Chapter 74: The Burdens of Rule
The master of ceremonies droned on as he announced the members of the highest court. Gan knew the displays of prestige were important for browbeating the simple-minded, but that did not mean he had to enjoy listening to the dozens of titles and honors lavished upon his mothers and closest advisors. It took the better part of an hour before anything got done.
"Durrell," he waved the young man to his side. "How many today?"
"More than you'd like, I fear, Your Majesty."
"That's not a number."
The Hylian opened his scroll and glanced through it. Over the last seven years, the Arlan voe had grown to a lanky thing, that still had the spots of youth on his face. Gan had planned to hold him as a hostage to keep his uncle in line. It hadn't worked. The uncle had no great love for his nephew. "My sister has other sons," he had rasped.
After the Battle of the Whistling Hill, when all thought Arlan had been defeated for good and all, Gan hadn't known what to do with the voe. It served no purpose to kill him, his uncle wouldn't care. But he had a brain, so Gan stayed his hand and put him to work. Why waste a tool?
"Over fifty," Durrell said. "Fifty-seven, if you want the exact number."
"How many of these cases are frivolous? There must be a way to get that number down. I will not be here all day."
"Beg your pardon, Majesty, but I already took the liberty of removing the unimportant petitioners. Your Grace must understand that open court has not been held in three months. Issues among the people will pile up."
"His Royal Majesty," the marshal began. Gan gestured the voe away and began his march through his throne room. He reached the far side before his announcement had concluded. "Conqueror and Uniter of Greater Hyrule, High Chief of the Lizalfos and Dodongo, Over-Caller of the Octorok, Warchief of the Moblins, Lord Paramount of the Hylians, Gorons, Zora, and Sheikah, King of Kings, and the Bearer of Power."
When the marshal finished, Gan gave one solemn look around the hall. To Gerudo and Hylian alike, he knew it made him look imperious, a figure larger than the high mountains, grander than the vast sea, and deadlier than the desert itself. Then he sat upon his throne, and the rest of his council took their place by his side.
His mothers had their own smaller thrones placed beside him. The rest of his council had less extravagant chairs set at either wing. Four additional vai made up his councilors, though only three now sat. Dessi, whom he had appointed Castellan of the Castle leaned in her chair. At her side sat Ashlo, daughter of the Sandstorm, granted the title of Mayor of Castle Town. On his other side was Estam, the Grand Treasurer, and Matron Heir of the Molduga-Skinners.
The last of the council had no seat. Bethmasse, his Master of the Guard and Overseer of the Barracks stood at the foot of the stairs that led to the throne and glared at the gathered crowds. Among the low folk, her fearsome reputation had grown larger than his own. He'd heard the servants whisper about the scars she gained on the night of Beramus' fall that she wore with pride and the arm she always had covered in cloth and steel. "The first may approach," she said.
The guards let three Gerudo stand before the council. After each gave their salutes of respect, they began a dull tale of disruptions in their caravans to the east a month prior.
"Missing merchandise is not our concern." Koume interrupted.
"Perhaps the drivers thought to rob you." Kotake agreed.
"They would not be the first to take possession of what is foolishly given to them to protect."
"My sister led those caravans," said one of the merchants. "She would never rob me."
"Sisters can be fickle," the Twinrova said in unison.
"Not mine."
"Excuse her, Honored Twinrova," another of the merchants silenced the first. "But ours is not the only caravan to disappear on the eastern roads. It was the Duke's Men. We all know it. They have plagued-"
"Do not call them that," Gan said. "Harlow Arlan has been stripped of his titles and lands. He is little more than a brigand."
"My apologies, my king. Arlan's men, then. It must have-"
"Arlan and his thieves are in the South," Ashlo said. "They fought a battle there, have you not heard?"
"A battle, she says?" Koume cackled.
"A rout, a trick, a disgrace, more like." Kotake agreed.
"Be that as it may, he is not in the east."
"It may have been Moblins, then." The merchants looked increasingly ill at ease. "Those animals have always spit upon our treaties. They grow wanton and restless with the land you've given them."
"Do you have evidence?" Kotake asked.
"Or only conjecture?" Koume continued.
"Is your sole purpose to find fault in your king's decisions?"
The merchants' expression twisted to fear. The one who had not yet spoken backed away as she stared at the Twinrova. His mothers' noticed, and their smiles grew wider.
"Hold sisters," Gan said. "The crown will provide some reimbursement of the cost of your caravan. And I will send riders to uncover the disruption on the road to the east. If the Moblins prove to be the culprit, then I will deal with them."
