Chapter 64: A City Unprotected
"No. That is ridiculous," Nabooru tried her best to keep the mockery from her laugh, but some things are beyond even her skill. "King Yesasorn won the battle of Castle Town, of course he was the better general."
"Victory in battle is not the only variable here," Jora said. "Tactically, yes, Yesasorn was superior. But after he burned down half of Castle Town was he able to hold it? No." He punctuated the point with a chop of one of his hands against the other, making his gauntlets rattle. "He was driven out."
"But not by Old King Heralt. He was dead."
"But it was Heralt's plan."
"Oh right. Brilliant plan there, to get killed watching your home burn around you."
"Don't belittle a hero," and for a moment a note of true annoyance flitted through Jora's voice, and by the sands somehow that just made him seem more passionate and exciting. "He had already evacuated the city. He drew Yasasorn into being cut off from his reinforcements. And once Count Tolomir's hammer drew close Yasasorn was forced to retreat. Heralt's plan, not executed perfectly, but it did send the Gerudo army back to the desert."
"Maybe I'd agree with you, if Tolomir actually succeeded in destroying the Gerudo force, but he only managed to break the rearguard. Yasasorn got away and invaded again two years later."
"But he never again made it to Castle Town."
"Why would he want to? It was rubble!"
There was a small cough behind them, they turned to see a child of perhaps fourteen, with simple comfortable looking clothes bearing the colors of purple and yellow in a checkerboard pattern. The sign of some noble house no doubt, but one of the servants. "I'm sorry," he whispered, in a voice that indicated absolute fear, "but, that is, I mean to say. Perhaps-"
"Out with it, voe."
He gulped.
"You're scaring the poor boy," Jora nudged her. "Don't worry about Lady Nabooru, whatever you've heard of her, I guarantee you it's not accurate."
"That's right, in person I'm much worse." And she bared her teeth at the kid, making him step back and gulp.
Jora rolled his eyes. "You're a child. Alan, what's the message?"
"It's only," the boy tried to start again. "I was told, by the Master of Ceremonies, if I could maybe get the two of you to quiet down a little. Your voices can be heard outside."
"Hah!"
"Inform Lord Dormier that we apologize, and we shall be quieter."
"Thank you, sir, my lady," the little boy bowed to them before scurrying away.
"Alan, eh? Tell me true, how do you keep the names of everyone in this city straight? There are so many of them."
"I wish I had that talent. No, Alan is Lord Dormier's cupbearer. I met with him to secure the funds for this little venture," he waved at the building and the gathering of nobles and servants crowded within.
They were not at the castle. The king was going to make a speech, and for some reason that required half of his court to follow him into the city. A boring affair, truly, and one that she would not have gone to without Bulira's prodding. Though Nabooru was glad she did, since she had arrived at the castle she had only left her mother's side for those tedious war council meetings and the occasional dinner she could not get away from. She had barely a moment to spend time with Sir Jora, and he could always make her forget about the troubles with Bulira, even for just a beautiful moment.
"I guess we need to be quiet," Jora said.
"Loud, quiet, you're still wrong."
Jora squinted at her in mock rage before they both broke into a smile. "You're lucky you're pretty."
"And you're lucky to have me." She wrapped her arm around his shoulders.
Jora opened his mouth to make some retort before Nabooru sealed it with a kiss. Giving a fair few disapproving looks and grunts from the prudish nobles nearby. When they broke apart, Jora turned his head immediately to quickly look about the area as he had done periodically through their entire conversation.
"It's fine," Nabooru said. "She's right over there." She nodded toward the princess, standing in one of the corners speaking to Duke Arlan's nephew. Durrell, wasn't that his name? She should know that one at least. Of all the members of the war council the little voe was the only one besides Jora who didn't annoy her. Every ambassador all seemed to be practicing their petty little politics, and the king and princess always felt as though they were forcing everyone to sit idly and watch their family squabbles. But Durrell just seemed to want to help people.
"Well, that's good to see," Jora whispered.
"You think she's sweet talking him?"
Jora scoffed. "I doubt it. During the next meeting, when Durrell goes to read his uncle's reports watch Zelda, she looks like she's trying not to scream every time he misreads a word. But she mentioned that she behaved rudely to him and wished to make amends. Maybe that's what's happening here."
"The little terror's trying to be nice, is she?"
"She's not a terror. But yes, 'a good queen must win the love of her subjects' she's told me three times now."
