Updated: 14.06.22
Chapter 13
Eldara was supposedly Eldin's capital; its grime-covered, crumbling ochre walls and rust-ridden gates most definitely portrayed the dilapidated state of the Eastern government. And the recent outbreak of the war between Humans and Moblins only added to the city's crummy demeanour.
Sir Garril stepped beneath the arched overhang of a building – it could have been a residential house, a government building or the town latrine for all he cared, they looked identical to him. His target was just leaving the colourful market stall selling glass jewellery, a parchment-wrapped box tucked under one arm. Garril chuckled quietly at the rupee waste he'd just witnessed. Even if the king himself forced him to, he'd have refused to buy such blatant frivolity as gratitude crystals or kinstone shards that were so popular right now.
The Hylian walked down the crammed alley toting his package, and Garril followed.
I don't know what Beatrice sees in this clod, he thought, his mood returning to its state of chronic displeasure that had developed during his stay in Eldara. The market teemed with activity, and occasionally he could make out his mission word – children – from the many conversations going on around him. A woman showing off her little devils portrayed on a wood carving to a friend. A man – carpenter, his hair blanched by sawdust – talking to a colleague about not wanting any. A family of six waddling through the market, mother hen screaming at her chicks to stay close. More snippets between city guards and housewives speaking of chilled wine, chirping barmaids, cherry dregs. He had to concentrate to filter out the important bits all while keeping his eyes on his target.
The jewel buyer veered off into an alleyway, making it harder for Garril to remain inconspicuous. He had to stay hidden by the street corner until enough time had passed.
The delay made him once more consider what kind of stupidity had driven him to accept Bat's assignment. This frivolous ambler with the questionable jewellery taste was nothing but a fool. How did he know that? Because from the six days he had now followed the man, all he'd been able to gather was how much money that sod made running his rupee storing business, and how many mistresses he was keeping on the side. By now, Garril was sure Batreaux had ordered him to follow that man purely out of spite. What better way to punish an ambitious entrepreneur than a blatant waste of time?
His Hylian ears twitched on instinct. There it was again, the mission word, hammered into his brain for hours that same morning. It had come from the main road behind him. He turned to make out the source and found a middle-aged woman leaning against a lantern post talking to another. They were both brown skinned with full lips and thick hair; native Eldin folk had a primitive appeal to them that Hylian women could never quite emulate. He turned his back to them and approached a broken shutter hanging askew from its brackets, inspecting it thoroughly.
"Yes, down by the east gate. I've given them two cuckoos and a bag of rice last time they were here."
"Are they still taking donations?"
"Oh, sure, they will be happy for anything you can spare. They'll be departing at four sharp, so you better hurry to the east gate. Look for a Goron wagon. They'll have signs up and people waving. And don't forget to spread the word."
Charity, again. Garril watched the women depart, debating with himself whether he should follow and see how much Kakariko's supply wagon had managed to gather today. The little detour had cost him his lead on the donkey-eared banker anyway, and he was willing to bet his favourite fiddle that the assignment had been just another of Bat's whimsies.
The east gate was at its busiest this time of day, when people from adjacent farming villages left for home, but to his renewed gloom he saw the Kakarikan wagon loaded with nothing but a couple holy sacks of squishy produce and one caged rabbit. It wasn't that people didn't wish to give donations; at this point, food was so scarce that most citizens of Eldara would feel the consequences of their charity personally. There just wasn't enough grain or livestock to go around. Chicks still had to be fed in order to grow into cuckoos. What few crops had survived the Cloud were either not ready for harvest or so dinky that the yield was barely worth the effort.
And still the wagon returned, day after day, so that the refugees from Kakariko could survive another week on people's goodwill. And once they had exhausted Eldara, they'd risk life and limb to go to every other settlement in a forty mile radius.
Sir Garril sat down on the edge of a horse fountain and observed the people passing the wagon. Faces down they hurried by, trying to ignore the heartbreaking phrases written on the advertisement boards. Some demanded money, the rest asked for food, their inquiries marked in jittery, unpractised letters made undoubtedly by children. Like all advertisement, that of the Kakarikan refugees had just one goal, and it would use whatever dirty tricks there were to make it happen. What better way to maximise your guilt than ignoring the plea of a hungering child?
Occasionally he would see a scrawny individual stop a distance away and ogle the produce sacks a little too intently. Whenever that happened, the two Gorons who usually pulled the wagon would block out the person's sight on the cart and give them a better one: that of angular pecks and biceps looking like chiselled out of rock – quite literally. One ominous look would be enough to send any potential thief hurtling the other way. For everyone knew in Eldara that these were Death Mountain Gorons, born and bred in the lava pools of the active volcano their race called home. Famine was bad, but getting punched by one of those brutes was always worse.
Garril's ruminations from that morning returned, more vigorous now. Should he do it? If he had something to donate, then perhaps those two hunks of stone would leave him alone. That was the smaller issue; if he had to, he'd just go scrounge something up from a butcher or a fisherman, and damn the horrendous prices; he was a lord's son, after all.
His one inhibiting factor was the moustached simpleton who had been instructed by Auru to keep Garril in his sights, even during stakeouts. And if there was one thing Bat could do better than spying on people, it was staying out of sight.
Garril looked around, could almost feel Bat's gaze on him. The trick was to find out where the sly fox was standing, associate the proper height – which was not much – to any person in the vicinity, find the loathsome moustache...
"Lost the banker, have you?" came that irritating Lanarian accent from his right. Garril turned to the linen-clad man approaching the fountain with bits of meat still clinging to his hands. A dirty burlap bag hung from Bat's shoulder that he set down by Garril's feet. The stench of smoked meat that drifted from it made Garril crinkle his nose.
"I didn't know you counted stuffing sausages among your skills, Batsy," he replied smugly.
"Someone has to earn a keep here, and as you well know, I am versed in most culinary crafts. That doesn't answer my question though, mon pote. The banker?"
