Chapter 68: A Child in Need of Sanctuary
Zelda turned away from her knight and followed Impa through the crowds fleeing the castle. The clash of swords rang behind her. He'd win, she knew it. His fellow knights regarded him as one of the most skilled in the kingdom. He'd won eight tourneys and placed high in all the others he fought in.
But he was already wounded, and Commander Nabooru... everyone knew that bloodthirsty barbarian's reputation.
She couldn't let her doubts consume her. He bested her once before in the war, he could do so again. He'd win, he'd survive. Unlike... unlike everyone...
As she ran her fingers twisted in pain. She tried not to look at them, but she felt the bones of her fingers grinding together with each step. Sometimes the pain came in a burst too harsh to ignore, leaving her unable to prevent her gasps and groans. But she didn't cry, she mustn't, not anymore. Sir Jora had the right of it, she was still a princess, and a princess must maintain her composure no matter what inequities befall her.
Impa ducked behind one of the large buildings in the wealthier neighborhoods around the castle. Zelda followed her, darting away from the crowd.
"Hold out your hands," Impa said, as she grabbed one of Zelda's sleeves and tore a length from her dress. Impa wrapped the cloth tight around Zelda's fingers, binding them into place. The bones ground into place. She could hold her silence no longer, though she managed to turn the scream that threatened to escape her into a long, unseemly whimper. Thankfully, only Impa heard her weakness.
Zelda closed her eyes, hoping it would not hurt as much if she didn't watch. It did little good.
How many Gerudo took part in the assault? There couldn't have been many. Word would have spread if Ganondorf marched his entire army from the field to Castle Town. It had to be a smaller number, perhaps thirty, maybe a little more. But that would never be enough to hold the city. Even aided by the retinues of the three matrons, they would never match the entire city garrison.
But what if that garrison stood at only half-strength? Her stomach fell as she realized what she had done. I can recall the armies in the field. Duke Arlan, Uncle Darunia, even King De Bon would descend upon Castle Town with fire and sword at my command. But they would do nothing to save those already captured, or worse.
"I'm finished," Impa said. Rough thumbs wiped the tears that escaped her closed eyes from her cheeks. "It shouldn't hurt as much anymore."
But the pain had not caused her tears.
"We need to move." Zelda sniffed, lowering her hands to her sides. Even that movement made her wince.
Impa nodded. They fled through the streets toward the northern gate, keeping to the shadows, avoiding the screams and rattling of spears. Even bound, her fingers jostled every few steps. Zelda tried her best to hold in any overt sounds to draw attention, but she could not stop herself from wincing or sucking in air. She focused on that pain, so long as her thoughts dwelled on her twisted fingers she couldn't fill her head with the true horrors.
When they reached the market, Impa headed West, toward the poorer neighborhoods of the city.
"The temple isn't that way."
"We're not going to the temple."
"But-"
"My people are securing a means of getting you out of the city. We need to reach them and then lay low for a night. By morning we will get you to safety."
"That doesn't matter."
"Of course it does. It's the only thing that matters right now."
"You're not listening to me." Zelda pulled away and stomped her foot. "If we do not reach Rauru and prevent what's about to happen then it won't matter if I make it out of the city or not. Hyrule will be gone. Ganondorf will collect the treasures within the Temple and will become unstoppable."
"But you will be alive."
She held up her mangled hands. "He can heal me. Surely that's worth sparing a few moments."
"It is not. If my bindings fail, I will reset the bones while we wait. They'll heal straight, that I promise you. I've set many bones in my day."
"It's not about- I am a princess. I am meant to be queen! You would have me hide away for the rest of my life? And... leave everything my family built to ruin? I can't. I won't."
"You're being proud and stupid. I taught you better than that."
"I'm not. I'm being what you taught me to be. And… and father too in his way. A good ruler tries to help their people, even if they hate it. A good Sheikah looks at every detail, every course of action. She removes her personal desires and performs her tasks as best she is able. My task is to protect my kingdom- my people- and the best way to do it is to speak with Father Rauru."
Impa crossed her arms and frowned down at Zelda. Just as she had done when Zelda had been a child throwing a tantrum. The governess would wait patiently for the anger to subside and then do as she wanted.
But Zelda was not a child anymore, and this was no tantrum. "Very well, I'll go myself. You taught me well; I don't need you to make my way to the temple. I'll make it alone."