"And how's she doing winning that love?"
"Eh," Jora shrugged, though it was clear just looking at the two children just how uncomfortable Durrell looked in their conversation. The poor voe fidgeted like a fresh spearhand right before her first battle. Whatever Zelda was saying sure wasn't making him love her. "She's still young. The important part is that she knows what she needs to do and is trying to do it."
"I'll admit there's something to admire in that."
"I just wish she practiced her apologizing on others." Jora gave a knowing glance to the king. "Someone I know would be more receptive."
Little chance of that. Every interaction Nabs had witnessed between the princess and the king was so cold and cordial they were near painful.
"Lords and ladies," Lord Dormier, a short fat bald man in an elaborate outfit of layered colors and furs waved everyone's attention. "It is about time. Please take your positions."
"Pity," Nabs said. "Speak after?"
"Of course." He took his position at the front of the procession, along with the other great knights and guards of the royal family and the more prominent members of court. After the clanking of armored knights ended, the king and princess formed up behind them.
Nabooru couldn't help herself but watch the pair. The vai stood at the king's right, several times looking up to him and each time turning away without saying anything though clearly wishing to. "This is the right thing to do." She finally said, not even looking at her father when she said it.
"Always so certain of yourself," the king replied.
Lord Dormier gave a polite little cough at her side. "Lady Nabooru, your position please."
"Fine, fine. I'm going," she nodded to the little man as she walked to where the rest of the Gerudo matrons stood. She gave a friendly smile to Matron Rijya, and attempted to do the same to Ashdin. Though that was a little difficult.
"Commander," Rijya said.
"Where's your mother?" Ashdin said. "Still ill is she?" She laughed as though what was happening to Bulira was amusing.
"Unfortunately."
Which made Ashdin titter all the harder. There was a vai who the more time Nabooru spent with her, the lower her opinion of them plummeted. When she was a child, she heard of the daring raids of the Matron. Each one pushing deeper into enemy lines than anyone else. Always striking and retreating without any major defeat. Nabooru hoped she would one day be as bold and as brave.
When she grew old enough to lead warriors of her own, she studied Ashdin's battles in full. There had been some clever maneuvers within them, but over and over she marveled less at the matron's boldness, aggression, or skill, and more at her luck. A dozen times her bloodlust should have gotten her killed, and yet her army always managed to scrape away. There is nothing you can learn studying campaigns that relied entirely on fortune going your way.
"Hope she recovers," Rijya said.
Nabooru managed to get out a quick thanks before the drums rolled and trumpets blared. The knights marched out, followed by the royal family. The crowd cheered. The Master of Ceremonies by the passage gave a signal and the rest of the nobles marched out. Nabooru followed those before her as they filed out the door and turned to the side so all the overdressed nobles could be seen by the massive crowd before them.
In the street stood blocks of soldiers. Or at least people that looked like soldiers. The truth of it was they were city watch given new equipment, to be sent to go fight some battle to the East. Nabooru wasn't certain how useful they'd be. Rounding up criminals was not the same as standing shoulder to shoulder facing down the spears and blades of the enemy. Still, they at least knew how to hold their weapons, that was better than some recruits that Nabooru had worked with.
On the sides of the street stood the common people of Castle Town. Some threw flower pedals on the guards, others applauded and sang out at their king.
For his part, King Liotidos stepped onto a large flat circular stone before the crowd. "My people!" He spoke loud but his voice echoed far grander than it should have. Reverberating off the walls.
"Oh that's clever," Nabooru muttered as she looked around the place. Though they were outside, the building behind them had a stone overhead that shielded the nobles from the sun. At first, she thought it only for bad weather, but the entire design was domed. Some clever architect shaped the building to funnel the speakers' voice out among the crowd.
She had to give that to the Hylians. Between their castles, aqueducts, walls, and domes they knew a thing or two about stonework. Perhaps she should have listened when Gan prattled on about them.
"My faithful subjects!" The king continued. The princess stepped away from his side and took a position directly in front of Nabooru. "Today we have gathered to honor our brave guards."
"I guess we'll have to squeeze together, eh?" Nabooru whispered to Zelda.
The girl's head spun about, for a moment there was a flash of something in her eye. Annoyance? Anger? That's interesting. "Commander, it is good to see you." She returned to facing the crowd. "I was uncertain you would attend."
"And why's that?"
