Chapter 4: Saint Circe

Rodrigo:

Rodrigo said several prayers to Saint Circe for guidance even as he and Blizzard made their way to the library. There, he ran through Circe's gospel in their holy book, the Veritas. Despite having learned and read them countless times, the prince racked the passages for anything he thought might help him bring Zehra to the Father.

"What do you think, Blizzard? There are so many beautiful passages about the blessed healer." Rodrigo held up a cloth and took a deep breath. "Saint Circe, I know I can lead Zehra to the Father. If I can lead her to his love." Blizzard let out a soft whine and nuzzled him with his icy snout. As he did so, Rodrigo noticed he was not alone in the library.

"Abuelo, madre." He saw his grandfather and mother at another table with Tremor and his mother's dragon, Winter, wrapped around it. His mother was visiting, having arrived the day before. Don Alvaro also joined them while a middle-aged man with graying black hair sat across from King Sancho. Rodrigo's eyes widened, and his heart raced when he saw the white Christogram sigil embroidered across his black tunic.

"Grandmaster Anton," Rodrigo muttered to himself and tried listening to the conversation via Blizzard. Sancho shook the table when he tapped his finger against the wood.

"Are you sure?"

"Si, your majesty. My agents have never failed me in this regard. We cannot confirm if Selim orchestrated the assassination attempt, but only that Suleiman has survived and that Selim is still the Grand Kazasker."

"Huh!?"

Blizzard had to cover Rodrigo's mouth with his tail to keep him from shouting. There had been an assassination attempt on the Invadores Caliph? Why had the word not spread? Rodrigo forgot about Zehra and concentrated on the conversation.

"Hmm, unsurprising. Suleiman is no military man. He needs Selim to keep me at bay and my dog of a son-in-law at heel."

Tremor growled at the mention of Alfonso, and Rodrigo did his best not to grimace. His stomach hardened a little hearing his grandfather speak that way about his father, but the prince found no means of countering him either. Instead, he forced the thoughts aside but also noticed his mother grimace. Still, she remained silent and caressed Winter's snout.

"You aren't wrong, padre. Alfonso and his top nobles make good sport in joking about Sulieman's weakness. He has even included me in talks on offensive action if Selim ever died."

"He does listen to you? Perhaps Alfonso is not a complete fool then."

Sancho smiled at his daughter, which soon spread to Berengaria and Rodrigo, plus their dragons. Don Alvaro asked if she could go into more details about the plans, but Berengaria insisted she could not betray Alfonso's trust unless it threatened Tierrero. He grumbled something before Grandmaster Anton got them back on topic.

"Here's the interesting part, your majesty. One of the slaves we rescued belonged to the Grand Vizier's nephew. He heard a lot of talk, and apparently, the stress was taking a toll on Suleiman. He's becoming paranoid, seeing plots against him everywhere. However, that might not be paranoia by this point."

Rodrigo listened more and more as the adults conversed on further information from Anton's agents. From there, they discussed how this would impact Tierrero and Envidia. Berengaria and Don Alvaro spoke up, but Sancho remained the head of the conversation. "Si, gracias, Anton. I shall put this info to good use. What do you think, Rodrigo?"

"Ahh, I wasn't eavesdropping, abuelo, madre, Grandmaster!"

Rodrigo scrambled, almost falling out of his chair and bowing before Sancho with Blizzard. His efforts made the others burst into laughter. Berengaria got up and embraced her son, who was still bright red. By now, he had reached his mother's height but still felt small in her arms. "It's alright, Rodrigo. Come, sit with us." Sancho sat up a little and waved him over, but Rodrigo's heart fluttered when he noticed his grandfather struggle and almost trip.

"Abuelo!?"

"Padre!?" Rodrigo and his mother raced over, but Don Alvaro caught him.

"Ahh, gracias. I'm fine, Rodrigo, I'm fine."

