Chapter 49: Farewell to a Dream

"Finally!" Makeela urged her horse forward, her wild cackle filled the night air. "We're finally off that stupid mountain!"

"Quiet." Bethe said from Gan's side. "Quiet!" louder than Makeela's laugh had been.

Ganondorf smiled and shook his head to himself as he watched his guard charge past the sign that indicated where the mountain officially began. Though, to his eyes the marker did not really seem to have much meaning. The ground was still not quite level, still sloping down away from the mountain. Just as it had been the last mile and as it likely would continue to be for quite a few miles more.

Who was it that decided that this was where the mountain started? Some long dead cartographer? Perhaps that old Goron Chief Darunia claimed was his ancestor marked the spot and no one was strong enough to argue with him. He had slain a dragon after all.

Still, it was good to give soldiers something to celebrate. Victories were of course the best, with good loot and pillage not far behind. But the simple pleasure of knowing that you were making progress would do, if needs be. A few of the others rode out after Makeela with their own calls of joy.

"Fools," Bethe muttered.

"Let them be, Bethe," Gan said.

"This is supposed to be a secret meeting. And they are supposed to be protecting their king," she shook her head again. "You are too lenient with them."

While it was true he and his six companions left the Gerudo camp in secret, that was several miles ago. Now, it was too dark for any riders to be traveling by the road, and the nearest village was too far away to hear a little celebration. "You take things too seriously, Bethe. No one even-" Gan's mouth stretched wide into a yawn. "-even knows we're here."

"Are you tired my king?"

"When aren't I?"

"Hmm," she nodded. "It seems worse these days. You have been sluggish. All of us see it. Is it some new plan? I- I do not wish to impose."

"Bethe, we've fought and bled together for years. You're not imposing." Gan tried to stifle another yawn, but there are some battles that even he could not win. "It's nothing, just some foul dreams."

"My mother used to say that foul dreams were caused by drinking foul water. We should have your cooks scourged for preparing your food and drink wrong."

"I don't think that will be necessary. Thank you, though, sister." The two rode in silence past the sign and reached the rest of his guard, milling about and patting each other on the backs all for getting back on the gassy plains that they and their horses much preferred. From there they turned away from the road and traveled West. Without further distraction, Ganondorf tried to plan how he would speak, what he would say. But his mind kept wandering to his dreams. Memories of old knights that tried to kill him, and Sheikah Needles that tried to assassinate him.

All those who would come for him, if they only knew what he had been planning. If they knew how close he had come to victory. They would not forgive him. To them he would always be the vile Gerudo, the King of Thieves, the murderer of their beloved queen.

And how can I blame them for their hate? After all, I still despise them.

It did not take much longer until the scent of the lizards reached him. They had gathered not far from where a pack of Lizalfos once tried to ambush unwary travelers.

Though they were far from any village or the road that Gan had little fear of anyone stumbling upon the meeting. Nevertheless he took his precautions. Perhaps it was the uneasiness caused by those dreams, but as he entered the small crevice among the stones and saw those he was to meet, he whispered a spell to ward away all but the most powerful of prying eyes.

The magic would not last for long, not without etching the words in stone and solidifying the wards with power, but he doubted the meeting would last longer than an hour.

"He has come," came one of the slithering voices of the lizards on watch.

"As I said he would," One-Arm stepped before Ganondorf and then prostrated himself on the ground. Only the lizards could bow so low their bellies rubbed the dirt. "Master."

The other lizards followed his example, though some seemed more reluctant than others. As he expected, there was a reason he did not attend this meeting alone. There were twenty lizards in all, but none of them Dodongo. Perhaps they were too large and loud to attend a secret meeting. Or perhaps there were none left after the last battle at all. Lizalfos could sneak away in retreat, but the massive Dodongo? When the battle turned against them, where could the massive beasts go, but against the spears?

Gan did his best to look imperious, just as his mothers taught him. Letting the anger that he felt bleed out of his eyes. These were the creatures that betrayed him. Betrayal must be handled with a harsh hand. "And can this assembly speak for all those who came to the mountain under my command?"

