A.N: Hello again, my fantastic readers!
First of all, apologies for the year long delay in updating this. Unfortunately, I have been suffering from some serious long term health problems which kept me from writing at all for almost 7 months. While my health problems have by no means been resolved, I am now feeling well enough to start getting back into it but I'm afraid it may be rather a slow process, so if your patience hasn't already dried up from this long delay, I ask you to please bear with me. The story's far from over and I still very much wish to tell it to any who enjoy it.
As always, your feedback is welcome and much appreciated. I love writing and have missed it dreadfully but just as much, I love to know that you guys are actually enjoying these fruits of my slightly eccentric imagination! I just hope, after my long hiatus from writing, that I can still provide the same quality as before.
And now, after much delay, back to the story.
Chapter 34 – Duel of the fates
The hall was buzzing; the outer tables with raucous chatter, the centre sparking with silent anticipation, awaiting the first thunder crack.
One council member's mouth was open.
The rest beheld their comrade with eager eyes.
Zelda's gaze held a veil of cool composure – a veil that fortunately only her allies could penetrate to glimpse her nerves.
Link's eyes flitted agitatedly back and forth.
The candles flickered.
They waited…
For what seemed like an age…
Then the mouth closed without a word, and his peers sighed in disappointment while Link did so in relief.
Perhaps…
Another councillor – a puffy middle-aged wart of a man – coughed and spoke. "Your highness, I must commend you on your boldness at inviting 'Sir Link' to dine with us tonight." It wasn't the heavy thunder Link had been expecting, being almost cordial in its delivery, but the contempt at speaking his name was enough.
Zelda met his cordiality with her own. "But of course, Lord Belmonte. He is my Royal Shield after all. It would have been most discourteous of me to withhold his invitation – not to mention unconstitutional; for he is my protection, and as the law states, I must have protection."
Belmonte's face contorted. "Hmph, discourteous…" he hissed bitterly under his breath before redonning his mask of calm civility, at least in his unctuous voice – though the words spoken were a mockery of it. "Then pray may I ask, your highness; is it more discourteous than ignoring the grievances of an esteemed guest – a foreign Lord of great intellect, honour and wealth – against this man?"
"Indeed, it would be… and if said esteemed guest's grievances had been legitimate and had raised in a proper and appropriately respectable manner, I would have done him the courtesy of considering them and, if necessary, acting to rectify or compensate him. However, as I have made abundantly clear for many hours now, Sir Tywin's claims are, at best, questionable…"
"Questionable?!"
"Such consternation? Even after all our debate, you maintain absolutely no doubts in Sir Tywin's extraordinary accusations?"
"Sir Link drew a sword on him! We all saw it with our own eyes!" Interjected Lord Reefa hotly.
"Yes…" Zelda replied coolly, marking Reefa with a frosty blue gaze "… and you also witnessed Sir Eddengrin Halshaw actually strike him, yet bizarrely any reference to such an act – a blatant assault on our esteemed guest's person; an actual criminal offense – is conspicuously disregarded from proceedings."
"Sir Tywin blames Sir Link for the incident."
"Indeed; and with such impeccable logic as to asseverate that Sir Link – upon first acquaintance with his venerable self – developed such an instant, inexplicable and irresistible animus towards him – born entirely without reason, provocation or justification, or so the honourable duke claims – that he immediately conceived a plot to humiliate him; a plot that would only come to fruition almost three months later. Sir Link's fiendish scheme? Teach the duke a truly withering insult and understate its audacity, in the absolute certainty that not only would this sophisticated, upstanding gentleman use it eventually but that, when he did, it would be against someone who would both catch what he was saying through his accent and, more importantly, take extreme offense at it – rather than simply assuming the duke, with his admittedly imperfect grasp of our language, had merely misspoken…" Link had to admit, for all his nerves over these accusations, Zelda couldn't have done a much better job highlighting their absurdity and he almost chuckled. Much to his surprise – and the rest of the centre tables' – his amusement was shared and given voice by the most unexpected of company.
"Hmphmph, sounds more childish prank than malicious vendetta to me." Snorted Lord Halshaw wryly.
"Misleading a foreign dignitary is no laughing matter!" Retorted Lord Reefa, leaning forward. "Whether for malice or childish folly, Sir Link's 'prank' is responsible for a major diplomatic incident and proves that he lacks – as I warned from the very start – even the most basic levels of discipline and judgement required for his posting…"
"That is assuming he did it." Zelda rebuked swiftly, followed yet again by Halshaw.
"Ha. Reefa, if you truly bought Tywin's crap, you're a bigger fool than I gave you credit for."
"Shut it, you c…"
"Gentlemen, please!" Lord Samuel Fairclough leapt in to try and calm matters, betraying just a hint of exasperation. "You are guests in my home and, as your host, I would kindly ask that you demonstrate a modicum of decorum at my table, especially in the presence of my family."
"As if your family has any decency left to protect." Muttered Reefa to himself.
Samuel's face turned stony. "Do you wish to repeat that for our ears, Lord Reefa."
"… No." he growled sullenly.
Lord Fairclough sighed and then continued. "Now, we've been raking the same mucky earth for the last four hours. Has this furrow not been ploughed enough?"
"Clearly not. If it had, Her Highness would have been more considerate than to invite Sir Link to dine with us." Belmonte answered indignantly, earning nods and hums of agreement from his peers.
Zelda stepped in once more with the sort of dignified defiance only she could conjure. "It would not matter how many times you ploughed this or any other furrow, Lord Belmonte. Without solid proof, my decision will not change."
