Chapter 81: A Foundation Built on Lies

The wind ran through his hair as Storm carried him across the fields of his conquered land. Gan breathed deep the wild air of the mountainside. When he left the capital, this was all he truly wanted. A time to ride with his sisters beside him, his horse beneath him, and all the responsibilities of the capital a distant memory.

Only, his dearest sisters weren't riding beside him. Nabs and Bethe remained at the capital, Dessi had taken her army south to delay Arlan until Gan arrived with the full force. Even Tagoma ordered the mainguard. The only one of his sisters who remained with him was Jacqueline, who he now named his first spear. The rest were gone. All gone.

"You're still with me, boy, aren't you?" Gan scratched Storm's neck.

The old warhorse grunted. As mighty a steed as any could ask for, but now the years were starting to catch up. At the start of the day, he moved as fast as any other, but now that the sun had begun its descent his pace slowed. Other riders in Gan's guard pulled their mounts back so as not to pass him by.

"Come on, boy," Gan whispered. "Not much further today."

Sometimes Storm almost seemed to know what Gan was saying. He gave a grunt that could only be described as disapproving of the lie.

"Fine, fine. It's uphill, but you can do it."

Storm shook his mane.

"Very well, you old sod." Gan laid his hand on Storm. The symbol on the back of his hand glowed as he pushed a fragment of his strength into the animal. The might of Goddesses was his to command, why shouldn't he use it to make his loyal steed's life easier? "Doesn't that feel better? I bet you could jump over that mountain now if you wished."

Storm's gait sped, and he held his head a little higher. Let him be the greatest of all horses. He'd earned it.

"You still talking to yourself, Gan?" said Jocqueline.

"My horse, actually."

"Ahh, I bet that's a better conversation than half the soldiers here."

"Must you insult them? Our sisters are riding and fighting for us. They deserve respect for that. And the Hylians who march with us, they fight just as hard."

"And I thank them. Doesn't make them clever."

"This is why I never put you up for command."

"I'd have refused if you offered me any higher position," Jocqueline shuddered. "All that responsibility. Let Dessi and Bethe deal with that nonsense."

"It doesn't bother you that I promoted Tagoma ahead of you? You've been on my guard far longer."

"Sands, no. I'm a guard, a good one I might add. Not that you need a good one. That's what I wanted when I joined you, and age hasn't changed my mind."

Gan sighed, "You could do more if you had a modicum of ambition."

"I'll leave ambition to you. Some of us are suited fine with bow and spear." Something caught Jocqueline's gaze, she held her hand to block the sun and squinted forward. "You see that?"

At the head of the marching column, the soldiers stopped. The chain of bodies that followed began to bunch up. At first, Gan feared they'd met some resistance, but there were no war cries or the unmistakable sounds of violence. Gan groaned. There had to be some obstruction. When thousands of people all moved in one direction, even the smallest problem could delay the army for hours.

"Let's see what this is." Gan signaled for his guard to follow as he nudged Storm forward.

It was slow going, maneuvering through soldiers marching on foot or horseback. Many moved aside for their king to pass them, but others were packed too tight. When he reached the front, the line was moving again, though slow and laborious. To the side of the road, lay a caravan of Gorons. Most bore their great hammers and maces but did not wave them about. By the markings of wheels pressing into the overturned dirt, it looked as though the Gorons had been heading down the path as the army came up. They had turned themselves around to get out of the way and let the soldiers pass.

One amongst them stood watch over the turning wagons, occasionally bellowing orders for them to stick together and not stray too far from the mountain path. Ganondorf rode to that one, pulling Storm to stop before him.

"Good day," he called to the Goron.

The stoneman turned from his fellows to look at Ganondorf. His features twisted into surprise before he lowered himself to his knee. "Your Majesty," his voice was low and grinding.

"Are you the leader of this caravan?"

"If it pleases you, Your Majesty."

"What's your name?"

"Aijento, Your Majesty."

"You don't have to end every sentence with my title. You've said it once, that's enough."

"As you say, erhmm, my king."

"What are you caring?"

"What you commanded from us, my king." The Goron had scratches along his face and arms, where his hard flesh had been struck with weapons. He'd been involved in the fighting that had erupted on the mountain. "May I rise, my king?"

