The Oak Tree
Zelda erupted into a fit of coughs. Her mind reeled in confusion, unable to comprehend where she was. Her eyes opened wide, but the sights were a violent blur as the dry coughing continued to throw her body into convulsions. Nothing made sense. Was she waking from a nightmare? The blurry visions swirled before her and incomprehensible noises filled her ears. Her senses were literally out of control.
Something soon touched her lips and brought with it the first thing she could understand properly. Water. Its cool taste gave complete satisfaction as she closed her eyes and consumed it in gulps. The drink soothed her body and controlled her senses. She took her fill and lay on her back until her breathing turned from shallow gasps to deep inhalations. Tranquility settled in and she opened her eyes to a world in focus.
She was lying upon the ground beneath a clear and starry sky with an orange glow of firelight in the periphery. It was odd; she couldn't remember leaving the castle to sleep outside. She began to get herself up but found her hands and feet were bound with cord, a realization that triggered a memory. She recalled her father being pulled away and the hands that forced her to sleep. She was kidnapped. Comprehension took hold and she twisted to see a campfire surrounded by several women, all with the same orange hair. The woman nearest her was holding a skin water pouch.
An older woman rose from her seat and knelt before her. The woman drew a knife from her belt and reached for her, but Zelda instinctively tried to push her away. "Relax," said the woman in a gravelly voice, then she gripped Zelda's arm with one hand and used the knife to cut her cords. She did the same for her ankles. "There," said the woman. "You may find it easier now to sit up."
Zelda looked at her and the others with a wary eye as the woman backed away several feet and sat upright on the ground facing her. Orange light bounced off her face which bore an expression of curiosity more than malice. No words needed to be exchanged; a mere look at this woman told Zelda that she was not going to be harmed unless she tried to run. Zelda looked around to gain what little bearings the firelight could afford. Behind the circle of women was a thick tree, but she could see nothing else in the black night around her.
"That's right," said the woman. "You are far from home, Princess."
Zelda looked at her and said nothing. What was there to say, anyway, in a scenario such as this?
"More water?" she asked, and the water girl extended the pouch to her. "The sleeping elixir makes our prey easier to carry, but waking up is rather unpleasant."
Zelda accepted the water and drank. After a couple drinks she asked, "Why did you unbind me? Aren't you afraid I might run away?"
The woman chuckled and said, "You and I both know that won't happen."
Zelda mustered her courage and retorted, "I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you think."
"Oh, I know," said the woman. "If you were, I wouldn't have cut your cords. Fear makes people foolish, but foolishness isn't your style, is it?" Her eyes fixated upon Zelda's forehead, and it was only then she realized she was still wearing the circlet from the ceremony. "The Crown of Nayru," continued the woman. "I hear it's only given to the very wise. No, you won't run away, Princess, because you know better."
Her lava-like words were slow, calm, and threatening. She was a woman in total control. "Who are you?" she asked finally.
"Who am I, or who are we?" replied the woman.
"Both, I suppose."
"Why am I not surprised your father failed to teach you about the Gerudo?" said the woman. "We are hardy folk, and we make our home in the desert. It's a punishing lifestyle only the strong can survive, and as you can see, Princess, we are strong." The woman paused as though waiting for Zelda to confirm the fact, but Zelda remained silent. "I'm the eldest—the matriarch of our people. My name is Aveil."
"Where are the men?" asked Zelda.
"My, my," said Aveil, "how little you know. There are no men, Princess. The Gerudo only have one male born every hundred years."
"One?" replied Zelda, and the image of her childhood friend came forcefully to the forefront of her mind. The orange hair. The exotic features. He was one of them. "Ganondorf?" she muttered.
Aveil jumped in close to Zelda. "Where did you hear that name?" she asked urgently.
"He... he lives in the castle," said Zelda.
"And he is alive, even today?!" demanded Aveil.
"Y... yes."
"You see, daughters," said Aveil loudly so the others could hear, "Din smiles upon us. Ganondorf lives!" The others cheered in response. Aveil turned back to Zelda and asked, "And you are certain he lives even now?"
"We spoke just before the ceremony."
Aveil leaned back in surprise and the other women instantly went silent. "You spoke?"
