Chapter 54: The Battle for Orthon
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Link
In the morning the Generals called him to them once more and shared their plans.
"In order t'mount an attack on th'force around Orthon, we'll need to push north," one explained, tapping the map. "Th'bridge across the Dracozu River, directly south f'th'city, is a key location. Our first task will be taking th'bridge."
"As we've learned," another General said bitterly, "th'corrupted shamans are devastating in a battle. But th'Boars will try t'keep them away from combat – they'll need t'be near enough t'cast their spells, but far enough t'stay out f'th'fighting. We'll send two teams f'wolves t'wait in th'river on either side f'th'bridge. You'll go with one f'these. Sneak past th'enemy encampment and then come at them from behind with th'other team. Your job will be t'eliminate th'shamans and distract their force from th'bridge."
"There will be scouts," the third General warned. "You'll have t'kill them before they can give word."
Link set out with his team of forty wolves that evening; they would use darkness to conceal their approach. Experimenting with spirit magic, Link managed to hone his sense of smell to the same level as his wolf form without actually transforming. He pointed out the Blood Wolf scouts hiding in the trees to his archers, who downed them with scarcely a sound except the sickening thud of the bodies when they hit the ground.
They proceeded to the river. Before emerging onto the ice, Link detected two more scouts on the other side of the river. His men killed them just as quickly, just as silently. They crossed the river and hid themselves in the reeds protruding above the ice all along the shoreline and waited. It made for a cold, miserable night, one where every man was grateful for the wolf pelts across their shoulders. But they were in position, and undetected, when dawn came at last.
In the half-light before the sun had fully risen, Link led his team further north past the river, taking them in a wide loop around the Boar Tribe force. He discovered a few more scouts; his men took care of them, and they continued around to the back. The shadows beneath the trees clung to the night's darkness long after dawn settled in; Link and the wolves behind him began their advance on the Boars from behind now, arrows and muskets ready to open fire.
"Remember," Link murmured. "Musketeers, your priority is th'Blood Wolves. Archers, you'll take th'shamans. Don't prioritize ordinary soldiers with this initial attack."
They crept closer. There were more scouts in the trees, right on the edge of the camp now. They were easy enough to spot that Link didn't need to point them out to his archers. The sound of the impact of their bodies crashing to the ground drew surprised voices from the camp itself; Link signaled for his men to halt and prepare to fire. He crouched down and slid his musket to his shoulder, the men behind him remaining on their feet.
"On my order," Link said quietly.
A group of Boars was coming out to investigate. They found the bodies – they found the arrows. Cries of alarm went up, along with orders for the Boars to form a line of defense. Blood Wolves were sent forward to investigate. Link spotted at least two shamans beyond them, ready to call up their dead. "Fire!" he commanded, and at once the air was shattered by the thunder of gunfire. Clouds of smoke billowed forth from the Zonai wolves. Link didn't hesitate this time. "Spearmen, forward! Into th'smoke! Remember – get t'th'shamans!"
He rushed forward alongside his men, slipping his musket back over his shoulder and drawing the Master Sword, which gleamed brightly as the smoke dissipated into the black fog conjured by the Boars. Gritting his teeth, Link switched his blade to his left hand and raised his right skyward, glowing a fierce green. He dispelled the mist with a wave of his hand – after a couple of days of minimal magic use, he could feel the power swelling within him. Just as his skills in combat outmatched those of any other Zonai wolf, so too he realized now did his magical power exceed the power of other shamans – even those endowed with Khanot's wicked power. Shafts of morning sunlight pierced through the fading mist as his blade, gripped in his left hand, stabbed through a startled Blood Wolf's heart.
The battle commenced. Link's team was reinforced by the other team of wolves, and they had the element of surprise on their side in their initial attack. Even the Blood Wolves' heightened strength was no match for musket balls.
But it was still undeniably true that they were, combined, a mere hundred wolf warriors against a much larger force of the Boar Tribe. They were badly outnumbered, dependent on the main Zonai army successfully crossing the river and the bridge. The Boars were too quickly engaged to get off a musket volley of their own, but the difficulty of fighting Blood Wolves all but made up the difference. Link could tell exactly when the rest of the army reached the bridge – a majority of the Blood Wolves were called back from the line and replaced by ordinary Boars. Blood Wolves attacking the main force would have an easier time of killing lower-ranking Zonai soldiers – easy targets for the shamans' necromancy.
