Chapter 8: Alfonso's Choice

Rodrigo:

Rodrigo's heart fluttered when he and Blizzard flew over their crusader army's camp and took in the full magnitude of its size. The sea of banners and tents with men, equoferri, horses, and dragons moving amid them like fish made counting the numbers indeterminable.

"Father, be praised. Look at them all. Have you ever seen so many men in one army!?" Rodrigo shook with a broad smile.

"Oui, remember the army Emperor Tiberius of Dieurbem raised against the Valkyrie? A shame his son waited too long to become like him."

Arnaut scoffed. The news reached them only two days earlier that Emperor Caesar of Dieurbem had ambushed the Sonn High King after Bahram invaded Dieurbem. The Aciemes' victory was total, with the Sonn army wiped out, the High King dead, and his last son captured. However, Caesar did this with forces in Dieurbem while the Crusaders were still en route. Thus, their help would be unnecessary, but none of them would make it to Envidia in time.

"Emperor Caesar's decisive victory over the Sonn High King is cause for celebration. The Holy Land is safe now that Caesar brought the Sonn to heel." As easy as it would be to resent the Emperor of Dierbem for what happened, Rodrigo knew it would do him no good. He had met the Emperor years earlier on a crusade in Outremer when Caesar was still the prince. The two were roughly the same age, and Rodrigo saw much of himself in Caesar even then. Knowing that the anxious, self-doubting teen he met earlier had become a warrior Emperor who won such a grand victory for the Fidels faith lit a fire inside Rodrigo. If Caesar could win against such impossible odds, so could they. The Father was with them. It had to be so.

"Rodrigo is right. We have a mighty host before us! That's what counts, mi amigos. Plus, we have our champion!"

Pedro flashed his bright smile and gestured below toward one part of the camp. All three young men and their dragons chuckled together when they spotted Zehra trying to arm-wrestle a man-at-arms among the Mardierra host. His companions almost fell over laughing as she pulled and tugged with both hands, her face red and veins popping. However, the scarred warrior flashed a grin and revealed a few missing teeth before flipping Zehra over the table.

Arnaut and Blizzard's laughter rivaled the soldiers below, and Rodrigo almost joined them when he saw Zehra spring back up and demand a rematch. "A shame Isabella isn't here to see this."

"Si, it was no easy choice for her, especially with her father and brothers here. But she will not be parted from Garcia, especially given what will happen if we fail."

Golden light remained in Pedro's eyes even as his words turned Rodrigo's stomach to stone. This harsh reminder of what was at stake hardened his resolve. For a brief moment, he saw his mother, sisters, Alba, and countless others massacred or dragged off to slavery at the hands of an invadores army. However, he could not dwell on such things as it would only distract him from his duties. His namesake, Rodrigo I, certainly did not have such luxuries when he faced even worse odds centuries earlier.

"It's getting late. We should get back to my Abuelo."

Blizzard shivered as he flew down, and the prince's heart fluttered when he stared across the valley floor toward the southern horizon and the sea of lights moving closer and closer. For such a massive host, the Invadores army moved with incredible speed, leaving desolate land in its wake to feed so many men and beasts. Still, Arnaut let out some steam with a fiery smile when he saw them.

"We won't fail! Our cause is just, and the Father is with us!"

"Si, and we have received some help from beyond Envidia." Pedro pointed to a small section of the camp where a few hundred knights and men-at-arms gathered alongside two dragons. Unlike the Envidians, these men all had dark skin and spoke the foreign language of Noshafael. "Balabat Gabra was the only foreign lord to answer our call to Crusade. Father bless him and his family."

Rodrigo's heart soared as he took in the crusader army again. Most of Tierrero's fighting men answered the call alongside Mardierra's army and their King, Ferdinand. The Knights of Custon and Saint Circe arrived in force, bringing most of their men in Envidia with sparse arrivals from the other Aciemes Kingdoms. However, they did not come alone. For the third Knightly military order, the Knights of Schwert, a Reich-based order likewise arrived. Lastly were the crusaders from Riquezarra. The prince's heart almost burst from his chest as he scanned their army again and again, but one banner had yet to arrive.

"Fear not. Mi padre will arrive with the rest of Riquezarra's host," Rodrigo declared and breathed faster with an oversized smile at his friends. "He'll see how far I've come as a warrior and leader. Together, he and I will save Envidia. He'll be so proud of me."

Pedro, Arnaut, and their dragons did not make a sound. Instead, they just nodded with forced smiles. Rodrigo tried to take his mind off Alfonso's absence and soon found it a simple task. His heart fluttered again when he looked and listened to the encampment below. No music played except for chaplains' hymns, and none partook in any alcohol. Instead, the knights and men-at-arms tended to their weapons and armor or prayed. Rodrigo stared at dozens of tents where men came in and out for confession and considered going down himself. That was, however, until Blizzard growled.

"I had to have sinned since this morning, Blizzard. I could die tomorrow." Rodrigo kept his eyes fixed on these tents before his dragon forced him away and toward the King's tent. Arnaut's, however, steamed and grinned at the horizon. 

"Just think of what will come when we win! We could push deep into Invadores territory. All the new baronies!"

"We have to win first, mi amigo." Rodrigo's voice chilled the air around them, and he fixed his eyes back on the approaching lights in the distance. "Selim has never known defeat. We would be fools to take him lightly."

"Still, think about what will happen when we win. A future where Garcia does not have to live in fear of the Invadores." Pedro shut his eyes and lost himself to the thought. His enthusiasm soon spread to Rodrigo, who soon smiled again as he saw himself and Blizzard leading a Crusader army into Ciuperdida. 