"Thank you, my king." The three declared as Bethe ushered them out of the hall and beckoned for the next to approach.
As the low folk shuffled about, Estam looked to Gan. "I've been meaning to bring up that brigand, as it were. Might as well address him now. Arlan has already embarrassed and defeated one of our commanders. The money we wasted on that army cannot be brought back, and the more he causes disruption in the south the less we make from the Matrons placed there, along with the loyal Hylian lords. He will need to be dealt with."
"And are you offering to take up this duty?" Gan glared at her.
Estam smiled. "I'm the least suited one on this council to do so. Surely Your Majesty, Commander Bethmasse, or Commander Desquesza would be more up to the task."
"Then stick to counting the numbers and leave Harlow Arlan to those more knowledgeable."
"Very well, to the numbers then. How much do you wish to pay these merchants for the caravan? The treasury is perhaps not as robust as you think. Besides, should we offer too much then every merchant with a broken wheel will come begging-"
"Pay the three however much you think it's worth. Do not bother me with trivialities."
"As you say, my king."
The morning dragged on, from one issue to another. Representatives of a Matron in one clan would speak out against the Matron of another. The guilds complained about taxes, merchants bemoaned the loss of safety on the roads. They droned on and on. Gan could not help but let his mind wander to more important matters; with word of troubles on the mountain, will it delay the shipment of stones for the aqueduct? Which old laws needed to be repealed, and how could they be replaced with his vision of the world? And, of course, how to uncover the mysteries of his piece of the Triforce. Seven years and he had only begun to tap into the true potential of the divine gift.
What did these small problems matter when compared to the reshaping of the world?
Some hours in, Bethe called for a Hylian voe and a Gerudo. The latter he recognized, though he had not learned her name. She was one of the Star Singers who still dwelled within the city after the death of the Most-Feared. She strolled up to the foot of the throne and saluted. The Hylian tried to do the same.
"Lower your arm," the Twinrova shouted. "Hylians prostrate themselves before the throne, as they always have."
The man stared at them, uncomprehending.
"Commander Bethmasse, make the voe kneel," Ashlo demanded.
The towering warrior loomed over the man and placed her hand on his shoulder.
"Wait!" He shouted in Hylian. "I have done nothing wrong. It's her!" He pointed to the Star Singer at his side. "She's the one who robbed my shop and cut my son when he protested. It was-"
Bethe slammed her fist into his stomach, making the man double over.
"Gerudo is the tongue of the court," Bethe rasped in the man's ear.
"I don't know what you're saying," the man sobbed, continuing to speak in his scratching language. "Please, King Dragmire, I am sorry. Whatever I've done to offend you."
She struck him again.
"My king!" Durrell ran before Gan and fell to his knees. "This man does not know your language. Please, allow me to act as translator for him."
"The fool has had seven years to learn," Kotake said.
"Stupidity must be punished as readily as any crime," Koume agreed.
"Yes, my king, he is a fool. But even a fool deserves justice."
Gan sighed, all this wasted time, for what? A minor theft? He waved Durrell forward. "Make this quick."
Durrell stood, bowed once more, then rushed to the Hylian's side. He whispered in the voe's ear as Bethe stepped away, back to her position as the barrier between the low folk and the throne.
"That Hylian has grown impertinent," Koume whispered to Gan.
"Two years ago, he would never have dared to speak up," Kotake agreed.
"He gave no offense," Gan muttered. "He knows his place and understands that his life is entirely at my pleasure."
"Too gentle with these Hylia worshipers."
"Our son does not remember their treacheries."
"He still wants to be seen as benevolent."
"Weakness."
"Pathetic."
"Enough," Gan shouted, and all the throne room froze. He ground his teeth as his mothers cackled. "Durrell, that is enough. Make the Hylian's case so we can be done with this."
"Yes, Your Majesty. Of course," he and the Hylian went to their knees before him. "This is Falma of King's Way. Three weeks ago, he attests, this warrior entered his shop of trinkets, found a necklace that pleased her, and then demanded it for less than a fifth of its price. He refused. She grew irate and drew steel against him. When his son tried to get between her and his father, she cut him across the hand. The wound grew festerous, and he lost the arm. He is asking for a return of the stolen property as well as recompense for attacking his son."
"And what do you have to say in your defense?" Gan addressed the Star Singer.
"The Hylians spout nothing but lies, my king. It's true, I bought some small bit of jewelry from their shop. But I paid for it fair. And then I left. Didn't think about it again until I received the court's summons." She smiled wide, and for a moment Gan saw the visage of Ashdin hidden in her features. What was their relation, exactly? A niece? A granddaughter? Close enough that the long dead matron's venom may still poison her veins.