Gan sighed. "Yes."

Aijento got back to his feet and yelled for the nearest of the wagons to stop. "Let me show you, my king." He led Gan to the wagon and untied the large canvas which pressed down and held all the objects within it in place. He pulled a corner open and revealed massive carved stones, perfectly cut so the pieces would fit together. Some even held the groove which would one day carry water across the plains and into the desert. "We're taking these south as my king, uhmm, you, commanded, my king. For your project, I was told. The first six are filled with such stones that will hold firm for a thousand years. The last three," he pointed off in the distance where a group of Gorons pulled two wagons far from the road, "have our black powder. The soldiers did not wish to travel close to the powder and demanded that they move far away. Don't know what frightened them so. The powder is secure so long as no one sets fire to it, and if they do, then even at that distance it is like that many would die, regardless."Aijento's eyes went wide as he turned back to Ganondorf, and he went back down to his knees. "Not that I am insulting the knowledge of your people, my king. I am certain they have their reasons for their actions, my king. I only do not understand their wisdom, my king."

"You're not in trouble. This is all material for the aqueduct?"

"It is so, my king. How wise you are to recognize it."

"I was under the impression that your chief has risen against me, why would he still be sending this shipment? Has someone overthrown him?"

"No- I mean- Perhaps I am confused, my king. But I know of no ill will against you which Chief Darunia bares. It is only the lizards that have caused the troubles upon our home. They have attacked us; they have slowed us down. Were it up to my chief we would be halfway to Lake Hylia. Thrice we have tried to leave our tunnels and twice the Lizalfos forced us back with little more than our lives. This is the first time we've been able to break out in full. All to serve you, my king."

"Then it is good that I have come to mediate this dispute. Take care Aijento, you will reach the rearguard that follows several miles behind my force. You will have to pull aside again, make certain you find a safe place along the road to do so."

"I will, my king." Aijento bowed so low his forehead touched the earth.

Gan put heel to Storm and led his guard back to their position at the center of the column. As they rode, Jocqueline kept looking over her shoulder.

"Something troubling you, sister?"

"Is what the Goron said, true? Does that powder of theirs kill at this distance?"

"Two wagons full of it? He might be overstating its effectiveness, but not by much."

"Dessi spoke of it when I returned to your guard. I did not believe her. She can spin a tale when she wishes."

"The last time I was on these mountains, that powder broke through the impregnable gate of the Crown, which not even the Dodongo's flame could breach. And when I wished to use it again to reopen the collapsed entrance, the Gorons warned that could cause half the mountain to collapse. I believed them. They had no reason to lie."

Jocqueline frowned. "Then what do we need armies for anymore?

"We'll always need people willing to kill for what they believe." They rode through the ranks, giving orders where needed to keep the line moving. For most of it, Gan thought. How much did he truly understand about the happenings on this mountain? Since the death of One-Arm, he had no one to communicate with directly. He of course scried the mountain when word first came of his death, but all he saw was violence. He had assumed that Darunia caused it, but perhaps there was more going on.

"Jocqueline," he said once they reached their position.

"Hmm?"

"Make certain the Sheikah is prepared. I may wish to make use of her."

It took the rest of the day for the army to reach the entrance to the Goron Tunnels. The army went about its business as they were trained to do. The front of the column spread wide, with weapons at the ready to prepare if the Gorons attacked. The remains of a once occupied Lizalfos village stood outside the tunnels, which caused the army to split around it.

The scouts told Gan that the buildings were empty, except for some dead the lizards abandoned in their retreat up the mountain. Except for one tall central building, it would not hold well if used for fortifications. But that could be fixed. Already those in the back ranks circled the wagons around it and strengthened the gaps with makeshift walls. The fortifications would not be grand, but they would hold for the night. All those working on the fast construction kept weapons at the ready in case they were called to strengthen the front.

Gan sat atop Storm, his army around him. But the land before him was empty. Did the Gorons mean to stay hidden beneath the ground? Lure them in to fight where the size of Gan's army would mean nothing. Where they would collapse walls to trap them or fight in quarters so cramped that arrows could not be loosed and spears would get caught on the stones. It made sense for the Gorons to wish to fight where their strength and durability were all that mattered.