Sancho assured him, but Master Anton guided some gleaming water from his christogram around the King, who breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down. Rodrigo always saw his grandfather as a near-invincible titan, but this sent a shiver down his spine. The harsh reminder of Sancho's advancing age chilled the prince to his core. His grandfather could not leave him. 

"Is everything alright, Abuelo?"

Rodrigo did not know if he asked for the conversation he heard or Sancho's near tumble. However, the king nodded and sat back down, looking as strong as ever. Rodrigo sat down between him and his mother but was still shaken upon realizing he was now at the center of their conversation.

"Si, we're just discussing developments among the enemy. The Knights of Circe have many agents in their capital and other key cities."

"Speaking of the enemy, I understand you're spending a great deal of time with that odd girl you took prisoner the other day." Berengaria's slight smirk and Anton's harsher glance made Rodrigo yelp again.

"Ahh! It's not like that! We haven't done anything. Before the Father I-"

"Relax, Rodrigo. Blizzard is far too calm for you to be guilty of such things. Besides, you have another witness to clear you." Sancho laughed again and gestured to Don Alvaro, who joined him in laughter. "Still, an Invadores girl who wants to fight? These are strange times we live in. I'm still waiting on word from her father for a ransom payment. I can only imagine what his reaction will be once he finds out what she was doing."

Sancho's smile faded, and Rodrigo shivered with Blizzard when he saw the same fear in Anton's eyes. "Si, the poor girl."

"Abuelo. What if she did not go back? What if I convinced her to convert and join our side? Isabella could make her a chivalric maiden!" Rodrigo realized his words came out as pleading more than an honest suggestion, but he saw the intrigued looks in the others' eyes. Berengaria flashed him another warm smile and ruffled his hair.

"Mijo, you are amazing."

"Si."

Anton's smile returned, sending warmth to the prince's heart. Rodrigo sat up straighter before the towering figures around him. Blizzard, Winter, Tremor, and Bluefyre all nudged the prince on while panting. He explained how he wanted to save Zehra and lead her to the Father, giving her a chance she never had. Anton held his heart and performed a holy sign.

"Riquezarra is blessed to have such a loving young man as its future King."

"Si, Anton is right, Rodrigo. I'm very proud of you." Sancho pulled Rodrigo into a hug with Berengaria. The old man's crushing grip did little against the flood of emotion in Rodrigo already. He almost teared up hearing that, and Blizzard panted with Tremor. "Proud of me."

Rodrigo tried to imagine the words in his father's voice. "Grandmaster. I don't suppose you could suggest any good passages to read Zehra from the Veritas. I feel that Saint Circe is calling me to intercede for Zehra."

"Si, Saint Circe, an excellent choice. You could read her the gospels, my prince. But perhaps it would be more effective if you showed her the works of the Father."

Anton gestured to his sigil, and Rodrigo understood what he had to do. He nodded and inclined his head before departing with Blizzard and his mother. However, his smile faded a little as he thought more about who had not come with Berengaria.

"Madre, does Padre ever ask about me?"

"Ahh. Si, all the time. He's quite proud of you, Rodrigo, and how far you've come." Berengaria and Winter both smiled, but thick beads of sweat ran down their heads. Blizzard whined a little and groaned to his mother, who panted back with a similar answer as Berengaria. However, Rodrigo saw through this and tightened both fists as mist formed around him.

"Why does he never come and visit me like you?"

"He, he's a very busy man, Rodrigo. He's a King, plus you know how he and your abuelo go at each other. Also, Blanche is still too young to travel, and he hates being apart from her at this age."

"He never spends time with me when I am home. He never writes back to me when I tell him how my training is progressing. You and Abuelo always find time for me-"

Tears started to swell in Rodrigo's eyes as he thought about his father. He wondered if he really had one at all. Despite living across the sea in Royaume, Arnaut's father visited him several times a year, alongside his mother and a few siblings. Padre Benito likewise made regular trips to check up on him and Seraphina. However, Alfonso had never visited him since he came to Tierrero. Blizzard whined, and Rodrigo felt his dragon's emotions. He, too, longed to spend time with his father, Alfonso's dragon. However, both jolted when Berengaria took Rodrigo by the shoulders, and Winter met Blizzard's eyes.

