Chapter 49: Farewell to a Dream

Makeela urged her horse forward past the rest of the guard. She raised her arms high and her wild cackle filled the night air. "We're finally off that mountain!"

"Quiet," Bethe said from Gan's side. "Quiet!" She repeated loud enough for her voice to echo further than Makeela's laugh.

Ganondorf shook his head to himself as he watched his guard pass the small ridge that marked where the mountain officially ended. Though, to his eyes this ridge proved little different from the one they passed a quarter mile back or more they would pass ahead. The ground was still sloped away from the mountain. Just as it had been the last mile and would continue for a few miles more.

Who was it that decided where mountains start? Some long dead cartographer? Perhaps Chief Darunia's legendary ancestor marked the spot, and no one dared argue with him. He had slain a dragon after all. The powerful get their way.

Regardless, soldiers needed things to celebrate to keep morale high. Victories of course were the best, with good loot and pillage not far behind. But the simple pleasure of making progress would do, if needs be. A few of the others rode out after Makeela with their own calls of joy.

"Fools," Bethe muttered.

"Let them be, Bethe," Gan said.

"This is supposed to be a secret meeting. And they are supposed to be protecting their king," she shook her head again. "You are too lenient with them."

While he and his six companions left the camp in secret, that was several miles ago. Now it was too dark for any riders traveling by road, and the nearest village was too far away to hear their celebration. Besides he knew well and good what truly annoyed his friend. Her little project disappeared after the battle, or he'd died in the fighting. Gan knew better than to ask her. "We're well away from any likely ears. You take things-" Gan's mouth stretched wide into a yawn. "-too seriously, Bethe. We're safe."

"Are you tired my king?"

"When aren't I?"

She nodded. "It seems worse these days. You have been sluggish. All of us see it. Is it some new plan? I- I do not wish to impose."

"Bethe, we've fought and bled together for years. You're not imposing." Gan tried to stifle another yawn, but there are some battles that even he could not win. "It's nothing, just some foul dreams."

"My mother used to say that foul dreams were caused by drinking foul water. We should have your cooks scourged for preparing your food and drink wrong."

"Let's leave the cooks alone for now, sister. We have more pressing concerns than a fitful sleep." They rode in silence until they reached the rest of his guard, still milling about and letting their horses enjoy the first patches of grass they encountered. From there they turned away from the road and traveled West. Without further distraction, Ganondorf planned through the upcoming confrontation, what he must say, the proper tone and pitch, all the little details that turned him from Gan to King Dragmire. But his thoughts kept wandering to his dreams. Memories of old knights that fought him with bloodied swords, and Sheikah Needles that lurked in the shadows with poisoned knives.

All those who would come for him, if only they knew what he had planned. How close he came to victory over them. They would not forget and they would not forgive. The king may be fat and stupid, but Gan could see the apprehension in his eyes. No matter how he smiled or how magnanimous he made himself, Gan would always be the vile Gerudo, the King of Thieves, the murderer of his beloved queen. And the princess was even worse. A hateful little vai, who thought herself clever. She'd have him flayed if she could.

And how can I blame them for their hate? After all, I still despise them.

It did not take much longer until the scent of the lizards reached him. Far from any village or road, there was little chance of anyone stumbling upon their meeting. Nevertheless, he took his precautions. As he rode into the small crevice he whispered a spell to ward away all but the most powerful of prying eyes.

It would not last long, not unless he etched the words in the stone and solidified his ward with power. But it would last the hour, and he doubted this meeting would take that long.

"He has come," came one of the hissing voices almost in his ear. By luck alone he didn't jump in surprise. He managed to only glare at the creature, now revealed though its scales blended into the rocks around it. The Lizalfos slunk away from his eyes, lowering itself in subjugation.

"As I said he would," One-Arm drew closer to Ganondorf before prostrating himself. "We obeyed your commands, my king."

Every other Lizalfos followed his example. Twenty in total all lowered themselves so their bellies scraped against the ground. No creature in the world groveled as readily as these things. Not even Hylian peasants who lived their lives beneath the wealthy and the noble stooped so low. Though none of these lizards were Dodongo. Perhaps they thought themselves too large and loud to attend a secret meeting. Though he did not know if any survived the last battle at all. Lizalfos could sneak away in retreat, but the massive Dodongo? When the battle turned against them, where could the beasts go but against the spears?

Gan did his best to look imperious, just as his mothers taught him. Let his anger burn from his eyes, so all who saw him felt fear. These were the creatures that betrayed him. Betrayal must be handled with a harsh hand. "Can this assembly speak for all those who came to the mountain under my command?"

"Almost all," One-Arm hissed. "Some fled after the battle. Disappeared-"

"Then you have not followed my instructions. I ordered all survivors send someone to me."

