Why we failed pt. 21

False Flags on the Sunset

Commander Tye stood atop the bluff, staring down at Salty Point with narrowed eyes and a sour twist to his mouth. Below, the coastal village sat peacefully nestled against the Wandering Sea, its waters shimmering sapphire beneath a blue sky. White gulls spun lazily overhead, their soft, feathered wings blending seamlessly into the few low-lying clouds that drifted like pillowy sails across the horizon. Their carefree cries echoed gently, fading as they disappeared momentarily among the cotton-white formations, making it impossible to tell where bird ended and cloud began. Waves also tumbled gently upon the rocky shore, rhythmic and calm. It would have been a pleasant view—idyllic, even—were it not for the dark suspicion gnawing at his gut.

Four days. It should have taken half that time to reach this forsaken spit of coast. But no, the cursed Marshlands had other plans. Swamps that swallowed boots whole, bogs that sucked down horses with malicious glee, and riverboat men more treacherous than helpful. Each one more determined than the last to loot the army rather than help. Every mile had been a misery. His men, used to clear skies and broad fields near the capital, had trudged wearily through muggy air thick as stew, swatting bugs and cursing foul water that stank of rot. If only we had more time, he realized. More time to prepare for such a campaign, but orders were orders, and the command was to move with all due haste. And so, he did just that.

Fortunately, now that they've arrived, there is some respite. Fresh sea air now caressed his scarred face, sweet relief from the stink and humidity of swamp-hamlets whose stubborn folk thrived in the marshy gloom. He drew a deep breath, savoring the salty tang, but could not quite chase away the irritation that simmered beneath his calm facade.

"Commander," came the hesitant voice of one of his lieutenants, a soldier named Greff, still green as meadow grass though a brother of the guard for over ten years. One of the last older recruits who were appointed to the guard for their noble status and whose blood ran through their veins rather than their merit. The soldier was nearly thirty now and would you know it, Link's father realized the man has never so much as stained his blade. It nearly brought a strange smile to his lips. Truth be told, only a small handful had seen actual combat other than the commander and his fellow old veterans. The last real war anyone witnessed was during his time. Peace has reigned since and with that, any real experience along with it.

The man spoke up. "All seems…quiet below, Sir. Perhaps the reports were mistaken?"

Tye didn't spare the man a glance. "Mistaken?" he growled, his voice rasping with incredulity. "We marched a full battalion across two days' worth of swamp and misery, doubled by mishaps and delays. Half our supply carts mired in muck. All because of some damned 'mistaken' correspondence? There shan't be any mistakes."

Greff wisely fell silent, sensing the peril in pushing further.

Tye sighed roughly, scowling down at Salty Point again. It was unsettling, how tranquil it appeared. Not a single burning roof, nor even a frightened villager fleeing the supposed pirate menace. Just fisherfolk going about their humble business, mending nets and proudly hauling their morning catch onto weather-worn docks. He even spied old men lazily telling exaggerated stories from their porches and maidens dotting the streets running errands or running their stands and shops.

He tugged absently at the ends of his graying mustache, brow furrowing deeply. No, something felt deeply wrong. Pirates had attacked, the High Chancellor's dispatch had claimed urgently—Danarus Draene himself had stamped the message. Tye trusted the Chancellor little, and liked him even less, yet the order had borne the king's seal. He'd had no choice but to obey, leaving the capital practically defenseless, guarded only by those arrogant, preening Draene retainers.

The realization sent an unpleasant shiver crawling down his spine, though he tried shaking it off. "Send word to—"

"Commander!" called a guardsman from below, interrupting Tye's brooding. "The lord approaches! We found him!"

Tye lifted his chin to spot the man ascending the bluff—a rotund figure trudging vigorously uphill, breathing heavily with exertion.

"About bloody time. Let me have a word with him," Tye relented, eager to make his report. As he neared, the man's features resolved into clear detail: a ruddy-faced nobleman with ocean-blue eyes glittering merrily beneath a thick, walrus-like mustache the color of wet sand. His hair was similarly hued, tangled by salt and wind, and a spray of crimson freckles speckled his cheeks. Despite his girth, powerful arms strained against the fabric of his tunic, a testament to a lifetime spent wrestling nets and hauling prize catches from the sea.

"Lord Marinus," Greff whispered quickly, filling Tye in. "A minor lord, but well-liked. His family has governed Salty Point for generations."

