Chapter 32: Between Two Masters
The Lizalfos reached toward the deer carcass, as his clutchmates tore through it. Nothing happened. Only then did he remember he no longer had his arm. It had been over a month since he lost it, and Rithfus still had not grown used to its absence. Perhaps he never would. May misery consume the boy. May he grow skinny and sickly and never have enough to eat. May the fae that follows him turn trickster upon his mind.
Some of the other Lizalfos watched him wave the stump of his arm toward the meat. They hissed to themselves. Rithfus snarled at them, then grabbed at the food with his left claw and tore some of the meat away. Even with one arm, he could hurt them. Make them understand he was not prey. He could still kill.
But he could not win, not anymore. Not even against one of them, unless it was quick and surprising. Cut a throat before they could react. But he would always be the lowest in the tribe. The weakest. All it would take is one hungry night, and they'd devour him as readily as they did the deer.
He stuffed the meat down his throat. Enough to keep his strength up, but never enough to be truly full. He did not know if he had ever been full in his life. Full was for the biggest and strongest, those that could demand more food and fight off those that would take it from them. Perhaps he would have become one of them as he got older. Some in his clutch had grown strong why couldn't he have as well? And you only needed to grow a little stronger than the others. Just enough that they don't want to fight you when you take more than your share. And if you take more of the food you will grow even stronger.
Little chance of that now, with only one arm. Even those weaker and smaller could challenge him and win. He'd never become the biggest or strongest. He waited for everyone else to take two more mouthfuls of the carcass before he tore off a second piece and swallowed it before anyone could object. No one did, this time. But other days food would not be as plentiful. Then he would go hungry or worse.
He'd known some who fled the tribes in his condition. Risking dying alone to avoid the hungry bellies of the others. But they never survived long alone.
From beyond the fire, someone shuffled closer to them. Another Lizalfos, her bronze scales turning a sickly gray at the tips. Her frame was thin, even thinner than Rithfus's had become, and it was easy to see why. She was small with a crooked leg. Either twisted at birth or through some struggle. How had she survived this long?
"I see you have more food," her tongue flickered out, tasting the air around the fresh meal. "Do you have any to spare? I have not eaten today."
"Away!" shouted Sressith as he stood up. By far the largest of the Lizalfos at the fire. He would get enough to eat. "We already are feeding one too weak to hunt. No more." He grabbed at a leg of the deer and tore it from the rest of the carcass. The limb had strips and bite marks taken from it already, but Sressith shoved all that remained in his mouth, crunching through flesh and bone. He towered over the female as he sloppily devoured the leg before her.
"I hunger," the female said, lowering her head. "I do not need much."
"I said away!" Sressith swung around, whipping his tail at the female. It hit her in the side and sent her flying. She struck the rocks, bounced and rolled out of the firelight. And only her moans and hisses of pain remained.
Unfortunate Sressith ran off that one. It would be good to have someone weaker than him in the tribe. Still, he joined the others as they hissed at her to ward the female away.
"You should be silent," Sressith told him when he returned to sit with the others. "You should be in the dark with her. You did not hunt for the deer that fills our bellies. You did not make the fire that warms us. You do not fight to kill our enemies. Not anymore."
"I should be here, because King Dodongo placed me here. If you wish me gone, go tell him."
Sressith snarled but did nothing more than take another large piece of the kill. Rithfuss thought of taking more himself, just to infuriate the self-proclaimed clutch-leader. Perhaps it would make Sressith do something stupid. Maybe he would complain to King Dodongo and get eaten himself. But more likely, he would simply attack Rithfus. What good is another piece of meat if you break a bone for it? He had eaten two fistfuls of fresh meat today. That was better than most.
The light of the fire went dim, as did the stars in the sky and the glowing moon.
"What is that?" Another of the clutch asked, as she backed away from the fire.
"He is coming," Rithfus touched the back of his head, where the new king marked him with a painful shock.
Sressith snarled again, but this one felt empty. A sign of his dominance that no one believed. Rithfus could smell the fear on him. On all of them. They knew what his coming meant. Would this be the day Rithfus displeased his new master? Will this be the day he sends magic to burn through him until there is nothing left? Not even to eat.
