all of them sitting or lying against the wall. "You're all from the villages?"
"A few of us are here out of our own foolishness," said Arswaine. "Most of us are here for defending our homes, our families…and our true King."
King? Link wanted to ask what that meant, but he had other concerns. "There was a fairy with me…"
"Outside," someone else said. "She's guarding the door."
Doesn't make any sense, Link thought. "How long have I been here?"
"A few hours." Arswaine turned away as if satisfied with his observations of the newcomer. "That man over there, Sabooro? He and three of his friends—all carpenter's apprentices—were thrown in here for trying to join the Gerudos."
The other man that had spoken spoke again. "We thought we were going to be the only men among all those women. First one we wink at clobbers us half to death and throws us in separate dungeons."
Link smiled. "How long have the rest of you been here?"
Arswaine kept his eyes fixed on the opposite wall. "Seven years."
"Seven…" Link would have clutched his forehead if the chains had allowed him. "Then you're…"
"We are the remnant of the force that defended Hyrule Castle Town from Ganondorf." Arswaine spoke quietly, but his voice carried dignity. "We are the last of the Knights of Hyrule."