Reefa returned with a sneer. "Again, you claim to desire solid proof yet you doubt the word of Sir Tywin, a man of impeccable breeding, an unimpeachable bloodline? And for what? A man of no breeding at all. A man who couldn't even earn the love of his own parents…"
A needle-like pain stabbed Link's chest and a second later a familiar growl replied, groggy but threatening. Without hesitation, Link snatched one of Zelda's thoughtfully gifted green popper berries and stuffed it roughly into his mouth. After thoroughly pulverising the poor fruit to vent his dark feelings, he glared at reefa and, covering his mouth with a serviette, sought to spit out his excess bitterness along with the pips.
It seemed to work and the groggy beast was pacified… yet some remnant of blackness remained – a sliver of self-loathing. Though he deeply wished otherwise, it seemed to prove that there was some connection between the beast and his orphan heritage. What this connection was, why it existed or how it could be solved however were still just as much an enigma as the beast itself.
Fortunately, while Lord Reefa continued to argue, Link's parentless past was seemingly dropped for now. Even had the topic been returned to, the hero wouldn't have noticed as he was suddenly distracted by a hiss to his left. "Pssst, Link. Um, so I missed when they discussed this at the meeting but am I understanding right; that Tywin's claiming that you taught him a… Hang on, I introduced you to him. I was there. That means… Is he blaming you for that um, oh gosh what was it? Flaming flop…"
"Philandering Fopdoodle. Yes, that." Link whispered back.
"And he blames you?"
"For "teaching" him it AND the blackeye he got for using it."
"Hang on. But we know what really happened, surely if you just told them… Oh no, silly me, for a moment I forgot we were dealing with politicians rather than people." Link's brow shot up and, despite the situation, he found himself restraining a laugh for the second time in how many minutes. Since when had Shad had a sharp wit? He'd always possessed incredible smarts… but wit? Wit required a level of boldness and self-assuredness far beyond his character, at least until now – the performance hadn't been flawless but the fact he committed to it at all, and so quickly!? Perhaps Tamara's magic wasn't all bad? Perhaps love had imbued the man with a little boldness – at least when his lady wasn't entrancing him.
Link had been initially irritated by the scholar's interruption but, while his general pessimism over the situation stayed to hound him, he quickly came to appreciate the distraction. Zelda had told him to "leave it to her" and focusing on a battle he was powerless to intervene in would only drive him crazy – with potentially catastrophic results. He should take every opportunity of distraction he could get.
"You know you're in love with a politician's daughter, right?" He quipped drolly.
"Ha! Fairclough's no politician; he just has a career in politics. Huge difference…"
"Touché."
"I mean. Could you imagine a politician raising an angel like Tamara?"
Link internally groaned. Of course Shad would turn this into an opportunity to gush over his beloved! Oh well, it's still a distraction. "No." He answered, trying to balance quietness and some feigned enthusiasm.
"I mean, could you imagine a politician's daughter having her kindness? her passion?"
"No." Link mumbled, wondering how long the worship would continue. Mercy, it seemed, heard his silent prayer… but there was a sting in the tail.
"Oh, ahem, not that I'd, um, not that I'd tar all politicians' progeny with their parents' sins. After all, you can't choose your parents, can you?"
The question was innocent, but it still brought the conversation dangerously close to the gaping hole that was the mystery of his own parents. Until today it had been a mystery easily ignored, yet now it lurked like an ominous shadow in the recesses of his thoughts; a poisonous parasite, seemingly inescapable and ever-present. Inescapable it may have appeared but Link tried all the same, hastily redirecting the conversation. "No, I guess you can't. But you're right about the council. If either of us told them the truth I doubt they'd be interested or even believe us. If I tried, they'd just say I'm lying and if you did then they'd probably accuse you of… oh, what's that word? Beginning with C?"
"Conspiring?"
"Well, that certain fits, though it wasn't the word I was thinking of. What was it?"
"Collusion?"
"Yeah, that."
"I get it. It makes sense and from what acquaintance I have with them… I could certainly picture them saying that…" Shad paused and bit his lip, suddenly rueful "I must confession though… and I'm really sorry Link; I hate to say it but… ahem, even if I thought there were a small chance my speaking up might help I'm not sure I could have the, um, the heart to do it – at least in this particularly case."
Link momentarily thought Shad was referring to his shyness but then he caught the scholar's eyes turn once more to Tamara, this time they were tinged with worry, and the truth became apparent.
"Because you'd risk, um, implicating her?"
Shad nodded. "She was the one who called him a, oh what was it again?"
"Philandering fopdoodle."
"Yes. if I spoke out… I could lose it all…" The scholar hung his head, shamefaced. "… I'm sorry Link."
The apology was unnecessary. While initially pricking Link's feelings, perspective and pessimism quickly mellowed his thoughts. it would be a gamble on slim odds for Shad; on the one hand, a small hope of defending a friend and on the other, the real risk of hurting and alienating the lady he loved. Theirs may have been a whirlwind relationship but Link didn't doubt the strength of Shad and Tamara's mutual feelings. Thinking of his own love for Zelda, he could not imagine gambling her reputation over such weak odds, had his and Shad's positions been reversed. Heck, their positions had already been reversed with the whole spiced wine dilemma and he had chosen Zelda – though not without a guilty conscience.
