“Oh come on.”
“No.”
“Please. Or I’ll do it myself.”
“What do you think Kafei will say about it?”
“If I say what about what?”, that one entered the reception of the Inn right in that moment with his father.
“Oh nothing.”, Link dismissed the question.
“Link wants me to give him two more – ”, it spouted from Aryll, which Link tried to halt instantly by clapping his hand on her mouth, “Earlop piarthingv.”
“What?”, chuckled Kafei when Link squinted his eyes and distorted his lips.
“Forget it. She won’t to it anyway.”
“He faid, den he’ll dou id fimfelf.”
“Will you shut up now?”, hissed Link and pressed his hand closer, yet immediately pulled it away disgusted because his sister had licked it off in defence.
“He’s got the right to know it.”
“What’s with the jam in the door?”, Esra had arrived for supper as well. “By the Giants, Link!”, she chuckled. “You look like a Chuchu kissed you!”
“Almost. Aryll slobbered onto my hand.”
“And you deserve it.”, that one said definite, one hand on her hip.
“If that’s all, would you bother letting me through? I’m starving.”, demanded Esra and Dotour made way, puffing slightly. “Kafei?”
“What? Oh – yes.”, he startled. “You’ve really regained some weight.”
“Wouldn’t hurt you either.”
“I prefer walking through slim doors as well. After all it is a proven fact that muscular mass takes in considerably less space than fat.”, meant Kafei.
“And also looks much better.”, Link couldn’t help at Dotour’s expression. “I mean, there are also beautiful bulky people. But if – everything wobbles – with every step – ”
“That is called solid woman power with clout protection.”, boasted Esra and strutted in her tight, yellow dotted blue dress in direction of the kitchen, her thick fur coat meanwhile hung over her arm.
“Give her tentacles, throw her into the ocean and she passes off as an Octorok.”, mumbled Aryll, whereupon Dotour closed his eyes with a soft smile. “Now, Kafei? What do you think of Link’s wish? I mean, you love him at least as much as I love jewellery and my old telescope. Can you permit him to disfigure himself the way I did?”
“At least. And therefore I don’t care how much he disfigures his body. If he already doesn’t keep involuntary scars, please grant him the voluntary ones. In this state nobody believes him that he’s tough enough to constantly save the world.”
“So you think I look like a wimp?”, murmured Link.
“That’s not what I said. I said I love you the way you are. And if that means you’ve got twenty holes in your ears and one in the nose. Oh yes – and one in the navel. But I’d discourage you from that. It’s even more sensitive.”
“Damnit!”, snarled Aryll. “Bad enough that you counted them! But how do you know about that one down there?”, she pointed onto her belly but Kafei only smiled teasingly.
“A very beautiful faintly blue crystal, set in silver.”
“I want to see that!”, it came from Link.
“How do you know about it?”, Aryll repeated more energetic.
“Is there any material at all you can’t look through?”, asked Link.
“Distance.”, considered Kafei. “If something is too far away – or if it is veiled by a kind of spell.
“Can somebody teach me such a spell?”, moaned Aryll.
“What does my brain look like.”, Link wanted to know, but Kafei only rolled his eyes. “That bad?”
“Oh my gosh – no! Esra’s right! You two really can make one feel the need of eating something alive! And the male part of you can even turn me on by it.”, sighed Kafei. “Do you really want that, Link?”
“Know what my brain looks like?”, he chuckled and earned himself a bored stare.
“You know what I mean.”
“No worries. I lost the need for more holes in my ears.”
“Just as well. It’d pierce myself some, if that wouldn’t make me stand out even more.”
“Stand out even more?”, Aryll laughed disbelievingly. “You? Is that even possible?”
“Four piercings wouldn’t be as common as two. That would harden concealment considerably.”
“As earlobe piercings are of course the biggest obstacle in terms of concealment regarding you.”
“Do not adjudicate on matters you have no idea about.”, Dotour piped up at last. “Kafei? Please do me a favour and bring me some cucco soup, garlic bread and a cool apple to the bedroom. I just remembered that I have to do something very important.”