"Mijo, listen to me! Your padre is a complicated man. He has trouble connecting with you because your other abuelo died when he was but a boy. He doesn't understand how to be a father. I've tried to help him, and he's improving with your sisters. Give him time, and he will see the man you are becoming and know Riquezarra is in good hands."

Rodrigo wiped away his tears before hugging Berengaria. Blizzard likewise nuzzled his mother. The prince knew she was right. He would achieve Rodrigo's Dream, and he would show Zehra the truth, the way, and the light.

"Si, I'll become a benevolent king one day. I'll make him proud of me!" Rodrigo declared. Yet, as he shouted this, the prince noticed Sancho's smile fade a little before he turned and departed.

Rodrigo prayed all night for guidance, and the following day, he led Zehra through the city of Corazón. Unlike the Invadores Empire, it was not Tierrero's official capital. The center of government was wherever the King and their court happened to be. The last four years saw Rodrigo brought across numerous towns and cities, but Corazón was ideal for his current mission.

"Come on, Zehra, we don't wait to be late."

Rodrigo beamed a smile while leading the young woman through the streets. Don Alvaro joined them alongside Bluefyre. However, Zehra turned green in the face and looked ready to vomit as she took in the wooden, stone, and brick buildings within the town's defensive walls. "Bleck? You call this a city?"

"It has everything we need."

Rodrigo gestured to the bustling streets and everything it encompassed. One building after another in good order, though none reached above the walls save the royal keep. The wooden buildings' sloped roofs contrasted with the stone structures' turrets. Smaller dirt streets separated the buildings with a more significant main cobblestone road, allowing a steady traffic flow. Blacksmiths hammered away crafting metal into armor, weapons, horseshoes, and everything else they might need. Tanners worked breakneck despite the fumes, fashioning saddles, quivers, and other works. Carpenters laid out shafts for polearms, pommels for blades, and crossbows.

"Humph, I suppose even barbarians know how to work." Zehra scoffed, but Rodrigo never grew tired of watching the people of Tierrero go about their duties with an almost military order. Laberors kept themselves busy maintaining buildings or walls while cleaners kept the streets sanitary and free of disease.

"¡Buenos días!" Rodrigo waved to members of a nearby baker's guild who laid out their freshest batches. "¡Buenos días, your highness! Blessed day."

"¡Buenos días, prince Rodrigo!"

A few farmers also waived to him as they brought their crop yields in via equerry-driven wagons.

"Buenos días." Don Alvaro joined in, and Rodrigo noticed Zehra's perplexed expression.

"You greet the commoners as if they were your equals?"

"Si, the Father loves them the same as any noble."

Rodrigo and Don Alvaro greeted a pair of groomsmen aiding a knight with his Equoferri. "Your majesty." The knight added and inclined his head. All around them, nobles and commoners alike carried out conversations or aided each other. Together, everyone seemed like an extended family interacting with each other.

"This is what a familial society is like, civilized girl." Don Alvaro met Zehra's disdain with his own and waved to a pair of stone masons laboring on the city walls, who waved back.

"Hola!"

Rodrigo smirked when he heard Zehra's stomach growl when they passed another baker's shop. Despite how much she resisted, he saw the longing in her eyes when she started at the fresh bread. "So you like our food then?" Rodrigo watched her squirm and try to look away.

"I suppose you barbarians know a few things about effective crops and food. How else could you get as big as minotaurs."

She muttered and gestured to the men around them, who all stood over six feet on average with muscular body types.