Impa sighed and looked to the sky. "May the Three save me from stubborn royalty."
They reached the temple unseen. In the dark the stained-glass windows still carried the shape of Hylia and visions of the Three, but where once their brightness glittered in warmth, they were now black shapes. Haunting and hollow, their sanctuary. Her stomach twisted looking at it. Some small part of her wished to turn away and tell Impa she changed her mind. But she had already declared her mind made. She must warn Rauru.
Impa reached for the doors and opened them, much to Zelda's surprise. It was well past time Rauru usually locked them. More startling was the noise that erupted from within the temple. She had never seen it so full. The townsfolk stood all crowded together, rich and poor alike. Huddled around, shaking in fear, whispering on the terrors of the night. Of course, people came for protection. Though Zelda doubted whether it would do any good. These Gerudo destroyed whatever little honor they had with this attack. Jora was right to question if they would follow the rules of sanctuary.
The acolyte Jakob moved through the crowd, passing out blankets to children and offering anyone who wished a drink a sip from a ladle of water. He spotted her, gave a polite nod to those near him before he waded through the crowd to reach Zelda. "Shut the door. Come in."
Around them, people took notice of her presence. Some whispered and pointed at her. She did her best to ignore them, but it would not be long before the entire temple knew the princess hid among them.
"Where's Father Rauru?"
"Tending to some wounded, what's happening out there? We've heard wild stories."
"Where is he tending to them?"
Jakob pointed toward the back of the temple, in the priest's quarters. Zelda nodded to him and made her way through the throng of people. Many stepped away to give her space. Most stared at her as she passed. So many scared faces. She needed to be strong for them. The old, the young, the rich, the poor, the… Gerudo? Three of the desert women hid in a corner. They did not look like warriors, nor did Zelda recognize them from the castle. Regardless, they would need to be dealt with after she spoke with Rauru.
She found him in his bedroom, a man with burns down his arm lay in his bed, sobbing, staining the blankets in blood and pus. While Rauru and Helmin doused him in ointments and wrapped up the wound as best they could.
"Look at me," Helmin said as he gently touched the man's head to turn away from Rauru. "It's best if you don't see this part."
"What's he going to do?" the man sobbed. "Am I going to lose my arm?"
"No," Helmin smiled. "But trust me, this part looks foul. I've seen brave knights faint from this, best if you don't look."
"What is he going to do?"
Behind him, Rauru took notice of Zelda and gave a polite nod before returning to his work. He dipped his hands in a pot of steaming water mixed with leaves that filled the room with a thick heady scent. When he pulled his hands out, he whispered something and his hands glowed. He pressed them against the burnt arm. The man yelped.
"Keep looking at me," Helmin said. "Almost done. I know it stings."
Along the arm burnt flesh sloshed off, replaced with a film of sickly yellow skin and glistening scabs. The man gasped and whimpered as his arm scourged itself of dead flesh and restored weeks of damage in a matter of moments. Rauru pulled his hand away, leaving the limb still covered in scabs and discolored flesh, but no longer leaving the man in agony. Enough to heal, but not waste energy . Not revealing his magic . Satisfied, Rauru wrapped the arm in damp linens.
"How's that feel?" Rauru said as Helmin let the man turn his head back.
"Much better."
"Good, Helmin, tell him what he needs to do to keep the bandages clean and how to rebind them." He gestured to Zelda to follow him even deeper into the temple. Out of his bedroom and into a small communal study. As Zelda followed him, the burnt men stared at her instead of listening to Helmin.
Once in the study, Rauru shut the door.
"Father Rauru," Zelda said. "I've come to-"
The priest pulled her into an embrace. "You're safe, thank the Goddesses."
"Her hands," Impa said. "Be careful."
Rauru pulled away and looked at the wrappings, tutting to himself. "Lady Impa, would you be so kind as to unbind them." As the Sheikah obeyed he moved to a table and picked up the golden harp Zelda used in practice all those months ago. He pulled at its magical aura, bolstering himself before he set it back down. How many had he healed this night to make him so drained?
When he returned to Zelda, her fingers were revealed; broken, and bent in unseemly angles. Just looking at them made her stomach churn. And their flopping painful movement almost made her scream.
"Can you-" Her voice squeaked in pain. She swallowed and tried again, making certain her voice remained steady. "Can you fix them?"
"Of course." Rauru held his glowing hands before her. "This is going to hurt, your highness."
