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Chap. 58: Defensive Tactics

At first, Zelda thought Bolson, Hudson, and Karson starting setting up barricades on the wider, scrub-grass-covered path below the pastoral pond surrounded by trees, and fed by the waterfall that ran out from the cliffs below Purah and Robbie's laboratory. But as she thought about it, and watched them put together the simple but hopefully effective fortifications while she assisted the women of the town in heating up every bit of oil or grease they could scrounge up, she had to admit the wisdom of it.

Yes, building the wooden walls, little more than eight or so planks with a couple of beams or thicker planks crossways to hold them together and with some feet at the third angle to keep them more or less upright seemed like a very perilous activity so close to the camps where the monsters chattered.

It didn't take a military genius to know that they were cutting it close, not too far out of the range of one particular blue-skinned Moblin's massive bow, which was as tall as he was and might as well be considered a siege engine. It probably had the draw and range of at least a smaller ballista, she guessed.

On the other hand, building the barricades backwards, from areas closer to the still-amassing army should, in theory, buy a little more time for the later barricades to be assembled. More of them, and perhaps better ones, too. Barricades that were more than just spikes to slow and break up an oncoming force, with some small amounts of probably too-flammable cover for their archers while they harried and killed what they could.

Symin was coordinating logistics with Clavia, but the mayor's wife would soon be acting as a medic, for she was the only one in town with any real skill in the area. Purah and Zelda both had donated what healing elixirs and poultices they could, but the princess has been forced by necessity to keep at least a few of them, including her strongest one, on hand for herself. Just in case. Hopefully they would not be needed, but Purah had insisted that if the town seemed lost, she was to flee. "You're more important than this whole town, Princess," the girl-scientist had told her quietly in a rare moment alone. "I mean that. If you die, all of Hyrule, all of the world, is lost. One town is a small sacrifice to make. I know you hate it, I do too. But that's the way it is. Promise me."

So Zelda had reluctantly promised, and kept with her a single elixir that would also, she thought, help her run farther and faster for a while. Just in case.

Symin had sent a runner, who happened to be Sefaro once more, to bring her, Purah, and Reede a list of what they had prepared, along with a second tally of what he estimated they could have within the hour, along with a final note that the estimates were, of course, just that and subject to change. Zelda had scanned it briefly, estimated they lacked anywhere near close to enough arrows, and then started assisting Reede with first directing what limited 'forces' they had to where they were best used.

Nat and Meghyn were among those either setting out stacks of arrows, sixty or more in each pile, with three piles in total, which runners would distribute as archers called for them during the battle. There was a larger pile where she currently was along with Reede, at the crossroads between Hateno Beach, the Research Lab, and the Village itself, while another was higher up the hill at the lab itself, and the last down the hill toward the town by the first windmill, just in case they had to make a fighting withdrawal past any of the barricades.

Ivee, Pruce, Sophia, and a dozen others including Koyin's father were caring for their bows, making sure they had spare string, and taking a minimum of twenty arrows each from the piles as they were assigned by Pruce himself into either pairs or groups of four. The better archers, the princess thought, were being put in larger groups to hold specific locations on the path as long as they could, while the less-skilled would work in tandem to reinforce others as needed, or to mass-fire over the heads of the other archers.

Sophia, and two of the town's more well-known women were put to work making bandage-rolls and boiling water for the quick treatment of any injuries, while Sayge, who ran a local dye- and fabric shop that helped provide Sofia with most of her materials, set about making some simple healing potions and medicines to help.

Prima and her father, since they had most of the materials on-hand at the Great Ton Pu Inn, were put in charge of the oil. Six cauldrons in total, two each at three spots, would be set to pour down on the advancing Bokoblins.

It had been Purah's idea to then set the oil on fire, one which made Zelda wince, but nod her approval at. It would be a painful, horrible way to go… but it would also be effective, and the village's people could not afford to play nice.

Bolson and his team worked quickly, far faster than Zelda would have expected, and the first barricade was done within ten minutes. Less time, in fact, than it had taken a single Bokoblin scout to approach, then turn to run back and report to the army what he had seen.