But so, too, was it easier for Link's wolves to get through the ordinary Boar Warriors tasked with fending them off when the Blood Wolves were recalled. Link easily carved his way through the lesser soldiers to reach one of the shamans, and cleaved his head from his shoulders. The magenta glow of another shaman casting a spell gave him a new target and he fought his way nearer, his body splattered in blood that wasn't his own.
His heart surged when the cry for retreat was finally given, and the encircled Boars struggled to flee. Zonai arrows found many of the Blood Wolves in the back as they tried to escape. Link killed a shaman in the midst of raising the corpses surrounding him and at that point couldn't see any other shaman in the area. The bridge and the land surrounding it belonged once more to the Zonai.
Though not a long battle, it had been a bloody one. The power of the Blood Wolves was devastating when matched up against Zonai soldiers that weren't wolf warriors. Although the Blood Wolves repositioning to fight the main Zonai army had given Link and his team the opportunity to reach most of the shamans and kill or incapacitate many of the ordinary Boar soldiers, it had still resulted in devastating losses for the Zonai army.
The Generals were grim and solemn when Link saw them next, as he worked with the other survivors to bury their fallen. He saw in their eyes the same conclusion he had arrived at.
We have th'men t'take Orthon, but it may take every last one f'them. It's more than likely that, on both sides, only th'wolves among us will be left in th'end. No one else can stand against th'Blood Wolves.
It was a deeply chilling thought. His people had sacrificed much already – now they would in all likelihood give everything they had to throw out Khanot's power from among them.
"There's no other choice, f'course," he said to Zelda when he spoke with her that night. "Either we will be slain in battle, fighting for our people, or we succumb t'Khanot's evil. I… guess I don't know whether t'be relieved that they see just how much bigger a threat Khanot is than th'Sheikah."
She reached out to place a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, a touch he could almost feel. "I pray for your success every hour," she murmured. "Khanot is growing bolder by the minute, it seems. And people are beginning to see his evil, just as the Zonai do now. But it's too late to avoid casualties. With Maz Koshia's towers set up, we learned that Khanot has conjured monsters and sent them, and Akkalus' soldiers, to put down rebellions across the kingdom." She smiled grimly. "It shows how much of a threat Khanot percieves you to be, that he sends not mere men or monsters to hedge up your path, but demons endowed with his own powers."
Link chuckled drily. "I wouldn't mind f'he underestimated us," he sighed.
"He certainly underestimates you," Zelda said. "From your wolf form to your healing powers, and even the favor of the Dragons…" She gave a slight start. "Which… reminds me… the scale of Naydra that you asked Danuk to work with…"
Link's heart leapt. "Is he… is he finished?"
Zelda nodded. "Skasha will be flying it out to you soon," she said. "Do you know where you are?"
"Just south of Orthon, beyond the bridge," Link grinned. "That will be most welcome."
The Zonai armies pushed steadily northward past the bridge, leaving behind a substantial force to discourage the Boar Tribe from mounting a counterattack by slipping past Zonai scouts. There was some skirmishing as they progressed northwards, but no major confrontations. Link's heart leapt as he spotted Skasha halfway through the day, circling high above them. Zonai scouts pointed her out in alarm, and Link hurried to tell them all that she wasn't a threat. "She's a friend," he told them. "She's not a spy!"
And, miraculously, at his mere words, they believed him. They cleared a spot for her to land, and she looked at him gratefully before glancing around at the soldiers around her. "Sorry about all that," she said kindly. "I won't take long; I promise." She slipped from her back a great shield the same size and shape as Naydra's scale and held it out for Link. "Danuk sends his warmest regards, and asks when you'll be able to train him again."
Link took the shield, smiling broadly. It had been reinforced around the edges with lightweight Zora steel, with both the image of the Triforce and the Hyrulean crest on the outside. The deep blue surface of the dragon scale seemed almost to fog with cold even in the winter air, although on the back the grip had been padded sufficiently enough that he wouldn't freeze his own arm while using it. "This is perfect," he said, holding it in his left hand. "Tell Danuk he did a fine job."
Skasha nodded, a smile twinkling in her dark eyes, and with a few beats of her wings returned to the sky and vanished from view. The Zonai gathered tightly around Link, marveling over the shield's unique appearance. One of the shamans reached out to touch it, only to recoil with a sharp gasp at the chill.
Another gave Link an appraising look. "That's a Dragon's scale," he said solemnly, his tone of voice nearly reverent. "It resonates with th'power f'th'spirit f'water. How did y'come by such a thing?"