She was lying, Gan knew it. She hardly bothered to try and hide it behind her leering grin and taunting glances to the Hylian.
"Does this Falma have anyone to corroborate his tale?" Dessi asked.
Durrell spoke with the voe, making certain to whisper so the Hylian language would not be heard within the hall. Despite his urging for quiet, the Hylian's voice carried far enough for Gan to hear every word he spoke.
"He says the assault occurred late, when he and his family were closing shop. The only witnesses were his family, the son who was cut, and his daughter who was helping clean. They are here if you wish to speak with them, though none speak Gerudo."
Gan saw a young vai and voe standing at the far end of the hall. Their wide eyes filled with fear as they watched their father. The voe had lost most of his arm judging by the emptiness of the sleeve that hung at his side.
"His family only?" Ashlo frowned. "No one unbiased, then."
"I'm afraid not, my lady."
"Then there's nothing for us to decide," Estam said. "I say we dismiss the case."
"Agreed," Ashlo said. "Waste of time."
"Dismissed then," Gan waved for Bethe to bring forth the next petitioner.
"Wait, my king," the Gerudo said. "This Hylian just bore false witness against me. I have my own rights to consider."
"The case against you is dismissed," Dessi said. "That should be enough."
"It's far from enough. King Dragmire, I invoke the law you decreed on your first week as king. If a Hylian bears false witness against a Gerudo, then their tongue is forfeit. I will have his tongue."
"My king," Durrell said. "I must protest. We have determined that there is not enough evidence to declare guilt. That doesn't mean he has spoken-"
"Quiet," the Twinrova commanded.
"This is what we warned."
"The Hylians must be reminded of their place."
"Too lenient, too forgiving."
"They must remember to fear you."
"Gan," Dessi stood from her chair and walked before him. "I know this one, her name is Maike, goes by the Thunder's Call. She assaulted three servants within these halls when last she visited. I had to throw her out personally. And there are stories that she took liberties when you ordered the destruction of the temples to Hylia. Stories I believe. I understand we can't declare her guilt without evidence, but she is no innocent. Just give the voe a warning and let that be the end of it."
"What's happening?" the Hylian asked Durrell.
"Tell the fool to be silent."
"He must not sully these halls with those words."
"Commander Desquesza," Estam said. "Vile she may be, but the laws are the laws. We cannot be shown to break our own rules when convenient, just because we dislike the accuser."
"Am I not found innocent?" Maike asked. "I am guiltless of one crime; therefore, I am the victim of another. I only ask for justice, my king."
"I don't understand. What about my son?"
"See? Speaking out of turn."
"Please, goodman, be quiet while I sort this out. My king, perhaps we can declare this a separate trial and place it at the back of the cases. Give everyone time to cool."
"They do not fear you as they should."
"Gan, this isn't justice."
THE HYLIANS DESERVE FAR WORSE FOR THEIR CRIMES.
"Bethe," Gan silenced the chattering voices. "That voe has declared false witness against a Gerudo. See he is dealt with appropriately."
She saluted then grabbed the man's head.
"What are you…? Get off! What-" He struggled as Bethe forced his mouth open. But no merchant could match Bethmasse.
Still kneeling, Durrell clenched his eyes shut. At the far end of the hall, two children screamed for their father. But loudest of all was his mothers joy, ringing in his ears, and the echo of their laughter that reveled in his own mind.
When the deed was done, Bethe ordered two guards to drag him from the halls and Estam called for servants to clean up the mess.
Gan watched the moaning man stumble away between the arms of two guards. His children quickly ran to his side. Both in tears, and the voe's empty sleeve flapping as they moved. Proof enough of the terrors this family had already faced. The crowd parted for them as they left the hall and the castle. Sorrow filled every Hylian's eyes, some even wept for them.
His throat was dry, and a foul taste formed in the back of his throat. Why did I do that?
"Stand," Bethe rasped at Durrell as she brought the next petitioners forward.
The voe rose, but for the first time in years, Gan saw those eyes again. Those cursed haunted eyes. Sorrow and hatred and fear and defiance all twisted together and pointed at him. As sharp as any arrow. A failure's eyes, a king's eyes, always accusing him.
THEY SHOULD BE PLUCKED OUT
Gan took a moment to breathe and quelled that dark side of him. "Well?" he said to a peasant family that quivered before him. "State your business, I don't have all day."