"That man was an idiot, obsessed with pleasing whoever is currently his missy. Hardly worth my time."
"Well, that's too bad, because my sources hinted that that same banker had recently filed a large sum of rupees from a courier working for the army. Un messager qui portais le sceau du Général Farrow, mon ami."
"Et comment aurais-je pu savoir, hein?" Garril replied angrily. "Tu ne me dis jamais rien!"
"Tu aurais gâché ta mission si t'avais su. Même en ne savant rien, tu l'as quand-même gâché, imbécile. Où est-il maintenant?"
"Dans sa maison avec sa maîtresse jusqu'à ce que sa femme revient, bien sur..."
Batreaux gave a long sigh, bending over the fountain to wash away the meat bits on his hands. "I'll take care of it. Stay here and see if you can pick up any more meat. Until we go back home, we need our bags filled. We don't want our own maîtresse to skin us alive, hein?"
Garril watched, brows lifted in confusion, as Bat left in the direction of the banker's town house. He remained seated a few minutes longer, still convinced that Bat would turn back and pull him along to another useless target. But the tiny man remained unseen.
If I'd known that banker was involved with one of General Farrow's messengers, I'd have brought him to a back alley and sliced some prime parcels off of him until he talked! Now Bat's made me look like a fool, again.
More meat, he wanted? Oh, Garril would give him meat, and plenty of it. Beatrice, Sir Nahamani, Telma, even the peasant smith from Ordon, had all discounted that the largest meat slice was right there, in poor old Kakariko Village, where real food was most direly needed. But had they listened?
He'd get them their meat, most certainly. Huffing, Garril snatched up the burlap bag and stepped towards the wagon, addressing a young Eldinian man who was interrupting people's passages to preach his requests.
"You're caring for a group of children that escaped the Bulblin caravan, right?"
The man – just a boy, really – turned and scrutinized Garril and his bag. "Are you here to make a donation, Sir?"
"There was a girl, fifteen years old, who escaped the caravan. What she lived was so traumatic that she lost her memory. Has she made any improvement?"
"Listen, I'm not supposed to give out information about the children we're caring for."
Already, the two chunks of rock turned from whatever they had been contemplating and started in their direction. Garril smiled hastily and lifted the bag.
"All right, I'm here to make a donation. It's yours."
The boy grabbed the bag and opened it, his eyes growing large with delight, and the Gorons lost interest once more. "Much appreciated, friend! Our kids will be very happy for this."
There go our provisions for next week, Garril thought with a cringe. Whatever, Bat needs to lose weight anyway. And I can subside on dreams and passion.
"So, the girl?"
The Eldinian climbed onto the wagon to stow away the bag with the other provisions, pulling a tarp over them and securing it. "Sadly, no. She is doing her best to get better, but her condition is severe. How do you know of her? You're not a relative, you're Hylian."
"She's a childhood friend of a Hylian named Link. Isn't that right?"
"You know Link?"
"I'm a friend of Link's," Garril replied, face frozen in a pacifying smile. His left upper arm still throbbed where the bastard's sword had struck him. "I've been sent by him to check on Ilia. She's the only one who could tell us where the rest of the missing children are. Perhaps I can help her regain her memory."
The boy's eyes grew wider, but a measure of distrust still filled them. "Is Link here with you?"
"No, he's not here, but he sent me to help Ilia because I've done it before, with success. It's a simple process of exposure to environments she can remember, and elimination of those she doesn't feel a connection to."
He leaned forward and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. His efforts at gaining the youth's trust had borne fruit; the Eldinian did not shy away.
"Ilia was the victim of a crime, there's no doubt about it. I'm trained and qualified to find clues that help resolve a crime and bring the perpetrators into the light. And once Ilia remembers where she was held before she escaped, the lives of hundreds of children can be saved, thanks to her and, in a way, thanks to you, if you help me out."
The boy's eyes lit up with hope. "That's amazing! What can I do? Do you need a ride?"
"I'd very much appreciate if you could take me with you. I've been hitching rides since Castle Town."
"Of course, sure!"
From the corner of his eye, Garril saw another Eldinian approach, this one looking like he had some reservations about one of the donators getting chummy with his staff.
"Hold up there," the man said and shooed the boy aside. "What's this?"
"He's a friend of Link's, he came to help Ilia with her memory."
The man looked Garril up and down warily. Garril stood his ground, trying to appear friendly but confident. So you're the one in charge, eh? And letting everyone know with that fierce warrior stance.
"You don't look like a healer, and you certainly don't look like one of Link's friends. How well do you know him?"
At this point, Garril was ready to make investments; give up secrets to gain trust. A service for a service, as the big old hawk would say. He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a murmur.
"He and I are part of a group that tries to help Hyrule and its people. A secret group, so don't go around telling people. Link is involved in an important mission right now, which is why he can't be here with me. I studied at the Hyrulean College, so I know how the mind works, and I'm trained to solve crimes and mysteries. Believe me, I'm Ilia's best chance to get her memory back."
"I'm not interested in hearing how good you are. If we're to add an extra mouth to feed, I need a good reason to bring you along."
"Is bringing justice to Ilia's mistreatment not good enough?"
"What do you know about Link?"
The oaf remained steadfast. Already, the two Gorons who would pull the wagon across the Eldin prairie were taking hold of the crossbar and aligning the cart with the pavement. Garril heard the clock tower bell chime four times.
He thought quickly. This man – whoever he was to Link – wanted to hear something personal, something not every man would know about their mutual Hylian friend.
Glancing back at the Gorons, Garril was struck by inspiration; bless Link and his impulsive law infringements! "He has a horse, a large sorrel mare. Her name's Epona. He told me how he found her in the woods as a filly and raised her at just eight years of age. I saw her, a real beauty. She's got a white star on her forehead and a rust red coat. A truly admirable beast."
Finally, the man relaxed and offered a content smile. "Yeah, Epona. I remember her well. After that terrible battle, when Link... Well, I helped take care of her while he was recovering. Come on then, before they leave without us. Do you have what you need with you?"