"It's alright Shad. I understand. If the shoe were on the other foot and my love had been…" He suddenly froze. He'd just said the 'L' word aloud, referring to his feelings for Zelda! True, he hadn't been about to spill her identity but that wasn't the issue. He'd thought the word many times whenever she'd crossed his mind but to actually intentionally speak it aloud… that was something entirely more serious! There was still a part of him which clung to a hope – a vain fool's hope – that his feelings were simply an infuriatingly persistent crush that would blow over eventually. Using the 'L' word aloud felt like the last nail in that hope's coffin. Oh well, it was just a slip of the tongue. Plenty of people use it when they don't mean it. It didn't mean it was true.
"Link?"
"Hm, oh I was just saying if our positions were reversed… I'd struggle too. When you have, ahem, those feelings for someone… you want to protect them…. more than anything." At the last word he choked and his gaze turned to Zelda, still battling the council on his behalf, though his ears ignored the words being spoken. Yes, he wanted nothing more than to protect her, and yet he could do nothing, while she, without love's driving force to embolden her, withstood storm after mighty storm to protect him – she'd been doing it ever since their fateful reunion in Ordon. Why? He knew she considered him a friend; though at this very moment he couldn't fathom a single reason why he deserved to be held in such high regard – after the damage he'd done. Was it obligation? Did his past heroics make her feel she owed him her protection. He despised being a burden, however unintentionally. Perhaps…
The sliver of self-loathing gnawed away at him… the long shadow of his past.
His hand went to his pocket and Zelda's hidden message.
Rest assured, my faith in you is steadfast. I pray I still have yours…
The words echoed in his head, given voice by his imagination. She still had faith in him! She still had faith in him, and no matter how misguided he may consider that faith to be, she deserved to have it returned. Damn this negativity! If she wanted him around, he'd do his darndest to make it so – even if that meant just keeping his own demons at bay.
"Phew, I'm so glad you understand, Link. It's not just about protecting her though, no, this is the selfish part, it's about… not wanting her to think less of me."
Again, Shad's words cut deep. How Link wished Zelda wouldn't think less of him after today, but no matter the outcome of the battle, it seemed an impossible dream. Regardless of what she told him, he couldn't see how she could just sweep his sins aside without private judgement. "Believe me, I get that too."
Shad sighed with relief. "Phew, that's a weight off my chest… particularly knowing you're in the same boat."
Link suppressed a flinch. Unlike Shad, his own romantic boat was doomed to sink before it left harbour. "Oh, I'm sure there are plenty in the same boat as you." he tried airily to dismiss it but Shad wouldn't let it go.
"But you actually admitted it." He replied in hushed admiration.
"Yeah, well, ahem, um… I didn't really want to."
"I know… sorry about that."
"Oh, now cut that out. You apologise even more than I do, and I've been chastised by Ze… er, the princess herself for that."
"I know, Ashei often said the same…" Shad was suddenly rueful again. "Link, do you know… ahem, have I said something to upset her?"
The tangent caught him off guard, yet his reply came quickly and without much thought. "Not that I know of. Why?"
"She's just seemed… irritated with me recently… that is, since we arrived here. I was just wondering. Did I say something when you two helped me from the carriage? My memory's rather hazy about it."
Now that he cast his mind back, Link did recall her becoming angry towards the end of the conversation but he wouldn't have liked to speculate why. Half the time he felt even Ashei herself didn't fully understand her own mind, so what chance did he have? "Not that I recall."
"And she hasn't mentioned anything to you?"
"No. We haven't seen much of each other since then though."
"Oh…" Shad mumbled, before turning more hopeful "Well at least I have you to confide in."
Link's ears where suddenly arrested by a sudden violent thump on the table across from them. Reefa surged to his feet, red faced and barking "Unacceptable! This is not some village assembly! We aren't discussing some two-rupee market stall skimming on tax! I demand…"
The rabid man was interrupted by a calm hand on his shoulder. "That will do, Lord Reefa, that will do." Lord Vanhorn chastised, as one would an overeager child, but his face was still smiling – a chilling gleam in his eye.
Link shuddered. Damn it! That bastard was up to something! There was no doubt of that, but what was it? Was Vanhorn's blackmail plot about to come to fruition or was it something else equally devious?
Turning back to Shad, Link couldn't escape the bitter conclusion that his friend's dreams of a confidant looked ever more like a pipedream. "Hm, that's if I'm still here tomorrow." He muttered.
He was taken aback by the depth of concern held in the scholar's spectacled gaze when he whipped round to meet the hero's dull sideways glance. "Link, you were never this way during the Twilight adv…"
"What way?" Link snapped defensively, only for his ire to immediately turn to guilt.
Shad shuffled uncomfortable. "So… defeatist. I mean, I get today's events are a major blow… but surely you faced worse during the Twilight… and triumphed. I… I don't mean to pry but… you know what, forget it. I'm sorry. it's not my business."
Shad's guilty face stirred Link's conscience. His friend was just looking out for him "No, it's alright. Today, it feels like a day for everyone's business."
"So, you're not… mad?"
"Ask away. I just may not answer."
"Well, how do I put this… It just seems you've, um, lost… something. Did something happen to you? After your adventure?"
What happened to him after the Twilight? That was just another in the list of questions he asked himself often yet never received a straight answer… at least not one that satisfied him. Zelda had asked a similar question all that time ago in Ordon and his answer had simply been "I broke", an answer that while honest merely called out the symptom, not the cause. From the day he'd dropped one princess back at the castle, having lost another, his life seemed ever diminishing; every option considered came back wanting; every calculation negative; every positive prospect suddenly seeming utterly implausible. Negativity had become an irrepressible habit.