Another hour went by, then another, and another. How many cases he heard, he could not say. Most he left to his councilors to determine. He kept himself distracted as best he could, watching the movement of guards, or the way the servants filed about the far corners of the hall. But no matter where he looked, he was drawn to the eyes of the crowd.
He glanced at his hand and the symbol hidden beneath his skin. Strange, isn't it? With a thought, he could tear this castle down. From the mightiest tower to the deepest cellar. Why stop there? Every foot of Castle Town could collapse, at least it would silence all these people, and close all those eyes.
He could start again. Make it better this time.
A clamor at the far side of his hall drew his attention back to the world. Gan watched as the crowds made way for a city guard, the armored voe stopped and spoke to the marshal. He could not have gotten out more than a sentence or two before the marshal sprinted down the hall.
He brushed past a Hylian noblewoman who prattled on in broken Gerudo about some issue with her neighbor and a dammed river.
"My king," he lowered himself to his knee. "It is my pleasure to inform you and your council that the commander has arrived at the city gates."
"So, the failure returns."
"Is this when you finally break the millstone around your neck?"
"Correct one of our few mistakes."
Gan rose. "That is the end of today's open court. Marshal, see that the commander is brought to my chambers the moment she enters the castle grounds."
"But, my king," Ashlo said, "this one will be over quick. We can have it solved in a moment."
"I said I am done. Bethe clear the hall. Durrell put the rest of the petitioners on the list for the next court."
"But my-" the Hylian started to say before she squeaked and bowed as he walked past her.
Some other mutters filled the hall as the people realized they had wasted their day for nothing. Perhaps that would motivate them to solve their own problems.
He made his way to the tallest tower. Once Liotidos, who the low people now called the Failed, lived here with his daughter. But since his ascension, he'd fixed this tower to better serve his needs. He'd knocked down several of the inner walls, he had no need for a room for children. Instead, he created a wide singular room where he could practice his magic away from prying eyes.
Weapons lined one wall, with art from the desert on the other. Maps and books lay strewn across desks, and a few chairs sat between a couple tables. Above the back wall, enshrined in a glass case sat the Sacred Jewels, safe from even the most cunning Sheikah.
But his favorite part of this grand chamber sat at the far wall. It had taken months to bring the pipes from the temple and weave them into the stonework, but it had been worth it. For many hours he'd sat at the organ, now fitted perfectly for his size, and let the music comfort him.
He went to the instrument and played as he waited, letting the music wipe away the howls of rage and the visions of eyes filled with hate. Of all the many changes he made to this kingdom, this organ may be his favorite. Even more than the ever-delayed aqueduct and the peace he forged through blood. He knew those were better, more important. But they were distant things, lofty things, he could not touch them at the end of a long day. Dreams and ideals could not soothe him from the burdens of rule.
The door behind him creaked open and light steps trod toward him. Gan finished up the final few chords before he turned to see Nabooru.
"Don't stop on my account," she said as she flopped into one of the unused chairs. "Always enjoyed hearing you play."
"If you'd won, I'd play you an entire symphony." He rose from the bench and found the chair opposite her. "What happened?"
"Not much to tell. He led me around by my nose for months and then he beat me."
"How? I gave you the largest army either of us has ever commanded. You should have been able to drown him in bodies if necessary."
"Perhaps I was overcautious, then."
"You?" Gan shook his head. "Give all the details then."
"Didn't your pet Sheikah tell you everything already?"
"I'd rather hear it from you. Sidaj is an excellent tool, but she knows little about war."
"Very well." She sighed and looked at her hands. "The old man still has some tricks up his sleeve. His raiders managed to get around Konoru's forces. He hit my reserves and sent his cavalry striking my infantry from behind. Whole battle didn't last more than a few hours."
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"And what did you do when your line started to fold? Where were you positioned?"
"West of the field, I had some cavalry."
"And you didn't rally anyone? Make a countercharge? Anything?"
She shrugged.
"Were you engaged with the enemy infantry already? Or some token force of cavalry distracted you?"
"No."
"Then what?"
She shrugged again.
"That's not an answer. You need to help me understand. I've read the reports, I scried the field the day after the battle, and I listened to my agents. None of it I can make sense of. The terrain and size of the army were both in your favor. You even had Konoru with you. Victory should have been assured."
"As I said, the old man knows his business."
"That is not enough."
She shrugged, for the last time.
"Our people are dying!" Gan slammed his fist upon the table between them. The wood shattered and it split to the ground. Nabooru pulled her feet away from the debris but did not reel from him in fear, as anyone else would have done.