“O- of course – ”, faltered his son and only looked after him, until he disappeared around the corner.
“What was that all about now?”, chuckled Link, looking out through the still open door as well.
“No clue. But I’m under the strong impression that I’d better hurry up with the soup.”
With only three steps he was at the counter and crossed it with a lively leap, off to the kitchen. So fast, he had nearly slammed the door into the cook’s face. Hastily apologising to her, he searched for two closable bowls and one plate, filled the bowls with freshly made cucco soup, grabbed some of the still warm garlic bread, the coolest apple he could find in a trice as well as two spoons and teleported into Anju’s office. After all he didn’t really want to startle his father. The bowls and the plate on his left arm, he knocked on the door with his right fist, very gingerly but coded and waited for a sign. When Dotour had asked him in, Kafei slipped inside swiftly and locked the door with a snap while he tried to get an overview of what was going on.
His father stood before the blazing ingel, hair bound together and held something long and thin into the flames. His left hand clutched an old small linen cloth. Kafei placed the dishes on the bedside table first and then went over to him, watching with curiosity. The object in his hand was a very sharp silver needle. Understanding what this meant, he went back to the plate, took the apple and pulled a dagger from his boot to cut the apple into wedges.
“They have overgrown, you know?”, of course Kafei knew.
“Do you really want that?”
“I have to. Can you do it nevertheless? Your fingers are more skilled. Understandably, only if you want.”
“You do realise that Esra will – ”
“She knows it anyway.”
Dotour passed the things in his hands to his son and preparedly sat down on the bed, from which he opened the lowest drawer of his bedside table and retrieved a little pouch from beneath his secret photographic album. Carefully he took out the two delicately crafted silver rings. Yet a bit shaky he pulled the thorn from one’s rear tubule, then from the other and placed everything beside him. Meanwhile the silver needle was gleaming already. Kafei went over with it and kneeled down on the floor in front of him. Dotour only nodded and reached for two apple wedges. Kafei cautiously took his left earlobe between his fingers with the cloth. He aimed quickly at the tiny scar and pierced it with the still hot metal spike. Pressing teeth and eyes shut, Dotour swallowed the brief pain without a sound. Kafei pulled the needle out fast enough for not causing any blisters. His father held both pieces of fruit onto the not even bleeding wound with a deep breath, one on the front, on one the back.
This procedure they repeated on Dotour’s right ear. Done, Dotour let his left hand sink and Kafei examined the recent hole. The earlobe was faintly flushed, but not bleeding. So he had been fast enough. Now he took one of the earrings, but Dotour gave him the other. Puffing about his father’s memory, he took that other ring, drilled the thorn lightly into a still cool spot of one apple wedge, stuck it into the hole and closed the ring with caution. Then he waited a while, did the same with the other ring and eventually let himself sink onto his feet.
“Don’t look at me like this, Kafei. That – ”
“Was necessary.”, his expression was blank yet certain of the rightness of the act. “You know – no cuddling for at least a week, especially no sex and withhold yourself at sports.”
“Kafei. Do you really think, – ”
“I’m just saying. Oh and don’t you dare consider hurting yourself on something. Even if – ”
“Yes, yes. No potions, no fairies. I like to suffer.”, smirked Dotour.
“Would you rather want to eat at the table or in bed?”
“I’d prefer the table, to be honest.”
“Very well.”
Kafei ate the apple wedges, causing his father to giggle, raised, let the other things disappear beneath the photographic album, took the meal onto his arm, brought it to the table and pulled a chair back for his father. Waiting for him to stand in front of the chair, he gazed into the flames, lost in thoughts. He adjusted the chair and sat down opposite to him.
“Chjira.”, Kafei only nodded upon it. “Mna aishajar, athaimamna.”
“Mna aluk aishajar, Athani.”
Silent, they uncovered the soups and started eating, Kafei deliberately holding the spoon in his left hand. With the other he reached for his father’s free hand and held it, resting on the table.