But even then, Gan knew that it would not matter. Let the fighting be cramped and close. Let it be where tactics meant nothing and only strength would prevail. It would not matter, he would win.

THEY WILL BE NOTHING BEFORE YOU.

He raised his hand to call for the advance, but before he could shout shapes shifted from within the dark. Gorons stepped into the light. Not an army, they did not even bear weapons. Though many bore wounds and looked half-starved. At their head stood proud Darunia. He did not look so proud now.

When the mob reached the Gerudo lines, Darunia stopped and knelt before Ganondorf. Behind him, the other gathered stonemen followed him to their knees. Just where they were all supposed to be, lower than Gan.

"Thank the Goddesses you have come," Darunia said. "I beg you, High King, put an end to this madness."

Gan rode Storm forward, his soldiers parting for him and his guard to stand before his gathered army. A good king is imperious, yes, commanding, but he should also know when to be magnanimous.

"Rise, Chief Darunia."

The Goron did as told, though his people remained lowered.

"Foul rumors have reached my ears, even as far as I am in the capital. They tell me you have broken my peace, that you have slain my honored vassal, and made war against those I have placed to protect you."

"It is not I who have broken my vows," Darunia said. "One-Arm is to blame for this. It was him who started this war against my people."

"Easy it is, to blame someone who can no longer defend themselves. Lord Rithfus was appointed by me; he spoke with my voice in all matters. And you have butchered him."

"I did kill him. It was my hand that grabbed him, in the end. But only after he attacked me, only when he put my child in chains and threatened to eat him."

"And what forced him to make such a threat?"

"I told him the truth. The mountain could not bear the weight of his hunger, his avarice. You must have noticed as you climbed the mountain, there was not a stag that crossed your path, not a goat or sheep. This land has been picked clean, and when we told One-Arm that there was no more, he grew violent."

"It sounds to me that he took your son as a means of motivating you to hunt for him."

"That was his purpose, but we told him true. The mountain is barren. I was given the choice of watching my son be eaten or saving him. I did what every parent would have done."

Gan frowned. Not every parent.

"If my actions have displeased you, I will offer myself to bear any punishment you deem fitting. You are a just king, do not let my people suffer more than they already have for my actions."

HE LIES. KILL.

"And if I say the price of forgiveness is your son, what would you do?"

Darunia's frown deepened as the brutish little brain worked through his words. "I would take it as a test of my loyalty. And I would offer him up, for I know my son would be safe in your hands. All know King Dragmire as an honorable man who would never resort to barbarity."

Gan chuckled. "Good answer. Return to your home, Darunia. The violence between your people and the Lizalfos must stop. I will send riders for their leadership to come down the mountain so we may treat them as reasonable lords."

"Thank you, High King. I will follow whatever path you mark for us."

As Darunia turned, and his people rose to their feet, Gan called. "One moment chief. Before you go, I would like to have supper with you tonight. So we may speak freely. Bring this child of yours who has caused such trouble. I would very much like to hear his words on this matter."

Darunia ground his teeth but nodded. "As you wish, my king."

One-Arm's old home was strange, even after the servants removed the corpses. The Gorons had built it, their craftsmanship was unmistakably set on each stone, but whoever designed the place had no such skill. It was as though someone had seen a castle from a distance and could only guess what lay within.

The small dungeon formed the foundation just below the main hall, while the kitchens were set far away from where anyone would eat. If one could call them kitchens, more like filthy butcheries where chipped blades lay strewn about and shattered platters filled the floor. The room Gan took for his own, and he presumed was once Rithfus' lay down several meandering passageways, many of the rooms it passed were empty of anything. Not in the way of a looted room after a siege, but more like a dust-filled closet that no one ever had a use for.

The Lizalfos wanted a palace, but had no idea what to do with it, or how one would work.

Still, it would make a fine base while Gan remained on the mountain. With any luck over the next day, he would make contact with whoever now led the lizards and bring this annoyance to an end. The real enemy lay south. Arlan had already bested Nabs, and Dessi, even at her best, was not Nabooru.