One-Arm's dark emotionless eyes glanced around him, betraying some hint of fear. "We did all we could with the time allowed."

"All you could?" Ganondorf sneered. Beneath him, Storm pawed at the ground and gave an angry sounding snort. Perfect to emphasize Ganondorf's tone, by the Goddesses he had the greatest horse in all the world. "This mess is your greatest efforts? I had a plan. I gave orders. And you cowards, who crawl in the dirt like filthy animals could not be trusted to perform the simplest task. I offered you glory and purpose, and you sought my death." Magic flooded into his arm, setting it ablaze with a burst of witch-fire. "Tell me, why you should not be punished with the same treatment?"

"Because it was not us," One-Arm glanced up. "It was King Dodongo, it was all King Dodongo. He is to be blamed, he is to be punished."

"Not only him," Gan said. "He gave the order, but each of you followed him. Each of you attacked my army."

The lizards did not move, perhaps they were too frightened to respond. Good.

"It seems to me, that I have given you too much freedom. I allowed you to still follow your old leaders and group yourself in your old clans. No more. Now, I will place someone in charge, and you will treat them as if they speak with my voice." Gan looked down to One-Arm. "Stand up."

The Lizalfos' tongue flickered out, as he realized what was happening. It reeled itself back onto its legs and stared at Ganondorf.

"Of all your people, you are the one that stayed loyal to me." More that he played both sides to come out on top. Still, these creatures must see that loyalty will be rewarded as betrayal is punished. "In the days to come, he will be my mouthpiece."

"Him?" came a voice from the back of the crowd. "Sithruss is weak. Sithruss is broken. Why should we follow those too shattered to lead?"

"Who spoke?" Ganondord roared. "Which of you dared to question me?"

One of the lizards pushed himself up. He was large, almost as tall as Ganondorf, and wider around the shoulders.

"I did not tell you to stand," Ganondorf said.

The lizard froze, still half crouched. It seemed to decide something, and rose to its full height, its jaw set and it met Ganondorf's eyes. "He is weak," the lizard hissed. "Lizalfos follow the strong, that is the way of things."

There were some hisses of agreement from the creatures. Of course, that's how these beasts see the world. The strong and the weak, the predator and the prey. But physical might was not the only way to be strong, and it was time these monsters learned that lesson. It took only a look at One-Arm to see how the lizards treated their weak and wounded. When Ganondorf held him captive he had been thin, but now he looked near a skeleton. How many wounded lizards had Gan ridden over during the battle of the Crown? All abandoned by their people, discarded as if they meant nothing.

It made sense, in a way. During the harshest summers in the desert when wells went dry and the sun burned life from the few crops that remained, old mothers would offer to go hunting and never return. Those ancestors who sacrificed themselves so the clan could survive were honored above all others. But the Lizards sacrificed the weak with no respect for them at all.

That would need to change.

Ganondorf nudged Storm forward until he reached the lizard that spoke. "Tell me," he said as he slid off his mount. "Do you feel strong?"

The lizard's tongue flickered out, nearly reaching Ganondorf's face, before it snapped back behind its jaws. "I am strong. I lead my clutch."

Ganondorf placed his hand on the top of the lizard's scaly head. "I wonder, is your skin tougher than the Thrice-Cursed? Is your might greater than King Dodongo?"

The lizard's wide dark eyes flickered up to catch a glimpse of the fingers placed on his head. Slowly, one clawed hand raised. Did it truly think to challenge him?

"Well?"

The claw lowered and its head bowed. After a moment its whole body slumped just as low as all the others.

"Remember this," Gan looked out to all the gathered lizards. "If any of you should question my judgment again, or the words of my chosen vassal, remember who is strongest. Remember every day I allow you to breathe is a mercy. And he-" he gestured toward One-Arm, "is the only one of you clever enough to understand this new order of things." He spat out the words, letting them hear the anger and hatred in his voice. If wrath was all these creatures respected then let them fear his. He remounted Storm, and held himself high. "So, I will make this so clear even you will understand. When Sithruss speaks it will be as if I have spoken. Let this be his first judgment. Sithruss, what should do with one who challenges your rule?"

One-Arm drew beside storm, his great black eyes fixed upon the large Lizalfos. His tongue lashed out hunting for the scent of his prey. "Kill."

The large one roared his defiance, but not for long. Those that surrounded him pounced, claws and teeth and blades grew bloody as the roar turned to a whimper and last to silence.

One-Arm lurched forward, fumbling at his own blade.

"Not you," Ganondorf held him back. "We must discuss what comes next."

"What is needed, my king?"