"It has been a night for pain." She meant it to sound noble, aloof, someone willing and able to face the burdens of life. But the expressions Rauru and Impa gave her were not impressed by her stoicism, they looked saddened.
Rauru whispered his incantation and caressed her fingers. She felt the magic flow from his hands to hers. One of her fingers popped into place and straightened. The squeak of pain that escaped her lips could not be held back. Nor could a second as her next finger reset. Then her hand was whole, and all the pain disappeared.
"Thank you, Father Rauru, I don't-"
He did not let her finish before he embraced her again. Squeezing her tight. "I was so worried for you." He looked to Lady Impa. "And you as well, Sister Impa, now, is it? And how are you finding living in the nun's vows?"
"This is no time for jokes, you know it's nothing but a disguise."
"Pity, you'd make a very dutiful nun I'm certain." He looked back to Zelda, smiled, and gave her another gentle squeeze. "It is a relief to see you safe. Do either of you have any further wounds that need attending?"
"We're well enough," Zelda said, stepping away from the hug. "I mean it, truly. We don't have time for small scratches and scrapes. Tonight is the culmination of Dragmire's plan. Even if he succeeds in this coup, he must know that he cannot possibly hold the capital. The people of Hyrule would not stand for it. He will face resistance at every corner, the people will rise against him, and the armies in the field will return to drive him out. The Gorons and Zora will descend from their homes. He is doomed. Whatever else he is, Ganondorf is not a fool, he knows this. He will try to come here and steal all the relics you hold. And we cannot let him."
"And we shall not," Rauru said. "Princess, he will not make it inside the lower sanctum. Only myself and my acolytes know how to open the door, and none of us will aid him."
"I opened it."
"You are a Chosen of the Goddesses. He is nothing but a thug."
"He's cleverer than that. What if he knows of another way to enter?"
"This temple has lasted for centuries, some in my order believed that it is older than the kingdom of Hyrule itself. We have survived civil wars, fires, and famines. I promise you that he will not get in."
"You did not see the destruction he wrought. He destroyed the castle gate through some kind of magic. And he is clever, he has been ahead of the armies of Hyrule, and the needles of the Sheikah, and my… and the king since the beginning. He's been performing feats deemed impossible since before I was born! We must assume he has another trick up his sleeve and plan accordingly."
"Hmm," Rauru went back to the table and picked up the golden harp. "Here, princess, you sound drained. Take this."
"Thank you, I- I was in a fight." Simply touching the instrument sent a wave of relief and power through her. "How are we to defend against Ganondorf?"
"I don't think there's anything else to do. If it becomes necessary, Jakob, Helmin, and I are willing to protect the sanctum at whatever cost to us. And should he somehow make it through? Then, we shall destroy the reliquary. But I promise you, his hand will not claim what we hold." He frowned, then looked back to his room, a new voice of pain sounded from within. "I have work to do, Your Highness. Please, go sit with the people in the temple. This is not the night to be alone."
Zelda returned to the crowd gathered within the temple still clutching the golden harp. The moment Impa opened the door, all eyes fell upon her. She held her chin high as she walked out among them. She needed to still be their princess. Fearless, proud, above all the terrors of the world. She was raised to be a leader, and the people needed to trust in her leadership. But as she walked among the commoners, she could not think of a thing that she could do to lead them. Lead them where? To what? The best she could do was provide an example. A true Hylian holds together against the greatest trials. She would not break. She could not break. So long as she stood strong, so would her people.
She hoped.
As she moved through the crowd, they fell to the sides, away from her. One young woman holding a box of what must be her treasured family heirlooms stood up and offered her a seat on a pew near the front of the altar. Zelda nodded gracefully as she took what the lady offered. As she sat, Impa whispered into her ear.
But whatever her guardian said, Zelda did not hear. Instead, her mind wandered through dark halls, dim passageways, and the sound of battle all around her. And red. So much red.
"Zelda, are you listening?"
"Yes," she lied. "What?"
Impa harumphed. "I said, you've spoken your piece to the priest. And you've had your hands looked at. Now, we need to leave."
"Yes," she said. "Yes, of course."
She rose from the pew. What more could she do here, truly?
"Princess?" A quiet voice spoke behind her. She turned about to see an old man, dressed in a nightgown with his sleeping cap clenched in his hands. He bowed his head in respect. "My princess, all of us – I'm sorry- but all of us wish to know what is happening. Where are the Royal Knights? What is going on?"