The Bokoblin made it about ten feet after turning around, before a stone larger than Zelda's head smashed into the back of the Bokoblin's, hard enough to send it tumbling to the ground, already dissipating into smoke.

"Nice shot, Hudson," she heard the bald, older construction foreman call with pride, "That'll teach 'em! Come on, we've got to start working on the next set. Won't be long now, we might be building these things until the reach us!"

She watched the army camp carefully after that, but they neither sent another runner or scout, nor reacted too poorly to the death of one of their own. She supposed it would have been pointless, one red Bokoblin amid the horde must seem paltry, and it wasn't like the army couldn't see them preparing, too.

They didn't seem to care, either way.

Purah was not preparing in any traditional sense, either. Zelda had only seen her once in the last two hours, but the researcher had been bustling about the kitchen of her Lab like a child possessed as she tended to four pots, two cauldrons, and occasionally stirred or sifted various powders into a large pile spread across her kitchen table that was full of gray, black, and white particles. Something about just looking at it had made Zelda feel uneasy, and she noticed Purah had kept all sorts of flame away from the stuff, but she had little time to question what it was.

All of that had been more than two hour ago. Three hours after that, a burly man with a square nose and soft jaw that contrasted heavily with the rest of his face except the light pink hair he sported in a stubble-short cut, had approached her. "Princess, I need you to come to Ventest."

Seeing her confusion, he stood a little taller, and placed his hand on his broad, well-muscled chest, "I'm Seldon, Sophie's brother. I have your armor ready- figured you could use it for the battle."

Her eyes widened, and she glanced toward Koyin, who had been following her and assisting with whatever she could, after running home and grabbing the Lizal Spear Zelda had supplied her with what felt like months ago, when they had fought near-naked together on the edges of Lake Sumac.

Koyin shrugged, which Zelda took to mean he was at least who he claimed. There was at least a slight resemblance to his younger sister in the eyes, so Zelda nodded, "Alright, let's go. Koyin, are you okay finishing up here? I don't know how long we'll be."

"I'm gonna take you on horse," Seldon replied, gesturing a short ways off where a dappled gray mare was munching on the grass at the roadside near an apple tree that had already been picked clean. "Should be there and back in about an hour."

Now they were almost done. Her cuirass was already strapped on, along with both pauldrons, the right a little lighter to let her main hand move easier. Beneath the breastplate, which was only molded a little for her chest to better deflect a blow rather than focus it toward the center of her chest, she wore a layer of surprisingly well-fitted leather that Seldon had told her was hand-molded to her shape based on his sister's measurement of Zelda more than two weeks earlier. "An' don' worry none about me whisperin' your personal business, neither," he had concluded, "You ain't my type, an' I ain't the type to gossip anyhow."

She'd almost been offended at the comment, and some of it must have shone on her face, because the armorsmith had leaned in consipiratorially, "That Mr. Bolson, though, he's a right fine fella for the likes of me."

Zelda had blushed, but nodded quickly, "I… see. Well, fear not, I'm not the type for gossip either. And I thank you for your discretion. And the quality of your work, it's amazing."

That had made the burly armorsmith blush and look away, "Why, thank you kindly, Princess. I only can do what I was taught by my Pa, and his Pa, and so on, but we did our best to keep the tricks and trade alive over the last few generations. Hearing approval from yerself, bein' the Princess of Hyrule, is mighty praise."

The woman in question blushed herself, "I'm not… I mean, I was, I suppose, but there's hardly a Hyrule left, now. I'm just a person."

"Now, I don't reckon I agree with that," Seldon told her firmly as he helped tighten some of the straps that held the breastplate to the rear part of the cuirass, "You're a might be more'n that, if the stories our Elders tell mean anythin' at all. Stories about sacred power, and destiny, an' all that. I reckon you bein' here, today, for this attack, is as much a sign as anything else the Elder's have always talked about. I know this day's gonna be tough. I'm gonna be there, too. But I reckon, with you here, we got us a decent change of makin' it through. Otherwise, even without just yer warning, we'd be in real dire straights. So thank you, Princess. You earned this man's loyalty a dozen times over just fer what you've done today."

