Chapter 76: The Weight of Guilt

The army marched forth from the city square, with Gan and his new guard riding at its head. They held so many new faces who looked almost like children to Nabs. All about them, the crowds cheered. Gerudo and Hylian alike threw flowers down over the soldiers and gave calls for glory. But no sooner had the king left the people's sight; did half of those gathered fall silent. Soon only those of the desert gave their trilling song, joined by some polite claps from those standing with her on the dais.

Nabooru yawned and stretched her arms. "Well, that was exciting."

"Indeed, sister," Ashlo agreed, which was about all that the daughter of Konoru was good for. Nabs had never liked the Sandstorm - didn't trust her. The months together on campaign hunting down Arlan only made the dislike grow deeper. But at least Matron Konoru had a brain in her head. "The king's speech was most riveting, wasn't it, Estam?"

"If you say so," Estam shrugged. "In truth, since I was given my position, all I see during these events is the cost. But at least we can hope this army fairs better than the last." She smiled at Nabooru. If there was one person in Gan's council that Nabooru wished to speak to less than Ashlo it would be Estam. Excepting the crones, of course. Did the treasurer think her words clever? She accomplished nothing by reminding Nabooru of her defeat while announcing to the world she was not an ally. Besides, what accomplishment did she have to show for herself that wasn't given to her because of her mother's name?

Still, she must work with the people she had.

"What else is there today?"

Ashlo shrugged. "Nothing as far as I'm concerned. What say you to a small feast in the king's honor? And your ascension as well."

"A feast?" Estam sighed. "Wonderful idea."

"Not a big one. Just some of the more important people at court."

"We've had one celebration for the day, I don't think a feast is what's needed. I meant more what needs to be done for the city."

"Heh, looking to take my job too?" Ashlo laughed.

When Nabooru didn't return her humor, the mayor's face went red as she gestured toward one of the Hylians. "You there, go find Durrell. No- there he is. Durrell! Get over here."

The lanky voe ended his conversation with a few Hylians and walked toward the three of them. He went down to his knee and bowed his head. "How may I serve-"

"Get up," Nabs said. "And stop being ridiculous."

"Nabooru," Estam gave her a thin-lipped smile, "you may not be comfortable with the arrangement, but our king has decreed that if any Hylian should speak to their betters, they should be suitably obsequious."

"Gan isn't here, I am."

The voe hadn't moved, instead looking between Nabs and Estam.

"I don't like repeating myself, voe."

Durrell rose to his feet but still bowed his head. "If I have given you some offense, I apologize, Regent Nabooru. Please note, I do not mean to insult you."

"The only way you'll insult me is if you continue to prefer looking at the ground rather than my eyes."

Slowly, he raised his head.

"I'm not repeating this conversation with every Hylian working in the castle. Spread the word among the others, all that groveling is finished. Now, Mayor Ashlo here has a question for you."

"Ahh, uhh, yes." She cleared her throat. "The commander wishes to know of any matters of state that will need her immediate attention."

"Of course," he bowed to her.

"Durrell," Nabs growled. "What did I just say?"

"I'm sorry regent," he froze, stuck halfway between taking another bow and looking at her straight on. "I- I don't-"

Ashlo started laughing at his discomfort, and Estam's false smile seemed to grow close to genuine.

"You're delaying the commander, Durrell," Estam said. "There has to be some punishment for wasting all our time, I can think of."

"There is nothing else planned for today, commander. The King preferred to spend his afternoons alone, away from court attending to his own matters. I should have spoken to you earlier to determine your preferred hours of activity. I apologize and hope you can forgive this error along with any others you found in my performance of my duties today."

"But there are matters to attend to, are there not?"

"Of course. I must, again, apologize. I don't have all of them memorized and did not bring any notes to the ceremony. However, I know of several meetings of various officials the king has delayed for some time. I noticed Master Grenki of the Fuller's Guild in the street. He has been asking for an audience for some months. I could send a messenger to fetch him for you if you desire. There is also a series of letters and requests that have piled up, which should be gone through when you have a moment. Though, I would say the most pressing matters of all would be to find replacements for the Castellan of the castle, as well as the Honored Matrons Koume and Kotake."

"There's little 'honored' about them. What were their positions? No one ever mentions their titles."