Garril nudged the linen bundle on his back containing his fiddle and nodded, trying to mask his curiosity; when Link was recovering from what?
He was beckoned to the front where the boy from earlier offered him a dirty corner to occupy. He sat down without comment, but discreetly tucked his cloak between the rotting, water-logged wood and his clean pants. He looked up when the man in charge offered a dusty, brown-skinned hand.
"I'm Jacy."
"Sir Garril of Castle Town, at your service."
"Yep, you're definitely from Castle Town," Jacy chuckled and gave a mock bow. "Make yourself comfortable, my Lord."
Garril offered a polite smile, the diplomatic response. Plenty of time later to make that insolent native behave. For now, all he was concerned with was making sure he left the city without Bat noticing. He was in luck; when the Gorons finally began pushing the cart through the east gate, there was no butcher-clad Batsy in his line of sight to tell of Garril's mysterious departure.
Got you this time, old fool.
The journey was most uncomfortable despite the two rolling Gorons dragging the cart over dry grass to avoid the knee-deep potholes of the Eastern Road. Garril held on as best he could, ignoring Jacy's amused side-glances.
Ten miles from their destination they were approached by a small patrol of Bulblin riders shooting firelit arrows at them, and Garril now understood why Jacy kept the wagon soaked with water. Most projectiles glanced off the sides harmlessly, the wood hardened and slippery with moisture, and those few who struck were yanked out using leather gloves. One unlucky arrow buried itself in the rabbit's cage, to its occupant's profound distress. Garril pulled it away, hidden beneath the shield Jacy had handed him earlier, and found solace in the animal's terrified look; the rabbit, at least, was even more uncomfortable than he was.
It was sundown when they reached Kakariko – a fort now, as Garril had heard. They disembarked by the inn to unload their goods, and Garril perked up as Jacy jumped off the wagon to approach a young native woman at a run.
There's my ticket to that man's subordination, he thought with a grin, forcing his eyes away from the girl, and not without difficulty.
"Who's this then?" she asked and pointed at Garril as he dismounted.
"A friend of Link's, so he says," Jacy replied sourly. "He's here to help Ilia. Be careful, he's from Castle Town."
"Oh, shush you," she replied and approached Garril, stretching out a hand. "Call me Muna. Every friend of Link's is a friend to us."
"Sir Garril, at your service, my Lady."
She bowed with a smile. "Tell me, how is Link doing? We haven't heard any news of him for so long."
Garril cleared his throat, trying his best to ignore the traditional low-cut collars of Eldinian dress fashion and keep his eyes on Muna's round, tanned face. "He's very well, indeed. In the Gerudo Desert doing diplomacy at the moment, with my superior. He, errr, sends his regards. And me, hehe, to help with this particular matter."
"Yes, Ilia, the poor thing. How kind of him to send someone over. Are you versed in medicine then, Sir Garril?"
"He sure knows how to use a shield," Jacy snorted.
"Shush, mocking bird."
Garril smiled politely, reminding himself he was talking to Jacy's wonderful girlfriend. "I have a basic understanding of the body's humours, but my speciality are the workings of the mind. I'll do my best to help her. That said, I wouldn't want to waste much time. Would you be so kind as to take me to her?"
Muna took a glance at Garril's muddied travelling cloak. "Perhaps you'd like a moment to change? We have room in our latest excavated cavern."
"Ah, my Lady, this is all part of the practice," Garril replied with a mysterious finger-wag. "If she sees me in my travelling gown, as dirtied as it is, she'll know I came with haste. It will, how to say... assure her I set my first priority to her well-being. An old mind trick, but a very effective one."
Muna laughed, the sound ringing like warm church bells, and Garril noted Jacy's thundering glare in the background. "All right, Sir Garril. See the Sanctuary near the Spirit Spring? She spends most of her time in there because it offers calm and solitude. If you need anything else, just let us know."
"Many thanks, my Lady, Master Jacy," he said and bowed again, deeply, before turning to walk towards the dome-shaped clay building sitting near a duck pond with some small waterfalls. Smiling to himself, he walked past the many people sitting and talking around the pond.
Now, Link, let's see just what kind of girl made you jump head-first into a village overrun by Moblins and come back a Saint of All Toddlers.
He opened the Sanctuary door, looked across the dim chamber at the slim figure sweeping her broom beneath the offering tables, and found his tongue molten.
Oh. Okay.
0
Auru was annoyed but not surprised; what had begun as a fully-fledged civil war had trickled down to a handful of placid skirmishes at the only accessible point to the middle ring: the fortified gate in Ashinon's market place. Like a tidal wave hitting a solid rock cliff, nothing but a harmless spray remained of the refugees' initial attack. Still, that tidal wave had left its mark; burned market stalls, crumbled clay houses, dead cuckoos caught in the charge and splattered in feathery messes across the cobblestone – as if food wasn't scarce enough. Now the sea was broiling uselessly before the Gerudo cliff, trying to amass enough force for a second assault but held back by a lowered tide. And Auru knew all too well whose influence had caused the refugees to lose their drive.
"Haven't thought this one through, have you?" he jeered, hefting his bad leg up onto a low crate. They had taken refuge from the sun beneath an abandoned market stall, away from the main hubbub. He was currently talking to the supposed leader of the refugee force, and the tedious conversation had his diplomatic mind writhing like a beetle under a stick.
"Save me your preaching, Hylian," the man, an unpleasant fellow with a knack for racial stereotyping, answered. He did not even seem to notice how much he had in common with the Gerudo, his sworn enemies. Next to Auru, Link shifted closer, his hand resting on his hunting knife.