“The Gerudo caught him.”, said Kafei, after his third slice of bread
“Who?”
“The Beast.”, it took some seconds for Dotour to understand and figure.
“Don’t say – that one who’s – abducted – and molested all those children – more than twenty years ago?”
“And murdered Ilethi.”
“Murdered? The poor girl, he – ”
“Gutted her, yes.”, the memory of it filled him with nausea, but also such anger his eyes nearly began to glow. “He answers to the description. They could just keep him from raping another boy. He will be arriving tomorrow.”
“A public execution?”
“I gave this a fair bit of thought. On the one hand it would crown his deeds, but I just couldn’t live with having taken him out without a good example for society. I want to give him the lesson of his life. In objectivity, as the King I have no choice. If I won’t have him executed – ”
„I understand. But that never bothered you.”
“No.”
“So he will hang.”
“Shouldn’t he, according to you?”, Kafei looked deep into his father’s eyes. “The benevolent mercy of the new King? I believe there are better people to demonstrate that on.”
“You are right.”, sighed Dotour to his soup bowl, but his breath instantly got caught on the next statement and his look zoomed at Kafei again.
“And no, he won’t hang.”
For a while they just looked at each other. Actually a short while, which however, by their silence, the hellish crackling of the flames and the earsplitting clacking of the wall clock in the hush, was strung to breaking point.
“Anju wants to see this monster burn, and I grant her this wish as much as I would marry her another time. Or at least I hope that I’m not my worst enemy on it.”
~o~0~O~0~o~
Fascinated, Link studied every ever so small movement of Anju’s. It was unusual that she drank wine. She herself hadn’t been sure at first either, but there was a reason. Except for the two, the dining room was empty. Tatl had left it last, five minutes previously. The candle on the table was almost burnt down. Also the other lights had been doused by Anju. So there was only the ingel, the candle, a cup of tea, a half empty glass of wine and the two of them.
“What’s the matter?”, Anju broke the quiet pondering.
“I could ask you. What do you toast?”
“How do you come to the assumption I would toast something?”
“You never drink wine. Why today?”
“There is something to celebrate.”
“Oh yes. That’s just what you look like.”, scoffed Link.
“He was caught.”
“Who?”
“The Beast.”
“Don’t say, that child molester? Yes – I heard of him – wasn’t that before my birth?”
“It was more than twenty years ago. He never got caught. As it seems, he had settled down in the Desert. Took the Nomades to his task. That’s why nobody had heard from him again, I presume. You rarely get to hear what’s going on in the Desert. Now he fell into the hands of a Gerudo-patrol. Allegedly they caught him when he meant to rape a Hylian boy in front of his family that lives in the Desert. A Mage was required to overbear him. Fortunately there was one in the group. Tomorrow he will be extradited to Ikana.”
“They bring him here?”, Link’s eyes narrowed suspicious. “Why?”
“He used to be a an esteemed Suro-Master until they saw through his game. Igos himself caught him when – ”, she took a deep breath and curled her lips, “Ilethi was a good friend of Kafei and me. She was even younger than us then. It was night. Igos burnt her with a torch before I could see her. Fortunately. Yet not for Kafei. He had tried to save her while Igos had fought against that monster. I’d only watched the fight from distance. It was terrible. That was the only time I’d seen the magic Igos was capable of. And still he’d escaped him. I only remember that Kafei was smeared in blood from top to bottom. He didn’t speak a word for a week. Not hat he was distraught – he was furious. Vanished into the training rooms alone, every day and hammered at the sandbags until they were empty – and his hands bloodied up. Do you still ask yourself, why we allowed our daughter to learn how to kill a fully grown Dodongo with only two sword strikes at the mere age of seven?”, the dim candlelight and the fiery glow from behind let her empty expression appear eerie.
“Even I take longer.”, aspirated Link merely, unable to comment anything before that rhetorical question. “That was the posters he had commissioned, right? I only saw him talking to the pressman. But I didn’t hear what they discussed. When is the execution?”
“Right at the beginning of next week, when the first ray of sunlight hits the tree before the castle. Kafei said, he won’t be there.”