"As far as I'm aware, they were never given official positions at court, but they, in essence, took over the duties of the Lord High Justicar, High Chaplain, and Lord Secretary, all while being a part of the King's inner confidence."

"And what do those positions do?"

"Well, the High Chaplain, of course, looks after the king's chapel, though I will admit it has gone into somewhat of a disarray these last years."

"We Gerudo have little use for a place to worship Hylia. What of the others?"

"The Lord Secretary is in charge of holding the king's seal and managing his correspondence. They are meant to bring important letters to his attention."

"But these letters have piled up, as you said."

"They have. Then the Lord High Justicar oversees writing the laws and decrees of the king down and presenting them to the kingdom."

"Don't you do that? I've never seen them pick up a quill in my life."

"I do take note of the king's decrees and see that they're distributed as he wills, but I am not the official in charge of writing them down."

"Sands take me. Then what did they do?"

"Well, several things. Most important, they are supposed to look over the decrees and make certain that nothing interferes with prior agreements and laws of the land. Check for precedence old treaties, and the like."

"Those old crones never did that either. They don't care about old agreements and even less about precedent."

"Well, no. Mostly, they would inform me if the king made a law while I was not present. And after official statements of the crown were written, they would look them over to make certain that it matched the intended desires of the monarch."

"You mean they dug their little claws in so everything from the castle matched their desires."

"Regent Nabooru," Ashlo said. "Perhaps it is best not to so demean the king's choice in councilors before one such as this voe."

"Why not? He'll hear me call them far worse than that soon enough. Well sisters, we now have our task for the day. I want you both to bring me your personal list of recommendations for the positions. I expect them before supper."

"That is only giving us a few hours," Ashlo's voice rose like a disappointed child.

"It will take some time to form such a list," Estam agreed. "There are so many aspects to consider, qualities to measure. The political ramifications alone can be a tangle. We can't raise one Matron's people higher than another's or we may offend someone important back in the Oasis."

"I don't care about any of that. Just bring me a list of people you think are qualified and will do the job well."

"But regent!-" Ashlo said.

Estam silenced her with a wave and a smile. "We shall provide you the lists. If you would excuse us, Regent Nabooru, we have our work ahead of us."

"Dismissed then." As the pair headed toward the castle, Nabs turned back toward the voe. "You, Durrell. I'm not done with you. Go find that Master Gramko or whatever you said his name is."

"Master Grenki, Lady Regent," he bowed.

"I will throw you off the battlements if you do that again. Go!"


When Nabooru stretched out her legs her toes barely scraped the floor. She needed a new chair and a new desk. Gan's were far too large for her, too large for anyone. She felt like a child squirming on an adult's saddle.

"And that leaves only Ferrosi of the Mill Wraiths," Estam droned on. "A member of a relatively small clan, I admit. But the Mill Wraiths are growing in prominence, especially after that salt vein they've found. Give them another decade or two and I expect they'll be regarded higher than the Well Walkers. Providing one of them with the position may smooth the transition of power from one clan to the other with minimal bloodshed."

"But will she be suitable as the Justicar? Does she know anything about Hylian laws?"

"She's a clever vai, I'm sure she'll learn."

"Thank you, sister. Put your list besides Ashlo's, I'll consider your recommendations."

She put the paper on the desk and Bethe opened the door for her to leave.

Nabs picked up the paper and looked over the list of names. So many, and only half she remembered the treasurer mentioning. What was Gan thinking making her his regent? She did not have the temperament for all this paperwork. She'd almost throttled that Master Grenko or whatever just because of the way he spoke. An awful high-pitched whine that set her teeth on edge. He hadn't even done anything wrong, and she wanted to punch him.

She needed to do better.

"Can I ask you a favor, sister?" She said as she set down the parchment.

"Hmm?" Bethe grunted.

"If you see me looking like I'm about to go for someone's throat, or I don't know, fall asleep during one of those tedious meetings, would you prod me with that spear of yours?"

"I might draw blood."

"Well don't skewer me, but I'm not worried about a little cut."

Bethe smiled; her now misaligned jaw made the gesture look almost painful.

"There's my sister," Nabs said. "Ever since I've returned, I keep hearing mutters about how dour and grim you've become."

"I was never the funny one."

"But you knew how to smile at least. Sit down, Bethe."