When nothing more came, Auru answered, "I preach mainly in the Castle Town barracks and only to green troops, my good man. While you were herding goats and carrying water as a wee lad, I've led whole battalions against the monster scourge and during the uprising in Labrynna. What you have here is a dilemma you've brought on yourselves. You can either accept my offer for negotiation, or continue your petty strikes against that gate, and mark my words, the Gerudo will make your lives miserable. They do not wish to become murderers, but with their home threatened, who knows what lengths they'll go to to defend it? Just look at what the Matriarch has done to my own captain. Imprisoned for wanting an audience."
"And who says your audience will go any differently? Your woman didn't make it, and she was, well... a woman. You're not even that."
"How very astute of you. No, I'm not a woman, but I've done dealings with the Gerudo in the past, and I've a recent victory to rub under their noses. What do you have to lose? If they don't accept, they'll sent me off or shoot me or cut off my head, and you can continue on your merry way. But if I get an audience, I can negotiate the release of your wives and children in exchange for you leaving their capital."
"And where would we go?"
"Back to Ayloch Bazaar where you came from."
"Firstly, it's overrun. Secondly, even if we manage to reclaim it, we'll be out in the open there. We're just going to get chased off at the next raid."
"No, because with the Arbiter's Grounds fallen, the Moblins are cut off from their supply line. Most will have entered Hyrule, thinking more reinforcements will come from the north, which leaves only a handful of them at Ayloch Bazaar. And most likely they've mowed down every palm tree in a mile radius to make their fortifications. You'll be well-defended."
That was a bluff, but Auru was at a point where his sympathy with the raiding, destroying refugee force had worn off. His main goal was to get back to Castle Town with Link and Ashei as fast as possible, and help Link in ending this war once and for all.
"Really?" the man asked, dumbstruck.
The surprise on the rebel's face drew a sigh from Auru. "You claim to be a leader here, but you're just a blind man," he grunted, waving Link closer for support. His leg was now like a piece of driftwood, heavy and stiff, that he was forced to drag behind him like a sea anchor. But the injuries were perfect for his negotiations, and damn the searing pain. At Auru's request, Link had left his bandages unchanged and bloody, and the display thus created had the effect desired; refugees all around them stopped dead in their tracks and let them pass in silent shock.
The main gate to the middle ring was currently under siege, a Gerudo-made barricade holding off the small squad of archers that fired periodically at the Gerudo stationed on top. There weren't nearly enough to cause any damage, and the Gerudo did not seem particularly concerned. Their own arrows kept the refugees cornered behind their defences.
Auru's circumstantial ally jogged forward and ordered his men to stop shooting. Soon, a similar command drifted down from the barricade. The last Gerudo arrow embedded itself in a space between two cobblestones at Auru's feet, a silent challenge the Resistance leader acknowledged with a frown.
"My name is Auru Nahamani," he called. He was delighted to see a similar consternation among the female warriors once they saw his torn and bloodied clothes. "You have spies and rangers all across the area, just like any other nation. They have notified you, surely, that the Arbiter's Grounds have fallen. The Moblin stronghold has been eradicated, and the Moblins of Ayloch Bazaar are in disarray. This was a promise I made to your Captain Fesari some three days ago, after I had fired a mortar and prevented this city from being raided once again. I have kept my promise. If you still possess any of your legendary honour, you will grant me an audience with the Matriarch, so that we may finally settle this petty feud and form a mutually beneficial alliance."
The refugees, sensing an associate in Auru, all flocked closer. Auru was just glad they kept their mouths shut.
A bustle took place among the female warriors, then a Gerudo wearing gold bracers and a large plate necklace stepped up to lean over the barricade. "Captain Fesari has been relieved of duty. I am Captain Kugun. If you wish to negotiate, you will speak to me."
"I will do no such thing," Auru retorted. "My companion and I have risked life and limb–" Here he wiggled his bandaged arm, "– to bring down that Moblin stronghold. The Matriarch has falsely imprisoned a woman under my command, and she will answer for it. I will speak to her, or I will walk away, and Hyrule will turn its back on the Gerudo race in all battles to come. And remember, Captain Kugun, that not all battles are waged with the scimitar and shield. Your race stands before its greatest battle yet: posterity. Do you truly wish to face it alone?"
Auru felt Link's eyes on him, and a knot twisted his stomach. He could not show weakness to the Gerudo before him, not now that he had their attention. But his conscience buckled under the hero's shocked gaze, almost to the point of breaking. He had to remind himself that Link was a child never before faced with diplomatic dilemmas such as this, and though Auru's threats sounded harsh to a young, unschooled mind, they were the only means to make progress.
The captain swallowed, her brown-skinned face turning an ugly shade of green. Next to Auru, the refugees mumbled and shifted. Auru lowered his chin and glared at the captain, one eyebrow raised for emphasis. His words were ambiguous enough for the refugees to remain ignorant, but he was ready to reveal king Hemenorf's death if it saved Ashei from the chopping block.
I am holding your race's future over the fire by a thread. Shall I cut it, or pull you out?
Kugun knew which choice she had to make, but she remained reluctant.
"There is no reason for your king to get involved, as sickly as he is," Auru said mildly. "This quandary is between me and the Lady Mother only. I pray for King Hemenorf's quick recovery."
Kugun nodded, her red brows forming an arrow. "If our Lady Mother is to mix with your filthy kind, you will all retreat to the square below. If one as much as tilts a lance skyward–"
"Captain Kugun, you will grant us access to the palace grounds, or Hyrule will turn its back on you. Which will it be?"
"Know, Hylian voe, that I'll be breaking our race's most sacred laws bringing your kind to our palace, and this amount of insolence will likely cost you our Mother's favours."
"Sir, should I speak with them?" Link murmured, reaching back to touch the Master Sword's linen-wrapped hilt. Auru had been adamant in finding a safe and inconspicuous way for Link to carry the blade, claiming the hero and his sword should remain united. So to camouflage the iconic blade and its gold-rimmed scabbard, they had used what remained of their bandages. In the Gerudo Desert, wrapping an iron sword in linen was not unheard of, as the cloth shielded the hilt from becoming excessively hot under the sun's radiance, and prevented all manner of glinting from the cross-guard which could give away someone's position.