SHE MEANT FOR THEM TO WIN.
SHE IS BETRAYING YOU AS SHE BETRAYS EVERYONE.
Gan stood up and paced around the back of the room. He clenched his fist and took a deep breath, trying to quell those dark thoughts. "Every moment that throat-slit old voe lives he pulls our attention and resources away from the aqueduct. And the slower we progress the more of our sisters perish to the creeping sands. All those who followed you into battle believing they had the great Nabooru in command, you left behind in the mud of defeat. Don't you care?"
"Of course I do. But my misery doesn't change my failings."
"What am I going to do with you?"
Nabs stared at him and he saw the true weariness in her. But at least she didn't look afraid, or hateful.
"That wasn't rhetorical."
"I don't know, Gan."
"I tried to send you away from this place that caused you so much torment. Back home, where you would be granted every honor among our people. You would speak with my voice and be treated as the greatest authority in the land. And what did you do? Disappear for months at a time, doing The Three only knows. And when you did deem it important enough to fulfill your duties you made every effort to become despised by all the Matrons in the Oasis."
"I've never been much for dealing with those old crones."
"Agreed. So, what's your excuse for when I placed you in charge of the construction? The constant delays, your handling of the mason's guild, that business with the paymasters. A child could have run them better. Now with Arlan, I thought, at last, something for you to do that plays to your strengths. Let Commander Nabooru face a war again, a real challenge. That's where you were always at your best."
"My best is long gone, Gan. I don't have it anymore. The drive to fight, to kill. I lost it."
Gan returned to his seat. "Then let me help you find it again. I hate seeing this…this… emptiness in you."
"Nothing you can do about that." She gave a sad smile. "You can't solve everything."
"Yes, I can." Gan put his chin on his hand as he thought. "I will need to gather a new army. The longer I wait to put Harlow Arlan in the ground, the more trouble he'll cause. And then there's news from Death Mountain of trouble brewing with the Gorons."
"Is One-Arm not handling it?"
"He's dead."
That brought some life into her features. It was not much, but surprise was still an emotion. "How?"
"Don't know, yet. But the whispers coming down the mountain are strange."
"I'm not going to go kill Gorons for you. I said, Gan. I don't have it in me anymore."
"I'm not asking you to. I want you to stay here."
"Here? What could I possibly do here?"
"Rule."
And her surprise only grew. "What? Why?"
"I need someone to run the heart of my kingdom. And you're still the one I trust more than anyone else, Nabs. I need you."
"Gan, 'every tool has its purpose, every person their place' remember? By the sands I'm quoting your mothers. What makes you think I'd be any better at running Castle Town than I was at handling the Matrons? I'm not built for politics."
"Because if anyone here causes you any trouble, I'll grant you permission to deal with them however you see fit. No trying to balance the egos of the old vai set in their ways. These Hylians won't cause a fuss. They're no longer used to getting their way."
"They'll all hate me."
"Good, perhaps that'll remind you why we spilled so much blood to conquer this place." Let someone else face their scorn. "You were always better at beating discipline into people than I. You'll handle their hatred and pay it back tenfold, I've no doubt."
"Then why not Bethe? She's the best at that."
"I need someone with judgment as well. But I think I'll leave her with you. You'll need someone loyal at your side."
If his words convinced her, she did not show it. "I have no idea how to run the largest, most populace city in the world."
Gan chuckled. "Who does?"
"I'd be a terrible fit."
"I don't think so. I owe you everything I have, you're still the one I trust more than anyone else. You'll rise to the occasion."
"What makes you so certain that I'm still that person? You just listed all the times I failed to do just that."
"Because I know you, better than anyone. You haven't gone weak or turned a fool. You just need a reminder of how important our work is. If army life didn't jog your mind, perhaps the royal one will. There's still strength in you. And I will do everything to help you find it."
She brushed at her braid as she had since they were children. "I'll have free reign, to do whatever I please?"'
"Unless I visit you with orders directly."
"What of your mothers?"
"They're on my council. They have some official duties I-"
"No, Gan. If they remain in this city, I will leave it."
"Then they will be gone. You'll need to find replacements for them, and the Castellan of the Castle."
Nabs frowned. "Why? Who's that."
"Dessi. If I don't have you or Bethe, I want her as my second when I break Arlan. So, you'll do it?"
He knew her answer before she spoke. When he was at his lowest, she brought him through the darkness. Though that part of his mind howled, what kind of a person would he be, if he did not do the same for her? Somehow over the years, his sister lost her way. And even if it took this entire foul city, he would get his sister back.