"It was a gift," Link answered, and when the shaman waited expectantly, he continued, "I saw Naydra flying overhead, and this scale fell t'th'earth not far from where I stood."
Whispers of astonishment drifted through the army, and the shaman who had spoken lifted his arms to the heavens. "Truly, our mission is favored f'th'Goddesses!" he exclaimed, raising his voice to the men. "Even th'great Dragons we hold sacred have chosen a champion from among us, who bears th'blade f'th'Guardian and th'symbol f'a Dragon's favor! And in their names we will cleanse our homeland from th'curse f'Dohmos!"
A great cheer went up, and Link found his head whirling dizzily in the center of it all, taken aback by the show of support and determination.
I… I started this war as a fairly typical soldier. Now… now I don't know exactly what I am. I'm not an ordinary soldier. Nor am I a commander, a leader. Yet they rally to me as if… as if I were a hero.
The Hero of Twilight, Zelda had called his ancestor. A man that had risen from an obscure village to cast out Calamity and save a kingdom. Link's mind swam at the magnitude of it all, at the weight placed upon his shoulders. He shook his head slowly.
F'I am a hero, then… I pray that I'm strong enough t'follow in Twilight's own footsteps. I pray that I'm enough t'defeat Calamity in my day.
The march towards the front gates of Orthon continued. The Zonai armies split into two branches, one traveling westwards towards Gothtwin. There was another bridge along the road to the city; once taken, it would severely cut the Boar Tribe in Orthon from their supply lines. Another group remained on the road, setting up supply lines for the branches of the Zonai armies now in every direction. It was here that the Generals remained, planning out the advance.
Link was called to their tent, where they had mapped out an estimate of the Boar positions in red based on his observations in wolf form. Boar forces wrapped around the entire southern half of the walls around Orthon, and possessed much of the land beyond that, between Guthtwin and Lohsitho.
"This is how th'Boars are getting supplies to their soldiers in and around th'city," one of the Generals explained, tracing a route from Guthtwin up to the southern wall of Orthon. "From their homelands right t'th'front. By taking th'bridges, we're making progress towards cutting them off from their supplies. But they won't be entirely cut off until we can get through this line along th'southern wall."
"Th'main force f'th'army will push th'gates, f'course," another General said. "Unless we can cut through th'line along th'wall, they'll be able t'funnel soldiers around t'th'gates and keep us from getting a foothold. However, f'we can cut them off, we'll have them surrounded. It won't matter then how many hits those lerkin Blood Wolves can take – we have th'lead t'give them, and we'll be giving it t'them from every direction."
"Your job, Link, will be t'get through th'enemy line and cut them off from reinforcements," the third General said gravely. "Our success hinges on yours. We're giving y'two hundred men – two hundred f'our best wolves, and a shaman. As y'clear th'path, we'll backfill as we can with more men t'hold th'line behind you. You'll lead th'way. Colonel Nerthin is in charge f'managing your supplies; he'll be at th'back f'your force, coordinating with th'brigade filling in behind y't'hold th'line."
Link swallowed thickly and nodded, tension building between his shoulder blades. To the Generals he dipped his head respectfully. "We'll get it done," he vowed.
Colonel Nerthin found him later, recognition flickering in his gaze. "Well, y've certainly come a long way," he said, looking him up and down. "Glad t'fight alongside y'again." His tone grew solemn. "Everything depends on you. I'll be ready with whatever you'll need – ammunition, food, water… just send a man back." He clapped a hand on Link's shoulder and continued overseeing preparations.
Link slept restlessly, feeling the weight of the soldiers' cheers and the Generals' expectations on his shoulders. He had seen the hope and the confidence in their eyes throughout the day; now as he sought rest it haunted him. They expect me t'be infallible. But I'm not – I know I'm not. What happens when they realize that, too? Will they lose that hope and confidence, and be slain by th'Blood Wolves? Will I fail, and doom everyone else?
His memories brought him back to the Battle of Uhlenom. The terrible casualties he had seen there, the men he had lost. There was a part of him now that feared the conflict over Orthon, that worried it would turn out exactly the same. That too many would die, cruel agonizing deaths on the battlefield, and they would fail to retake the city.
His thoughts turned then to the Trial of the Sword. Dying in battle over and over again, forced to come back and try again and again and again.
No – I wasn't forced t'try, he realized, gazing up at the stars glittering in the heavens above. I could've stopped trying. It would've been miserable, and I still would've died over and over again. But pressing onward despite th'misery was a choice I made.