The question startled Auru; Link was offering a revelation of his identity to get the Gerudo on their side.
"No, there is no need for that," he whispered back, and to the captain, "Then we will not violate those laws. We may have our discussion here."
Relief smoothed the worry from Kugun's face. After ordering them to wait, she disappeared up the road with a small contingent of soldiers. The remaining warriors opened a passage in their barricade and filed into the courtyard to begin pushing the refugees back, thus creating a bubble of empty space around the gate. Auru and Link were forced to step in between several heaves of protest among the refugees, quelling their attempts to regain some ground.
"You are sitting at the negotiating table now," Auru reminded them, his injured arm waggling in its sling like a stranded fish. "Leave your ghastly manners at the door!"
New protests and attempts to break the Gerudo line were made when, behind the barricade, women and children began to flock closer, waving at their male companions in the lower square and trying to push through but being stopped by the Gerudo soldiers. The commotion almost got out of hand, and three men separated from the Gerudo blockade and stormed towards the gate. Auru took up stance before them just as Link slid in between and brandished the Master Sword, holding it before them both like a ward. The men were distracted by the blade's magnificent glint, and Link's feral stare made them hesitate.
"There will be no petty fighting in the Lady Mother's presence!" Captain Kugun's voice thundered across the square and silenced all angry muttering. Auru turned to the gate, and watched with a sinking heart as Matriarch Aboru approached.
A colourful baldachin held up by four maidservants protected the frail figure from the glaring sun during her slow, wobbly march down. Auru remembered a tall woman, thin but regal, who always accompanied her son to political meetings, and while extremely fond of trinkets, she would assort them to match her daily regalia. The woman who now walked down the alley and past the broken barricade was practically coated in jewellery. Heavy rings of gold pulled at her arms and feet. She stooped beneath the weight of a gemstone necklace as large as a yoke. Eyeshadow had been put on so thickly that her left eye was glued shut, and her wrinkled face was streaked with paint, crooked lines of red and green trailing down her face to drip from her chin like rivulets of blood. Their shaky undulations were proof she had put them there herself in a vain attempt to accentuate her once legendary beauty, now harrowed by grief and old age.
"Blessed Mother Hylia," he swore under his breath. Every particle in him was repulsed by her appearance. Next to him, Link gasped quietly.
"The Lady Mother, in her endless grace, has accepted Sir Auru Nahamani's request for an audience," a stately Gerudo who stood next to the Matriarch announced while more maidservants set up a chair in which the old woman almost disappeared. "Sir Auru, come forth and make your pledge."
Auru did as commanded, but his voice shook minutely as he reiterated his talk with the refugee leader and spoke of the Moblin army's dispersal. The Matriarch sat silentl beneath her baldachin with her one eye observing the crowd. Her hands constantly moved to push up her enormous gold bracelets. And even as Auru relapsed to silence, she continued to stare, her hands in perpetual motion.
It took the stately Gerudo a short kneeling conversation with her to rouse some reaction from the Matriarch. As Auru heard her voice, he could only think of sandpaper rubbing against an anvil.
"Fesari, where is Fesari? She was the one who accepted that voe's ridiculous offer. Why isn't she here?"
From the crowd on the Gerudo side, the burly woman stepped forward. Auru saw in dismay how the former captain had traded her magnificent golden plate armour for a ragged green sirwal and bustier, clearly too small for her muscular body.
"I'm here, Lady Mother," Fesari said.
"You've made this deal with him. Who gave you permission to act out my role, the role of Lady Mother?"
Fesari paled, but she stood fast. "Sir Nahamani was very sure of his endeavour, and as our scouts have confirmed, he succeeded. The Moblin stronghold at the Arbiter's Grounds was destroyed."
"And now he wishes to be rewarded, doesn't he?"
"My Lady, his demands are generous compared to what he has done for us."
The sandpaper grating turned into an iron shriek. "Generous?! Does a goat demand payment for the milk it gives? This voe outsider did what every voe does, which is destroy those who oppose him in crude, dishonest ways. I know for one he is a bomb maker from Castle Town. What more voe-like way to fight than blowing up your target?"
"Lady Mother," Auru said. "My companion and I destroyed the Moblin base, but we did so with the sword and shield. Our bombs were not used. If they had been, you would have heard the blast."
The Matriarch leaned over to her assistant. "Did we hear such a blast, Umula?"
"We did not, Lady Mother."
"I believe I did, Umula. It woke me in the night. Did you not hear it? Were you asleep?"
The Gerudo cleared her throat. "You are right, Lady Mother, I heard it too."
"Then it is settled. This voe is like a goat, doing what its nature dictates, only this goat destroys mindlessly and with dangerous weapons. Fesari, you allowed him to leave even after he fired one of his abhorrent bombs in our city. He was therefore not carrying out my orders, but those of a demoted captain stripped of her rank for her treason. Therefore I see no reason to meet his demands."
"My Lady, with the destruction of the Moblin stronghold, your race is once more the strongest faction in the desert," Auru urged, trying to quell his rage. "I demand no riches from your people. What I seek is a mutually beneficial alliance between Hyrule and the Gerudo, which will help both our races and the many Human tribes who live in this region. The Moblins are the real enemy here."
"Why does he keep bleating, Umula?" Matriarch Aboru sighed. "Tell me, should I listen to this goat?"
Umula glanced first at Fesari – likely out of habit, Auru thought – and then at Kugun. Fesari nodded, Kugun shook her head.
"Muh-My Lady Mother does not have to listen if she does not wish to," was her meek answer. Auru could have strangled her.
"If you want no alliance with Hyrule, then please, my Lady, set my captain free. That is all I demand for my service to you."
The old Gerudo eyes suddenly blazed with malice. "His assassin, who was found sneaking around in my palace and tried to murder me, has been rightly imprisoned and will face her sentence come tomorrow morning. And I believe it is death by beheading, isn't it, Umula?"
"It is, Lady Mother."
