Chapter 64: A City Unprotected

"No. That is ridiculous," Nabooru tried her best to keep the mockery from her laugh, but some things were beyond even her skill. "King Yasasorn won the battle of Castle Town, of course, he was the better general."

"Victory in battle is not the only facet under discussion," Jora said. "Tactically, yes, Yesasorn was superior. No right-minded person could ever argue otherwise. But after he burned down half of Castle Town was he able to hold it? No." He punctuated his point with a chop of one of his hands against the other, making his gauntlets rattle. "He was driven out."

"But not by Old King Heralt. He was dead."

"But it was Heralt's plan."

"Oh, brilliant plan there. You've convinced me. How did I ever fail to recognize the wisdom of getting killed watching your home burn around you?"

"Don't belittle a hero," and for a moment a note of true annoyance flitted through Jora's voice, and by the sands somehow that just made him seem more passionate and exciting. "He had already evacuated the city. He drew Yasasorn into being cut off from his reinforcements. And once Count Tolomir's hammer drew close Yasasorn was forced to retreat. Heralt's plan, not executed perfectly, I'll admit, but it did send the Gerudo army back to the desert."

"Maybe I'd agree with you if Tolomir succeeded in destroying the Gerudo force, but he only managed to break the rearguard. Yasasorn got away and invaded again two years later."

"But he never again reached as far as Castle Town."

"Why would he want to? It was rubble!"

There was a small cough behind them, they turned to see a child of perhaps fourteen, with simple comfortable-looking clothes bearing the colors of purple and yellow in a checkerboard pattern. The sign of some noble house no doubt, but one of the servants. "I'm sorry," he whispered, in a voice of absolute fear, "but, that is, I mean to say. Perhaps-"

"Out with it, voe."

He gulped.

"You're scaring the poor boy," Jora nudged her. "Don't worry about Lady Nabooru. Whatever you've heard of her, I guarantee you it's not accurate."

"That's right, in person, I'm much worse." She bared her teeth at the kid, making him step back and gulp.

Jora rolled his eyes. "You're a child. Alan, what's the message?"

"It's only," the boy tried to start again, his hand twisting at his tunic. "I was told, by the Master of Ceremonies, if I could maybe get the two of you to quiet down a little. Your voices can be heard outside."

"Hah!"

"Inform Lord Dormier that we apologize, and we shall be quieter."

"Thank you, sir, my lady," the little boy bowed to them before scurrying away.

"Alan, eh? Tell me true, how do you keep the names of everyone in this city straight? There are so many of them."

"I wish I had that talent. No, Alan is Lord Dormier's cupbearer. I met with him to secure the funds for this little venture." He waved at the building and the gathering of nobles and servants crowded within.

They waited within a large empty building that stood beside the largest market of Castle Town. The king was to make a speech before the crowds announcing the departure of soldiers to join the fighting in the east, and for some reason that required half of his court to follow him into the city. A dull affair, in truth, and one Nabooru would have avoided were it not for Bulira's prodding.

Since her arrival in the castle, she had only left her mother's side for those tedious war council meetings. She had barely a moment to spend with Jora, though each time was always the pinnacle of her day. No one else had his talent for driving the worries from her mind. They would talk and joke and she would forget the troubles with Bulira for a few beautiful moments.

"Perhaps we should discuss something else," Jora said, "so we don't get too heated and loud."

"Loud, quiet, you're still wrong."

Jora squinted at her in mock rage before they both broke into a smile. "You're lucky you're pretty."

"And you're lucky to have me." She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a kiss. They received a fair few disapproving looks and grunts from the prudish nobles. When they pulled apart, she was rewarded with the look of joy on his face. Though it dwindled too fast for her liking.

The Royal Guard arrived and with them the royal family. As soon as the princess entered the room, Sir Jora's demeanor changed, he stood rigid and serious, angling his body to watch the young vai. Zelda, for her part, ignored him, instead, she maneuvered around the room greeting all the nobles who bore ranks higher than baron.

"I thought you were free until after the speech," Nabs nudged him in his breastplate.

"I am."