“I can comprehend that.”, meant Link with a faint nod and leaned back. “I think, if I was him, I’d beat that guy dead with a wooden spoon.”
~o~0~O~0~o~
No breeze was blowing. The morning air stood still and glacial in the empty alleys and squares of Clock Town. Gentle fog laid in the air, like a silken veil before the dull, faintly lightblue sky. Some rays of sunlight refracted in the cold particles of the fog. The fresh snow of night was almost untouched. Further away, a cat had left its tracks. Link stretched and inhaled the fresh air to the fullest. Then he locked the door to the Town Hall again and pulled his grey cloak tighter.
Even before he could set his first step into the white magnificence, he noticed another trail. Dotour had apparently left for his morning rounds already. When he though meant to trace the footprints, in hope to catch him outside the Eastgate somewhen, a poster caught his eye. It hung on the back of the Milkbar. He looked around and found one on the passage to the Northquarter as well and another just next to the door of the Town Hall. Only that made him see that there was not just one trail. The snow was everything but untouched.
He turned around again and read. The posters had in fact been printed overnight. Link huffed. Never had he witnessed that an execution was literally shouted from the rooftops. Even to the big bell on the Milkbar’s roof which had once adorned the veranda of the inn, stuck a poster. Shaking his head, Link went down to the Eastsquare. Next to each door hung one of the posters.
When passing by, he greeted the watchman who clutched a steaming cup of Corabeanwater. Link could smell the drink well in the neutral air. Merely to enjoy the deserted town, he took the detour via the Southquarter. Normally he was too lazy for morning excursions, if he didn’t exactly have to do them. But after Anju’s message had brought him a restless night, he just needed to get out and clear his head, if however it would be difficult in the face of the posters.
The moment he entered the Southsquare, the Postman who was doing his first round of the day, disappeared behind the Clock Tower. Somehow Link was happy seeing him in boots, long pants and the red pullover of his winter uniform. Though the looked even more ridiculous in it with his usual way of running than he did at more pleasant temperatures, but at least Link knew that the man indeed cared a little for his health. Accompanied by more posters, Link continued his walk towards West Clock Town. Also there the torches were still lit, to give off some heat. Ice crystals embellished the withered plants in the troughs and the thatched roof topping half the alley. Finally he spotted him.
Armed with a shoulder bag filled with posters, a can of glue and a brush, he stood next to the closed Bank and smeared some of the adhesive onto the wall. His dark blue winter coat with purple died fur collar and the red woollen scarf matched his head perfectly. He had stuck his long purple shimmering blue hair into a bun with five wooden needles. Completely in thoughts he smacked the paper against the wall and startled lightly when Link addressed him.
“Good morning.”
“What? Oh. Yes. Good morning.”
“Done with the training?”
“That is my training for today.”, he nodded down to the bag and walked on, and Link stuck to his heels. “Kafei clearly ordered me to restrain myself.”
“So Esra doesn’t feel dumb?”
“More likely so that she feels dumb.”, smirked Dotour and pointed on his earrings. “Let’s not be so openly spiteful.”
“Did you actually – is that my fault?”, gaped Link.
“No. It was long overdue. I simply didn’t have the courage to actually do it, until last night.”
“Don’t tell me you pierced them anew yourself?”
“No. I am not that stupid, after all. Kafei.”
“Does he understand it?”
“Likely more than I do, I think.”, Dotour sighed and, with his look on a milk can wrapped in a wool cloth in front of the Swordsman’s School’s door, stopped. “Oh. It looks like Cremia has been awake for a long while as well.”
In the very moment the door was being opened and a sleepy Ydin bent down for the can. Only vaguely she noticed that she was being watched. Curious, she straightened with the can, but had to look twice to recognise Dotour.
“What is is now?”, was her dazed morning greeting when she identified the bag and can of clue.
“The Beast was caught.”, there was no real enthusiasm in his words.
“You’re not serious, are you?”
“I am.”