"The day's not over yet," she reminded him quietly.

Seldon nodded seriously, "You're right, there. Come on, let's get your vambraces an' leggings on, then you'll be good for the Saboton, and we can see what kind of dashing figure our Princess makes. Just goin' off what I see here, you'll be mighty dashing indeed."

It took twenty more minutes to finish donning the armor after that. Zelda flexed and bent, moved and twisted around in every direction she could think of, with Seldon offering a few more as he watched critically, then finally nodded. "Right, then. Step down off that box there, and come over here. I reckon it moves as good as any other set I've ever made, rush adjustment or no."

She stepped in front of the mirror carefully, glad that the armor fit as well as it did. It was heavy, but not unbearably so, its weight distributed about her body with a series of straps and harnesses that did a good job of leaving her movements mostly unhindered, though everything took just a little more force than she was used to. But as she looked at herself in the floor-length mirror Sofia had set up for the more fashion-conscious of her customers, Zelda had to agree with Seldon's assessment.

Not only was the armor easy to move in, it looked effective…

And she looked very good in it.

Not sexy in the traditional sense, like Prima was with her makeup, or Sagessa in the way she carried herself, or Koyin's fierce determination and innocence. She was sexy more like… like Celessa, or some warrior-queen of old. Zelda was a lot shorter than Seldon, and only came up to the middle of his upper arm, but she was certain that, at least outfitted with her normal weaponry, she could absolutely best him in a straight fight like this. Even better, she looked…

Well, like a Princess. Perhaps not in the more traditional sense of one, who would wear fancy dresses and robes and that sort of thing, but the kind of princess who could, and did, lead armies in battle. One who was determined to protect her people.

Zelda smiled, and reached without looking for the crested helmet Seldon offered her. It was royal blue, like the sash and a few of the other decorative pieces. "My favorite color," she whispered, and placed it on her head.

It fit snugly. Perfectly, in fact, with a slightly wider gap to accommodate her ears, which were a little more pointed than most Hylians. "You look perfect," Seldon told her with a grin as he stepped back, "Like you should be here, like you belong here, among your people. Leading us. And, uh, I might have gone back through some old records to see what our princess' favorite color was. Saw something in an old note that she almost always wore royal blue, so… I took a chance. I'm glad you like it."

Zelda's smiled widened as she turned and threw her arms around the burly smith. "It's perfect," she whispered, "Thank you. Thank you."

She looked like a soldier of Hyrule. Someone sworn to defend it.

She remembered that armor, and remembered wearing a suit much like the one she had now in days long gone. The hug was out of gratitude, but it also served to keep her from being embarrassed by a few unsightly tears. There was a battle coming, she could not afford for anyone to think her weak. Not just then.

As the sun hit the Faron Mountains to the west, some sort of signal began to ripple through the camp below. Zelda, Purah, Symin, Reede, and Bolson stood atop the high balcony of Purah's Laboratory, each of them outfitted with a spyglass as they strained their eyes to spot any sort of movement or sign.

It was still Koyin, at Zelda's side, who made the first call. "There," she said, pointing with one finger toward the partially-rebuilt tower that Zelda had blown to pieces in her last assault and escape. "Look, they're all running out from that spot."

It took Zelda herself a moment to find it, but she nodded, "Looks like runners. It's time."

"I agree," Reede said with a nod, then turned toward his own designated runner, a boy whom she hadn't yet been formally introduced to. "Naden, go tell Clavia and the others to start bringing up the oil. I hope it stays hot enough. After that, go join the others to run arrows and help the injured get back to the relief station."

"On it!" the young man, who couldn't have been older than fourteen, barked. He was far too young to join in the battle, Zelda thought, but here he was, practically on the front lines. The situation below demanded nothing less, so what choice did they have? Girls as young as Karin and Anzu were helping Clavia and her assistants. Everyone younger, or at least almost everyone, were safely holed up inside the largest stone structure of the village, the mayor's house. Hopefully it would hold, even if the rest of the place was burned.

If not… well, the children wouldn't have to suffer long, probably. It was the few adults assigned to care for them, all women, which would suffer the most.