Many drew close to her. Even children too young to truly understand her importance put all their focus on her. Everyone, just staring. She swallowed and felt her body tighten. This was ridiculous, she'd been before crowds her entire life. She'd given speeches, not as many as her… not as many as some others. But she had never let the stares of people bother her.
But what could she say? That the kingdom was taken over? Would that make them panic?
"It's the Gerudo, isn't it?" A woman called from the crowd.
"Of course, it is," another man said. "Never should have trusted those desert rats."
"It is true," Zelda found her voice. "The Gerudo King has betrayed us." Just like any other speech. Pretend I'm speaking to a dignitary. "It appears that the villains have repaid our mercy, forgiveness, and recompense ending a century of warfare with nothing but perfidy and violence. Furthermore, he has shown his true craven designs by striking at night. Using the dark to disguise his treachery. And not only him. The Gerudo the Royal Family invited within the castle beneath the flags of peace, to act as ambassadors and negotiators for their people have taken up arms along with their false king. They have broken the sacred laws not just of hospitality, but of civility. They have shown themselves to be nothing but the most contemptible of people."
She stopped to take a breath and think on the next phase of her speech when she noticed most of the people around her staring at her with blank and confused expressions. No, this wasn't helping them at all.
"I think you lost them at 'perfidy'," Impa muttered in her ear. "Or perhaps 'recompense'."
"So, it is the Gerudo. They're the ones that attacked us, yes?" Came another voice.
"They're all traitors."
"Yes," Zelda said. "The Gerudo have broken their vows to the crown- they've attacked us."
"We have Gerudo here!" Someone screamed from the back.
Before she could think of a response, the crowd swarmed back, several of them grabbing at the Gerudo huddled in the corner and dragging them to Zelda. All the while poor Helmin shouted to try and calm them down. But they did not listen. Impa gripped Zelda's shoulder, clearly trying to get her to leave. But now, there was no getting away from these people, and the three crying red-haired women they dragged before her.
"Please," one of them sobbed. "I'm just a merchant. I know nothing of what's going on. Please, listen to me."
"I married a Hylian!" Another cried as the crowd near throttled her. "I'm not a raider! I'm not!"
"Traitors!" One Hylian yelled. "Traitors all!"
"Murderers!"
The crowd held the Gerudo tight, squeezing them, hurting them. They would tear them apart just as the Gerudo did to poor Sir Bors, and all the others at the castle. They'd feel pain, loss, fear. And why shouldn't they? Why shouldn't they feel the loss of Hylians? Why not do to them what the brutes of the desert did to her people? Didn't they deserve it?
But as she looked at them, she did not see Ashdin laughing at destruction, or the implacable shape of the giant Bethmasse, or even the soulless Rijya with her uncaring words of pity. They were all just people. Scared people. Just like her. The harp grew warm in her hand.
"Stop!" Zelda stood up on the pew, shouting once more to get everyone's attention. "Have we fallen so low? Is this how we treat defenseless women, before the Three? Before Hylia?"
One reedy man who held onto one of the Gerudo by the back of her neck and forced his prisoner low looked at her in confusion. "But they don't worship Hylia."
"What does that matter?"
Rauru rushed out of the back rooms. His hands and priestly vestments stained with the blood of whoever he was currently providing aid to. But the red blood did not look near as terrifying as the scarlet anger across his face.
"What is important," Zelda continued, "is what we believe. And how we act. These people have come looking for sanctuary. Who are you to deny them?"
The man released his captive, still taken aback. "I thought it's what you'd want," he mumbled.
"It is not. It is no fault of theirs to what land they are born, or what king they live under. We must see them as who they are. Not who we fear them to be." She looked back to Rauru, the kind old man nodded to her.
The crowds stepped away from the captured women. "Thank you, princess," one of the Gerudo said, before falling to the ground in prostration. The others followed the first's example, bowing low. Still shaking in fear, and relief at the hope that they may weather the night in safety rather than try and survive in a battle-torn city.
Zelda watched them for a moment. Some small part of her wanted nothing more than to scream at them. Blame them for everything. But what good would that do? It would only prove she was no better than King Dragmire. "Rise," she told them.