"I'm on duty."

"I can order you if it makes you feel better. But I'd rather just talk to my friend who I haven't seen in years."

"Perhaps when the next shift of guards occurs, we can speak as friends then."

"And when is that?"

"Nightfall."

Nabooru leveled her gaze at Bethe. "Sister. Sit. Please."

The big warrior sighed, took the chair that Estam had previously sat upon, and dragged it to the side of the desk where she could still watch the door.

"Who do you think is going to come breaking in? Even if you weren't beside me, I still know how to use my sword."

"That's not what I heard," she said as she sat. Then she frowned. "Was that too far? I've never been good at judging that."

"No, it was perfect," Nabs smiled and shook her head. "I got trounced, good and rightly. It's best if we can joke at it."

"You never used to like when the jokes turned on you."

"We all change, I suppose." She stretched out her arms and neck. They could reminisce after the work was done. "Tell me, sister, what do I need to know about this city I'm supposed to rule?"

Bethe shrugged.

Nabs sighed. "I'll try to be more specific, then. What do you make of your fellow councilors?"

"It's good that the Twinrova are gone. Estam is competent, has a head for numbers, but not as clever as she thinks she is."

"I caught that myself."

"Ashlo on the other hand. She is smart."

"Really?" Nabs frowned. "I thought her a bore. Her grand idea on how to get started working was to throw a feast."

"You thought that of me when I joined Gan's guard. Boszura and you once said I had the wit of a Molduga."

"That was different. You barely spoke and spent every day cleaning your spear instead of being with the rest of us."

"I was awestruck. I didn't want to disappoint our king."

"Fine, I'm a horrible judge of character. But what proof have you that Ashlo has more than camel dung between her ears?"

"The Sandstorm sent her instead of her other daughters for a reason. She tries to appear less than she is. But I know she has her own supporters placed around the city, even among my city watch. She keeps herself well-informed, then plays simple and surprised."

"I'll keep an eye out for her, then. What of the voe? Durrell."

"He's Hylian."

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed." Nabs rolled her eyes. "But what do you make of him?"

"He's knowledgeable, but he is only as loyal as he is afraid. Where it up to me, he should have been executed when Harlow Arlan first marched against us."

"Bethe, he was a child."

"He picked up a sword during the assault on the castle. What difference does it make if he died in the battle or after?"

"It's not the same."

"So you say, but I doubt the dead agree."

"We'll never gain their loyalty if we kill children."

"We'll never get their loyalty if we don't. Not even if we were all as kind as Matron Bulira. Not until everyone who lived under the last king perishes and their children know no other rulers but us."

"That can't be the only way."

"What other way is there? We can call him Beramus the Fool all we want, but to the Hylians he is Beramus the Betrayed, and we are the traitors."

"But we are traitors."

The two women fell into silence. Nabooru cursed herself. She had been having a pleasant conversation with a dear friend. Why speak now, after years of keeping her mouth shut? Yet, Bethmasse did not glare at her in outrage or anger. If anything, she looked as forlorn as Nabs felt.

"You ever think about it?" Nabs asked. "That night, after everything you lost, all our friends who fell, was it worth it in the end?"

Bethe frowned and looked down at her gloved hand and clenched her fingers into a fist before she moved them all much like Gan playing his organ. As if she was still testing if her arm worked.

"Yes," Bethe said, the word offered no room for argument. Even with her brow now lopsided from the blow to her temple and her jaw that healed crooked, Nabs knew she'd have given even more if Gan asked.

"I wish I had your resolve, sister." Nabs cleared her throat. "What of the missing council positions? Do you have any suggestions?"

Bethe looked confused and glanced at the parchments left behind by Ashlo and Estam. "Have the others not provided you enough options?"

"What these?" Nabs tapped on the lists and frowned. "I'm not going to use anyone named here."

"Then why ask for them?"

"I wanted to know who was in Estam and Ashlo's purse. I figured they'd only suggest people loyal to them."

Bethe paused a moment, then a smile slowly spread across her features. "In that case, I have a few ideas of my own."

They worked for long hours, well past the call for supper. Bethmasse would list some names and Nabs would write them down. Then they'd discuss each one, measuring their talents against each other.

"And what of this one?" Nabs failed to stifle her yawn. "Risa the Flame Dancer?"