"I was told you spend most of your time with your mother. I do so hope that Matron Bulira is getting better."
"Do you now?"
"Of course, Matron Bulira has been nothing but a kind gentle soul."
"The defenders of this city shall become the protectors of all the realm," the king bleated on.
"That she is," Nabooru agreed. "It is good to have a parent to love."
"Indeed," Zelda said, and that ice came back to her voice.
Nabooru sighed, and silently listened to a few more lines of the king's speech. Then lines turned into paragraphs. And paragraphs to pages. "How long can it possibly take to say 'We're sending our guards to go fight moblins. Don't steal or murder any more than normal with them gone'?"
"That is not what the speech is about," Zelda hissed.
"Ahh are you enjoying it? And here I thought I would have an ally," Nabooru said. "You have to be tired of listening to his words as well, eh?"
"How dare you?" The vai did not turn to look at her, but she was actually shaking with anger. So she does care, how about that?
"Oh come princess," Nabs couldn't help but push the blade in a little deeper. "Everyone knows, there's no one in the realm who dislikes your father more than you."
"That's not true!" She said, her voice a note too loud. She gasped as she noticed her voice carry, though the king did not stop in his speech. Zelda turned to glare at Nabooru. "You're rude and you're wrong."
"Perhaps, but I'm honest. It's alright Princess, you can talk to me. The king orders you around, he doesn't understand you, he doesn't appreciate you. You should hate him."
"That's not- how could- you don't know what you're talking about."
Nabooru just smiled. "Of course, I have no idea what it's like being an angry little vai, prickling at everything her parent tells her. Only you have ever experienced that."
Over the last few weeks, Nabooru had gotten to know a bit of the king. He wasn't particularly impressive, but he had a look about him. A glower when he was thinking heavily on things or holding back anger at something in front of him. A way his brow pressed together, and he ground his teeth until they set into a frown. And by the sands it was funny seeing that exact same expression on the face of an eleven-year-old vai. "You had a kind and good mother. I'm certain any such feelings you may have felt were entirely your fault."
"I think we're supposed to be facing the crowd there, princess."
Ooh the anger on this one. Almost burned being so close to it. If she held a blade, Nabooru would worry the she would try to stab her, before she did turn away huffing.
"You'll have to explain it to me though," Nabooru spoke to the back of the kid's head. "Is your father so much worse? Is he beating you, perhaps? Making you feel worthless? Selling you off to the highest bidder? Anything unforgivable?"
She did not answer.
"No? So, he's just a normal man then? Tries but messes up, some good, some bad? That sound about right?"
Still nothing, though the princess craned her head high and Nabooru could see the tension in her shoulders.
"Word of advice then princess. It took me leaving home and near dying to figure things out. Next time I saw my ma I begged for forgiveness for all the silly things I put her through. They say you're clever, perhaps you can figure out how to do that without fighting a war first."
That was it. Her little attempt to fix two people that Nabooru didn't know, nor particularly like. There, Jora, I hope that helped. She stayed silent through the rest of the speech, and it was a long, long speech. Somehow more dull than when Gan got in front of a crowd. And with that boredom her mind wandered, though to nowhere pleasant. Back to that dark room, where Bulira sat and waited for the enemy to arrive.
Trumpets pulled her back to the world. The king raised his hands and waved. The drummers rattled a marching beat. And the guard turned and walked out through the main city street marching on tempo toward the city gate. All the while people shouted their feelings and encouragement. Some women rushed forward to give last kisses to loved ones, or perhaps they were simply showing appreciation for a handsome man in armor that caught their eye. Others gave them food. If the guards were anything like Gerudo recruits, the hugs and kisses would be what they remembered, but the food would become their true treasure when the marches go long and they grow tired of hard bread and dried meat.
They stayed watching the new soldiers depart until they were out of the square completely, then King Regent Liotidos turned and walked back into the arch and the rest of the nobles all made their way after him. The knights were the last to re-enter the building. Sir Jora immediately went to Zelda's side, and Nabooru went to his.
"See not so bad," he whispered as they all filed their way out of the building and out into the street.
"Not so great, either. Will you be returning to the castle?"
"That's for her to decide." He looked to his ward. "What do you say, your royal highness, shall we return home?"
"No," the girl said. At first Nabooru thought the vai was being childishly obstinate. But she wasn't looking at either of them, nor did she have the expression of one trying to be spiteful. "Since we're in the city, there's a place I wish to visit. If you'll let me."