"I'll take a few rolls." Rodrigo set three silver marks down on a baker's counter and struggled to resist the fresh scent that danced around his nostrils. "You should eat. You're going to need the energy for the lesson." Rodrigo offered a roll to Zehra, then another to Blizzard and Bluefyre. Both dragons wagged their tails and licked him before wolfing down the treats.

As Zehra ate, Rodrigo heard her choke up a little as a pair of women passed them. Alvaro smacked her back, and Zehra breathed but then went pale as more women, some of whom reached six feet tall, walked by and conducted their business without men or taking charge of some mixed groups.

"How often did you go and see your cities?" Rodrigo asked.

"A few times a year," Zehra muttered.

"Under close escort, correct?" Alvaro added.

Zehra hid her eyes from them and seemed to shrink a little again. However, Blizzard smirked and nudged her in the direction of a shop. There, the girl trembled before a tall woman showing off glass wares she crafted.

The woman made deals with several men and two women, all on her own. Zehra's mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. She glared at Blizzard momentarily but then turned to the other women walking around. Some joined men, but those without men were greeted and treated with the same dignity and respect. Rodrigo smiled and petted Blizzard, who panted and licked his face before they pressed on.

"Hmm, so we're off to one of your little temples then?"

Zehra puffed up her cheeks and glanced towards a nearby church gleaming in the sunlight. However, Rodrigo shook his head. "All in good time. But not today. Instead, we're going to show you who the Father is." Rodrigo pulled Zehra along until they arrived. The building before them resembled the church from earlier with its spires and enormous Christogram. However, Rodrigo's eyes fixed themselves on the statue before it. A familiar woman stood over them in humble clothing with a halo around her head and the white Christogram sigil on her shirt.

"Humph, what is this place-" Zehra went silent and pale when she saw them. Dozens of men, women, and children moved about or approached the facility led by knights adorned with the same white sigil on their breastplates and a lumen man.

"The Brother Knights of Saint Circe the Healer. I believe you're familiar with their work."

Rodrigo gestured to a line of pale, scrawny, dirty, and abused people gathered before the building. The signs of slavery on their exposed skin sent a shiver down Rodrigo's spine no matter how often he saw it. A middle-aged woman garbed in a black nun's habit with the same white sigil on her chest. A middle-aged woman garbed in a black nun's habit with the same white sigil on her chest approached them with a warm smile.

"Prince Rodrigo, welcome back."

"Sister Beatrice, buenos días. Would you mind a few extra hands?"

"Always, Your Majesty. I believe your amigos are already here."

She gestured to the newly arrived refugees. Rodrigo smirked when he saw Seraphina and Arnaut together with Inferno. Together, they aided an aging woman. Arnaut helped her onto a sitting position, and Seraphina applied healing magic to her blistered feet. They assisted more refugees one after the other, losing themselves to the process and smiling at each other while Inferno howled and wagged his tail. However, their faces went bright red after seeing Rodrigo and Don Alvaro.

"Hola," Rodrigo chuckled.

The two scrambled away from each other and went about their work separately. Inferno growled at Rodrigo before following Arnaut. However, Zehra turned to Rodrigo with narrowed eyes. "What trickery is this? I thought you were going to teach me about your weak god?"

"No trickery. You want to see the Father. This is where he is, and this is what he does." Rodrigo walked over to a group of struggling refugees with Blizzard. Once there, he lifted a one-legged former slave into his arms while Inferno got into a playful stance before a few children, panting and wagging his tail in front of them. "It's ok. He won't bite." The children soon approached Inferno, who licked and nuzzled them into giggles. Zehra, however, scoffed and pouted again.

"How manipulative. These people are all property taken by your thieves and-" Zehra cut herself off when she saw Rodrigo's ice-cold glare. The prince loomed over her with Blizzard and watched the color leave Zehra's face.

"These are people made from the Father's love. If civilization means their suffering, I will fight that civilization."