A darkness deeper than all the night sky tore the air before them and out stepped their king. But he was not truly there. He never was. Rithfus' tasted the air, nothing but the scales of lizards, the burned wood, and the wet flesh of the deer. Yet knowing that provided Rithfus no relief. His eyes did not agree with his nose and tongue, which made his limbs tense. Run, his body screamed at him.
Instead, he bowed low to the phantom, as did the rest of the clutch.
The King of Gerudo, Moblin, Lizalfos, Dodongo, and Octarok looked upon them with eyes of blue flame that burned within a skull mask. "Leave us."
The other Lizalfos fled, Sressith the fastest of the lot. Did the others notice? Unlikely, but perhaps it could be used to oust him as the clutch leader if necessary. Find someone less aggressive and stupid.
When the other lizards were out of earshot, the image of King Dragmire spoke. "Soon, the host of Gerudo and the Gorons will head for the Crown. We will arrive in three days. Then we will have a battle. What progress has been made?"
Rithfus breathed deep, it was difficult getting Hylian words to come from his mouth. His tongue did not wish to shape itself to hit the sounds they made, nor did his lips form the words. But if he concentrated, he could get most of it sounding right. "Your small raids were… good. We have found the entrance to the Crown."
"That is what I'm looking for. Do you know their numbers?"
"Not many. But-" Rithfus stretched his jaw to get the shape right. "Does not matter. One could hold the entrance against many. Assaulting the Crown is suicide."
"As expected. Tell King Dodongo to attack the Crown in three days. When our forces arrive, have him fall back, about face and start to fight us. His main army should engage the Gorons, they will be stationed on his flank. While my Gerudo will be on the right. Closest to the entrance to the Crown. There will be violence between our armies, that cannot be helped. But I will sound a steady retreat. It will appear as though you are victorious. When that happens the Gorons in the Crown will try to save their Chief. They will abandon their positions to attack you in the rear. Do you understand?"
"Yes. We prepare for them. Without their walls, and with no surprise they will be weak. King Dodongo will crush them as he will the Crown and take the Ruby you desire."
"After that, his army will retreat, safely. There will be no more need for them on the mountain. And he will bring the Ruby to me."
It was clever. That was one thing that Rithfus had to acknowledge with their new king. He may be a filthy Gerudo, without scales and no claws, but he was smart. Rithfus wondered how many meals he had torn away from those that served him to grow so tall and strong. But that was the way of life. You eat or you are eaten. The small serve the large and take the scraps they can.
With King Dragmire, Rithfus knew he followed one of the strongest in the world. But he had seen no scraps so far.
"Now, the other task I gave you, is it done?"
"I am sorry, my king. But one does not lay their hands upon King Dodongo. I have tried but was always stopped." He did mention it was his fear that stopped his hand from reaching out.
"This is your last chance. When you deliver my orders for the upcoming battle, you will touch him. I do not care how. I do not care if it costs you your other arm. You will do it, or you will be of no further use to me. I can always find another message bearer."
"I will see it done," Rithfus bowed once more. But even if your master is the strongest, one is always one misstep away from a claw to the throat. Such is life for the weak.
The skull head nodded, then darkness surrounded it, and the king was gone. The light of the fire grew brighter, and Rithfus could once again see the stars. The others would return to the fire and flesh. But until they did, the food lay right there in front of him.
He carved off three more pieces of meat and devoured them as quick as he could. Scampering away before the others could stop him.
The Dodongo had their own camps with their own fires and their own slaves to tend to them. Most of them Lizalfos, though some few Moblins and even Hylians served the mighty lizards. No Gerudo slaves remained with the lizard host, though Rithfus knew they once existed. Dodongo may not be smart, but their king knew not to displease their new master. Rithfus had not heard what happened to the captive desertfolk, but he suspected whatever became of them would displease King Dragmire.
Of all the fires, King Dodongo's was the largest and brightest. His slaves gathered wood and dropped them into the pyre. Charred bones crackled within. Had King Dodongo pushed someone in, or had one of the slaves fallen and no one cared to retrieve them? A waste of meat.