"She's surrounded by guards. I don't think she needs your full attention."

"It's not that, look," he nodded toward the princess and the boy she now spoke to.

"Poor Durrell," Nabooru muttered. Of all the members of the war council, the little nephew of Duke Arlan was the only one who didn't annoy her. Well, besides Jora, of course. Every ambassador practiced their petty politics, and the royals always felt as though they were forcing everyone to sit idly and watch their familial squabbles. Durrell was the only one who tried his hardest to do his duty.

"Not poor Durrell, that's good to see."

"Why? You think she's sweet on him?"

Jora scoffed. "I doubt it. During the next meeting, when Durrell goes to read his uncle's reports, watch the princess, she looks like she's trying not to scream every time he misreads a word. But she mentioned that she behaved rudely to him and wished to make amends. I believe that's what we're watching."

"The little terror's trying to be nice, is she?"

"She's not a terror. But yes, 'a good queen must win the love of her subjects' she's told me three times now."

"And how's she doing winning that love?"

Jora shrugged. "It could be worse."

Nabs didn't know how. She had never seen Durrell look so uncomfortable, the poor voe fidgeted like a fresh spearhand. Whatever Zelda was saying certainly wasn't making him love her.

"She's still young," Jora continued. "It's important that she knows what she must do to improve and become a good queen. She has years to perfect her technique, but she at least is trying to learn them."

"I'll admit there's something to admire in that."

"I just wish she practiced her apologizing on others." Jora gave a knowing glance to the king. "Someone I know would be more receptive."

Little chance of that.

"Lords and ladies," Lord Dormier, a short fat bald man in an elaborate outfit of layered colors and furs waved everyone's attention. "It is time. Please take your positions."

"Pity," Nabs said. "Speak after?"

"If I can, duty starts and all." He took a moment to give her one parting kiss before he took his place near the front of the procession. He stood among the knights and guards of the castle, before the less important members of the court. Such a backward place that someone such as him would be given a position of lesser honor than penny-pinchers and fat, perfumed lords who serve no purpose.

She, as a representative of the Gerudo and honored commander, would be near the back. Nabooru found her place before Matron Rijya and Matron Ashdin. She gave Rijya a friendly smile and tried to do the same with Ashdin, though that proved difficult.

"Commander," Rijya said.

"Where's your mother?" Ashdin asked. "Still ill, is she?" She laughed as though the thought of Bulira's discomfort was some great amusement.

"Unfortunately."

The word made Ashdin titter all the harder. Nabooru found the longer she spent in the Most-Feared's presence, the lower her estimation of the war chief plummeted. When she was a child, she heard of the daring raids of the Star-Singers and their battle-hardened matron. Each pushing deeper into enemy lines than any other Gerudo. Always striking and retreating before the armies of Hyrule, and never seeing anything worse than a minor defeat. Nabooru hoped she would one day become as bold a commander. Only when she grew old enough to lead warriors of her own, she studied Ashdin's battles in full. She found some clever maneuvers, but over and over she marveled less at the matron's boldness, aggression, and skill, and more at her luck. A dozen times her bloodlust should have gotten her killed, and yet her army always managed to scrape away. There is nothing one can learn from studying campaigns that relied on the whims of fortune.

"Hope she recovers," Rijya said.

Nabooru nodded her thanks before she turned to look at the rest of the column. Behind the matrons, Ambassador Coroto stood, his body wide enough that no one could stand beside him. After him, Ambassador Selvas and her husband, arm in arm took their place.

Last came the royal family. They had stood off to the side while the rest of the gaggle of lords and ladies formed the line. Only at the end did they march to their position. Nabooru couldn't help but watch the pair. The vai stood at the king's right, several times glancing up at him and each time turning away without saying anything though clearly wishing to. "This is the right thing to do." She finally said, just as they passed Nabs.

"Always so certain of yourself," the king replied, without bothering to look at his daughter.