There was, of course, Midna's departure to consider but he'd done so before and dismissed it. That pain had been neatly bundled away among the cobwebs and he had no problem with it…. absolutely none… and even if it did have some impact, it wasn't anywhere near enough to explain him falling apart like he had. Perhaps both Zelda and Rusl had been right in their points about lack of purpose but that still failed to encompass the full scope of the abyss into which he had fallen in those dark days.
Then with Zelda bursting back into his life and bringing him to the castle, his fortunes and his outlook had suddenly turned. Back in Ordon, he recalled describing his predicament to Rusl as being "lost and alone, drowning in an underwater cave with no escape". It hadn't quite been the miraculous escape he'd initial thought it would be but day by day; with a little of Zelda's magic influence and a lot of his own willpower, he'd crawled out of that dark and dismal hole. Slowly but surely, he saw his options, while not necessarily golden, at least appearing more plausible than hopeless; his calculations, while still tending towards the negatives, began to discover positives again. With each week at the castle, he'd taken another small step – imperceptible at the time – towards freedom from his cave. The masked man had knocked him a couple of steps back, yet it had motivated him to push on to the light, if for no other reason than to better equip him to aid and protect Zelda – his guide and, now, his tragically unrequited love.
Then just yesterday he thought he'd done it; he'd caught a glimpse of daylight and for all his bemoaning its brightness at the time, it had thrilled him. Now, with today's disaster, the cave was dragging him back to its depths with great shadowy claws. He didn't want to go back. He hated it! He feared it! Yet if the council won, such a fate seemed inevitable. Zelda had shown him the way out of the cave but she'd never taught him how to fight the ghosts which haunted it and sought to keep him there. Still, how could she teach him to fight ghosts that were likely of his own making.
"Sorry, Link? Shouldn't have pried." Shad's solemn voice roused him back to reality.
Vulnerability and unjust indignation held his tongue briefly, but simple honesty soon overcame such reticence. After all, the honest truth was that, there was nothing to be exposed when you don't understand it yourself. "Oh, no. It's alright. I just… don't know the answer."
Link suddenly realised just how fortunate it had been that he had nothing to reveal as his voice, while still little more than a whisper, was the most prominent at the table. Reefa's outburst, it seemed had brought the battle to a temporary halt, though it was obvious this was merely a lull rather than the end. The air was still thick with unexpressed anger and grievances just waiting to be unleashed. He just hoped that everyone's hesitancy in slinging their arrows was a sign that Zelda was winning. That was the problem with distractions: ignorance may provide a temporary bliss but it also brought fresh confusion and apprehension upon returning to the fray. He had no idea of the score, yet his gut told him what he'd missed was simply the prelude and ultimately irrelevant to the battle's conclusion.
Another bolt of lightning was building. Everyone could feel it. Even the outer tables seemed aware of it, Reefa's outburst having drawn their attention. Now many of the minor nobles were shooting regular glances towards the battlefield waiting for the next blow to fall.
That strike was postponed by a sudden flood of servants heralding the arrival of the main course. For a few merciful minutes the tension was dispersed as the combatants were distracted by a culinary display the likes of which Link had only experienced at his fateful private dinner with Zelda. Even then, the gastronomic spectacle he'd witnessed that day seemed positively restrained in both aesthetic flourish and sheer size, compared to the feast that was assembling before their very eyes. The centrepiece – quite literally – was a giant roasted boar, so huge it was wheeled in on a trolley which was parked in the centre of the 'U'. It must have been a mighty beast in life and it now made a mighty feast in death, earning many ravenous gazes and murmurs of admiration. So mighty was its power that it achieved the dual victory of holding war at bay and shielding Link from the unpleasant sight of several council members making pigs of themselves on the opposite table, courtesy of its monstrous mass. Unfortunately, it didn't hide him from Vanhorn's sickeningly self-satisfied visage that drove up his nerves. As the minutes dragged by to an orchestra of clinking cutlery, scraping porcelain and the occasional betwixt-bites remark, he found himself wishing for the battle to begin in earnest.
The orchestra kept clinking and slowly but surely, Lord Belmonte and co remerged from behind the steadily shrinking hunk of boar. As the boar shrank evermore from its former glory, the orchestra's tempo began to wane and with that, the cooling hunger for food was replaced with the seething thirst for battle once more.
Suddenly, the gangly and garish Lord Brookleaf rose from the table's far side "Ahem, so, will Her Highness not address the points raised by Lord Reefa, which, while not presented in the most proper manner me or my colleagues would wish, are nevertheless highly puissant points – as I'm surely all my esteemed compatriots would agree."
"Hear, hear!" came the cries of several of his compatriots, some banging glasses or cutlery to pronounce it, attracting stares from the outer tables. Halshaw wasn't among Brookleaf's supporting compatriots, but neither, far more worryingly was Vanhorn, simply keeping his unsettling smile between languid mouthfuls.
Brookleaf waited for the hubbub to dwindle and then finished with a mixture of unctuousness and pompousness. "Will you not address them or are we to take from your silence on the matter your implicit agreement?"
Zelda didn't answer with urgency, taking the time to finish her current morsel, set down her cutlery and finally dabbing her mouth clean with the delicate touch of a serviette; a convincing display of nonchalance to conceal the nerves and frustration Link could sense simmering inside her. It was hidden from her voice too when she finally replied, crisp, calm and yet clipped with restrained emotion. "Lord Brookleaf, you may take from my silence only that I grow tired of repeating myself. As you and all your compatriots are aware, these points are – as Lord Fairclough so eloquently put it – well-trodden ground, however if you really must insist then I will acquiesce and restate my verdicts – none of which have changed since we last hashed this out an hour ago but so be it. Firstly, with regards to the so-claimed "Gentlemen's agreement" Sir Tywin accuses Sir Link of making and subsequently breaking, there is no evidence of this beyond his word; no witnesses to this agreement; no signed document; no proof of condition stipulated; not even a blood seal – such of ancient customs. The very existence of this agreement becomes even more questionable considering Sir Tywin's refusal to divulge the terms of this deal which Sir Link is alleged to have broken. This agreement, if it ever even occurred was not, and is not, a legally binding contract; just a handshake made upon words spoken in a moment…"
"A handshake is still a promise." Brookleaf interjected.