"Your people's part in this war is near done. There will be no more raiding upon the stonemen of the mountain or those that dwell in these valleys. You are free to take only the food you need, but you are not to engage the Gorons or the Hylian villages. Defend yourself if necessary, but there will be no more great battles. Send half of your remaining force home."

"And what of the rest of us? If we cannot make battle or raid."

"You will delay the Gorons. Avoid them, but be ever present. Make your numbers appear grander than they are so the Chief will think he has work left to do. And over the next two months you will keep him occupied and then you will return home. Unless I give you differing orders."

"Then, this was for nothing?"

"I promised you glory, and full bellies if you followed my orders. King Dodongo broke those commands, you deserve nothing. But I am still merciful. I have given you command. And I still have plans to use you. King Dodongo's arrogance has cost us this battlefield, but there will be others. Perhaps in time, you will prove yourselves worthy of my generosity."

"Yes, my king," One-Arm said. "We will be ready." Then he hissed something in the Lizalfos slithering tongue.

The other lizards drew around him, claws and snouts reddened, some with gristle hanging from their teeth. "Yes, my king," they echoed their new leader. "Yes, my king. Yes, my king."

YOU ARE MEANT TO RULE MORE THAN THESE CREATURES.

The first rays of the morning sun spilled over the circled wagons of the Gerudo camp. They arrived later than Gan hoped, but that couldn't be helped now. After all was sorted with the lizards they made good time on their return. Makeela and the rest of his guard had been less enthusiastic climbing back up the mountain than they had leaving it. Even Caeiti broke her usual silence to mutter about the slope being bad for her horse. But by day's end the entire army would be off this rock once and for all. Then off to Lanayru where he would quench another of the fires he started.

So many problems yet to solve. Octorok and Moblins remained, and unlike the Lizalfos and Dodongo, they had not suffered a defeat. Hopefully he could convince them without any major battles and few more deaths on his hands. He had some hope with the Caller of Tides, the ruler of the Octorok seemed reasonable when they spoke. But the Moblins? After he slew the Thrice-Cursed he did not know who wrestle control from the others. Perhaps they would be reasonable, but perhaps not.

And even if they could be convinced, he still needed to explain their retreat to the world. Would people believe they abandoned the war for no reason? Word of the other fronts that reached him hinted the the Octorok made little progress, but the Moblins captured territory. When had Moblins ever given back what they have taken without a fight?

And even if somehow all of it worked out, how long until a Sheikah discovers the truth? Or worse, would some other leader attempt to unite the monsters under their own banner? He'd shown them that Hyrule was ill prepared to fight them all at the same time. Had he created a greater enemy to peace than any faced before? Not since the Interlopers had the entirety of Greater Hyrule needed to unite to defeat their opponent. And those shadowbinders almost brought the world to its knees.

The thought of a monstrous horde behind the likes of Moqut or the Dodongo King would mean death. Worse than that, pointless death. Innocents sacrificed not for a better world, but to satiate their gluttony for killing.

The fears pounded in his head like the Goron's drums. But did they disturb him because the violence repelled him, or because the dark part of him reveled at the thought.

When they reached the camp entrance, the makeshift barricade that acted as a gate was already opened. The night's watch pulled it aside for a wagon filled with barrels and boxes to enter. Nabooru stood beside the wagon, speaking to its driver. She caught a glimpse of him and waved.

A red-haired vai looked out from the side of the wagon. "By the sands," she said in Gerudo. "Is that the king?" Her head disappeared behind the wooden frame, a moment later the two horses pulling the wagon lurched forward and to the side giving room for him and his guard to pass.

"Nabs," Gan approached her. "I did not think you'd be awake this early."

"I didn't mean to be," she said, glancing back toward the wagon. "But our sentries woke me up, when this one arrived. Before sunrise and all."

"King Dragmire!" the merchant stood and waved from her perch. Then she gave a sloppy bow before straightening back up. "King Dragmire! It is an honor to see you, and all your warriors! Nabooru Bright-Flame! Bethmasse the Dread Spear! Makeela the Summer Sun! What are you doing so early?"

"Scouting," Bethe said in a voice that offered no further discussion.

"Sister," Gan gave her a polite nod before looking back to Nabs. "She showed up this morning?"

"Just before you. She must've traveled through the night to get here."

"In lands known to be covered with Lizalfos in a war? She's either a fool or..." Gan glanced back to the merchant. She waved to the others in his party.

"Here!" the merchant called as she dived into the back of her wagon and came back out holding up a barrel. "For the greatest warriors under the sun!" She pried the top of the barrel open.

Tagoma, the newest member of Gan's personal guard moved closest to the wagon and sniffed. "Is that-"

"Yes!" the merchant smiled. "Salted sand-seal! Fermented rushroom! Spiced mulduga fin! All straight from home."