"No, please, my Lady," Auru said. "She was trying to speak to Captain Fesari to get an audience with you."
"A Hylian assassin seeking an audience with the Lady Mother through a demoted captain…" Matriarch Aboru chuckled quietly, pushing up her bracelets for what seemed like the hundredth time. "We have some nice material for a play here, Umula. My son will surely adore it. Have the bard write something up, perhaps a nice comedy for Spirits Day. I want Hemenorf to be merry in this dire time. Now, approach, my girls, your Lady Mother is tired."
The maidservants stepped forward, but Umula finally seemed to remember her duty, at least once. "Lady Mother, what about the refugees? They want to leave for Ayloch Bazaar."
"What is stopping them?" Aboru's eyes shot to Kugun.
"Their demands hold no weight, Lady Mother," Kugun replied. "They've been pounding our barricade for three days."
"To reach their wives and children, silly girl. Have you no heart, Kugun? Voe need their vai to feel complete, or they go insane. If they wish to leave my city and no longer leech off our good-will, then let them." The old Gerudo made a gesture as if to scoop up Ashinon's entire Human population and throw it over the walls. "Get to it, then!"
The four maidservants – who were just as tall and muscular as every Gerudo soldier in the square – took hold of the Matriarch's chair and began carrying her back up the alley.
"Sir," Link hissed, his hand once more on the Master Sword. "Forget my concerns, we need to get Ashei out. Maybe I can do something."
"No, this woman is beyond reason," Auru sighed, turning to hobble back towards the shade; the sun was burning a second hole into his scalp. "We'll have to get Ashei out another way. I was wondering, would Midna be willing to help? Her abilities could…"
He trailed off as Fesari broke from the Gerudo throng and hurried towards them.
"Captain?"
"This is wrong, Sir," she muttered. "You did outstanding work. I had expected more from her."
"It is what it is, Captain. She's lost her son, and she's facing your race's potential extinction."
"You could have pressured her by threatening to spill news of the king's death. Why didn't you?"
Auru sighed and sat heavily on a crate. "What good would that do, apart from rousing every tribe out there to take up arms and storm Ashinon once again? She obviously believes he's still alive, or is keeping up a charade to confront her grief. I'm not a monster, Captain. I know what it means to lose a son. I'm just worried about Miss Ashei. She's not to blame for any of this."
Fesari shook her head, her Gerudo face hardening with resolve.
"There are still some soldiers loyal to me. Wait by the oasis outside the city until nightfall, and have your horses ready. One of my guards will bring her to you."
Auru exchanged a look with Link, and smiled at the Gerudo. "We're in your debt, Captain."
"Civilian now, Sir Auru."
"Hogwash, my Lady. You have a soldier's heart. But without the Matriarch's consent, Hyrule can't give you military support. We're spread thin as it is."
"No need for that. I'll do what I can to relieve our Lady Mother from her rule over Ashinon. It'll take time, and a civil war is the last thing we need right now, but Captain Amauger was right: the Lady Mother does more harm than good. I saw that today."
"Or you could come with us. Our Agency could use someone with your skills."
Fesari glanced around, and Auru spotted two Gerudo guards already making their way towards them.
"And work from the shadows, like Miss Ashei suggested?" Fesari chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm honoured by your proposal, but I'd be leaving my people behind, and I can't do that. The Gerudo must stay strong, hopefully as an ally to Hyrule in the future. I'll do what I can from inside. The oasis, at nightfall. Try not to look too suspicious."
The guards had arrived and took hold of Fesari's arms. Before they could usher her away, however, Link suddenly stepped forward and clapped his hand over Fesari's shoulder. "Your daughter wasn't at the Arbiter's Grounds," he said. "If Arute is in Hyrule, we'll find her."
Fesari's eyes glimmered as they darted from Link to Auru, who nodded. "The boy is right. We have people looking everywhere for the children. We'll do whatever we can to bring her back to you."
"Thank you…" Fesari whispered before the guards pulled her back through the gate, through the crowd of Human women and children finally reunited with their husbands. Following the mass of refugees, Auru and Link returned to their small camp by the city gates.
"Let's just hope Fesari isn't being arrested for talking to us. That would make it difficult for Ashei to get out before she's a dead woman walking."
Link nodded and pointed at his shadow. "Midna followed them. If anything goes wrong, she'll find a way."
0
After night had fallen over Ashinon, another Agency member was harshly woken by the sound of rattling metal.
Ashei bolted up, the rash movement making her matted hair brush against the algae on the wall and adding another layer of grime to her coiffure's persisting filth. She had more pressing priorities at the moment though; in the darkened corridor outside her cell, just visible within a pool of moonlight, lay a small bundle of keys.
She frowned, craning her neck to see who had thrown them. The hallway was deserted.
"Oi, missy! Grab' em keys, will ya? Get us outta here!"
She rolled her eyes and approached her bars to glance at her newest male prison fellows, thankfully screened off by solid walls of sandstone and half-rotten iron bars; while Gerudo clearly weren't so firm on gender restrictions in their prisons, they still maintained it between cells. And lucky for her, the keys had landed just within her reach, and hers only.
"Convenient," she said, stooping to pick them up.
"That's a good missy, now don't you forget about us here."
She ignored the catcalls, unlocking her door after identifying the cell block key. That one, she saw, had been cast in bronze. It would not be very solid.
Smirking at the other prisoners, she took the block key and separated it from the bundle. She then hooked it into an iron torch holder on the wall, where with a bit of force and patience, she managed to break the brittle cast near the head, the shaft now barely long enough to fit into the locks and without a ring to act as leverage.
"Hey! What d'you think you're doin', missy?!"
"And that's your demise, gentlemen. I loathe being called missy." Baring her teeth, she tossed the key head into the nearest cell. "You can still open your cell door with that. But I'd suggest you keep quiet unless you want to add to your challenge. Now show some finger-strength!"