"She's solid," Bethe said. "Loyal. Took a wound when we rooted out the Zora."

"We're not looking for warriors. Does she know how to manage a castle? Keep servants disciplined and the accounts sorted."

"She was a slave driver before she took up arms. A successful one too. She knows how to handle accounts and keep people in line."

Nabs made a grim face. She knew well that some of the tribes made their living off slavery. But it had never sat right with her. During the Civil War, Gan and she made excuses for them. When you rode into enemy spears, the sins of your allies were far from your mind. They were always something to solve later, once the more dangerous matters were attended to.

But later somehow never arrived.

She scratched out Risa's name.

"Scant list," Bethe observed.

Nabs shrugged. "We only need three." She put the parchment down and rubbed her eyes. "We'll continue tomorrow if you're willing to aid me."

"Of course, regent." Bethe stood and saluted her. "It's good to have you back."

"I missed you too, sister. You're dismissed for the night."

"I won't be relieved for another hour."

"I wish to be alone now. And I don't want anyone hovering over my shoulder everywhere I go or listening at my door. Tell whoever's after you they get a night to themselves."

"Nabs, you haven't been in the city for long. It is best if you have someone with you. The Hylians may look weak, but they're not as-"

"I know how to take care of myself. I had Sheikah trying to kill Gan and me when we were children. I can handle the glares of servants and the whispers of cowards."

"They're far more dangerous than that."

"I am regent, Bethe. If I say I don't want any of your clanking guards around me for the night, then I best not see any."

Bethmasse frowned but nodded. "I'll see to it."


Nabooru used to hate how loud and crowded Castle Town had been. Always with people running about, making noise, and smelling of filth. And you couldn't go anywhere without a hand on your rupee purse. But now it felt empty and lifeless as a grave. Just past nightfall and the streets were barren, the Hylians who still dwelled in the houses kept quiet. They knew good and well to hide behind locked doors and shuttered windows when a Gerudo prowled the streets at night.

The silence did offer her some benefit. No one dared disturb her as she marched down the cobblestone streets, no one asked why she held a flower in her hand. She did not stop until she reached one dim-lit alley, which to all the rest of the world looked much the same as any of a hundred others scattered across the city.

She stepped over where she once found him and sat down, leaning her back against the wall.

"It's been a while," she said. "Gan's gone. Left me in charge. You should have seen the procession when he left. I swear Bethe must've gathered the crowd and threatened people to cheer. You'd have hated it."

She laid the flower from the castle gardens beside her.

"I didn't mean to stay away for so long. That plan I spoke of before I left for home? It didn't work. I don't know how the pieces disappeared, but I expect the witches had their hand in it. Then Gan sent me to hunt down Duke Arlan. He's still around by the way. The Duke, I mean. Routed my forces." She sighed. "You'll want to know if I let him win. I don't know. Maybe? I could have done more, but when isn't that true? Perhaps I'm only second-guessing myself. I never used to do that. Everything was always so clear."

She fiddled with the pebbles strewn out before her. After seven years all signs of blood and violence had been washed away. Yet she still saw it when she closed her eyes. "I know none of this matters. Your people don't believe the ancestors watch over us. And even if you can hear me, I know you'd never be able to forgive me, but-"

The words didn't come out. She swallowed and felt the lump clear her throat. Why was she like this? After seven years, she should be able to keep her emotions in check. Perhaps if she had someone living to speak to. But Bulira never left the desert anymore. She had her clan to look after. And what would she say to her sisters? That she hated their greatest victory? That if asked to do it all over again she would never have left her mother's side, never opened the gates, never put her hand on a blade.

How can you tell your dearest friends, if you could, you'd betray them all? "If I did anything else, I'd be speaking to Gan now then, wouldn't I?"

She sat there for some hours, recalling the events of the last few years. What news Bulira sent, the progress made on the aqueduct, even Arlan's tactics, and the army he'd gathered. The more she spoke, the emptier she felt.

Of course I do, I'm speaking to nothing but air. I should get back, enough wasting time. They'll be expecting me in the morning.

Yet she did not move. She was being ridiculous, she knew. Why waste time in the dirt? A bed waited for her in the castle and would provide more comfort than silent ghosts.

"I'm sorry." Resting her head against the wall, she closed her eyes and dreamed of him.