A crash burst through the temple, making Zelda jump and many within the crowd scream in fear. The three Gerudo shivered, still at her feet. She looked about but could see no source of the sound. Outside. Something collapsed outside . Were the Gerudo close? Perhaps Impa had the right of it, and she needed to leave. But if she fled, wouldn't everyone panic? "I think it best if we all take a moment to calm ourselves. Helmin, would you please lead us in a prayer? Something to bolster our resolve and remind us of our duties in these troubled times? A prayer for the Three, so that all here may find comfort in it."
"As you wish, Your Highness," the ordinand lifted his hands. "O Goddesses, Guide of all who trust in Thee." He started a familiar prayer that surely all within had heard a thousand times. Not the prayer Zelda would have chosen, but it had the desired effect. As he spoke others gave their voice to his until all chanted the words together. Zelda joined them, even plucking a few notes on the harp to help.
"Without whom, no one among us learns wisdom, no one among us shows courage, no one among us is imbued with might. Let your Golden Light shine upon us and reveal your wills."
By the second verse, the crowd seemed to have calmed at least a little. She started to make her way to the doors but did not reach them before they opened. The hymn choked to silence as the shrieks of terror entered the temple from without.
A figure walked through the door, slumping against it after taking his first step inside. But the boy steadied himself and wiped the sweat from his face onto his green tunic before he shut the door behind him. He looked unharmed, though his torn clothes, splattered with mud and blood, revealed he had faced his own trials this night. He wore a blade sheathed to his hip, held one large bag across his back, and a shield draped over his shoulder. A dim blue light fluttered beside him. His eyes roamed across the temple before he found Zelda and graced her with a tired smile.
"Link! Navi!" They made it, Hylia be praised. She started to run toward him before she reminded herself of her station and transitioned to a more regal walk. "How did you know-"
She had not even finished the question, before she noticed the boy's smile fade, and took note of his shield. The Royal Crest emblazoned upon it, a design she had seen every day of her life. He could have taken it from any number of Castle Guards or the Royal Knights.
But there on the edge of the rim, a notch when the first of the raiders attacked. That scratch along the surface, from the gargantuan woman's spear. And that chunk of dented wood when he drove her back. Along with more scratches and dents, its surface now marred from blows she had not witnessed.
Zelda reached out and touched the shield. "How did you get this?"
"I'm sorry," was all Link said.
"He was very brave," Navi flew to her.
Was. Then Sir Jora failed. She told him to win, to return to her. No, not told- ordered. He disobeyed her order. It wasn't fair. It wasn't!
He was good and kind. One of the greatest knights in the realm. And still, he died. Just as Sir Bors. Like everyone else. Just like her father.
"Dead." She whispered. Her hand trembled. All of them dead. What little strength she had fled her legs. She fell, and somehow the boy reached her before she hit the ground. She held onto him for her life. "Dead," she wailed, as her arms clutched at him. "Everyone. They're all. I didn't get to tell him. I had a hundred chances. And I didn't tell him."
Link held her tight. But it brought her no peace. She was making a scene. A princess shouldn't act this way, not before the people. She needed to have decorum and carry herself with the dignity befitting her position. But as the tears flowed, she couldn't stop them.
All her effort to calm the crowd now wasted. They would all know that everything was lost. They'd panic for certain. All because she couldn't control herself.
Another pair of arms wrapped around her. Impa, it must be. Zelda turned her head to see her only remaining guardian, but Impa stood a few paces away. Instead, tanned arms wrapped around her, along with a face hidden behind flowing red hair. "Let it out, little vai," said one of the Gerudo she had spoken for a moment before. "There is no shame in grief."
Another pair of arms found her, then another. Who they were she could no longer see, her eyes too full of tears.
She did not know how long they stood together. All of them held her upright, bolstering her when her own strength failed. They did not let her go until the last of her tears fell, and she could wipe her face dry.
"I'm sorry," she muttered once she regained control of herself, sniffling like a babe.
"Nothing to be sorry for," one townsman said, and a few others gave their agreement.
"A princess should-" she started to say before one cut her off.
"Tonight," said a shopkeeper with great bushy sideburns, "you are a child. My daughter would've cried at your age. Three take me, I already shed my tears tonight."
"Princess," Link said, as the circle of arms broke up enough for him to move. "I am sorry for all you're going through. But-" He swung a large bag off his shoulder. It clanged against the floor. Pulling apart the tie, he opened it to her and revealed the three gems inside.