Tagoma glanced back to Gan as if asking for permission to buy from a merchant. But before he could nod his approval Makeela had already rode past her. "How much for the Mulduga fin? I couldn't find any good ones last time I visited the Oasis. It's been near a year since I've had it."

"For heroes like you? The first fin is free!"

A small cheer came up from his guard. Sure to awaken some of those sleeping in nearby tents. Gan rode away from any further eyes and beckoned Nabs to follow him. He rode Storm slow, so that Nabs could keep up on foot until they reached the plot of stakes and rope that acted as a stable. Gan waved to the old Hylian man who tended the horses ever since he joined the army some months ago. He had a wound on him now, Gan never asked how he got it. Nor what happened to the other two who used to aid him.

"Here," Gan said as he dismounted and passed the man Storm's reins. "See that he's well fed before we break camp."

"Of course, sire," the voe said with a bow.

Gan waited until they were well away from the groom before he turned to Nabs. "You checked her supply?"

"Of course, and I found nothing," Nabs glanced back toward the merchant. "She's light-skinned for a Gerudo, but I've seen lighter. Nothing hidden in her wares, beyond some coin."

"Perhaps she is just a lucky fool."

"Forget her. Tell me what happened?"

"As we expected. They will leave the mountain and return to their homes over enough time to make it look natural. You were right by the way, telling them to await my call worked well enough. Made them feel it wasn't truly over. A tactical retreat rather than a defeat. They agreed without much in the way of argument."

"Without much, eh? So, there was some?"

"Of course, but nothing I couldn't turn into a lesson."

"Good," she nodded, her serious expression broke into a wild smile. Her arm wrapped around Gan's own and she pressed her head to his side. "Thank you."

"I gave you my word. If my plan failed, it would be over."

"Still, thank you, brother. We'll make this work. Even under the service of that fat king and his brat daughter. You don't show it, but I can tell it hurts every time you have to kneel before them. But it will be worth it, for peace."

But for how long? A peace that only lasts our lifetime is no peace at all. The problems have not changed, when war starts again the Gerudo will be doomed. And there's nothing we can do to change that.

"No need to be sullen about it."

"I didn't say anything."

"I can tell you're thinking it." She laughed as she pulled away from him. "Come on," she took his hand. "How long since you had some well cooked sand-seal?"

"Too long, sister."

A few days later, his army marched across the plains of Hyrule. Ganondorf sat upon Storm half paying attention to Dessi and Nabs as they rode beside him. Their conversation running long past the important, there isn't much else to do on a march but talk about the weather and old stories everyone had heard a thousand times before. How Nabs took a lance at Sotari Pass and near died, but didn't want to stop fighting. How Dessi's trap at Yarrow left the entire Hylian reserves exposed. How one of the storm-searchers predicted rain by the end of the day while another predicted sun.

While they spoke of countless nothings, Gan looked over his shoulder at the army that followed him. In most ways, it looked as it always had. Proud Gerudo astride mighty mounts, or marching in rows, using their spears as walking sticks. Servants and camp followers scrambling between them, bringing water or conversation.

And yet it was different. When an army marches, they inevitably pick up stragglers along the way. But, never in his life had he seen so diverse a people moving with him. A Goron had apparently decided to join the army and rolled alongside the infantry lines. His weapons and armor rattled as he moved. Pale faced Hylian voe and vai specked throughout the column as comfortable with the Gerudo as any could hope.

No army had ever looked like this, not in all the world.

"Oy," Nabs prodded his side. "What do you think?"

"Hmm?" Gan said.

Dessi chuckled and shook her head.

"The rain, lummox," Nabs said. "Do you think we set camp early?"

"Oh," Gan only then noticed the few drops that splattered onto his hair and clothes. "Sorry sisters, my mind was elsewhere."

"You?" Dessi gave her mischievous smile. "But you're always so present and attentive."

"I know, I know," Nabooru said. "It's so unlike him, it's not like I ever had to hold him back from riding his horse off a cliff."

"That happened one time!" Gan overplayed his anger, sending his sisters into a fit of laughter.

Nabs collected herself, "But I will need an answer. I'm not going to call the army to stop and start setting camp without your say so."

Gan looked about, from the set stones of the Hylian rode still torn up from his army passing by it not too long before, to the grass of the fields all around them. He recognized where they were, not half a mile from where he once stopped and delayed his army for days. Only a few miles away lay a small hill, he couldn't see it, but he knew how to find it. Inside that hill a treasure lay, one he once thought was key to his ascension.

YOU CAN STILL CLAIM IT. STOP HERE. IT CAN STILL BE YOURS.

"No," Gan said. "It's only drizzle. We can make a few more miles before nightfall."