She left the cell block already thinking of her next task, the scrambling prisoners behind her not even a worry any more. Who had thrown in the keys? Were they still on site, waiting for her, for anyone? There were too many unknowns for her to feel at ease with her current situation, and first of all, she had to get out of the compound unseen.
The remaining keys got her as far as the main hall, and to her surprise there was only one guard stationed; clearly the tensions outside had left the Gerudo garrison spread thin. Ashei crept forward, feeling the pressure of the unnatural pose uncomfortably in her spine; she was made for fencing, not for sneaking around.
A clatter came from the corridor directly opposite the female guard and made the woman look ahead. Moving quickly, Ashei got a lock on her. She only incapacitated the Gerudo – no need to add actual murder to her list of accusations. Though she glanced into the hallway where the sound had come from, finding nothing but darkness.
Too convenient... she thought.
The prison was a large clay building within the barracks on the inner ring's edge. One side of it hugged the city walls and gave the outer cell blocks a barred view of the lower districts. Ashei ran along that wall, ducking behind buildings and past a training courtyard, and from her hiding spot by the walls of the barracks' sleeping quarters she could hear female voices talking among themselves.
Looks peaceful enough. What happened to the big spectacular revolution my prison buddies were yapping on about?
It was clear the fighting was over, and that left Ashei with a problem; no fighting meant no distraction for the palace guards patrolling the area. There were at least a dozen walking the perimeter, and Ashei would not make the same mistake of underestimating their superior night vision again. What she needed was a way out of the palace grounds that did not involve the main gate. Vaulting the thirty feet wall was unthinkable, and even if she got a hold of some rope – or a grappling hook, how sweet would that be? – there were no spikes on top to grab hold of. The grapple would break off a bit of clay and shower her in earth dust, and her hair was filthy enough as it was, thank you very much.
What she needed was some sort of distraction, a way of getting the attention of all guards at once, similar to what was happening at the gate right now, a shadow hurrying along the wall for example, or a large animal growling at people and baring massive canines –
Ashei stopped short, staring at the beast that had just stormed through the gate. It was a giant dog or a form of large wolf, a Wolfos perhaps, and when did she ever hear of Wolfos in the desert? The only desert critters she knew – with the exception of her commander's favourite, the Molduga – were Leevers and Moldorms, both species more a nuisance jumping from the sand to nip at your horse's ankles than actually dangerous. Wolfos only appeared in mountainous regions, at least according to Kilton's Monstoclopedia.
Science aside, the beast was creating exactly the distraction necessary for her to slip out the main gate unseen. Growling and barking it ran first across the training court and towards the prison, where it whirled around and barely avoided an arrow fired at it. Ashei fought the urge to look back at it, dismissing it as nothing but another very lucky coincidence that allowed her to escape.
Panting, she crouched inside an empty market stall and listened to the Gerudo's calls and yells as they hunted the creature down. To Ashei's brief horror, the Wolfos retraced its steps and thundered back into the outer ring, pulling soldiers and guards with it. But they vanished in the opposite direction, giving her plenty of time to sneak out the other way, the shorter way, if her memory was correct. And while she hurried on, she thought constantly: too convenient, too convenient, too convenient…
She was blocked by the returning guards with Ashinon's outer gate in plain view, the portcullis still open.
"Did anybody see it?"
"Where did it go?"
"I nicked it with an arrow, it won't get far."
"You only grazed it, Lomeir, so quit bragging!"
"Over there!"
A low growl sounded mere feet behind her, and Ashei stiffened. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the massive wolf standing in the middle of the street in a broad and challenging stance, and for just a second she saw a blue shimmer lighting up its eyes as a torch was tossed at it, and she thought fleetingly: Wolfos eyes are black, not blue! What kind of wolf has blue eyes?
Then it bounded up the street again, and moments later the Gerudo guards stormed after it. She did not see where it went, but she frankly did not care. Her only thought was to reach the portcullis without being spotted, and with most guards on the ramparts and around the watchtowers busy with searching for the Wolfos, that task was rendered childishly easy.
The moment she breathed the fresh, slightly acidic desert air, Ashei knew what her next two destinations would be – once out of this hell-hole and back into civilization: first the bank and then Din's Temple in Castle Town where she would donate her withdrawals for the goddess's mighty grace. Rupees were neat, but she valued her life more than riches, and Din had just saved her not only from imprisonment, but from execution and disembowelment.
She was wondering how far Din's grace would reach and if it would help her find her lost commander, when a breathless voice rang out behind her.
"Over here, Captain."
She reeled around and faced the crouching figure that ducked out of the gate's shadow, and for just a moment she thought the Wolfos had thrown on a hooded cloak and come to catch her after all. The blue eyes just visible below the hood's rim, and which shimmered in the unfiltered moonlight, looked almost identical. Then she recognized the young face of Auru's newest protégé.
"Din curse you, Link!" she snapped. She remembered her sudden endearment with the Goddess of Power, and mentally retracted the curse. "Sorry, you just startled me. What were you thinking, sneaking into a Gerudo fort all on your own? A young sport like you, convict or not, will get their jewels chopped off! You do plan on having children one day, don't you?"
The youth gazed at her blankly, and Ashei spotted the white lining of a bandage near his exposed collarbone. He was also heaving quietly for breath, as if having run through the entire city before meeting her.
"What are you talking about, Captain?" Link asked, crouching low, and the move prompted him to shoot a hand to his side as if in sudden pain. Ashei figured the bandage was not there for embellishment.
"You were the one who tossed the keys near my cell, weren't you?"
His face showed only genuine confusion. "I don't know what you mean, Captain. I was just looking for a way inside when you came out."
"Don't take me for a fool, you just came from inside! Who did it then?"
"Who did what?"
"Who threw the damn— ah, nevermind! Let's make ourselves scarce, before that Wolfos comes back this way. Where's Auru?"
"He's by the oasis with our horses. What Wolfos?"
"Oh, I don't know, there was one running amok in the city. The diversion helped me escape."