Zelda eyed him coldly. "Maybe, but if so, I wonder how many have you broken, Lord Brookleaf?" She cast her frosty gaze around her council. "Indeed, if breaking a promise is such a crime as you seem intent on branding it – a crime worthy of potential dismissal from this court, no less – just how many of you here could sit at this table with clear consciences? I wonder? How many would deserve their seats here? Anyone? ..." There were private grumblings but no one answered or met her gaze.
"… Very well then, I take from your silence that we all agree that breaking a promise, while sometimes ignoble, is not a crime and, as such, this accusation can be dropped from proceedings."
"It may not be a crime but it proves Sir Link's dishonour and corroborates the other accusations."
"Only if true and the burden is on Sir Tywin to establish that; not Sir Link to disprove it."
"Yet you are the one insisting this is not a criminal matter, Your Highness. Therefore…"
"It may not be a criminal justice matter but it is a matter of justice nonetheless, the foundation of which is – and will always be – proof, and all Sir Tywin has produced thus far are baseless accusations and indecorous demands. Indeed, I would treat his charges as more credible if he had presented them as formal criminal charges, as opposed to his… appalling display."
"Your Highness! He'd just been punched. He had every right to…" Lord Belmonte, seemingly recovered from his earlier defeat, dived back into the fray but was skewered by her highness's sharp clipped tongue.
"Really Lord Belmonte?! We have been over this already but if I must reiterate; if the punch itself had been such a grievance, then his anger should have – and would have – been directed at the man who perpetrated it, not another whose sole connection to the incident is so flimsy as to be considered ludicrous. Point of fact, had he charged Sir Halshaw for such an assault, it would have lent some semblance of parity and validity to his grievances against Sir Link, as opposed to exposing his outrage at the assault as nothing but a convenient excuse to exercise his own prejudice against him."
Reefa gave a splutter of consternation. " .prejudice?! Sir Link disrespected him! Mistreated him! Set Blood Hornets on him!"
"Yet what evidence do we have of this? Only Sir Tywin's word which, by the last claim you stated has already been proven unreliable: none of the apparent victims of the so-claimed Blood Hornet attack received a single injury directly from the insects in question, indicating that they were not Blood Hornets at all but harmless Harlequin flies – a fact that even you conceded at the meeting, if I may remind you Lord Reefa."
The Lord muttered bitterly to himself but didn't rebuke her. Even so, his private musings under his breath were enough to have Link reaching for another green popper fruit. What that blaggard had just called the princess! The hero couldn't even stomach thinking it. "At least she'd managed to shut down another of his arguments" he thought, spitting out the pips with the bastard in his sights. Three green poppers remaining.
Zelda was still remarkably composed, despite the onslaught, which brought him some brief comfort, however it was quickly extinguished as his gaze passed across Vanhorn's sickening smile, seemingly broader than before. That was enough to make his stomach lurch but it was Zelda's next exchange that really gave his heart a nasty jump.
"… the only unreasonable behaviour between Sir Tywin and Sir Link has been…" she said but was interrupted by Brookleaf.
"But Sir Link drew…"
"Apart from Sir Link drawing his sword on Sir Tywin – which he was provoked into doing, as I will repeat… again…" Zelda's composure cracked with a sigh of exasperation. A sign of growing fatigue from hours of repetitive verbal jousting? Perhaps? Link couldn't suppress his worry for her but soon that was overtaken by another worry as she continued "… the only unreasonable behaviour which anyone here can attest to between them was entirely Sir Tywin's… unless any of you have any evidence to submit."
Reefa opened his mouth but the princess forestalled him. "Valid evidence… on which they are willing to swear upon their station and title" She snapped coldly.
Everyone exchanged glances. Most darted to-and-fro to see if any of their peers were willing to risk their titles on a tall tale. Link's eyes, however, shot to the one person who didn't need a tall tale for evidence; having just yesterday intervened in a certain altercation over apple juice. Lord Halshaw's lips remained a thin pursed line. On meeting the hero's stare, he merely scowled.
The man could sell him out, likely to great acclaim and reward from his peers. It was a ripe opportunity for social elevation among the council – a gift on a silver platter – and yet, for whatever reason, Halshaw wasn't taking it and, from what Link could read of him, he suffered no temptation to do so.
Suddenly a new voice, silky yet chilling, sent a shiver down Link's spine. The final – and most dreaded – opponent had entered the fray, oozing odious affability. "Lord Halshaw, do you not have anything you wish to offer?"
"No. Why would I?"
"Oh, just something I heard. Honestly, I would have thought you'd be more against Sir Link, particularly given the damage he has done to your career, not to mention your reputation."
"Save the insinuations, Vanhorn, if you've something to say, say it!" Halshaw glowered.