“Thank Heavens!”, she sighed depleted, trudged towards him and hugged him quite awkwardly due to the milk and glue.
“No. The Gerudo. And please be careful.”
“Oh sure. Or we’ll glue together.”, she smiled tired.
“No. Not that. But – ”
“My goodness – when did you have them pierced again?”
“Last evening. Kafei had a heart and helped me.”
“Oh is there anything the boy doesn’t do. Say, when is the execution? I desperately need to get rid of the bad apples.”
“What?”, murmured Link. “I mean – yes – dreadful what that guy has done – but why does everyone take executions for granted, just like a sunrise after night?”
“Maybe, because we grew up in a society in which it was common to; in light of the risk for repeated offences; not wanting to lock up criminals and release them again after a while?”, meant Dotour. “And this man clearly prove that he won’t stop. What is therefore, in the name of prevented future victims and in memory of those he had caused harm, wrong with hailing his death? Yes, every judge and hangman is also a culprit. But you have to differ – ”
“Whether an innocent or a guilty one dies.”, Link nodded understanding.
“Exactly. And Ydin – the execution is at the beginning of next week, at sun’s first ray in front of the castle.”
“So as usual. Thank you. I’ll get inside. Otherwise I’ll miss the execution because I get sick.”
“She worries to get a cold because she has to get rid of bad apples in a useful way.”, mumbled Link, watching Dotour gluing on the next poster. “At an exec– ”, suddenly the door opened again and Ydin scurried to Dotour’s bag.
“Frano is never going to believe me!”, she grinned when she pulled out one of the posters and pattered back into the house.
They could hear her opening and closing the inner door, then there was only silence. Dotour just stood there and gazed down to the Clock Tower, watched by Link. Slowly the silence became louder. The spitting of the torches. The faint movement of the guard so he wouldn’t freeze. Dotour’s calm breath. Link even heard his own heart beating. Somewhere some snow slid off a roof. Elsewhere it only fluttered. A crow called lonely outside the town walls. A faint breeze. Then Dotour plodded on, in direction of the Northtown, just as if he had waited on that breeze. More quiet than the watchman could ever be, Link followed him.
They made one more short stop behind the Clock Tower, went for a spin through the Northqarter. There they only found three fitting places for posters. For Link these were too many already. Gradually Link began to believe that Dotour only did that to do anything at all. Last he went to the tree. He tried several times to make himself put the brush against it. Then he pulled a sheet from the bag and held it to the stem. With a look at the slide, he let it sink again. This ritual he repeated for a long while, whereby he dropped a poster on the ground at each attempt. Eventually he dashed the glue can against the town wall with as much force as he could gather and collapsed against the tree with a loud, infuriated outcry. The gatekeeper already wanted to rush over to him, but Link stopped him with a plain gesture.
Only hesitantly Link began to step closer. Seeing the old man like this, saddened him. Runny desperate eyes looked back. He slowly kneeled to him, comfortingly took him in his arms, kissed his left cheek and nestled his to Dotour’s head, cautious not to touch his ear.
“Kafei doesn’t talk.”, Link whispered.
“N-no. He n-never t-talks. About s-such things he doesn’t t-talk. He c-can’t. The same idiot a-as me. T-tells others that they shall t-talk, but he himself sw-swallows - e-everything.”
~o~0~O~0~o~
No snow could be seen anymore, so crammed was the Imperial Village. Even from the roofs they had shoved all snow to find space up there. Also in the tree people hung, only to be able to attend the spectacle of the century. In front of the castle gate a podium had been set up, enthroned with a stake. From all corners of Termina and Ikana they had come, tightly wrapped in their winter cloaks. All tribes were present. Unaare, Nabooru’s successor, flanked by two warrioresses, stood next to the bundles of straw around the post in a fur coat and let her vigilant orange-yellow eyes drift across the crowd.