"Yes," said Zelda. "We're friends." Aveil's face could no longer hide her true feelings, and Zelda took a small level of pride in making Aveil's jaw drop.
Aveil regrouped from the shocking news and stood to her feet, roughly taking Zelda's arm in the process and forcing her to stand. "Enough rest," she said, "we must keep moving lest the king comes looking for his precious little girl!" Aveil passed her to a Gerudo soldier. Within moments she was mounted behind the soldier on one of many horses galloping into the darkness.
It was official. Link was now a traitor to the royal crown. Not his best moment, that was for sure. He had daydreamed on many occasions about acquiring fame only to rise to infamy instead. He laughed at the thought of it.
The Gerudo pair rode their horse several yards ahead at a walking gait. The party had been on the move all night long with nary a word spoken between them except for her suggesting they move during the night and rest during the day. It made sense. At night they could move without being noticed and during the day they could keep a better lookout. She seemed to know her way well, and Link presumed they were taking what would have been her escape route had she not been captured during the ambush.
The sky was turning from black to deep blue, with a pink hue creeping from the horizon, the sun's initial fanfare. Epona was still going strong, but he wanted her to rest all the same. As dawn turned to morning, they came upon a lone oak tree in the middle of a meadow. Its branches reached wide enough to provide shade throughout the day. The girl stopped her horse at the tree and Link caught up with them and did the same.
"It's morning," said Link aloud, and the two Gerudo looked at him strangely for stating the obvious out loud. "I said, it's morning." He tapped his elf cap a couple times until Navi came flying out, yawning. "Sleep well?" he asked.
"Like a baby in an earthquake," she responded. Link felt bad for her, but there was no choice. A glowing fairy in the darkness would make potential pursuers' jobs all too easy. His hat was an ideal spot. In fact, he had made modifications to it months ago just for her. He had cut four flaps several inches above the brim, allowing her four access points into the hat. He had also cut a slit at the hat's point, which allowed plenty of airflow. It was a place for her to seek refuge when necessary, though it could be very uncomfortable, especially when Link was speeding through Hyrule on horseback.
"Breakfast," said the fairy, who spotted a stream a couple furlongs away with fruit-bearing bushes along the bank. She flew off without a word to Link, who was glad to see the rough trip hadn't managed to rattle her spirit.
As Link dismounted, he saw a smoldering old campfire and trampled grass all around the tree. "Transfer point?" he asked aloud.
"Yes," said the girl.
Link said nothing in reply and began rummaging in one of his saddle bags for some food. Seconds later he pulled out a small ration of dried fruit and a tuft of bread. "There's some food in your bags," he said to the pair without looking at them. "Take it slow," he added, sitting at the foot of the tree, "I didn't pack enough for three."
The two of them gathered meager portions of food. The girl sat down across from Link while the giant man wandered around the tree taking in his surroundings. This whole thing was awkward for Link. He knew they were glad to be freed, but he still felt they were the enemy. He was especially unsure about the girl's trustworthiness. She was, after all, one of the reasons the princess was captured in the first place.
"Your friend is awfully quiet," said Link to the girl. "I would have expected him to be pestering you all night long with questions."
"Oh, he started to," she replied, "but once I told him to wait until we reached the Gerudo city, he stopped." Link noticed a look of sadness when she said this, and he began to understand. Ganondorf's unquestioned obedience was a result of years of imprisonment. For a brief second, Link felt for her, but he quickly brushed it aside. He wasn't about to empathize with the enemy. He simply said nothing and returned to his tiny meal.
"I owe you a blue rupee," said the girl a few minutes later.
"Huh?" said Link looking up at her, her words going over his head.
"In the courtyard, when I was disguised as a beggar, you gave me a blue rupee. It's not really fair that I turned out to be a covert foot soldier. So, I figure I owe you a rupee."
Link was a little taken aback, but decided to push back a little. He didn't really care about the money, but he wasn't quite ready to forgive her for the wallop she had given him. "Yeah, you're right. So, where is it?"
The girl grinned, "Well, I don't have it now. Prisoners don't exactly get to keep their belongings, now do they?"
"Then I expect interest upon payment," he retorted.