"All in good time." Vanhorn replied with a goading nonchalance, before casually switching his sights to Zelda. "Now, Your Highness. May I just say I perfectly understand – and deeply admire – your commitment to justice and seeing Sir Link treated fairly. Evidence is, as you have so eruditely reminded us, of vital importance to justice and I, unlike many of my fellow esteemed councillors…" This inspired audible angry hissing among his "fellow esteemed councillors", but Vanhorn carried on with nauseating geniality. "… I, for one, have found you make a most compelling case against Sir Tywin's accusations and you have persuaded me of many being, at the very least, exaggerated, if not outright false. I congratulate you, Your Highness."
Throughout his slimy speech, Link had been disturbed by the sensation of something crawling down his back – something evil and grotesque – and glancing across at Zelda, he couldn't help feeling she'd suffered a similar Sensation.
"Lord Vanhorn? You spoke so little in our meetings one might have mistaken you for being absent. I would hate to think that you have returned simply to damn me with feigned praise."
"Oooohhh, Your Highness, it is absolutely sincere, I assure you. Most engaging and inciteful, however as much as I admire your zeal for such matters, I fear they have distracted us from the essential issue. Regardless of the validity of Sir Tywin's various accusations against Sir Link, the fact remains that Sir Link did draw his blade on Sir Tywin – not just a distinguished foreign dignitary but a duke of royal heritage and one of your suitors no less. Irrespective of provocation or justification, this is a very serious transgression with grave ramifications which Sir Tywin, as the wronged party, has the prerogative to dictate… and he has. Simple terms; either Sir Link is dismissed from his service and bidden to never again enter the capital or Landringall cuts all ties – military, diplomatic and economic – with the threat of war."
The reminder of the sheer magnitude of the stakes was a blow to Link's heart and hope. Anger, impotent yet insistent, had his hand hovering over a green popper, however intuition held it back, heeding him to ration, for worse was to come – he was sure of it. But how much could he let the anger build? The warning signs had already started. He could feel the first tingles of adrenaline in his fingertips and his senses were sharpening – enough to hear his princess's heartrate beginning to climb.
Despite this, Zelda maintained her appearance of unshakable… near-unshakable composure as she swiftly reposted Vanhorn's first true strike. "So Sir Tywin has proclaimed, yet his word – in a moment of anger – does not constitute any form of formal declaration and, contrary to your argument, he alone does not possess the power to dictate the terms of penalty. Those must be ratified with his political advisers and his father, all of whom will be anxious to avoid war – they are seeking a military alliance for their protection, after all – so I think the threat of war need not concern us. As for…"
"What about the threat of poverty? Should that not concern us?!..." Barked lord Reefa, again rising to his feet with a slam of his fist on the table. The thrum of the outer tables silenced instantly followed by the creak of chairs and necks as a hundred heads craned round to fix on the alarming commotion.
Zelda's eyes narrowed, cracking her mask and restrained emotion hissed out through gritted teeth. "Rest assured, Lord Reefa, the likes of you will never know the meaning of impoverishment, so need not fear it. If, however, the plight of the poor concerns you so, perhaps you would consider donating some more of your considerable wealth…"
"It was donating our wealth that got us in this mess!"
"Really?" Whether by permission or by force, Zelda's ire finally passed unimpeded from her lips. "I hope you are not suggesting you would rather the kingdom remained in ruins, simply to preserve the full extent of your wealth."
"I would rather that you did your damned…"
Link's hand twitched for his fruit as his stomach gave a growl, but Fairclough expressed his outrage for him. "Lord Reefa! Control yourself and show the appropriate respect to Her Highness…"
"Save it Fairclapped! I'm not fin…"
"…or I will see you banned; not just from my hall; not just from my house; but from the entire province and you will be forced to start your journey back to Hyrule Castle… immediately!"
Reefa Looked like he was about to ignore the warning when he was seized roughly by the shoulder and yanked down into his seat by Vanhorn, who for the first time that evening, had lost his smile. "Sit down you fool!" He hissed irascibly, before adding in a conspiratorial whisper "… We've set the ball rolling. Now we need to leave it be and see how far it gets before more pressure is needed."
Link had just caught the line through the general hubbub and it certainly sounded ominous, though not as ominous as the smile Vanhorn gave on noticing Link's gaze. What exactly was the ball? What was their game? Damn it! He couldn't even warn Zelda – even if she hadn't been occupied thanking her surrogate father for his timely intervention.
If the ball was the current topic of conversation, it seemed Brookleaf wanted to keep it rolling. He cleared his throat loudly for attention, however there was a reluctance there. "I believe the point Lord Reefa was trying to make, ahem, Your Highness – and, um… I think we all agree its manner was inappropriate… Ahem, however what he was and, um, what I am trying to say is that… um, ahem, well…" The garishly dressed man looked to his comrades almost pleadingly for a saviour to his complete lack of anything to say, reminding Link of Zelda's apt description of him: a man of flamboyantly independent style to compensate for his lack of independent thought. Judging by his constant collective statements it would seem she was right.
Belmonte rolled his eyes and begrudgingly bailed him out. "Your Highness, what the esteemed Lords Reefa and Brookleaf were trying to say, which I believe the whole council is in agreement with is that we donated not-so-insignificant portions of our wealth to the rebuilding of Hyrule in good faith and feel this good faith has yet to be adequately rewarded…"
"Hmph. More like not at all." Came a sullen mutter from someone down the table.
"… The deal – and this was a deal which we all agreed on and signed: a legal contract with terms – was that; in exchange for our immediate investment, Your Highness and the royal treasury would prioritise bolstering the economy, by all means at your disposal, so that we may recoup our hard-earned investments – and with what we hoped would be considerable interest."