But Zelda didn't have time to think about that. Not any more. She was faced with perhaps the hardest duty of all: manning the front lines.

Despite urging Koyin to stay back, the girl insisted on following Zelda wherever she went. At least now she was outfitted in Zelda's borrowed traveler's leathers, the ones the Great Fairy, Cotera, had enchanted with her strange magic. It was, she thought, almost as stout as protection as the armor Zelda herself wore.

Hopefully, she would be able to keep the girl safe.

"Princess, if you could-"

"I know," she nodded, interrupted the mayor as he turned toward her after giving final instructions to Symin, "I'm on it. We'll delay them as much as we can. I just hope the arrows hold out."

"Don't forget the Slate, Princess!" Purah called as she turned away.

"R- Right!" Zelda's feet changed direction at once. Instead of circling the lab, which might have saved thirty seconds or a minute, she hurried inside, only distantly aware of Koyin's amazed look at the mess and strange contraptions inside. "It's usually not quite this bad," Zelda explained breathlessly as she removed the Sheikah Slate from Purah's Guidance Stone, and checked the power. "It's always bad, but Purah's made an even bigger mess trying to get things ready. Whatever she was working on, I hope it helps."

"Bombs, I think," the younger girl replied, sounding terrified and excited at the same time, "I smell saltpeter and black powder."

"Is that what those were?" Zelda murmured, glancing at the now-empty white parchment on the table. "Hm. I hope she doesn't take out the rest of us in the process. I've got Bombs of my own, but… Let's see, thirty-six percent. That will definitely help."

Again, she idly noted that the Ancient Furnace outside was lit, but flickering dangerously low. They had set it to charge the Slate as fast as possible over he last two hours, and it seemed to have helped, but the last little bit that was the Lab itself's last line of defense might not work if it was underpowered.

They just had to hope it didn't get that far.

As Zelda started running down the paths toward the beach, she ran a quick calculation in her head. She had… about two hundred and thirty bombs, she guessed, before things got dire. She could press for maybe another hundred past that, but then she needed to stop. That was a lot of destructive power, and spread out over a not-small window of time. It should be enough.

She hoped.

At the first camp, she added to the alarm by calling out, "They're moving! The attack is about to begin, to your stations!"

But this time, there was no panic. Somehow, out of the ragtag band of villagers and common-folk, they had mustered fifty- no, that was at least sixty- armed men and women, with anything from a hunting spear or bow to an old, heirloom claymore. Most of those front-line fighters were armored or carried simple but effective shields of banded wood or steel, and a few had both. Eighteen in all had some sort of steel armor like her own, though most were a little heavier and more patchwork than her own brand-new set.

It was still pitifully small if you just looked at the numbers. They were outnumbered a minimum of six to one, and each of the Bokoblins was a match for a standard soldier on their own… if you just looked at raw ability. But these were people defending their homes, and they were going all-out. That counted for a lot. Hopefully, the advantage of terrain and preparation would be enough, with the archers, oil, and explosives and barricades to make enough of a difference.

The next group, and the one after that, started a trend. Every twenty-five or fifty feet down the path, she saw another trio or quad of barricades interspersed with tiger's teeth, designed not to stop an oncoming force, but to break it up, with crude trenches added below the other fortifications to slow the attackers further. Bridges with a few spare planks had been left up, for now, so that runners and reinforcements could arrive… or fall back.

As she passed each one, Zelda paused briefly to murmur what words of encouragement she could, and vowed to remember each terrified face, and the few names she picked up with it. At every single place, she also saw a barrel marked with a large red X over two red circles with a line between them. It wasn't until she saw the fourth such barrel that she realized they were a slapdash drawing of Purah's glasses. Explosives, she realized. The bombs Purah had been making weren't to attack the enemy with, then. Instead, they were designed to blast the attackers to smithereens as they approached.

Maybe, with luck, send any survivors careening back down the steep bluffs and slopes toward the beach-head and rocky shoreline below.