"Fair enough," she said. "How's the head?"
Link took a defensive posture at what he considered to be her attempt to rub her victory back in his face. "You know what?" he said heatedly, "Yeah, you punched me. And you know what else? It hurt. But you had the advantage of surprise. I'm not saying I'm the best soldier in Hyrule or anything, but I'm pretty good. If the circumstances—"
"Calm down," interrupted the girl. "I wasn't trying to rub it in. I was working my way up to an apology."
"A what?"
"Look," she said in all seriousness, "You and I, we were just doing our jobs. And you're right; I had the jump on you. For what it's worth, I was terrified that you were going to prevent me from accomplishing my mission. The other soldiers were laughable, but you posed a threat, so I swung. It was a sucker punch.
"After all that," she continued, "you saved me from that prison. You didn't have to do that. More importantly, you saved Ganondorf. So, now, I want to apologize. I can't imagine what drove you to betray your king, but I'm glad you did. I believe you did a good thing today."
"That remains to be seen." replied Link. "And I did it for Zelda. Not for you, him, or the good of the Gerudo."
"All the same, I'm impressed." She snickered and added, "I can't believe you defied the king of all Hyrule in his own castle with a slingshot. That's one for the story books."
Link smiled. Now that he thought about it, it was pretty crazy. He watched the Gerudo man, who was now staring at the leaves of the oak tree canopy with a sense of wonder. Link both envied him and pitied him. This Ganondorf fellow had so long been deprived of Hyrule's natural beauty, yet he was also the only person in the world with the capacity to appreciate it to its fullest. "Ganondorf, huh?" said Link absentmindedly, then he asked the girl, "So, what's your name?"
"Nabooru," she replied.
"Nabooru." he repeated. He couldn't believe he was getting on a first name basis with this girl, but she seemed genuine. There were no pretenses about her. She was a fighter, and that was something he understood. "I'm Link. My horse is Epona, and your horse is... well... a loaner, so you can call it whatever you want." There, he'd extended the proverbial hand of friendship, but he would keep his eye on her all the same.
"Epona is a fine horse. She has seen battle," she added matter-of-factly. "I can always set apart the horses that have been to war."
Her keen eye impressed Link. "She was my father's horse," he replied. "She watched him die during a skirmish several years ago." Link stared at the horse fondly saying, "That's why only I can ride her. It's as though she's duty bound to serve only me."
Nabooru watched the horse too. "I think you're right," she said. "There are few warriors that understand the bond between man and beast. The ones that do are, in my experience, the better for it." She looked back at him. "You said he died in a skirmish?"
"Yeah," said Link. "His division was ambushed during a routine escort, or so my uncle told me. He said my father ordered his men to retreat while he held back the raiders single-handedly." He paused realizing he was growing too comfortable with this random person he wasn't even sure was not his foe. He added hastily, "Maybe it really happened that way, maybe it didn't. My uncle tends to exaggerate."
"Ambushed huh? Raiders?"
"An outfit of bandits run by some mystery man, goes by the name Sheik."
"Ah yes. We've had a few run-ins with them."
"Really?" asked Link in surprise. "I thought my uncle was just making it up. He said they hold a grudge against Hylians. I figure Sheik and you would have a bit in common."
"Doesn't mean they don't come knocking looking for recruits or supplies."
"Any takers?"
"Gerudo fight their own battles. Sounds like your father had an honorable death."
"Needless, you mean."
"There is no greater honor than protecting the lives of others."
"Maybe." Link was desperate to change the subject. "So, how many more transfer points between here and the city?"
"Six," she replied. "It's traditionally a seven day journey, but my people set up fresh horses at each point, so they will be able to escort Zelda to the city in no more than three days and nights. Assuming we move quickly ourselves each night and rest efficiently, we should be able to get there in six or seven days."
"Seven days?" said Link. "I sure hope the food can last."
"If we ration our supplies, we should make it to a small village about half way. We can purchase what we need there to complete the journey."
Her acute knowledge of their route was bittersweet. It was nice to not have to navigate the journey on instinct alone, but it was disconcerting that her information derived from the fact that, had she not been thwarted, she would be taking the princess back to her city in triumph.