In spite of the press, icy cold crawled into every crack. For not freezing too much, Link had put on his full fighting gear under his winter cloak. As it was snowing a bit, he also wore his green cap. Slowly he progressed towards the podium, whereby he passed familiar and unfamiliar faces. Among them, too many children on the arms of one of their relatives. Without having intended to, Link found himself next to Ydin in the front row. On one arm she carried an old wickerbasket with putrid apples. For a greet she presented him with a timid smile, visibly freezing, in the arms of her husband. Franin and the sisters from the Ranch now stood on his other side. He was glad there was no sign of Anju and her children.
Suddenly one of the two gates was opened a bit. Instantly there was dead silence. The rattling of chains that were dragged through the snow could be heard. Footsteps. The shine of a torch wandered along the gate, around behind the podium, climbed the stairs.
In a purpure cloak, wearing a dragging black dress that was braided red, her royal tiara on the crimson pate, the torch in her right hand, Anju paced with frightening cold in the black framed sea blue eyes towards the place of execution. Seeing her like that, simply took Link’s breath away. He knew many of her faces by now. But the picture of an unscrupulous, dominant Queen had not been among them to the present moment. Even though she had nearly dropped her habit of constantly apologising for everything, it was very peculiar, yes downright alarming to know that this was one and the same woman.
Behind her, two masked Suro in black uniform with an alike bloodred eye on the chest, as red as their own, hauled a limp figure in a dirty linen shirt and no nicer pants. His bare hands and feet were held together with heavy steel chains, the shoulder length dark green hair hung flaccid and greasy from his uncovered head. Insanity writ large in his face. He had recent injuries in his face as well as on hands and feet and appeared to have suffered throughout the past days. Link remembered the torture Anju had had mentioned.
The two guards mounted the stake and dragged The Beast behind. Up, they chained him to the post. While the Suro jumped from the pile, Link could see Dotour crawling onto the stairs. Apparently he didn’t want to be seen, but able to intervene in case of emergency. Also the two Suro positioned themselves to the left and right of the pile. Anju began to speak the first words, to Unaare, in Hylian, so everyone would understand her.
“All hail, Unaare, leader of the Gerudo of Hyrule.”
“I as well greet Thee, Queen Anju-Anila of Ikana.”, she made a slight bow.
“As we all know what for we have gathered here, I mean to spare us long words in this cold. Therefore I ask Thee, is this the man, who was captured to prevent a crime?”
“Yes.”
“Good. For now, I have no more questions to Thee.”, she turned to the crowd. “People of Ikana, people of Termina, who you once were one and now have gotten together at this site. This man here,”, she pointed the torch on him, “Born under the name Hethalor Manichiju Elthésitur, is subject to charge today, to be he who is known everywhere as `The Beast´. In the past twenty-five years The Beast has, in seven known cases and presumably twice as many unknown cases, sexually and otherwise physically, abused children under the age of ten, in vicious manner. Additionally he has, in presence of witnesses, among which were my husband, the King of Ikana and Mayor of Termina and his predecessor King Igos the second of Ikana, brutally murdered the little Ilethi Yuylero.”
Even more overwhelming silence laid itself over the audience. Barely anyone had known that Kafei had been present. Many started to count. Link could hear them whisper, shocked by how old Kafei had been then, when he had seen this atrocity with his own eyes.
“I ask you, my folk, is this the man, these acts are to be blamed on?”, the approval roared through the crowd. “Can you say this to the best of your knowledge and belief?”, again approval. “So I ask you as well, Hethalor Manichiju Elthésitur, son of Isari and Hárun Elthésitur, are you, in light of my words, said man, also known as The Beast? Do you confess yourself guilty, in even just one of the mentioned crimes?”
“Guilty? Guilty of being a man with needs?”, he laughed, the lunacy clearly audible in his voice that was shaking from the cold.
“No man is capable of such, you monster!”, called out a woman from somewhere and cried with glee when Ydin threw one of her apples, which hit his shoulder.
“Is that all you can do, half-caste?”, he cackled and Ydin lunged again, but Link stopped her arm.
“You don’t talk to my wife like that, worthless fleabag!”, bellowed Frano and threw in her place, the crowd jeering on his side.