Rodrigo grabbed Zehra by the hand and dragged her to a line of refugees who received bread, water, and clean clothes before being led inside the shelter. "Humph, Knights of Circe. Is this the kind of thing she did?" Zehra tried to avoid Rodrigo's eyes, but a slight warmth kindled his heart, hearing her ask such a question.

"Much more than this." Rodrigo handed out a piece of bread and then touched the cup, cooling the water. "Go on." He placed a bread basket into Zehra's hands and watched her grumble before handing the bread out to one refugee after another.

"Hmm, this is supposed to convince me? Slaves are far better off under civilized care where they can be properly attended to. They can live in real cities and proper housing instead of this squalor."

Zehra rolled her eyes and puffed up her cheeks again. Despite this, Rodrigo remained hopeful. Saint Circe would reach her soon enough. Each freed slave's expression upon seeing their freedom and new lives amplified this hope.

"Saint Circe, guide her."

Zehra muttered under her breath as she started handing out food to refugees. Don Alvaro likewise joined in while Rodrigo watched Zehra. Soon, Seraphina came into the line beside him and glanced at the young Invadores woman. Rodrigo saw a glimmer in her eyes, but she avoided his gaze.

"I'm surprised you did not want to help me in my mission."

"I think what you're doing for her, Rodrigo, is noble. However, I cannot commit my limited time to helping one person when so many are in need."

"Si, and you convinced Arnaut to help you."

Rodrigo smirked wider when he saw her face turn scarlet again. Seraphina looked away but jumped when her eyes lingered on Arnaut, lifting a large crate in his muscular arms.

"I, he. I just reminded him of his duties to the Father. It matters not if I spend time with him. Him and his big, strong arms." Seraphina shook her head and threw herself back into work.

Rodrigo and Blizzard had to walk away to avoid bursting into laughter. This became almost impossible as Arnaut and Seraphina unconsciously worked their way closer to one another. The prince had to throw himself back into his work and lost track of time when he found himself beside Zehra, who handed out more food.

Her face turned even paler, and she started to tremble after taking a closer look at those in line. Each of them, on some part of their body, had Gazap's sigil branded into them. Rodrigo watched the pride drain from her face with every former slave that passed her. Yet, the worst was still to come as Rodrigo saw Seraphina's intense expression toward Zehra.

"Seraphina-" Arnaut started and reached for her, but she lifted her shirt, revealing the same brand near her waist.

"I-"

Zehra stuttered until a child broke through the crowd and grabbed Seraphina by the wrists. She sobbed, tears flying down her face.

"Where is Papa? Where is he!?"

She thrashed about until Seraphina knelt down and embraced the girl in her arms. Rodrigo sighed and gestured to Blizzard, who nodded and walked over to the crying child, nuzzling her. "Father, make me merciful."

Rodrigo struggled to keep his rage on ice and turned back to Zehra, who backed up. A sickly man moaned when she bumped into him and collapsed beside Zehra, who yelped. Everywhere she turned, Zehra found herself surrounded by the slaves and their lament. The girl held her head and screamed before running inside the chapel to get away.

"Zehra!"

Rodrigo followed her inside the building toward a small chapel where a knight brother, monk, and another nun watched Zehra from the doorway, each nodding and motioning to the others.

"She looks to be lost."

Sister Beatrice whispered to Rodrigo and gestured to Zehra, who sat curled up before a mural. With a deep breath, Rodrigo steadied himself. He had another chance after all, and this time, he would not fail. Rodrigo approached Zehra from behind and then sat beside her while Blizzard came in close to nuzzle her. He thought she might try to jerk away, but Zehra just shook in place. She appeared lost, as if her entire world turned upside down.

"I, I don't understand."

"Zehra, you are an Invadores noblewoman. Surely, you saw slaves before."

"I, I mean. Occasionally, I witnessed them in the manor. They seemed well taken care of and content."

"Like dogs," Rodrigo answered for her, and Zehra's grimace gave him the answer. "Well, well, it's supposed to be their proper place in a civilized society. They do not respect the gods, so they have to be put in their place for the good of civilization."