"Sir Auru saw a Wolfos at the Arbiter's Grounds," Link replied while he led her along the city walls, being careful to stay low to avoid detection from above. "It might be the same one."
"Speaking of, how did it all go at the Grounds? Looks like you got a bit of a beating."
Her words fell quiet as she lay eyes upon the man sitting below a date palm by the small city oasis. It was clearly her commander, but he looked even worse for wear than Link.
"Sweet Din..."
"Ah, you found her! How delightful to see you again, Captain!"
Auru rose with difficulty, but instead of reaching for the brief, professional hug that Ashei had already initiated, he hobbled towards his caramel horse and got on with many a grunt of pain.
"Quick, we should leave before your presence is missed, Captain. How did it feel to be on the wrong end of the law? Are you trying to compete with our young ne'er-do-good over there? I believe she's got you beat, Link; assassination attempt, oh dear. Horse theft pales in comparison."
"Leave the boy alone, he just saved my aristocratic hide, he did," Ashei countered, giving her unreciprocated hug to her stallion instead, who enjoyed it well enough.
"I didn't, Sir, I was just trying to get in when she came out," Link protested calmly.
"You were in there, Link, stop denying it," Ashei retorted.
"Most likely our friend Captain Fesari to thank for that, don't we?" Auru interjected, a little hastily, in Ashei's opinion. "She promised us she'd get you out by nightfall, Miss Ashei. When night came and you still hadn't shown up, I sent young Link in to check if he could already see you."
"I doubt Fesari had anything to do with it. No, it was as if the keys just sprung out of thin air…"
"How ridiculous, Captain. Keys are keys and not magical fairies with wings. The Captain likely tossed them into your cell and then prayed to the Seven Heroines you'd find your own way out. Which you did. Commendations for that, Miss Ashei. We'll make a spy out of you yet. Are we all accounted for, Link? No one left behind? Good, then, let's be off."
Auru sent his horse onward, and Ashei spotted on it the filled explosives bags, which made her frown.
"So what happened at the Arbiter's Grounds? Did you destroy the army? Why do you still have so many bombs?"
Because Auru was riding so fast, Ashei was forced to leave Link's side and goad her stallion onward to catch up. Link's massive mare just lengthened her stride and was on the leader's other side in a heartbeat. Torch-less and cloaked, their little group reminded Ashei of a tale she had heard from her father; phantoms in the night riding horses made of darkness. The moon hung pale and low over the horizon, casting shadows half a mile long across the compacted desert road towards faraway Messana in the north-east. They were taking the same route through the sandstone formations as they had coming here, but something felt different. And it wasn't only the night that seemed just a little darker than usual.
"Sir Auru, what happened over there?"
Auru finally turned towards her, and Ashei saw a strip of gauze on his head flail like a snake ready to pounce.
"The Sages, Miss Ashei. We met the Ancient Sages."
She cocked her head, frowning. Father had spoken about the Ancient Sages, albeit briefly. She knew they were immortal beings in service of the royal family and the goddesses, and unlike the Light Spirits they actually appeared to their mortal subjects on a more or less regular basis – if you counted semi-centennially regular. The last time they had visited Hyrule was during the princess's tenth birthday. Ashei still remembered the banners and plays and celebrations in honour of their coming, but her twenty-nine-year-old mind had been too preoccupied with ignoring the wooing of pimple-ridden suitors her mother had sent hurtling in her direction to truly acknowledge the festivity's occasion.
Still, the Sages only appeared to the royal family and their consorts – never to common people.
"The Ancient Sages spoke to you two?" she asked, incredulous.
Auru's eyes were wide, and Ashei recognized the look in them. It was the same expression she'd seen behind the hawk's mask on the carnival night, as all the Resistance members pronounced their silent vows. Pride, determination and – in the face of their kingdom's unknown fate – utter, utter terror.
"We know now what is truly going on, Captain," Auru called. His voice was stronger than his injured, pain-ridden body should have allowed. "We know who our enemy is, and we know that there are forces out there far greater than we ever imagined. But the goddesses are on our side, Ashei. Hylia is with us, and by her holy Grace, we will stop this. We will stop this before it can get any worse!"
Next to them, Link rode on silently, and Ashei fleetingly noticed the boy's sword, which was different to the one he had worn coming into the desert.
It was wrapped in white bandages.
000
Author's note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was a lot of fun to write, especially now that both Auru and Link have secrets that other members of the group are not supposed to know. Garril is an OC who, at first, was not at all on my radar for a POV, but the opportunity presented itself, and I took it. It's fun and challenging to try out different perspectives and attempt to slip into the role of many different characters, each with their own background and manners and goals. Plus, it gives me the opportunity to see the hero I've created from whole new angles and through the eyes of people who are, at times, very different. I'd love to know what your thoughts are on this.
Like before, I used French (named Lanarian in my story), this time to give Batreaux and Garril a language they use to communicate sensitive topics during stakeouts. I wrote it in such a way that you can get the gist of it without having to know every word (which is the base of all language learning), but for those you'd like to know what exactly is being said, here the translations:
mon pote – buddy, my buddy
"Un messager qui portais le sceau du Général Farrow, mon ami." – "A messenger who carried General Farrow's seal, my friend."
"Et comment aurais-je pu savoir, hein? Tu ne me dis jamais rien!" – "And how could I have known, huh? You never tell me anything!"
"Tu aurais gâché ta mission si t'avais su. Même en ne savant rien, tu l'as quand-même gâché, imbécile. Où est-il maintenant?" – "You would have squandered your mission if you'd known. Despite not knowing, you've still squandered it, idiot. Where is he now?"
"Dans sa maison avec sa maîtresse jusqu'à ce que sa femme revient, bien sur..." – "In his house with his mistress until his wife returns, of course."
And now, on to the Snow Peak Ruins!
Stay healthy, stay safe!
DR
Update note: Calamity of Ages: changed Ashei's age battling pimple-ridden suitors from age 17 to age 29.