"Almost all," One-Arm hissed. "Some fled after the battle. Disappeared-"

"Then you have not followed my instructions. I ordered all survivors send someone to me."

One-Arm glanced around him, his dead eyes betraying some hint of fear. "We did the best we could, under the circumstances."

"The best?" Ganondorf sneered. Beneath him, Storm pawed at the ground and gave an angry sounding snort. Perfect to emphasize Ganondorf's tone, by the Goddesses he had the greatest horse in all the world. "You call this mess your best? I had a plan. I gave orders. And you cowards, who crawl in the dirt like filthy animals could not be trusted to perform the simplest task. I offered you glory and purpose, and you sought my death."

Magic flooded into his arm, setting it ablaze with witch-fire. "Tell me, why you should not be punished with the same treatment?"

"Because it was not us," One-Arm glanced up. "It was King Dodongo, it was all King Dodongo. He is to be blamed, he is to be punished."

"Not only him," Gan said. "He gave the order, but each of you followed him. Each of you attacked my army."

The lizards did not move, perhaps they were too frightened to respond. Good.

"It seems to me, that I have given you too much freedom. I allowed you to still follow your old leaders and group yourself in your old clans. No more. Now, I will place someone in charge, and you will treat them as if they speak with my voice." Gan looked down to One-Arm. "Stand up."

The Lizalfos' tongue flickered out, as he slowly realized what was about to happen. It reeled itself back onto its legs and stared at Ganondorf.

"Of all your people, you are the one that stayed loyal to me." More that he played both sides to come out on top. Still, these creatures must see that loyalty will be rewarded as betrayal is punished. "In the days to come, he will be my mouthpiece."

"Him?" came a voice from the back of the crowd. "Sithruss is weak. Sithruss is broken. Why should we follow those to shattered to lead?"

"Who spoke?" Ganondord roared. "Which of you dared to question me?"

One of the lizards pushed himself up. He was large, almost as tall as Ganondorf, and wider around the shoulders.

"I did not tell you to stand," Ganondorf said.

The lizard froze, still half crouched. It seemed to decide something, and rose to its full height, its jaw set and it met Ganondorf's eyes. "He is weak," the lizard hissed. "Lizalfos follow the strong, that is the way of things."

The were some hisses from among the creatures, that sounded like something of an agreement among them. Of course, that's how these beasts would behave. Follow power is the way of things. But, power is not just physical strength, and these were too primitive to see the difference. It took only a look at One-Arm to see how the monsters treated their wounded. When Ganondorf held him captive he had been thin, but now he looked near a skeleton. How many wounded lizards did he step over on the battlefield of the Crown? All abandoned by their people, discarded as if they meant nothing.

It made sense, in a sick way. They were wounded, they were weak. They were no longer important.

That would need to change.

Ganondorf nudged Storm forward until he reached the lizard that spoke. "Tell me," he said as he slid off his mount. "Do you feel strong?"

The lizard's tongue flickered out, nearly reaching Ganondorf's face, before it snapped back into his mouth. "I am strong. I lead my clutch."

Ganondorf placed his hand on the top of the lizard's scaly head. "I wonder, is your skin tougher than the Thrice-Cursed? Is your might greater than King Dodongo?"

The lizard's wide dead looking eyes flickered between Ganondorf's face and trying to catch a glimpse of the fingers placed on his head. Slowly, one clawed hand raised. Did it truly think to challenge him?

"Well?"

Just as slowly the claw lowered, then the lizard's head bowed. After a moment its whole body slumped just as low as all the others.

"Remember this," he looked out to all the gathered lizards. "If any of you should question my judgment again, or the words of my chosen vassal, remember who is strongest. Remember every day I allow you to breathe is a mercy. And he-" he gestured toward One-Arm, "is the only one of you clever enough to understand that without me needing to point it out for you!" He spat out the words, letting them hear the anger and hatred in his voice. If wrath was all these creatures respected then let them fear his. He remounted Storm, and held himself high. "So, I will make this so clear even you lot will understand. Your part in this war is over. There will be no more raiding upon the people of the mountain and these valleys. You are free to take food as you can, but you are not to engage the Gorons or the Hylian villages. Defend yourself if necessary, but we must make the Hylians believe that you are utterly defeated."