Standing just before the doors that led to the marketplace, Lord Dormier cleared his throat. Which must have been a sign, since his cupbearer, whose name Nabs already forgot, opened a window and started waving at the musicians outside. Drums rolled and trumpets blared. The doors opened and the knights marched out to the cheering crowd. Nabooru tried to find Jora among them but could not differentiate him from the rest of the marching wall of steel.

The Master of Ceremonies gave another signal and his cupbearer rushed to the first of the nobility. They exchanged a few words, and the procession began. It took far longer than Nabs liked for her turn to start moving. Each of the preening Hylians would pause in the doorway and wave, basking in their unearned glorification and slowing the entire ceremony down.

When it was finally her time to stand before the crowd, Nabooru marched straight to where she was supposed to stand. Only then did she look out over the crowd that filled the market. Blocks of soldiers stood on the street. Or at least, people who looked like soldiers. From Nabooru's understanding, a good part of their number were members of the city watch, provided new equipment, and now sent to fight the battles to the East. She did not know how useful they'd be. Rounding up criminals was not the same as standing shoulder to shoulder facing down blades and arrows. Still, they would at least know how to hold their weapon, which made them better off than some of the recruits Nabooru worked with.

And who knows? Perhaps one among them was a natural talent, like that voe Bethe picked up.

On the sides of the street stood the common folk of Castle Town. Some threw flower pedals over the guards; others applauded and sang out. Their voices swelled with each new lordling that entered their view.

When it came time for the king and the princess to step through the portal, their voices reached a fever pitch. For his part, King Liotidos managed to almost look dignified as he stepped forward onto a large flat circular stone that jutted out before the crowd.

"My people!" His voiced boomed, echoing far grander than it had any right to. It reverberated off the walls and managed to overpower the crowd of hundreds.

"Oh, that's clever," Nabooru muttered as she looked around the place. Though they were outside, the building behind them had a stone overhead that shielded the nobles from the sun. At first, she thought it was only for bad weather, but the entire design was domed. Some clever architect shaped the building to funnel the speaker's voice out among the crowd.

She had to give that to the Hylians, between their castles, aqueducts, walls, and domes they knew a thing or two about stonework. Perhaps she should have listened when Gan prattled on about them.

"My faithful subjects!" The king continued. The princess stepped away from his side and took a position directly in front of Nabooru. "Today we have gathered to honor our brave guards."

"I guess we'll have to squeeze together, eh?" Nabooru whispered to Zelda.

The girl's head spun about, for a moment there was a flash of something in her eye. Annoyance? Anger? But was it meant because she dared speak to the royal brat, or because Nabooru dared to interrupt her father's speech? "Commander, it is good to see you." She returned to facing the crowd. "I was uncertain you would attend."

"And why's that?"

"I was told you spend most of your time with your mother. I do so hope that Matron Bulira is getting better."

"Do you now?"

"Of course, Matron Bulira has been nothing but a kind gentle soul."

"The defenders of this city shall become the protectors of all the realm," the king bleated on.

"That she is," Nabooru agreed. "It's a hard thing when a parent you love is hurting."

"Indeed," Zelda said, and that ice came back to her voice.

Nabooru sighed and silently listened to a few more lines of the king's speech. Then lines turned into paragraphs. And paragraphs to pages. "How long can it possibly take to say 'We're sending our guards to go fight Moblins. Don't steal or murder any more than the normal amount with them gone'?"

"That is not what the speech is about," Zelda hissed.

"Ahh, are you enjoying it? And here I thought I would have an ally," Nabooru said. "You have to be tired of listening to his words as well, eh?"

"How dare you?" The vai did not turn to look at her, but she shook with anger. So, she does care, how about that?

"Oh come, princess," Nabs couldn't help but push the blade in a little deeper. "Everyone knows, there's no one in the realm who dislikes your father more than you."

"That's not true!" She said, this time a note too loud. She gasped as she noticed her voice carry, though the king did not stop in his speech. Zelda turned to glare at Nabooru. "You're rude and you're wrong."

"Perhaps, but I'm honest. You can talk to me, princess. The king orders you around, he doesn't understand you, he doesn't appreciate you. You should hate him."

"That's not- how could- you don't know what you're talking about."