But all she had to do was delay him. Slow down whatever Arlan plotted until Gan arrived. This time would not be like Whispering Hill. He would not give the defeated time to surrender, to slink away in disgrace knowing that they were beaten. Mercy had not worked for them. He would gift them no more of it. When he and Arlan met, that slit-throat old duke would die along with everyone who fought with him.

No prisoners. No forgiveness. No survivors.

IT WILL BE BEAUTIFUL.

A servant came up to him and bowed, her dyed red hair hanging low. "My king," she said, "the Gorons have arrived."

"Bring them in, then serve us dinner."

Gan had several cushions arranged on the floor around a sheet where the food would be served. He sat on the one furthest from the door and waited. It took longer than he'd like for the servants to pass through the meandering halls to bring Darunia to him.

"Chief," Gan nodded to Darunia. "Please sit, no need for any of the usual ceremony here. And this must be your son. Come, sit. It is good to meet a future chief of the Gorons."

Darunia plopped upon the cushion and likely crushed all the feathers within it. The younger Goron moved slow, standing away from the cushions, looking between Gan, his father, and the room.

"Come, goro," Darunia ordered the boy. "Your king has given you a command. Do as he says."

The boy found his own cushion, but he stared at Gan with suspicious eyes.

"There it is," Gan said, as the servants brought in their food and placed it upon the cloth that sat between Ganondorf and the Gorons. For him, the cooks provided only the usual pottage and hardbread. Not what he would consider his favorite meal, but he'd eaten far worse. At least he was not served the same food as his guests if one could even call it food.

The Gorons ate the very rocks that they dwelled within, but only certain kinds. When last he visited the mountain, he spent an afternoon trying to determine what made a rock edible for the Gorons, but he had no luck. There appeared to be no consistency between color nor composition, and yet every Goron knew which ones they could eat without a moment's hesitation.

"I hope the meal is to your liking."

"An excellent selection," Darunia grabbed the rock nearest to him and placed it between his teeth. His jaw cracked the stones as easily as Gan might crack a nut in his hands. "You must give your chefs my appreciation."

"To the scouts, more like. I had several enter your tunnels and return the most expensive selection from your market. I only hope your people did not force them to overpay, too much."

"No Goron with any honor would do so," the boy piped up.

"Even to a Gerudo with no idea what she was buying?"

"No," he said it with such finality Gan knew he believed it. As ridiculous as it was.

"Then your people are the fairest under the sun. It is a natural thing for a merchant to get the best deal for their wares."

"Not by cheating."

Gan chuckled. "Where are my manners? My old caretaker would scold me, were she with us now. What is the name of this young boy of yours?"

"Ahh," Darunia smiled to his son, "he is called Medigo, after my grandsire. A chief of utmost courage, who fought during the Civil War. Just after the time of your own predecessor."

"It is good to meet you, Medigo."

"And you, umm, King Dragmire," the Goron looked first to his father, then bowed his head.

"You haven't touched your food, please, eat."

Slow and worried, the child picked up the stone nearest him and bit into it. Their teeth must be hard as diamonds.

"Will you be as courageous as your namesake?"

"I hope so," he said, some of the ground pebbles dribbled from his lip.

"My boy is being modest," Darunia said. "He most certainly will be. Even when he was placed in chains, he kept his strength. You may not wish to hear it, my king. And perhaps I should not say, but he made me proud that day." He wrapped one of his massive arms around the child and pulled him close, nuzzling his head against his son. "Despite all the violence that happened since, you've always made me proud, goro."

"I never asked, what does 'goro' mean? I hear your people say it often enough. I remember you called Beramus that as well during the signing ceremony."

"It is a simple term of endearment. Much like how you call those Gerudo closest to you, sister, I believe."

"You never use it to refer to any Gerudo, do you? You always just call me king."

"You are not Lio."

"No, I'm not." Gan lifted his bowl of pottage and dipped the bread into it. He held it a moment for the hardbread to soften, then he scooped out the slurried mix of vegetables and ate. One of a small handful of meals that could be easily prepared when on campaign. Though normally the slop would be flavored with some meat. "I spoke to my hunters after we met. They confirmed what you said, there's almost nothing left on this mountain that is worth eating."