"Understood, King Dragmire," One-Arm said. "But, where shall we go?"

"Return to your lands."

"Then, all this," another of the lizards hissed, "was for nothing?"

"I promised you glory, and full bellies if you followed my orders. And you broke those commands. You would all deserve if this was for nothing. But no, I am still merciful. Return to your homes and ready yourself for my next command. King Dodongo's arrogance has cost us this battlefield, but there will be others. Perhaps this time, you will prove yourself worthy of my generosity."

"Yes, my king," One-Arm said. "We will be ready." Then he hissed something in the Lizalfos slithering tongue.

"Yes, my king," the other lizards echoed him. "Yes, my king. Yes, my king."

The first rays of the morning sun spilled over the barricade walls of the camp. A bit later an arrival than Gan hoped, but, it couldn't be helped. After all was sorted with the lizards they had made good time to return. Most of his guard had been far less enthusiastic with the prospect of climbing back up the mountains than they had been leaving them. But by day's end the army would be off this rock once and for all. And then on to the Zora where hopefully he would quench another of the fires he caused.

So many problems yet to solve. Octorok and Moblins still remained. And unlike the Lizalfos and Dodongo, they had not suffered a great defeat. It would be more difficult to convince them to leave, most likely.

And even if he succeeded, how to explain their retreat to the world? Would people be able to believe that they would all simply abandon this war? The Octorok may swim away with the tides, but the Moblins? By the sound of things they had actually captured some territory to the East. When had Moblins ever given back something they had taken through force?

And even if he somehow got all of that to work itself out, how long would they wait before they decide to fight again? He had organized them, he had arranged them in armies to fight on a scale they never had before. Would that be lost without his guidance? Or had he simply made an enemy greater than they ever had been before?

If the Lizalfos or the Moblins attempt to invade again without him, would it be as easy to defeat them as it had been for the last several centuries, or did they now have the knowledge to be truly dangerous? It would be death, worst of all, pointless death. Some may be sacrificed for a better world, but, sacrificed for nothing? Even his mothers would balk at that.

The thought pounded on his head like a Goron's hammer. But was it because he truly did not wish this violence, or because he knew that dark part of him reveled at the thought?

When they reached the camp entrance, he found the gate opened. A wagon filled with barrels and boxes on the path. Nabooru stood beside the wagon, speaking to whoever drove it. She caught glimpse of him, turned and waved.

A redhaired vai popped her head out from the side of the wagon. "By the sands" She called in Gerudo. "Is that the king?" The head disappeared back behind the wooden frame, a moment later the two horses leading the wagon moved to the side to let him and his guard pass.

"Nabs," Gan approached her. "I did not think you'd be awake this early."

"I didn't mean to be," she said, glancing back toward the wagon. "But I was woke by our sentries when this one showed up."

"King Dragmire!" the merchant stood and waved from her perch. Then she gave a sloppy bow before straightening back up. "King Dramire! It is an honor to see you, and all your warriors! Nabooru the Fearless! Bethmasse the Dread Spear! Makeela the Summer Sun! What are you doing so early?"

"Scouting," Bethe hissed in a voice that made it clear there would be no further answers to that line of questioning.

"Sister," Gan gave her a polite nod before looking back to Nabs. "She showed up this morning?"

"Yes, just before you. She had to be traveling through the night to get here."

"In lands that are known to be covered with Lizalfos? She's either a fool or…" Gan glanced back to the merchant. She looked a Gerudo as she waved to the others in his party.

"Here!" the merchant called as she dived into the back of her wagon and came back out holding up a barrel. "For the greatest warriors under the sun!" She pulled the top of the barrel open.

Tagoma, the newest member of his personal guard moved closest to wagon and sniffed. "Is that-"

"Yes!" the merchant called. "Salted sand-seal! Fermented rushroom! Spiced mulduga fin! All straight from our home."

Tagoma glanced back to Gan as if asking for permission to buy from a merchant. But before he could nod his approval Makeela had already rode past her. "How much for the Mulduga fin? I couldn't find any good ones last time I visited the Oasis. It's been near a year since I've had it."