"Yes, neither your contributions nor our agreement have been in any way forgotten…"
The sullen voice down the table decided to raise itself in challenge. "Oh? Then might a humble councillor ask why Your Highness has seen fit to ignore or undermine this arrangement at every conceivable opportunity? Not least, throwing away our best hopes at trade deals for your pet hero!"
"Lord Bastaphorne, you forget your place, or did you think my warning was reserved only for…"
Fairclough's defence was halted by a look from Zelda and a regal wave of her hand, her mask of composure seemingly restored. "Now, now, Lord Fairclough. I appreciate greatly your attentiveness as my host but I can also understand this council's frustration… even if it is misguided and..."
"Misguided?!" Link may not have been able to see Lord Bastaphorne's face – being obscured by his fellow councillors at the table's end – but he could almost hear its contortion of his face at its utterance. "Are you honestly trying to tell us, your highness, that you believe yourself to have done everything in your power to see our deal fulfilled? That you have prioritised our economy and taken every action available to you to bolster it?"
"Every action within reason, yes."
"Within reason? Ha! What reason?"
"The future of Hyrule, Lord Bastaphorne."
"The future of Hyrule?! So it was for the future of Hyrule that you…" The irate Lord launched into a list of every "questionable" decision, bill or proclamation that Zelda had made since the end of the twilight invasion – many of which, according to him, she'd tricked or inveigled past the council's adamant and unanimous disapproval. Link didn't fully understand the charges; the majority were as seemingly trivial and insignificant as a single supplanted word in a bill or one added clause to a policy and yet, according to Bastaphorne, each represented a betrayal of Zelda's agreement, or as the Lord emphatically put it "yet another brutal constriction of the channels of commerce". Zelda curtly contested each one, as calmly as her now exhausted composure could manage but it did little good; being met with morose muttering and dismissive shakes of heads. The display oozed a patronising superiority that had Link's hand itching for the third of the Green Poppers. The only thing which restrained it was intuition telling him the list of "crimes" had barely began. Intuition was right.
What followed was, surely, a recital of the entire recent history – debated and with questionable interpretations – of Zelda's fabled war against the council. Her many victories, while small in nature, were astonishing for their sheer numbers. In other circumstances, Link's heart might have swelled with pride for her achievements, but not in this oppressive atmosphere; and with her defences being discarded with such distain it was difficult to say whether they would remain victories or become a noose; either for a princess's independence or a hero's career. It appeared, for the moment at least, that the noose would be for the former; Link's crimes having seemingly fallen by the wayside. This however brought Link no comfort at all; if anything, making him more restless as every heroic fibre in his body screamed at him to mount a rescue. But he could do nothing! He was powerless to halt Bastaphorne's relentless assault.
What was worse, the assault seemed to be intensifying. Bastaphorne's charges were soon boosted by hums and clamours of approval from their peers – who increasingly contributed claims of their own. It was a few points in that Link realised these calls of agreement were no longer isolated to the central tables, with the lesser nobles of the outer tables now lending their voices – 'raising arms' against the princess!
Having "gotten the ball rolling" Reefa had settled for an encouraging cheer for his peers. As the momentum began to wane, he jumped back in "And now, just when you've forced through this indulgence of a "Twilight commemoration" – which, as we warned you, will inevitably lead to further crippling economic upheaval – you decide to throw away the trade deals vital to footing the bill, all for the sake of protecting one man's career! Was Lord Halshaw right all along. Are the rumours true? Did Sir Link offer more than just a good night's sleep at his treehouse? Perhaps a little horizontal refreshm..."
"Another word in such a manner, Lord Reefa…" Lord Fairclough warned. So too did Vanhorn with a tap on the shoulder and a whisper. "Ease up, we're not there yet." Reefa followed his master's orders and fell silent.
Bastaphorne picked up where he'd stopped. "Well, if not for some inappropriate fondness for this man, how can you explain the disproportionate degree of favour you bestow upon him, Your Highness?"
"Disproportionate? May I remind you that Sir Link saved the kingdom; not that most of you would have noticed if he had not, given your choices to flee to friend's and family's hospitality in other kingdoms rather than offer any assistance of your own to such an endeavour."
"Well, with all you've told us, Your Highness, our meagre help would have counted for little more than fresh cannon fodder, so..."
"You could not have known that when you fled… unless you knew all about the invasion even then, which would only be possible if…"
"Now who's insinuating slanderous rumours!?" Lord Belmonte interjected hotly only to be interrupted in turn by Vanhorn's cool slimy ooze. "Gentlemen, please, are we not moving from the Bastaphorne's point." He slipped Zelda a goading eye. "While I can understand Her Highness's frustration – albeit misguided – with our prudence during the invasion, it is nevertheless an irrelevant distraction to the topic at hand, namely how much favour has saving the kingdom earned the "venerable" Sir Link and just how many crimes is he allowed to commit before his favour expires?..."
"Hear, hear!"
"… Or is he immune from prosecution?..."
"Hear, hear!"
Vanhorn continued, relentlessly firing inflammatory questions to ignited the ever-growing crowd. Zelda fought to keep her composure but even she could only take so much. five hours of battle, it seemed were finally breaking her. "Enough!" She snapped "Enough! I've already repeated myself more than enough so listen carefully for I won't repeat myself again. Sir Link's actions against Sir Tywin were serious and he will face consequences for them! They were however also provoked and, I've no doubt in saying, intended for my protection…"
"Bah!"
"Silence! Ahem, For those reasons – yes, and his outstanding services to the kingdom – I refuse to condemn him, simply to…"
"Condemn!" Belmonte snorted. "He's not being hanged! nor imprisoned! He's losing his job; a job to which he is clearly unsuited…"
"Not to mention, undeserving." cut in Bastaphorne.