Navi returned and landed on Link's shoulder, glowing gray with discomfort. Link chided her, "A little gluttonous, are we?"
"I know," she confessed. "But I haven't had forest berries in so long."
Link laughed, "You have a problem."
"Yeah," she said, holding her stomach and breathing heavily, "it all started when I let a mean little boy in green pajamas convince me to be his friend."
Link laughed. In a rare moment of sentimentality, he was truly glad she was there. Navi was the one thing in his life, especially now, he could count on.
Zelda was exhausted.
For three days and nights they had ridden without stopping, which was possible due to the Gerudo having planned fresh riders at each stop. She had been given ample food and water for the journey, but sleep had been impossible. Aveil also rode the entire journey, but she remarkably showed no similar signs of fatigue even with the rapid increase in temperature surrounding their desert home. There had been very little to see until the morning, when she had observed the silhouettes of mountains fading into view over the horizon. By the afternoon, they had reached the base of those mountains.
It took them several slow hours to traverse the rocky trail in the crease between mountains until it ended at last at the tall formidable doors of what Zelda could only assume was the Gerudo city. The doors creaked open slowly as more rugged orange-haired women pushed them open. The caravan moved inside where Zelda set her eyes upon a rather magnificent assortment of homes and shelters. Some homes were made of stone and mortar while others were made of hardened clay. The most magnificent home was the one that appeared to be carved out of the very mountain itself. She looked around at the city, which needed no walls for protection. It was nestled securely in a basin, the mountains making any entry impossible except for the gates through which she just passed.
Most of the women throughout the city were not adorned with battle gear like her escorts. Rather, they wore elegant pantaloons and loose fitting tops to stave off the heat. Despite her predicament, the whole place was a source of fascination. While the Gerudo where bent on kidnapping her, little did they know that for her, this was an opportunity to experience a world from which she had been sheltered for so long. She had the urge to dismount the horse and get to know these women, but her wits restrained her.
They travelled straight ahead toward the building within the mountain stone, but stopped just before its entrance. Aveil dismounted and ordered the others to do the same. Zelda's feet stood upon solid ground for the first time in days, but she still felt the bobbing motion of the horse. Aveil approached and said, "Welcome to the Gerudo city. This," she said, motioning toward the carved building, "is our palace. For now, it is where I lead my people, but it does not belong to me. It belongs to your... friend." Aveil had to force the word out.
"Ganondorf was supposed to be your leader?" asked Zelda, taking pain to show genuine empathy.
"My dear," said Aveil, "he is so much more than that." She and several other Gerudo women guided Zelda into the palace. The interior was remarkable and an awestruck Zelda gasped out loud.
"Impressive, isn't it?" remarked Aveil.
"Yes, it truly is," said Zelda. The interior vaulted upwards so that the ceiling was barely visible. Every inch was covered in mosaic artwork. Two pillars as thick as houses maintained support. Zelda could not discern whether the pillars were man-made or simply a carved remnant of the mountain itself, for they had been polished into perfectly smooth, glassy cylinders.
She was led through the great hall into a small chamber. "This is where you will stay," said Aveil. There was a rock slab, which Zelda presumed to be her bed, and a small basin with water for drinking. Other than lacking the comforts she was typically used to, it did not appear to be a prison cell.
"No bars?" asked Zelda.
"Of course not," said Aveil. "Where would you go? You couldn't possibly survive the mountains alone. Besides," she sneered, "unlike the beloved king of Hyrule, Gerudo do not treat their prisoners like dogs." She turned to leave but stopped just before the doorway and added, "All the same, I'd prefer it if you stayed put. I wouldn't want you to get the idea you're welcome here."
Aveil left and pulled a curtain closed over the doorway. Zelda took a few sips from the basin and lay down upon the stone slab. As hard as the bed was, fatigue overwhelmed her and she fell quickly asleep.
Impa examined the trampled grass surrounding a lone oak. Years of experience made it quite plain to her that this had been used as a rest stop for both the Gerudo kidnappers as well as Link's little band of misfits. It was a fine spot to rest for those on the run, but inadequate for her troop of soldiers.