He exhaled heavily, his gaze tracing the black outlines of the firs granting him shelter. Now I have another choice t'make. And these men, too – they must make th'choice for themselves. Nothing I can do will take that choice away from them. Whether or not they fight and show their courage is on them. As for me… I know what I will choose, no matter th'possibility f'failure.
In the morning he set out with his wolves at a tangent to the main force. Every last one of them was armed with a musket, ready to slip it from their shoulders and fire at a moment's notice as they set out towards the wall.
They reached the Boar Tribe army. Link ordered the front line of his men down on their knees and they fired on the enemy even as the enemy returned fire. Thunder and fire shattered the early morning air, smoke billowing between the forces. Link ducked behind his shield after firing, gritting his teeth as the musket rounds whizzed all around him, striking men and sending them collapsing to the ground crying out in agony with smoking holes in their gambesons and blood spattering the ground. He felt a powerful impact to his shield and grunted from the impact, his heart racing –
And then he realized that the musket ball hadn't gone through. Glancing over the top of his shield he saw that it wasn't even dented. They – they can't get through th'dragon scale!
Shaking himself, he hurried to reload his musket as the next line of men stepped forward and took a knee, firing a second volley. The Boar Tribe wasn't returning fire or reloading; they were charging forward, closing the distance between the forces. The third line of Zonai marched past the first two and fired, each line slowly but steadily gaining ground –
And then the Blood Wolves were upon them, some injured from the muskets and others unharmed, shielded by other warriors in front of them. Link cursed as he drew the Master Sword; it would have been convenient if their strategy had worked just a little longer. Two hundred wolves did not seem like very many, he thought, when outnumbered and facing the feral-looking Blood Wolves.
The Master Sword tore through the evil magic acting as their armor, biting deep into their exposed skin. His shield was plenty strong enough to block even their fiercest blows, although the power behind them jarred his bones and sent him stumbling. He killed them in the end, suffering only a few bruises from the exchange. But it seemed that for every one that he killed, two of his own wolves were slain by others.
He could see the corrupted shamans from afar, their black skull helms as unmistakable as the fiery magenta glow of their magic. But his own shaman hovered closely around the fallen Zonai, ready with cleansing spirit magic should they be roused from the dead. Link assisted the shaman with his own magic where he could, when he wasn't dodging vicious blows from the Blood Wolves. Between the two of them they managed to neutralize the threat of undead until Link reached the shamans one by one and killed them.
They left a trail of blood and carnage in their wake, but little by little they were splitting the Boar Tribe line. Link fought at the head, five wolves flanking him as they pushed into the Boar Tribe ranks. They reached a point where there were Boars and Blood Wolves on nearly every side. The air was rent with the screaming and yelling of men in battle, the clattering of blades and the occasional gunshot, the cries of the wounded. There was scarcely a chance to catch his breath, no opportunity to take a swig of water from the flask at his hip alongside his ammunition pouch. His skin steamed with sweat in the winter air where it was exposed on his arms and legs by his armor; he blinked it from his eyes as it ran down his face. He fought onwards, even as the five wolves immediately next to him were cut down to three. He sent the two fallen into peaceful rest before they could be raised with a wave of his hand trailing green sparks over their bodies and pressed ever onward.
The Master Sword began to feel heavy in his hands, his muscles leaden with fatigue and exhaustion. And he knew well that if he was tired, his men must be even more so. But so too was the Boar army growing weary of the battle. There were few ordinary soldiers left; most of their opponents now were the Blood Wolves themselves, with their heightened strength and stamina.
Link found himself moving slower, getting sloppier. A blow from a Blood Wolf sent the rim of his shield smashing into his nose, stars and pain exploding across his face. Link spat blood from his mouth, his face twisted into a feral snarl as he kept up the fight. The tip of a spear skimmed across his arm when he missed a parry and he ignored the sting, the adrenaline surging through his blood still sufficient to keep him going. A staggering blow from a Blood Wolf's mace knocked him clean off his feet, and only by lurching immediately to his feet did he escape the follow-up blow to his neck, wheezing as he fought to get air back into his lungs.
As the battle wore on across the day, Link realized that though his men were outnumbered, it was not by quite as much as he had initially feared. The Boar Tribe armies were sparse, carried solely by the might of the Blood Wolves. And every Blood Wolf slain further evened their chances. Nonetheless, with inhuman strength on their side, as Link's wolves began truly to feel their fatigue, the corrupted warriors proved devastating to the Zonai forces.