"I am glad my words are proven."

"What happened that day, Medigo?" Gan slurped down more of his food. "Tell me the events that led to Rithfus putting you in chains."

The young Goron looked first to his father in confusion. "You mean One-Arm?"

"I mean Lord Rithfus, yes."

"He grew angry when we told him. He said he'd eat me, and he meant it."

"You can tell me more than that. If you become a leader, you must learn how to weave a tale. A wise leader makes their accomplishments feel great to the listener."

"You mean lie?"

"Of course, he does not, goro," Darunia said. "But you will learn to present yourself better. Give him time, High King, he is still a child."

"Well, when Dembugi told him the hunts must stop he asked where we had gotten the cows. And we told him that we paid for the cows from Hylian ranchers at the base of the mountain. And when he heard that, he demanded we steal the cattle from them and I refused. I told him we Gorons are not thieves. Then he grew angry and threw me into a dungeon."

"That must have been very scary for you." Dembugi told him? Already, the boys statement contradicted Darunia's.

"I wasn't afraid," the boy bragged. "I'm going to be a hero, just like L- like my namesake."

Gan turned to Darunia. "I assume, upon hearing of your son's imprisonment you went to speak with Rithfus, is that correct?"

"More or less."

"Explain what is less."

"I had only just returned from the Crown; I had been away overseeing some of the reconstruction. I took not ten paces into my tunnels before word reached me of my son's ill-treatment. By the time I returned to my home, One-Arm's thugs had already surrounded me. They attacked me, dispersed my guard, and dragged me before him like some common wretch. I had not even the chance to speak on his behalf."

"Ten paces into the tunnels. And you returned to your home before you confronted Rithfus? It would have been faster if you just walked back outside and came here, wouldn't it?"

Darunia nodded. "It would, but I wanted to present myself as a Chief of Gorons, not a beggar. Perhaps I judged wrong."

"And once the Lizalfos captured you, how did you get out?"

"My people freed me. One-Arm wanted to put me on display, in a cage right over there." He pointed to a corner of the room. "I was to be his trophy for the rest of my life. But I was not bound for more than a night before my Gorons broke my chains. I did not ask them, but you must understand that seeing my loyal subjects do so much for me made my heart glad of them."

"Touching."

"Would your people not do the same for you? A good ruler wins the loyalty of their people. You know this as well as I, Dragmire. When we fought together, I had rarely seen such devotion for a king from your subjects."

"And Medigo," Gan said without looking toward the child, "how do you think your father acquired such loyalty?"

The child took a moment to respond. "Because my father is good and noble. He treats all people fair and as they deserve. He protects the Hylians that travel on the roads as well as provides for the Gorons within the tunnels. People still speak of his defense of the Crown and how he faced the King Dodongo."

"What do they say of that battle?"

"Is this truly necessary, King Dragmire? You were there."

"I want to hear the boy's view of things. You should embrace the telling of tales. I know half of the stories of my exploits have been exaggerated to the very stars. Let's hear what they say of yours."

"There is no exaggeration. Gorons speak the truth! My father fought a monster that tore the Crown open and killed any he found within. It is only because of my father and- and only him, that we were able to rebuild."

"Only him?"

"That's what I said."

"And what part do they say I had in this battle?"

The child scowled. "You don't want to hear it."

"Medigo," Darunia said. "That is enough."

"I agree, chief," Gan said. "I don't think I wish to hear any more lies."

The child stood, knocking over his platter and sending the stone on it rolling off the blanket. "I am not a liar!"

"You've been lying as long as you've been speaking." Gan looked to Darunia. "His name isn't Medigo. It takes him half a breath before he recognizes it when called."

"No."

"What did you name your son, Chief Darunia?"

The Goron had not moved, except to adjust the golden bracers he wore on his wrists. "He is named after the one who saved me, the boy who fought alongside me against King Dodongo. He is named after the young hero. He is Link."

"Shall we end the false pleasantries then? I always wondered how you gave the boy the Heart of the Mountain during the battle."