The King of all Lizards lounged by his fire, lying on his side. His belly pointed toward the flames. King Dodongo opened his mouth, and a Moblin that sat beside him tossed a wild pig carcass into his jaws. With a crunch of bone, the animal disappeared down the king's throat. Heat radiated from him, almost as hot as the grand pyre. All the Dodongo lived like this. Even the weakest among them ate better than the mightiest of Lizalfos. And King Dodongo ate most of all. It made him massive, the largest of all the lizardfolk. His scales tougher than Hylian armor, his claws sharper than Gerudo arrows. He could eat an entire Lizalfos with one snap of his jaw. And had to those who displeased him.
This is what power looks like. Power Rithfus would never have. But how glorious it must be. To never work, never fear, never grow hungry. To squash and bite whatever displeased you. Contentment.
As Rithfus approached, King Dodongo took notice of him.
"One-Arm, did he speak with you again?" He spoke in grunts and roars and the releasing of odors. The language that none but other lizards seemed to understand. To the Gerudo and Hylians the Dodongo must look like wild animals, roaring and growling at everything. But even though their strength made them fools, Rithfus knew they were not animals. He could smell the disdain that laced the king's words.
"He did. He gave me orders for our battle. In three days, we assault the Crown."
"He gave you orders," the Dodongo snarled. "He gave me orders, you mean. He did not speak to me. He did not ask for my guidance. He did not see how my army moves or what they need. He only gives orders. Through you."
Anger poured from him. And of course, it did, King Dodongo ruled, he did not obey. One does not live their life feasting as they wish to enjoy taking the scraps offered by the stronger. He did enjoy living as a Lizalfos.
"I am sorry, my king," Rithfus bowed even lower. Until his belly touched the ground like some unintelligent iguana. "But I am only the messenger. I do not mean to offend."
"I know how little you mean, but you offend just the same. Your humility is the only reason I allow you to speak." The massive creature took a deep breath, small spouts of flame came from his nostrils. He seemed to decide something, he rolled from his side onto his feet and shook himself. "Walk with me, One-Arm."
"Of course, my king." Rithfus scrambled to his feet as he followed the king away from the fires and the slaves. He kept his head low and made certain every pore of him signaled subjugation.
"You know our new master better than anyone else in my army." King Dodongo said.
His army, you mean. "I believe so, my king. But I am uncertain I truly know him."
"What do you think of your new master?" King Dodongo said.
"What am I supposed to think of him?" Rithfus said. "He spared my life." Could he touch him now? Rithfus looked around him, there were still others from the king's fire that stared at them. They would know. What if something happened? What if it cursed him in such a way it was obvious? That would get him killed. Either from King Dodongo or the others. He did not wish to be devoured.
"He has no respect for us. For our ways."
"His kind never do." But how little difference it made to anyone but you. When King Dodongo ruled alone did he ever ask his Lizalfos for their opinion? No. He ordered their obedience, threatened they would become his next meal should they disobey. One master proved much the same as the other. But he could not say that, not if he wished to continue living. They walked in silence until they were far away from all the fires.
"Did you know, he led a moblin tribe into Castle Town?"
"I had heard of it. A failure."
"They did not fail. He let them inside, hoping they would all perish. And they did. Every one of them. I knew the chief who led them. A great warrior. Bold. He planned on challenging Moqut the Thrice-Cursed himself, before our new ruler slew him.
"Your ally?"
Dodongo snorted a spout of flame. "No. But I respected him and his tribe. We traded at times, and now they are all dead. And I have no one to bring me slaves and meats from the East. And the flesh of the eastern folk is sweet and fat. Better than Gerudo or Lizalfos or hogs. And I cannot have it. All because of our new master."
"You think, he will discard us the same way?"
The King stopped and looked to the top of the Crown. "I do not know. But he does not care for us. And I mean to make certain I come out of this alive."
You will. But nothing about me. Nothing about those you consider your army.
"But how can you guarantee it, my king?"
"I have not ruled so long by strength alone." But the scent coming from him. It wasn't what Rithfus expected, it wasn't confidence and anger. It was confusion, doubt, fear.
Now, it has to be now. "I have been told to rule is difficult. To know the right path, uncertain." Rithfus reached out and let his hand rest on the side of the great creature's neck. A shock went through his hand to the king.
"Do not touch me," he snarled. His head turned to Rithfus and his jaws nipped at him.
Rithfus pulled his claws away and lowered his head. "I did not mean to offend you, my king. I am-"
"Spare me your sniveling. Tell me his battle plan, One-Arm. And I will see what I must do."