"Marinus?" Link's father questioned aloud. "Didn't the parchment name Petty-Lord Fendall? Where is he?"

The lieutenant's shoulders lifted in a bewildered shrug.

"Never mind that now, here he comes. I will deal with him I suppose."

The lord reached them at last, panting lightly, his cheeks flushed from the climb. "Commander Tye, is it?" he boomed jovially, extending a meaty hand in greeting. "Welcome to Salty Point! Glad to see you made it—though a mite slower than most, I must say! Not sure why the Royal Guard would trouble to come all this way, but here you are and here I am at your service."

Tye grimaced inwardly at the jab, forcing himself to accept the handshake firmly. "Your roads leave much to be desired, Lord Marinus. The marshes swallowed our pace."

Marinus chuckled heartily, clearly amused. "Roads? No wonder you've lagged behind! Roads are for milkmaids and plowmen. If you'd asked me, I'd have shown you the fisherman's path—runs just beyond the bogwood. Dry as bone in high summer, though I suppose for city men it might still feel a bit damp!"

The lord's booming laughter echoed across the bluff, irritating Tye. The Commander clenched his jaw but relented, biting back a retort.

"A fisherman's path," Tye said stiffly. "We marched nearly eight hundred armored men. Such trails aren't exactly marked clearly on any map. The horses couldn't make Keaton or Cuccos out of any of it either."

"Ah, maps are just as useless as horses here, Commander!" Marinus waved a thick-fingered hand dismissively. "A man's got to feel the land, hear the whispers of the marsh. Trust a marshlander—they'll never steer you wrong. Just like a good sturdy boat!"

Tye regarded him coolly, impatience simmering beneath a veneer of tolerance. "Perhaps next time, Lord Marinus," he said dryly. "Though pray to the Goddess there won't be one."

Marinus laughed heartily again, missing—or ignoring—Tye's irritation completely. He slapped his broad belly proudly. "Indeed! But if ever again you're in need, Commander, just follow the scent of smoked silverfin. Best fish you'll ever taste, I promise!"

The lord then blinked with the revelation. "Say, did you know folks come from leagues around just for our Salty Point silverfin? You've never tasted anything like it! Fresh from the Wandering Sea, silver as moonlight, and feistier than a sweet Zora bride on her wedding night!" the man said with a full-belly laugh.

"And how would you know that?" Tye groaned, growing impatient by the man's delay and japes.

"Well, for instance," the man continued without skipping a beat. "A man once trekked all the way from Akkala just for a bite—clear across the kingdom—took one taste and declared he'd gladly drown here, so long as he was buried with one of our fish in his mouth! And that's the goddess honest truth I tell ya!"

The man laughed again, loud and rumbling. Greff grinned uncertainly, but Tye merely cleared his throat, his patience finally at its limit.

"I am sure your catches are remarkable," Tye interjected dryly, cutting Marinus's tale short. "But I haven't come here to buffet on fish or embark on a pleasure barge. We were summoned on dire tidings, my lord—pirates reportedly attacking your port and Cucco Cross. Yet I see nothing of the sort nor when we made our way through the Cross. Explain yourself. What is the scale of this incursion?"

Lord Marinus's laughter faded abruptly, his walrus mustache twitching as though slightly offended. "Pirates, eh? Ah yes. 'Incursion.' A bold word for a handful of salt-sick raiders. Came ashore shouting and waving blades, true enough—but mostly falling over themselves. Pitiful really. My lads at the watchtower and holdfast there yonder drove them off without breaking a sweat. Sent them swimming for their ships with their breeches round their ankles." He gave a smug smile, adjusting his belt proudly. "Hardly worth writing home about, Commander."

Tye's gut tightened, anger simmering beneath his carefully controlled expression. "You drove them off," he repeated, voice dangerously low. "Days ago? And what of Petty-Lord Fendall?"

"Indeed, " Marinus nodded cheerily. "No need troubling the capital over something so minor, I say! And as for old man Lord Fendall, he's been resting at sea for some ten years now, Seven Maidens bless and watch him." The plump Lord made a gesture as if to beg solemnity to the heavens. He then returned his attention to the commander. "Seems whoever sent word to you good folks at the capital was a bit…excitable?"

"Excitable," Tye echoed, bitterness thickening his tone. Behind him, Greff shifted uneasily. Tye's gaze swept once more across the placid village, calm waters glittering mockingly beneath the midday sun. "And what of the neighboring hamlets to the south?"