Seldon was one of the many armor-clad individuals, and he, like the rest, had taken up a position as a squad leader for the less-seasoned troops. If they could be called troops at all. Either way, they were what Zelda and the other people of Hateno had, even if it seemed like fully half of the Village was here, ready to fight. It was almost encouraging, and definitely inspiring… if you didn't look down the beach at what they were up against.

Koyin was breathing hard when she reached the last group, at the thickest and first barricades Bolson and his team had constructed. The man leading that group was none other than Hudson himself, the burly senior worker for Bolson Construction, who had killed a Bokoblin a few hours back with a single well-placed rock. "Mr. Hudson," she greeted with a look that she hoped didn't betray her own nerves. He, alone, seemed quite calm out of the ten people at the barricades. A double group, twice the size of the rest.

It only made sense: this was where the battle would first be joined, and it was the most easily defended location. Or at least, that's what Reede's plan suggested, but Zelda knew he had been laying a multi-layered trap for the Bokoblin army since the defenses had first gone up. Her presence here was a trap too, designed to lure out the leadership… and hopefully blow them to hell before the rest of the attack truly began. No fewer than eight of the same red-glasses-painted barrels were stacked up behind the rows of barricades here, and she knew a single flaming arrow or one of her own bombs would be more than enough to set off the lot.

As long as they were well clear, any enemies they could take out would be worth it.

The enemies that were coming up the once well-used, now slightly overgrown path to the beach itself.

Zelda swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat, and turned to address this group, too. "Alright, men, women, Hudson. There's a simple plan: We kill as many as we can. When either myself or Hudson calls a retreat- or if any three of us are injured- we all pull back. That's part of the plan. We're supposed to look like we're mounting a solid defense here. We will mount a solid defense, at least at first. When the leaders come out, or if we start getting overwhelmed, we fall back to the next barricade, and the next, and so on. Those who can shoot, keep going up to an archer position. If you're wounded, fall back to the rock positions. If you can still fight on, then stay at each barricade in sequence, and fight until there are no enemies left- or none of us."

"To the last," one grisly-bearded older man growled, "I'm done takin' the lumps this lot have been given' us since my grandpappy's time. It's time to fight back, I say, like you'n the Mayor said. We'll give 'em what-for!"

"Good. Just remember, follow the plan. We're supposed to be making it look like this is all we have, while further concentrating our forces at the top of the road. Then, if there's enough of them left, we blow the whole thing up. If we can whittle the force down before they get that far, so much the better. Just remember your practice and training, and trust the people beside you, and as many of us as possible will live to see tomorrow."

Hudson nodded, "Well said, Princess," then turned and hefted a huge hammer, similar in design to Zelda's currently shrunk-down mining hammer but three times its full size onto his shoulder, then up into the air, "Get ready! Weapons up! Fire on my mark!"

They only had three archers among them, just enough to weaken the advance once they came into range. That was alright, not counting Zelda's own arrows (of which there were many, well over a hundred, if she didn't have to supply other archers during the fight), they had just forty. Ten shots each. That wasn't their only firepower, though, not by a long shot.

Because the advancing army, which was starting to actually gain some sort of formation as they started moving toward the bluffs, was getting more and more tightly packed… and they were all downhill.

With an almost savage grin, Zelda pulled out her first bow, one of many she intended to draw until they snapped that night, and set it on the ground beside her with a handful of arrows. Koyin could not shoot, but that was alright. She'd been given instructions to snag the weapons if they had to retreat, lest Zelda help arm the enemy.

That was, if Zelda wasn't holding them, which she planned to be. But first, a tap of a button summoned an eight-inch wide, shining blue sphere. "The Bokoblins call me blue-fire-lady," she explained to the sudden awestruck villagers. "Let me show you why. This is the blue fire… and when it reaches them, the flame."

With an almost casual toss, she set the ball rolling down the bumpy hill, and strung the bow. She would have plenty of time, while the Slate recharged that Rune, to string it. There would be, if her estimation was right, at least nine bombs rolled toward the increasingly grouped-up army before she detonated the first one. After seven had blown up, they would be in range of her own bows, and after eight, probably the other archers.

Yes… they could do this. They had to, there was no other choice.