Nabooru just smiled. "Of course, I have no idea what it's like being an angry little vai, prickling at everything her parent tells her. Only you have ever experienced that."

Over the last few weeks, Nabooru had gotten to know a bit of the king. He wasn't particularly impressive, but he had a look about him. A glower when he was thinking heavily or holding back anger at something in front of him. A way his brow pressed together, and he ground his teeth until they set into a frown. And by the sands, it was funny seeing that same expression on the face of an eleven-year-old vai. "You had a kind and good mother. I'm certain any such feelings you may have felt were entirely unwarranted."

"I think we're supposed to be facing the crowd, princess."

Ooph, the anger on this one. Almost burned being so close to it. If the princess held a blade, Nabooru would worry that she would try to stab her. Instead, Princess Zelda turned away with a huff.

"You'll have to explain it to me though," Nabooru spoke to the back of the kid's head. "Is your father so much worse? Is he beating you, perhaps? Making you feel worthless? Selling you off to the highest bidder? Anything unforgivable?"

She did not answer.

"No? So, he's just a normal man then? Tries but messes up, some good, some bad? That sound about right?"

Still nothing, though the princess craned her head high and Nabooru could see the tension in her shoulders.

"Word of advice then, princess. It took me leaving home and near dying to figure things out. Next time I saw my ma I begged for forgiveness for all the silly things I put her through. They say you're clever, perhaps, you can figure out how to do that without fighting a war first."

That was it. Her little attempt to fix two people that Nabooru didn't know, nor particularly like. There, Jora, I hope that helped. She stayed silent through the rest of the speech, and it was a long, long speech. Somehow more dull than when Gan got in front of a crowd. Her mind wandered, though to nowhere pleasant. Back to that dark room, where Bulira sat and waited for the enemy to arrive.

Trumpets pulled her back to the world. The king raised his hands and waved. The drummers rattled a marching beat. And the guard turned and walked out on tempo through the main city street toward the city gate. All the while people shouted their feelings and encouragement. Some women rushed forward to give last kisses to loved ones, or perhaps they were simply showing appreciation for a handsome voe in armor who caught their eye. Others gave food. If the guards were anything like Gerudo recruits, the hugs and kisses would be what they remembered, but the food would become their true treasure when the marches go long, and they grow tired of hard bread and dried meat so tough it hurt your jaw to chew.

They stayed watching the new soldiers depart until they were out of the square completely, then King Regent Liotidos turned and walked back into the arch, and the rest of the nobles all made their way after him. The knights were the last to re-enter the building. Sir Jora immediately went to Zelda's side, and Nabooru went to his.

"See not so bad," he whispered as they all filed their way out of the building and out into the street.

"Not so great, either. Will you be returning to the castle?"

"That's for her to decide." He looked to his ward. "What do you say, your Royal Highness, shall we return home?"

"No," the girl said. At first, Nabooru thought the vai was being childishly obstinate. But she wasn't looking at either of them nor did she have the expression of one trying to be spiteful. "Since we're in the city, there's a place I wish to visit. If you'll let me."

"Of course, your father has said many times you need to go outside more. So long as you don't, you know, try what you tried last time."

"That sounds like a story," Nabooru said. "What happened last time?"

"Nothing," the princess said far too quick. "And no, this will be nothing like that. There's a place I wish to visit. A temple. And I'd like to visit it alone. Just with my guardian."

"It's fine princess, I didn't want to go to one of your temples anyway." She looked to Jora. "Will I see you later today?"

"I shall try, but likely not. If I can't today, I will try and see you tomorrow. Give Bulira my best. This illness has been with her too long already."

She kissed him on the cheek before they parted. Jora walked away asking the princess questions about the temple. If there were any great pieces of art held within, or sacred relics to make it worth the trip. Nabooru did not care to hear Zelda's answers. She found Honeyhoof and untied her from the hitching post, before joining the process of courtiers and knights returning to the castle. The king sat astride an impressive tan destrier and tried to settle debates and make agreements with the nobles and merchants that swarmed him like flies to rotten meat.