Lord Marinus stroked his walrus mustache thoughtfully, ocean-blue eyes sparkling beneath wind-tangled, sand-colored hair. "Well, Commander, no promises," he said with an easy shrug, scratching absently at the ruddy freckles that peppered his cheeks, "but I rather doubt any pirate crew would be bold—or foolish—enough to slip past our watch unnoticed." He gestured grandly toward a distant wooden tower that stood like a thin spear against the horizon. "See yonder? Any trouble brews, and we set the alarm. Those beacons of ours catch flame faster than a pirate's sails catch wind. Like candles they run down along the coast."

He guffawed, shoulders shaking merrily, pleased with his own wit. " And if, by some miracle, any rogues slip past our keen eyes, rest assured, our ships at anchor shall introduce them personally to the Zora old gods beneath the waves—long before they're close enough to steal so much as a goat."

Tye followed the lord's thick finger pointing at the small wooden watchtower crowned by a mound of dry straw and timber, feeling a cold suspicion slither deeper through his veins. Beacon or no beacon, something was undeniably wrong. Quiet shores and smiling fisherfolk didn't align with panicked reports delivered straight to the Chancellor's hand.

It was then Tye realized something was most assuredly amiss, as sure as sunset. Who stood to gain from sending the entire Royal Guard chasing ghost stories to a remote coastal backwater? His pulse quickened, dread pooling heavily in his chest. Four days away—four days from the capital. Four days from his Majesty and the Princess he swore to guard with his life—not to mention, his wife and Link. From whatever dark design was unfolding even now, with only the capital watch and House Draene's retinue left behind only to defend.

Yet, here stood Marinus, chuckling jovially, proud chest puffed and mustache bristling, completely untroubled. Tye's lip curled bitterly. He knew little of pirates, but deception he recognized well enough or at least the workings of one. And somewhere in this placid port lay a truth yet unspoken, lurking beneath depths calmer than they ought to be.

"Then let us hope your men see clearly, my lord," Tye murmured darkly, glancing toward Greff with barely contained irritation. "For our battalion has endured enough of swamps and empty warnings. My men long to return to stone roads and honest ground."

"Ah, honest ground?" Marinus chuckled, clapping Tye's shoulder companionably, oblivious to the commander's simmering anger. "There's naught more honest than the waves of the sea! It'll tell you plainly where not to tread—often with a good dunking too! Ha!"

Tye tightened his jaw, suppressing a retort, knowing this fisherman-lord's boasting was the least of his worries. His eyes narrowed as he studied Salty Point one last time, certain that no hidden dangers lurked beneath its calm facade. This whole campaign was a waste, but why? And Goddess help him, he feared they'd left Hyrule's heart unguarded for nothing more than a fisherman's tale.

"Commander?" Marinus prodded uncertainly. "Something wrong?"

Tye straightened abruptly, jaw clenched tight. "We need fresh horses and supplies for the journey, Lord Marinus," he ordered sharply. "And you're coming with us."

"Yes, most assuredly, fresh horses and supplies," The petty lord nodded and repeated absentmindedly before the realization washed over him like a wave. "And I'm coming—" the man nearly choked, "I'm coming with you!?"

Tye gave a nod to one of his men to prepare. "Yes, we're going to need you to lead the way with that secret route you're so fond of. We leave immediately."

"Leave? But Commander, you've just arrived, and what of the town? I can't possibly just up and leave, who's going to govern the people—"

Tye silenced him with a glare like steel. "—Pray, my lord, that silverfin of yours travels well. You're going to need it to keep you comfort or your belly full. Because by the Goddesses, we'll not waste another hour on marsh or sea if I say so unless it means we get to our destination faster than our feet can carry us."

He spun on his heel, boots grinding into salty sand, dread hastening his steps down the bluff. He could only hope they weren't already too late.

Authors Note: I know, a short chapter. I apologize for that and being tardy. But don't fret, the next one will be coming very soon because I am almost done with it. So just a few days. I'm sorry it has taken me so long to get these out but I've been so busy, with not only my work but also trying to get the audiobook version up and running on youtube by releasing more episodes. I'm a one man band as they say. Luckily, I got sick this week and it gave me the time I needed to get to writing. I hope the fever didn't make me write too wildly. That being said, I also had to revise my outline and change events. I'm looking to wrap up this arc so we can return to the main story sooner rather than later. I hope you enjoy and keep a close eye out. The next one will drop shortly. Much sooner than the gap between this and the last one.