Mounting her tall, armored stallion she gave the marching order to the two dozen men at her command. More men meant more stops. She wasn't worried about numbers. This was not going to be a siege; it was going to be a hunt. She was only a few days behind her prey, which meant her quarry had only a few more days of peace.
Eager anticipation defined Ganondorf in his entirety as, after a week of travel, they made their way up the narrow mountain ridge path. With no more than an hour or two of sleep per day under his belt, he should have been spent. But how could he? He had the whole world open to him now, for the first time in thirteen years. Besides, he used to sleep sixteen hours a day in prison. His body seemed to be withdrawing from a surplus of involuntary rest.
The girl—Nabooru was it?—sat in front of him on the horse. He had tried to ask her questions about who he was several times a day at first, but she had stalwartly refused him every time. He had finally gotten the message his requests were somehow putting her in a compromising position, so he had stopped asking. If she could only know how empty his life had been before this week began. If she only knew that this was not just a journey to a city for him, it was a journey to living—truly living.
The path finally dead ended into a formidable city gate. Above the gate, a woman shouted, "Who approaches the city of the Gerudo?"
"Nabooru."
"Impossible!" called the guard. "Nabooru was lost in the attack at Hyrule castle seven days ago!"
"Not lost," said Nabooru, "captured. Imprisoned, until the Hylian soldier you see behind us set me free."
Ganondorf looked back at the boy called Link, who did not acknowledge the credit Nabooru just bestowed upon him. Ganondorf could not decide if that was an effort at propriety or if he was too pompous to accept her compliment. There was much he did not know about the etiquette of these matters.
"And who is the one riding with you?" asked the guard.
"The king!" yelled Nabooru enthusiastically.
"Hah!" retorted the guard. "The King of Hyrule, you say. And I have Din, the Goddess herself, in my quarters shining my sword!"
Ganondorf was shocked by the guard's derision, but before he could say anything, Nabooru turned to him and whispered, "Get down and stand in front of my horse." Due to a lifetime of taking orders, he did as she asked without question. As he made his way before the horse, Nabooru called back to the guard, "Not the King of Hyrule. The king. Our king. Ganondorf returns!"
Ganondorf could not help but look back at Nabooru in shock. King?
The guard took a good look at Ganondorf and yelled, "By the Goddesses, the king! The king has returned!" She dashed away from her post. For a moment, there was silence. Ganondorf looked back again at Nabooru shrugging, but she only nodded confidently. Suddenly, the great doors began to creak, echoing against the mountain walls. As they parted, he saw a regal woman standing straight and bold. Many others stood rank and filed behind her, but they did not budge until the doors had opened fully. As much as Ganondorf wanted to run to them, he resisted the urge.
The woman approached, poised and controlled, almost ceremonially. She stopped a few feet in front of him and said, "I am Aveil, Grand Mother of your people. I have done my duty in your stead, but now you have returned to us. It is more than we could have hoped for." Aveil knelt before him, took his right hand with both of hers, kissed it tenderly and then pressed her forehead to it. After several silent seconds, she looked up and said, "Welcome home, my lord."
There it was again. My lord. Just one week before, he was an empty shell of a man. Now, he was a lord, and he wasn't even sure what exactly he was lord of. Nabooru called him king. He was a dry, withered specimen of a person, now watered with affection, affirmation, and recognition. He felt his inner being come alive at these words. Though he didn't know precisely where he was, he knew it was precisely where he belonged.
Link dismounted his faithful horse and strode confidently toward the woman kneeling before Ganondorf. When he reached her he cut right to the chase. "I'm here to negotiate the release of the princess. A trade. Him for her."
The woman calling herself Aveil grinned at him, clearly amused. She stood slowly, her full height several inches above his. Her intimidating presence unsettled Link, but he fought to conceal his unease.
"Are you now?" She circled Link, sizing him up. "I find it rather insulting that your king would send one mere child into our land to make such demands."
"He didn't send me. This is my doing." She was behind him now, so he couldn't see her expression.
Then he felt her warm breath next to his ear. She breathed, "A traitor then?"
Link said nothing and kept his resolve.
Aveil completed her circle and stood before him. "Consider your first negotiation a failure." Her hand was so swift, Link barely flinched before her knife sunk into his right leg.