One wonders how anyone had the patience for all that nonsense.

By the time they reached the castle, and the horses were all given to the stablehands, Nabooru had quite enough of the company of Hylian nobility. Everyone seemed to want to fill the peaceful air with their own voice, and rarely did they say anything worth listening to. Some of the cleverer ones tried to engage her in conversation about the war effort. As though it wasn't obvious they only meant to use her as a means of getting her king's ear.

What Bulira was dealing with was truly terrible, but Nabooru would be lying if she said she was not thankful to use her 'illness' as an excuse to get away from all these people. She managed to reach the Gerudo Quarters before Rijya and Ashdin and their escort. It was almost empty, with only those few who loitered in the rooms, unwilling to bid the city guards goodbye, and a few servants who wandered the halls cleaning things.

Well, them and Bulira's personal guard.

"How is she?" Nabooru asked Sheviath, the leader of the three stationed to attend to Bulira for the day.

The soldier shrugged. "Hasn't left her room." The woman was of a height with Nabooru, with a fierce reputation. Nabooru had never seen the Boar-Heads battle, but upon her arrival, she had made a point to train with them in the mornings. They were adequate, and this Sheviath proved herself a leader among them, despite her youth. You wouldn't know it by looking at her, but she had not yet reached twenty. Some people are just born old, and her natural ancient visage was aided by two massive tattoos of boar tusks that came up from her chin and lined the sides of her face.

"And our unwanted visitors?" Nabooru asked as she opened the door to Bulira's room.

"There weren't any," Sheviath said. "Though, Commander Nabooru, I feel I must tell you. The Matron has told us to disregard your orders about them, again."

"Ignore her. The Twinrova are not to be allowed near my mother."

"Nabooru?" Light from the doorway and through the small cracks between the boards across her windows revealed Bulira sitting in her chair in the corner of the room, wrapped in her shawl. Beside her, a stew sat on her desk. The same stew that Nabooru had gotten her before leaving the castle. "Why do you speak so ill of them?" She said, her eyes wide and glassy wet. "They have done nothing but good for us and our people."

"Ugh," Sheviath said as she closed the door.

"Ma," Nabooru went to her mother's side and stooped to a knee. "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry." Though her eyes revealed the lie of it. She looked almost longingly at the food before she turned away. Bulira had always been skinny. The witches often forgot that those in their household needed food. More than once, she had forgone a meal so Nabs and Gan and even the shell of Sir Godwyn could fill their bellies. But the Twinrova never forgot to order them all about every day and night. Forcing Bulira to maintain far more of that old temple than anyone used. When last Nabooru had seen her, dressed as a Matron and riding in a procession of warriors she looked healthier than she had ever looked before. But now that was gone. She must be the only Gerudo in all the world, who lost weight feasting with the Hylian Royal Court. Matron Ashdin looked as if she had somehow gained another stone. Even Matron Rijya and her spear-like daughters had filled out a little since leaving the desert.

But not Bulira. She looked worse than ever.

"I know what you're doing," Nabooru took her mother's hand. "It isn't the way. You don't need to fight them. That's why I'm here."

Bulira's thin, weathered hands clutched hers, stronger than she looked, and her eyes, there was more sorrow behind them than Nabooru could ever explain. "I- I must-" Her mouth fought to form words, but what came out were not Bulira's words. It may have her tongue and voice, but it was not her. "Did I tell you what I overheard the Princess Zelda was saying to Jora the other day?"

This again. Every time Bulira tried to speak of those twin wretches lies would spew out instead. "What could you have possibly overheard them say? You haven't left this room in days."

"The princess has provided a suitable match for him. A Hylian woman, noble, and wealthy. Meek and kind. Not someone with such a violent temper as you. Someone who would care for him. Be good for him. Not like you at all." Now the tears started their slow descent down her face.

Nabooru took a deep breath and let it out. She was not angry with her mother, there was no point snapping at her. Better to hold that wrath and release it when the time was right. When the Twinrova dared to return.