“Do you know each other personally or what?”, Link asked thunderstruck. “And what does he mean with half-caste?”, Ydin didn’t respond, but only glared up to the stake.
“I repeat,”, Anju calmed the mob with a move of her hand, “Do you confess yourself guilty?”
“Oh come on! You’ll burn me even if I haven’t done a thing! Admit it! The people want to see somebody burn today! So what! Then it’s me!”, the spittle downright sprayed from his mouth with each word that left his lips. “What do I have to lose? Light me up, you hylian whore! You can’t wait letting me burn! I can see how much that life and death decision gets you randy!”
The anger that flared up in Anju was palpable and visible in her eyes and Link already expected the stake to catch fire solely by that anger. Nevertheless Anju dropped nothing of her outward coldness. All others seemed to have lost words. Addressing the Queen of Ikana like an old acquaintance was a misdeed per se when not belonging to her circle. But publicly calling her a whore added high treason to the long list of his crimes. Yet it didn’t appear to bother him.
A quiet murmur and astonishment travelled through the silent crowd that suddenly began to part.
No crown, no tiara. Only a billowing mass of hair. A long purple cloak, waving like the hair to the pace of his fast, furious steps. As furious as those was his face. Under the cloak he wore one of Igos’ old gowns, a broad belt with the emblem of the Royal Family as golden buckle around the waist. On it hung Igos’ sword, which he had already used in the fight against the Shadow Beasts, in a fanciful scabbard. The deep black around his actually glowing eyes made them appear menacing and powerful.
After his cancellation had become known, nobody had reckoned he would turn up nevertheless. But Kafei had lost the fight with himself. He dashed without a look to the side through between Link and Cremia, who had made way as well. Without holding on or running up, he jumped onto the four cubits high podium and afterwards with such force onto the stake that the blow his cloak caused, exhausted Anju’s torch. In that moment Dotour was on the stage already and pulled his perplexed daughter-in-law downstairs. She was too frozen in shock for being able to move on her own.
Kafei reached for the sword of his great-great-uncle. As he pulled it from the sheath, the hard, sharp blue steel cut through the chain that bound the man to the post. With the left hand he pushed him down onto the wooden planks, whereby the latter tumbled twice and flabbergasted stared back up to him. He stuck back the sword and in mid jump down he pulled one of his daggers from the boot. Barely; almost soundlessly; landed, he seized the man by the collar and dragged him back to the steep stack, where he pushed him against the straw by the hair and pressed the dagger to his throat. In a brief moment Link had been able to catch another glimpse on Kafei’s eyes: they now gleamed in a bright turquoise green, nearly as bright as Luminous Stone in darkness.
“That you just called the Queen of Ikana a whore, we will forget for now.”, he hissed in a way each and every one could hear him as loud as The Beast in front oh him – and immense power Sirileij had once Link told of, with the illustrious name `Dragon’s Tongue´. “So here you are again. Do you remember me?”
“And how. You snivelled like a girl. Not even she snivelled like that.”
“Because she was fortunately dead before she could get aware of the pain.”, snarled Kafei. “And what about the others? How many were there? Tell me. People like you like to keep their personal lists. Well? How many?”
“You don’t want to know.”, Hethalor only grinned gloatingly.
“Just as well. Maybe it’s better this way. For all.”
“A bad king you are. Making your mouth filthy with foreign tongues.”
“In this sense, we are dead even, aren’t we? Two filthy old acquaintances, who still have a teensy-weensy score to settle. Did you actually think you would make a grand exit here? Bear the brief agony? Maybe enjoy?”, neither flinched a bit when Kafei slowly pulled the dagger over the man’s left cheek, followed by a silent rivulet of blood. “I heard her. She is right. No man is capable of something like that. You are no man. So I won’t allow you to leave this world as a man.”
He stepped back, threw the dagger down so it got stuck in the wood and lifted his left arm. The chains obeyed him and bound the man who had been made helpless by spells, to an inexistent wall, facing the audience. With one grasp Kafei tore his shirt off. That revealed elongate erythemata that were spread all over his torso. Some were matted with blood.