"Of course, your father has said many times you need to go outside more. So long as you don't, you know, try what you tried last time."
"That sounds like a story," Nabooru said. "What happened last time?"
"Nothing," the princess said far too quick. "And no, this will be nothing like that. There's a place I wish to visit. A temple. And I'd like to visit it alone. Just with my guardian."
"It's fine princess, I didn't want to go to one of your temples anyway." She looked to Jora. "Will I see you later today?"
"I shall try, but likely not. If I can't today, I will try and see you tomorrow. Give Bulira my best. This illness has been with her too long already."
She kissed him on the cheek before they parted. Jora walked away asking the princess questions about the temple. If there were any great pieces of art held within, or sacred relics to make it worth the trip. Nabooru did not hear Zelda's answers, instead she found Honeyhoof and untied her from the hitching post. She rode back to the castle alongside numerous courtiers and the king himself, who sat astride an impressive looking destrier trying to settle debates and make agreements with the nobles and merchants that swarmed him like flies to rotten meat.
One wonders how anyone had the patience for all that nonsense.
By the time they reached the castle and the horses were all given to the stablehands, Nabooru had quite enough of the company of Hylian nobility. Everyone seemed to want to fill the peaceful air with their own voice. Everyone preening at her, asking about Ganondorf or the war effort. As though it wasn't clear they saw her as a means of getting her king's ear.
What Bulira was dealing with was truly terrible, but, Nabooru would be lying if she said she was not thankful to use her 'illness' as an excuse to get away from all these people. She managed to reach the Gerudo Quarters before Rijya and Ashdin and their escort. It was almost empty, with only those few who loitered in the rooms, unwilling to bid the city guards goodbye and a few servants who wandered the halls cleaning things.
Well, them and Bulira's personal guard.
"How is she?" Nabooru asked Sheviath, the leader of the three stationed to attend to Bulira for the day.
The soldier shrugged. "Hasn't left her room." The woman was of a height with Nabooru, with a fierce reputation. Nabooru had never before seen the Boar-Heads battle, but training with them since she arrived at the castle she found them more than adequate. Sheviath was a leader among them, and young for her position. Though you wouldn't know it by looking at her. Some people are just born old, and her natural ancient look was only aided by her already weather-beaten skin and two massive tattoos of boar-tusks that came up from her chin and lined the sides of her face.
"And our unwanted visitors?" Nabooru asked as she opened the door to Bulira's room.
"There weren't any," Sheviath said. "Though, Commander Nabooru, I feel I must tell you. The Matron has told us to disregard your orders about them, again."
"Ignore her. The Twinrova are not to be allowed near my mother."
"Nabooru?" Light from the doorway and through the small cracks remaining in the boarded windows revealed Bulira sitting in her chair in the corner of the room, wrapped in her shawl. Beside her, a stew sat on her desk. The same stew that Nabooru had gotten her before leaving the castle. "Why do you speak so ill of them?" She said, her eyes wide and glassy wet. "They have done nothing but good for us and our people."
"Ughn," Sheviath said as she closed the door.
"Ma," Nabooru went to her mother's side and stooped to a knee. "You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry." Though her eyes revealed the lie of it. She looked almost longingly at the food, before she turned away. Bulira had always been skinny. The witches often forgot that those in their household needed food. More than once she had forgone a meal so Nabs and Gan and even the shell of Sir Godwyn could fill their bellies. But the Twinrova never forgot to order them all about every day and night. Forcing Bulira to maintain far more of that old temple than anyone used. When last Nabooru had seen her, dressed as a Matron and riding in a procession of warriors she looked healthier than she had ever looked before. But now that was gone. She must be the only Gerudo in all the world, who lost weight feasting with the Hylian Royal Court. Matron Ashdin looked as if she had somehow gained another stone. Even Matron Rijya and her spearlike daughters all had filled out now they were not in the desert.
But not Bulira. She looked worse than ever.
"I know what you're doing," Nabooru took her mother's hand. "It isn't the way. You don't need to fight them. That's why I'm here."
Bulira's thin weathered hands clutched hers, stronger than she looked, and her eyes, there was more sorrow behind them than Nabooru could ever explain. "I- I must-" Her mouth fought to form words, but what came out were not Bulira's words. It may have her tongue and voice, but it was not her. "Did I tell you what I overheard the Princess Zelda was saying to Jora the other day?"