The northern flank of the Boar army at last broke ranks, retreating eastwards to join the battle at the gate. Link and his men received a much-needed moment to breathe, to rest their weary arms. Link leaned back against a tree trunk with a deep sigh, shivering slightly as his sweat began to cool. He drank deeply from the waterskin at his waist, his heart pounding violently.
By th'Dragons… what a bloodbath.
But… we did it. We broke through th'line. Now we just have t'hold it.
He ordered what remained of his force to fall back against the wall itself, preventing any Boar Tribe warriors from sneaking around behind them for a counterattack. They slept restlessly through the night, rotating through a wary watch on the surrounding woodland, and sure enough in the morning the Boar army launched an attack on their line attempting to cut them off from reinforcements from the Zonai army.
Link fired with the first line of his soldiers, then dropped back to reload as the next line stepped forward. Again the Boars made the decision to push forward through the musket fire in the hopes that their Blood Wolves could get close enough to engage. But Link and his men had more warning this time of their approach, and the Boars had a longer distance to cross. They fired off seven volleys before a single Blood Wolf managed to reach them, and Link fought the man while his wolves fired an eighth volley. Each volley after that, more Blood Wolves managed to get through the barrage, until at last the Zonai shouldered their guns and engaged in earnest with spears and swords.
The Boars were unnaturally undeterred by their massive losses at the beginning, Link noticed with disgust. His heart lurched as the field of Blood Wolves slain by musket rounds began to climb back to their feet behind their living brethren, haloed by malignant magenta light that reflected in their soulless eyes. Link waited, desperately parrying blows from the Blood Wolf before him, for the wave of green flames from his shaman to counter the evil magic and send the wolves to their rest.
"Link!" someone shouted anxiously. "Th'shaman's dead!"
Link's stomach gave an unpleasant jolt. He caught a blow from the Blood Wolf on his shield while thrusting forward with the Master Sword, tearing into the man's stomach and sending him reeling with his guts spilled. He switched his blade to his left hand and called spirit magic to his right, even as the undead horde of Blood Wolves riddled with holes lumbered forth. But there was a living Blood Wolf in front of him, a much more immediate threat. Link blocked his blows and deflected his blade to the side away from his chest before plunging the Master Sword deep into his heart and kicking him to the ground.
He rushed forward into the mass of undead, keeping his shield close to his chest and gripping his sword tightly as he reached out with spirit magic. For such a large number to be raised all at once he was certain there were multiple shamans in the attacking force – there were too many even for him to release all at once, and unlike the souls of the fallen Zonai, these souls burned with malice and the will to cause pain. They were not willing to accept peaceful rest, which made them that much more difficult to dispel. He ducked and weaved between their blows, sending those nearest to him crumpling back to the ground engulfed in spirit flame and darting to the next closest, fighting against the wicked magic binding their souls still to their bodies.
A fierce blow to his back sent him flying forward with a cry, right into one of the undead Blood Wolves, who staggered slightly at the impact and then grabbed the top of his shield in an iron grip. Link struggled to yank himself free of the creature even as it thrust its sword forward to impale him. He threw himself sideways to dodge the blow, yanking his shield from the creature's grasp with the force of his weight. He flung out a hand flashing green and sundered the souls from the corpses surrounding him, revealing the living Blood Wolf charging towards him behind them.
Exhaling heavily, Link switched his sword back to his right hand and met the warrior's flurry of blows head on, the ring of metal echoing across the battlefield. As always the physical strength of the Blood Wolves was incredible – it was almost impossible to stand before them. Link landed a blow on the man's collarbone, just missing the heart. He deflected a downward thrust towards his middle with his shield and the blade glanced off the side of his knee instead, tearing a strip of flesh from his skin. And so it went until at last Link managed to outmaneuver the Blood Wolf and stab him through the back.
He was a good distance away from the rest of the men now, in his attempt to send the rising dead back to the ground. There were Boars on every side. And he could see the magenta glow of a shaman not much farther away as more dead rose up.
"To me!" Link roared, hacking fiercely at the nearest corpse's joints and sending it helplessly crumpling to the ground. He desperately held his position against the onslaught until several wolves made it to his side, and then together they pressed deeper into the enemy ranks. "Our target is that shaman!"
The undead warriors were no match for Zonai wolves, but when aided by even a single Blood Wolf the fight was nearly overwhelming. Link drew the Blood Wolves to himself and left the undead to his companions, taking advantage of the Master Sword's ability to pierce their strengthened skin despite the growing ache in his arms from blocking or deflecting the devastating strikes of their blades and spears. Slowly they carved a path forward, undead and Blood Wolves falling before them.