"… as proven by this incident and many others that I'm sure have yet…"
"Enough!" Zelda slammed down her cutlery and rose from her seat, eyes blazing.
"Enough!" She shrieked again and the hall froze, looks of horror, dismay or disgust plastering ever face. She blinked and then the mania fell from her eyes, taking with it all the colour of her face.
Link's heart was pounding; his stomach in his boots. Even through his shock, he understood; Zelda's snap, no matter how justified, was devastating; Understandable… but disastrous nonetheless! She had broken the code of the court; she had committed the grave sins of impropriety and showing emotion – no matter how justified it was. He could practically hear the noblemen's internal sneers on Zelda's "feminine sensitivities". Link bristled but his primary concern was his princess, who was still shaking as she slumped heavily back into her chair, clearly all too aware of her mortal error. Her image; her authority; her credibility… all damaged by that single deserved outburst. She'd revealed her vulnerability…
And like any predatory creature, Vanhorn saw his chance to pounce. Twirling a teaspoon blithely in his fingers, he mocked her with feigning obliviousness and oozed with nauseating geniality. "So, am I to gather, Your Highness, that you intend to dictate Sir Link's punishment yourself?"
Zelda, clearly off balance, struggled to regain her composure. "Yes" she clipped.
"All by yourself?" He responded immediately
"Yes"
"So, calling upon code fourteen of the royal…"
"Yes" She shot back quicker.
"Employing article nineteen?"
"Yes!" quicker still
"So, just like his last punishment?"
"Yes!..." the word escaped her lips red hot, but within seconds her face had paled from realisation; the same realisation that sent Link's stomach plummeting to his boots. Vanhorn's blackmail threat!
The snake bared his fangs in a grin, silver eyes glinting. His trap had worked.
Zelda attempted to retract "… of course, this situation being far more serious, it will require far more serious repercussions."
"Oh, of course, your highness…" Vanhorn oozed, revelling in his new found power over her. "… and no doubt you will apply the same measured impartial approach to this sentence as his last, however while it is said punishment can be a means of "teaching a lesson", some may disagree with just what lessons count." Neither Link nor Zelda could miss such a thinly veiled allusion to their secret meetings. "Suppose…" Vanhorn continued affably "and I'm speaking purely hypothetically of course, Your Highness, that someone was to investigate these "lessons" and find them… inadequate? Inappropriate? Disapprove of them?"
The cornered princess put on a brave front and, to the casual observer, she'd have appeared to have recovered but Link's keen ears could hear her heart beat which told a different story. "Well, I am sure that if you were the one to oversee such an investigation, no matter what I did, the results would be guaranteed to meet your disapproval."
"Hmhm, very droll, your highness. However, one should not joke about such things. Such investigations have a habit of revealing all sorts of interest and sometimes uncomfortable facts." Vanhorn's grin grew, though most would not have noticed as their attention was already on the princess, awaiting her response with baited breath. For a moment, the entire hall was still and silent, the only movement being Vanhorn's silver spoon still spinning incessantly.
Zelda has hesitant but Link knew she had to respond and quickly if she was to contain Vanhorn's obvious insinuations. The longer she held her tongue the more credibility it left them. She clearly knew this too.
She opened her mouth but it wasn't her voice that answered. "That's quite True, Lord Van'orn. Investigations can uncover all sorts of interestin' things and I speak from experience."
Vanhorn's face stayed fixed towards Zelda. Only his silver eyes snapped to the interrupter, none other than the newly promoted grand general Alfonzo. There was pregnant pause as he regarded the general in silence. The whole room watched expectantly but none more intently than Link. The snake's reaction? What did it say?
The lips remained smiling but the eyes… narrowed.
Wary?
Angry?
Afraid?
Then Link saw it; Vanhorn's spoon had faltered… momentarily but it was enough to convince him of one thing; Alfonzo's veiled threat had shaken the nobleman. So, Alfonzo did have some serious dirt on the man… or at least Vanhorn thought he did. The question was; was it true or had Alfonzo merely joined Zelda's bluff?
Finally, Vanhorn gave his reply, an airy chuckle. "Hmhmhm, very true, General, very true…" His gaze finally turned back to Zelda. "Oh well, it was a tangentially related concern for your highness, but perhaps one best kept… for another time."
Zelda appeared to suppress a derisive scoff as she scowled back at him, still struggling to repair her tattered composure. "For once, Vanhorn, I actually agree with you. This debate has long since outstayed it's welcome and I have indulged it long enough…" she passed her scowl across the whole council. "Too long in fact as it has spoilt what would have otherwise been a delightful feast. Ahem…" She cleared her throat and summoned all the composure and authority she could muster. "We will resume this discussion tomorrow, so we may approach it with something close to sobriety and civility."
"But…"
"Now, wait just o…"
"No buts, Lord Bastaphorn!" Zelda snapped sharply; authority teetering on outrage.
The nobles fell into sullen grumbling, scowling at her highness but making no further open protests. Link let out a sigh of relief. His heart was pounding and so was his head… but he'd made it. They'd made it! He looked to his princess. She was still shaken… still uneasy. After all she'd weathered, he couldn't blame her but… a thought nagged him. If she could have called an end to it at any time, why had she held off till now?
And why was his stomach more restless than ever?
Then he looked up and saw it; the twirling spoon, the sickening smile broadening to new lengths.
And then he realised. Zelda had played her last card.
Vanhorn still had plenty to play.
"Your Highness, some clarification, if I may…"