“I won’t allow you to die a dignified death, no matter what I promised my wife in a moment of magnanimity. If you think you have been tortured the past days, you will crave after the whip in the coming seconds.”
Again Kafei pulled the old sword and Dotour came hasting back up, but was stopped by a transparent, faintly pink shimmering shield. The Suro who hadn’t left the construction, had raised an arm towards Dotour. This gesture signified Link that it was Sirileij. Unmistakably she shook her head.
When Kafei pulled the sword up and drew the first, by the distance, thin cut with the slanted broad tip on the man’s torso, Link could hear children cry already. Many began to leave the square. With each cut, a little more blood flowed and with each spilt drop and each of Hethalor’s cries of pain, more and more citizens left the site. In the corner of his eye he could see Ydin twitch lightly every time Kafei did a cut, and nevertheless she didn’t take her eyes off. Dotour fell onto his knees and Romani ran off as well as she could, followed by her sister and boyfriend. A little further away Link finally spotted Aryll. Yet only when she turned to go. Her friend Doria stayed some more moments, until she noticed Aryll’s absence and ran after her.
Meanwhile, after a time that had felt like endless days, Kafei stuck back the bloody sword, reached for his dagger and even tore down the pants of the man. At that point most had fled. The last did now. To Link everything happened in slow motion.
“And that, you blighter, is for Ilethi.”, gnarled Kafei and grabbed Hethalor’s genitals.
From his position he could barely see Kafei pulling the dagger through. With a last loud scream Hethalor threw his head into the neck. Ydin bewilderedly dropped the basked. Frano was no less shocked. Also Sirileij backed away with wide opened eyes. Her shield vanished when she turned and teleported away. Anju hurtled off, back into the castle, holding a hand to her mouth. Dotour hurried after her as good as his legs could carry him at the moment. Kafei smacked the bloody flesh onto the floor, wiped his dagger clean on one of the scraps of clothes and disappeared while he branched off, the eyes again as red as the exsanguinating body he left behind. With a loud chinking of the chains Hethalor sunk into his own blood, panting, the eyes even more widened than Sirileij’s previously, the gaze directed into nothingness, crouching up from pain and cold. The first drop of his essence of life fell into the still untouched snow before the podium.
A soft wind blew through Link’s bared hair, billowed his cloak. His cap also moved in the wind. The blank eyes only oriented up, he noticed vaguely how Frano and Ydin lastly left the square. Only the basket stayed.
An almost peaceful winter quiet laid itself over the Imperial Village of Ikana, merely broken by the whispering of the wind, the dripping of the blood and the gasping of the man. He coughed. Then silence again. For a while. A sad loneliness. Not even when the moon had been about to crash onto the plains before the Canyon, it had been so silent between these walls and rocks, so ghostly.
“W-who are you?”, he finally aspirated to Link.
“The proof that there is a positive as well as negative match for each and every one.”, he answered deliberately. “I thought I had found my negative self. How wrong I had been. It lies here in front of me.”, he paused. “Kafei is right. The Twili shall know what they deal with when you enter their realm. I know many who have done gruesome things and deserve a second chance. You are not among those who would receive my vote. And as it seems, the Goddesses do still stand on the side of one of their voices. Make it better in your next life. You obliterated a lot of time. The least of it was your own. Because believe me, I know the value of time. Much better than anyone, I grant.”, also he turned to go lastly.
“P-please – ”
“What.”, replied Link, turning his head back slightly.
“Don’t go. I – I am sorry.”
“Your cognisance comes late. And I can’t buy it.”
Despite all Link turned back to him, looked at him for a second and climbed the podium. With a last look at the man he took off his black cloak and spread it over the huddled figure. Without another word he jumped down, took Ydin’s empty basked and walked off.
“Thanks.”, the man breathed after him.
Though Link halted another time, but only to take out a magical flute he had gotten from Kafei and play the Song of Soaring. With the last feather that glided onto the trampled snow, Hethalor closed his eyes. For the last time in this life.
~o~0~O~0~o~
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