Still, it was difficult not to take their latest abuse as anything but insulting. Do they truly think so little of me? Do they think these feeble lies would trick me in any way? It would take half a moment's thought to discover the deception. Only a complete fool would believe them. For better or worse, Kotake and Koume had known her for Nabooru's entire life. And this was all the effort she was worth?

Of course, it is. If they think of me at all it's as a nuisance, nearly beneath their notice. They never recognized me as a child, why start now?

For the rest of the day, Nabooru tended to her mother. Doing her best to avoid any further talk of the old hags. Instead, they spoke of all that happened that day, from the king's tedious speech to all those who stopped Nabooru to wish Bulira well. People cared for her. Not only Nabooru and those sworn to defend her. But all along the castle from noble to servant, everyone had kind words for Bulira. Then they discussed the parade of the city guards and what they would face when they reached the battles to the East. She even told of the conversation with the princess.

"You shouldn't have said that!" Bulira said more than once, though she held back a laugh each time. It was good seeing her mother smile. Even if it was between lectures on Nabooru's poor manners. Bulira even took some food when the day grew late. Not enough, but it would keep her from starving.

When night fell and what little light in the room disappeared, Nabooru helped her mother to her bed before preparing for the night. If the witches would come, the dark is when they would do it. She checked the windows to make certain they were secure. Then she spoke to the guards for the night, telling them to charge in should they hear any noise.

Then she prepared her travel mattress, unfurling it to the side of her mother's bed. Before she wrapped herself in blankets and went to sleep, she placed her weapons by her side along with her great gleaming shield. She tucked it beneath the bed. Well within reach, but so it would not reflect the light of the moon and stars. They'll never see it coming.

Bulira fell asleep quick, how could she not? She ate so little; it was a wonder she had the strength to stay awake at all. But Nabooru waited, counting until deep into the night. When she was certain that daylight was not far away, and the witches would not be making an appearance. Her heavy eyes closed, and darkness enveloped her.

A scream woke her up.

She blinked.

She was already standing on her mattress, her shield and sword held tight in her hands.

"Release her!" Bulira screamed. She sat upright in her bed, her hands gripping her blankets and holding them halfway over her face. The door slammed open as guards charged inside. "Release her!"

"Where are they?" Nabooru yelled.

"Commander," Sheviath said. "You are to put your weapon down, before our matron."

"I'm not going to hurt my own mother," she hissed, though she resheathed her sword. "Where are they?"

"Are you free?" Bulira whispered. "Can you move? You haven't been... you're safe?"

Nabooru dropped her shield and went to her mother, letting the old woman wrap her arms around her waist. Bulira buried her head in Nabooru's shirt.

"I thought they had you. I thought- they were here."

"They're gone now, ma. I'm here. They haven't hurt me." Nabooru signaled the guards to leave. They obeyed, though some took longer to move than others.

She sat on her mother's bed. As Bulira changed her grip, Nabooru could only silently fume. They'd been here. They'd been here and beaten her, again. Her anger bubbled in her chest, and it took all her strength not to break something. How? What new spell had they used against her?

"They said they were done with me. For now. They said-" Bulira stopped and held Nabooru even tighter. "I can speak." She gave a grown that turned into a wail of terror and exhaustion, a pitiful howl of relief after a hard-fought battle. "I can speak of them. I can't feel them anymore. I can say their names. Kotake. Koume. They've been there for so long. Their laughter, every time- every time."

"Breathe ma. We're safe."

"No," she shook her head. "There has to be something more. I feel it. Why would they release me? Why? Why now? After all this time. It doesn't make sense."

"Perhaps their spell finally wore off," Nabooru said to calm her mother down. But as she felt the tears dampen her shoulder, she knew that could not be it. As deranged as the witches appeared, they did nothing without a reason.

A chill but gentle breeze swept across Nabooru's face. Above her, the windows were open. The wooden planks that once boarded them shut disappeared. It did not make sense. They would only do such a thing if they knew for certain that Bulira would not be able to hinder them. That whatever she had to tell Nabooru was worthless.

The battle was over before Nabooru even had a chance to make a move.

But still, she needed to try.

"Mother, I must know, what are they planning?"