"For heroes like you? The first fin is free!"

A small cheer came up from his guard. Gan rode away from them, beckoning for Nabs to keep with him. In the safety of the camp, what need did he have for guards? He waved to an old Hylian man who had joined the army some months ago and taken a place at the stables. "Here," he said as he dismounted and passed off Storm's reins. "See him well fed."

"Of course, sir," the voe said with a bow.

He waited until the groom was well away before he turned back to Nabs. "You checked her supply?"

"Of course, and I found nothing," Nabs glanced back toward the merchant. "She's light-skinned for a Gerudo, but I've seen lighter. Nothing seemed hidden in her wares, and she speaks our tongue like she was born to it."

"Hmm, perhaps she is just a lucky fool. Keep eye on her, regardless."

"Already sent a message to Desquesza about her. Now, tell me, how'd it go?"

"About as well as you'd expect. They will leave the mountain and return to their homes. You were right, by the way, telling them to await my call for their next move worked well. Made them feel that it was not truly over, without much in the way of argument."

"Without much, eh? So there was some?"

"Of course, but it was nothing a few well placed threats couldn't put an end to."

"Good," she nodded, her serious expression broke into a wild smile. Her arm wrapped around Gan's own and she pressed her head to his side. "Thank you."

"I gave you my word. If my plan failed, it would be over."

"Still, thank you. This is good, trust me. We can make this work."

"Under the service of Hylians," Gan shook his head. "And that fool of a king."

"I know, and it must hurt for you. You don't always show it, but I can tell kneeling before him hurts your pride. But it will be worth it. For peace."

But for how long? A peace that only lasts our lifetime is no peace at all. The problems have not changed, when war starts again the Gerudo will be doomed. And there's nothing we can do to change that.

"No need to be sullen about it."

"I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but I can tell you're thinking it." She laughed as she pulled away from him. "Come on," she took his hand. "How long since you had some well cooked sand-seal?"

"Too long, sister."

The following day, the army marched across the plains of Hyrule. Ganondorf sat upon Storm half paying attention to Dessi and Nabs as they rode beside him. Their conversation was largely pointless, speculation on whether the warm weather would hold up for the following weeks. How one of the storm-searchers was predicting rain by the end of the day and how that would slow the lines down.

While they spoke, Gan looked over his army. In most ways, it looked as it had always looked. Gerudo warriors astride their horses, or marching in rows, using their spears as walking sticks. Servants and camp followers scrambling between them, bringing water or making idle conversation.

And yet, it was in other ways different. When an army marches, they will inevitably pick up stragglers along the way. But, never in his life had he seen so diverse a people moving with him. A Goron had apparently decided to join with the army and rolled alongside, its weapons and armor rattling as it moved. Pale faces of Hylian voe and vai were speckled throughout.

No army had ever looked like this, not in the history of the world.

"Hey," Nabs prodded him, in the side. "What do you think?"

"Hmm?" Gan said.

Dessi chuckled and shook her head.

"The rain, lummox," Nabs said. "Do you think we break camp early?"

"Oh," Gan only began to notice the few drops that splattered onto his hair and clothes. "Sorry, I was thinking of something else."

"Trust me, I could tell," Nabs said. "But I'm not going to stop the army without your say so."

Gan looked around them. He recognized this spot of road. He had stopped here and wasted a great deal of time refusing to break camp from this spot. He looked to the side, only a few miles away lay a small hill, and inside that hill a treasure that he had once thought was key to his ascension.

STOP HERE. YOU CAN STILL TAKE IT.

"No," Gan said. "It's only drizzle. We can make a few more miles before nightfall."

Author's Note: Well, that's a full year or writing done. I've written a lot, though in truth I had hoped I would have gotten a bit farther by now. An update, you may have noticed by rate of writing has slowed down a lot these last several months. Sadly, it couldn't be helped due to personal life matters. Thankfully, those are coming to a close. It's not qiute done yet, but soon I hope to be writing at my old pace. Thank you all who have been reading this for a year. I hope you continue to enjoy it going onto the next.