This again. Every time Bulira tried to speak of those twin wretches lies would spew out instead. "What could you have possibly overheard them say? You haven't left this room in days."
"The princess has provided a suitable match for him. A Hylian woman, noble, and wealthy. Meek and kind. Not someone with such a violent temper, like you. Someone who would care for him. Be good for him. Not like you at all." Now the tears started their slow descent down her face.
Nabooru took a deep breath and let it out. She was not angry with her mother, and she needed to direct that anger appropriately. It was the Twinrova. All her wrath needed to be directed at the Twinrova. But this? It was almost embarrassing.
Do they truly think so little of me? Do they think these feeble lies would trick me in any way? It would take half a moment's thought to discover the deception. Only a complete fool would believe them. For better or worse, Kotake and Koume had known her for Nabooru's entire life. And this was all the effort she was worth?
Of course it is. If they think of me at all it's as a nuisance, nearly beneath their notice.
For the rest of the day, Nabooru tended to her mother. Doing her best to avoid any further talk of the old hags. Instead, they spoke of all that happened that day, from the king's tedious speech to all those who stopped Nabooru to wish Bulira well. That got a smile, it must make Bulira feel good knowing how many cared for her. They discussed the parade of the city guards and what they would face when they reached the battles to the East. She even told of the conversation with the princess.
"You shouldn't have said that!" Bulira said more than once, though she held back a laugh each time. It was good, seeing her mother smile. Even if it was between lectures on Nabooru's poor manners. Bulira even took some food when the day grew late. Not enough, but every bit helped.
When night fell and what little light in the room disappeared, Nabooru helped her mother to her bed before preparing for the night. If the witches would come, the dark is when they would do it. First, she checked the windows to make certain they were secure. Then she spoke to the guards for the night, telling them to charge in should they hear anything.
Then she prepared her own travel mattress, unfurling it to the side of her mother's bed. Before she wrapped herself in blankets and went to sleep she placed her weapons by her side along with her great gleaming shield. They'll never see it coming. She thought as she checked to make certain the shield's surface was a mirror shine.
Bulira fell asleep quick, how could she not? She ate so little, it was a wonder she had the strength to stay awake at all. But Nabooru waited, counting until deep into the night. When she was certain that daylight was not far away, and the witches would not be making an appearance. Her heavy eyes closed, and darkness enveloped her.
A scream woke her up.
Nabooru tore the blankets from herself and leaped to her feet. Somehow her shield and sword already held tight in her hands. Behind her the door slammed open as guards charged inside. "Where are they!" She yelled as she searched around the room.
But there was no one. Only Bulira, screaming on her bed. Reaching out for her. Nabooru dropped her sword and went to her mother, letting the old woman wrap her arms tight around Nabooru.
"They were here," she wailed. "They were here. I saw them. They were here."
"It's alright, ma, it's alright. They're gone now." Nabooru signaled the guards to leave, they obeyed though they gave each other confused looks on the way out.
"They said they were done with me. For now. They said-" She stopped and held Nabooru even tighter. "I can speak," it was almost a wail of terror and exhaustion, the wail of a hard fought battle finally over. "I can speak of them. I can't feel them anymore. I can say their names. Kotake. Koume. They've been there for so long. Their laughter, every time- every time."
"Breathe ma. We're safe. They're gone that's a good thing."
"No," she shook her head. "There has to be something more. I feel it. Why would they release me? Why? Why now? After all this time. It doesn't make sense."
"Perhaps their spell finally wore off," Nabooru said to calm her mother down. But as she felt the tears dampen her shoulder, she knew that could not be it. Bulira was right, as deranged as the witches appeared, they did nothing without a reason.
A chill but gentle breeze swept across Nabooru's face. Above her, the windows were open. The wooden planks that once boarded them shut disappeared. It did not make sense. They would only do such a thing if they knew for certain that Bulira would not be able to hinder them. That whatever she had to tell Nabooru was worthless.
The battle was over before Nabooru even had a chance to make a move.
But still, she needed to try.
"Mother, I need to know, what are they trying to do?"
Author's Note: Fun fact, so far this is the new record for most rewritten chapter. Over the course the rewrites it was at various times a Zelda chapter, an Impa chapter, a Nabooru chapter that had her not even going to the parade, and a Bulira chapter. Regardless, I hope you find it enjoyable.