"He found a way through the collapsed entrance, one too small for anyone but a child."

"You gave him the jewel to spite me. He told you what I was after. I was your ally, and you betrayed me. Do not deny it."

Darunia picked up one of the stones he'd been eating and clenched it in his hand. Did he intend to use it as a weapon? It would do him little good. "I would deny nothing. But now it is you who is lying, Desert King. The boy told me how you started that war, how everything that had happened to my people was part of your plan. I learned how all the dead were on your hands. He showed me that you are and always have been a villain, a corrupter. It was only that I could not prove it which stayed my hand from crushing you." He clenched his fist and the stone shattered.

"My Gerudo would have torn down your mountain had you tried."

"Perhaps, but my people would have fought to the end. Do you think your Gerudo singers would fair well beneath the stones? In the dark of my tunnels, where they have no room to maneuver and no means to defend themselves against my bombs?"

"I'd have found a way to slay you."

"But that would have been your end. You would never have taken Castle Town. Dead I might be, but my people would remain free, and my dearest friends would still be living. That would have been a fair trade, I think."

"Is that your plan now, chief?" Gan called witch-fire to his hand. "Your vengeance sits before you. Will you try and take it?"

"Of course not," Darunia plucked another stone from the blanket and bit into it. "I know of your strength. You can do whatever you will now. Everyone always looks down on my people, because we live simple lives they think us fools. But I learn as easily as any man. I know what you did to the Zora that rose against you, and I've heard the tales of what happened at Whistling Hill. There is no one left for me to save but my son and my people. And they are best protected by serving you."

"That's it? You know what I've done, you despise me, and you will still serve? I don't believe you."

"Believe me or don't. I have no need to face you. As mighty as you've become, you are still only a Gerudo. Your time on the ground is limited, but my mountain? My mountain will outlast you. Even if I am not there to see it."

"And what do you say, boy?"

"I'd fight you."

Gan laughed. "I taught your namesake a lesson once. Perhaps when you're older I will teach you the same one."

"Sit down, goro," Darunia took hold of the back of his son's neck and pulled him to the floor. "This is our king. Hate him we may, but we have nothing to fear from him."

"And what makes you so certain of that? You've called me a liar and a traitor."

"Both are true, but you are a practical man. If you were worried about people hating you, you would never have taken Castle Town as you have. No, I think the reason you came to my mountain instead of sending one of your minions is you know that my mines are important. You will not risk them closing. You need my stone, you need my powder, and you wish for this nastiness between the Gorons and the Lizalfos to end. In that, we are aligned."

Halfwit, I will only have need of you until my aqueduct is made. Then you will be nothing. "And you can hold that peace for me?"

"I have kept my people in line for seven years. One-Arm is gone, the cause of this turmoil is ended with him. All we need to do now is make the lizards understand there is no further point in battle. We can hate each other in silence for the rest of our lives, but we both benefit from peace."

Gan leaned forward and rested his chin on his fist. "It's almost a relief in a way."

"Oh?"

"When I last left this mountain, I thought you were the greatest fool I had ever met. But you're smarter than I gave you credit. Leave me, both of you. I will not seek punishment upon you, yet. But understand this, Darunia, if I learn that there was more to this disaster, if I find you had a hand forcing me back onto this rock your tunnels will not protect you. You think the Lizalfos were cruel? You will end up praying for One-Arm to return." He waved to the nearest of the servants. "You, show these two out. Then return to me and get rid of all this rubbish."

The Gorons bowed to him before they followed the vai out. Leaving Ganondorf alone to think.

HE'S WORKED AGAINST YOU FROM THE BEGINNING.

KILL.

KILL.

KILL!

He had not even noticed when the servant returned until she reached past his vision to collect his bowl and plate. Gan grabbed her arm and looked into her eyes. "I wish to speak to Sidaj."

The servant's eyes were wide with fear and her mouth open in shock. But then the emotion leached out of her, her shoulders slumped, and she was a Gerudo no more. "What task do you have for me?"

"Root out what happened the night One-Arm died, every minute detail. Find anyone, Goron or Lizalfos who were present that day and interrogate them. Something is wrong with Darunia's story, and I will know what it is."