Zehra tried to muster the same confidence as before, but she wavered. Rodrigo was not sure what to do. Should he try to console her or go on the attack? No, pushing Zehra here would not help. It would just drive her back to her people.

"Zehra, I'm sorry, but what you saw out there was the reality of slavery. Seraphina lived it and has devoted her life to saving others from it. If your gods see glory in bringing people into chains like that, I can never follow them."

"Humph, I'll bet you think I'm a monster then."

Zehra once more tried to sound sure of herself, but her words stumbled over each other. Hints of tears formed in her eyes before Rodrigo took her by the shoulders. "You're not a monster, Zehra. You're a person, just like me and everyone out there."

Rodrigo took another deep breath and stared at the mural on the wall. His eyes lit up, and he found himself smiling again. "I owe everything to Saint Circe's intercession. When I was born, my mother said I did not cry. The best healers in Riquezarra could not heal me, and I would not survive. My mother refused to give up and put me before a statue of Saint Circe. She spent all night praying for her intercession while her dragon lamented her only egg, which never hatched. But that night, in the chapel, the egg hatched and, to my mother's disbelief, bonded with me." Rodrigo took Blizzard by the head just as his dragon turned his licks onto him. The prince's fears and anguish vanished as a warm sensation overtook him as if he floated.

"That instant, I started crying, and ever since, I have been in debt to Saint Circe for her intercession." Rodrigo took Zehra by the shoulders again and used the cloth to wipe away her tears.

"She healed me. She can heal you, too. All you have to do is ask."

Despite Rodrigo's words, Zehra sobbed harder and jerked away.

"I'm a pagan who tried to kidnap a girl. Why would she pray for me?"

"Because she knows what it means to make mistakes." Rodrigo looked back at the nun, who nodded. She touched the gemstone in her christogram, then aimed her fingers at the mural. Zehra's crying ended when she saw the images come to life. Rodrigo watched his companion more than the moving art, for he knew the story all too well. He and Zehra saw a downtrodden woman in a faraway land working as an apothecary. However, she struggled, and in her anxiety, she got a mixture wrong and yelped when she saw her customer convulse. In response, those around her pointed and jeered accusations.

She tried again and again, but more mistakes followed, and with each one, judgment. At last, it proved too much, and a black aura surrounded her. She brewed more herbs and gave them out, but this time, each poisoned and hurt those who took them. She lurked in the shadows and spread more misery wherever she went, but with each victim, the dark aura hid her sorrow. The woman thrashed and maimed herself after each foul deed until, at last, it proved too much. Zehra gasped and flung herself on Rodrigo, who trembled despite knowing the story. The woman made one final mixture and slowly raised it to her mouth.

"No!"

Zehra cried, but the mural did not stop yet. The bottle reached her lips when a light overtook and chased away the shadows around her. Rodrigo's heart raced when he saw him approach. A shepherd whose skin glowed in ethereal light with a golden halo around his head came closer despite the woman's shouting and sobs. He looked upon her, not with judgment but love. With a gentle hand, he touched her cheek and embraced the woman. Zehra gasped, and Rodrigo experienced the flying sensation again. She rose, not as she was, but illuminated like a lumen and with a halo around her head. At once, she approached a man who lay dying from a plague, but without a gemstone, she conjured bright water and cured him. As she did so, Saint Circe looked back at Zehra, whose eyes lit up like the stars.

"You see, it doesn't matter who you are or what you've done. It matters who you can be."

Rodrigo took a deep breath and placed a christogram in Zehra's hands. She stared at it, shaking until both her cheeks puffed up, and she looked away. "Alright, Rodrigo. I am willing to learn more about your god and consider worshiping him one day."

"Si, that sounds wonderful." Rodrigo's heart lit on fire, and Blizzard panted with a broad smile. The prince took Zehra by the hand and led her back outside.