They reached the shaman, encircled about by the evil flame forming a protective barrier. Snarling, Link switched the Master Sword to his left hand as his comrades fended off the Blood Wolves around him. Thrusting his right hand forward he dispelled the wicked flame and in the same instant swung his blade across the shaman's neck, severing his head from his body.
He joined his wolves in fighting the Blood Wolves converging around them, gritting his teeth as he heard one cry out from a devastating wound to his chest. Breathing hard, he caught a blow on his shield that sent him staggering and at once a spear thrust towards him. His last-second attempt to deflect was only half-successful and the tip pierced his gambeson, skidding painfully along his ribs down his side. The Blood Wolf yanked his spear free and Link lunged forward in the same instant, burying the Master Sword in his heart.
The battle raged on, the Boars desperate to retake their position along the wall and meet up with their soldiers now closed off by Zonai. But Link and his wolves held fast, despite heavy losses. By the end of this second day of fighting there was not one of them still alive without a myriad of wounds that, though insignificant, were nonetheless painful and sapped steadily at their strength. The muddy ground ran red with blood, and the forest stank of death.
Colonel Nerthin informed them that the main force had been successful in eliminating the forces of the Boar Tribe stationed at the front gates of Orthon. Link and his men had indeed held off the Boars long enough for the Zonai to surround and destroy the army at the gates. All that remained was infiltrating the first level of the city and clearing out the Boars within.
"Then th'city will be ours," Nerhtin said grimly. "We'll all gather up inside th'walls and figure out what t'do next. There'll be one more day f'fighting, we think. We're moving eastward t'join th'forces surrounding th'gate – our task now is t'keep th'Boars from overrunning us while we clear out th'city."
Link and his men traveled wearily eastwards back towards the gates of Orthon, joining Zonai that looked just as beaten and battered as they were but nonetheless raised up a great cheer when they arrived. Link managed a smile despite the stinging and aching across his body, relieved that the mission had thus far been successful. His smile faded as he wondered gravely just how many Zonai had been killed in battle just to make it this far. His own force of two-hundred had easily been cut in half.
In the morning it started up again – there came an onslaught of Boars desperately fighting to lend assistance to their comrades within the city gates. Link and the warriors guarding the gates let fly volley after volley, and now that the gates were theirs they had the ability to position men on the top of the wall with a greater vantage on the oncoming army. The Boars fired off a few volleys of their own, but they did not have the ammunition supply of the greater Zonai army.
Once enough of them fell they attempted to close the distance between them by sheltering behind the bodies of their fallen comrades raised up from the dead. But there were enough shamans with the Zonai army here at the gates that the undead didn't stay up for long, and musket fire continued throughout the advance, continuously punching holes in the Boar line. When at last the Boar army reached the Zonai, far too many of their soldiers had fallen – far too many Blood Wolves, in particular, much to Link's relief. Though his body screamed in protest he fought throughout the day, seeking out what Blood Wolves remained on the field and forcing his trembling muscles to hold against them.
As the sun was setting word came from within the gates – Orthon was theirs. Link and the army beyond the gates were ushered into the city itself, and then Link stared in horror as charges of gunpowder were set by the front gates. The stone archway crumbled as the explosion shook the ground, barring the way out with great chunks of stone too treacherous to climb, too heavy to move.
No way in. No way out.
He rushed through the crowd of exhausted men, fresh adrenaline giving him strength, until he found the Generals with Frokar next to them. In anger he exclaimed, "What about th'men holding th'bridges? Are we just abandoning them t'th'Boars? Why'd y'blow up th'gate?"
Frokar looked at him with a somber expression on his face and rested a heavy hand on his shoulder. There were, Link noticed in astonishment, tears glistening in the old man's eyes.
One of the Generals approached, a steely glint in his eyes. "Every last man in our army is already within th'city gates," he said, his voice cold and empty. He walked past Link, disappearing into the crowd.
Link didn't understand at first. Then as he looked out over the mass of soldiers checking buildings and gathering up food and medical supplies he felt as though a block of ice had dropped into his stomach. He couldn't estimate the number, but he knew it was a mere fraction of what the Zonai armies had been prior to the battles with the Boar Tribe. He sank to his knees, his heart hammering painfully fast in his chest. "By th'Dragons," he whispered weakly. "This… this is all that's left?"