"Rodrigo's dream." Soon, the prince and his companions arrived outside King Sancho's tent, where Zehra and Seraphina waited for them.

"Blessed evening."

"It's about time you lot got here."

"Bonsoir, mesdemoiselles. Did you emerge victorious in arm wrestling?" Arnaut's grin made Zehra's cheeks puff up to the point of bursting. 

"They got lucky, is all."

"I'm sure they did. Have they started yet?" Rodrigo glanced past the Onyx Knights, who inclined their heads before him as his body shook.

"No, his majesty is waiting for you." Seraphina took Rodrigo by one shoulder and met his trembling eyes. 

"He wants your counsel, Rodrigo."

"Oui, if King Sancho, the warrior King of Tierrero, wants your wisdom on the eve of battle, you ought to give it." Arnaut's warm hand took him by the other shoulder.

"Isabella will be quite sad if we lose here. So no doubting yourself." Pedro ruffled up the prince's hair before Blizzard huffed and nudged him toward the entrance. 

"That's it, right this way."

Zehra's smirk melted away the last of Rodrigo's nerves, and he followed her inside. The three dragons poked their heads under the tent alongside the others. Once inside the war tent, Rodrigo mustered all his strength before the vast magnitude of powerful men around him. Along the table stood Pedro's father, Marshal Remero of the Knights of Circe, and Marshal Wilfried of the Knights of Schwert. Pedro and Remero, with their dragons, both smiled and inclined their heads when they saw Rodrigo. But Marshal Wilfried and his brown beast kept a closer watch. The two whispered to each other in a dialect of Reich that Rodrigo could not make out despite his education.

Further down the table stood some of the top magnates from Tierrero, Mardierra, and Riquezarra, who joined the Crusade. Pedro took his spot beside a pair of Mardierran nobles who bore a striking resemblance to Isabella. Count Salvín, his oldest son Alvar, and a younger son, Felip, her father, and two of her brothers. Both gave Rodrigo the same expression as Wilfried until Pedro started speaking to them. The prince smiled a bit when the two lords nodded and inclined their heads, and Pedro winked at him.

"Indemin nih, Prince Rodrigo."

A deeper voice snapped his attention toward the end of the table. There, a dark-skinned man almost as tall and broad as King Sancho inclined his head toward him, his thick black beard and mane of hair done up in braids.

"Buenas noches, Balabat Gabra. Forgive my tardiness, everyone."

"Apology accepted. But fear not. We have not been here that long and found good company amongst ourselves." The eased and relaxed voice almost caught Rodrigo off-guard, and his head shot to the young man beside his grandfather and Don Alvaro. He was older than Rodrigo but younger than Pedro, with thick yet short black hair housing a crown, brown eyes, and an athletic build. He flashed a grin that rivaled Pedro's and patted Sancho's enormous shoulder. 

"Your abuelo is quite good company when on campaign. I should have brought you along on ours, arkadaşım."

Sancho's iron-hard face cracked into a small grin alongside Rodrigo when they both looked at King Ferdinand. His epaulet-jacket cape carried Mardierra's coat of arms. A green field with silver bars coming down the center. Three ruby red dragon heads hung over the young King, with one smiling, one eyeballing a female dragon, and the third growling at a familiar figure who sat in the corner, hands bound by iron shackles with a glowing gemstone embedded in the center.

"Ahh, there he is, our esteemed guest of honor. Zehra, why not keep him company."

"An excellent idea, Arnaut." Zehra flashed a devious grin, then sat on the furnished chair's arm over Ozil. "Alright, big brother, you're before some of the most powerful lords in Envidia. Show some of that diwan courtesy and respect." Zehra pinched Ozil's cheek, and his face contorted as he glared with all his might at Rodrigo and the others.

"It is beyond demeaning that I, a diwan, am forced to serve the whims of these animals. You're worse than a traitor and apostate, Zehra."

"Be careful, Ozil. Some of us animals can speak your language."

Rodrigo's face hardened like solid ice, and he chilled the air around their guest while those around him all fixed their eyes on the Invadores nobleman. 

"Indeed, and even for those that don't. I am more than happy to translate, so watch what you say, Ozil." Zehra pinched his cheek harder until it turned red, and he jerked away.

"Where is Desert?"

Ozil shouted, but Rodrigo's face melted a little when he heard the desperation in his voice. He could not imagine being so far from Blizzard. Yet, they had no choice. Even if Ozil had fled from Selim, he was still far from their friend, and precautions had to be taken.

"Your abra is fine, Invadores. We are not as cruel as you think. However, I will remind you that the man who murdered your father and Caliph approaches. Your survival depends on ours." Sancho shook the room with his voice alone, and Rodrigo watched a few beads of sweat trickle down Ozil's face. "We will offer you safety in Tierrero, but it will only remain a safe haven if we stop Selim. So make your choice, us or Selim."

Watching Ozil's face contort proved less than entertaining, and he glanced toward Zehra, who seemed to agree with him by her narrowed eyes and puffed-up cheeks.

"Ozil, you cannot go back while Selim rules. You have to make a choice now!" Zehra seized his shoulder and rocked him back and forth before Seraphina came over. 

"He will commit countless acts of brutality, slaughter, and enslavement if he wins here."

She started, her voice calm even as she spoke of horrors. Rodrigo saw Arnaut and Zehra ready to unleash a diatribe on Seraphina about how Ozil could not care less about such things. However, Rodrigo knew Seraphina understood this and trusted her. Thus, he raised his hand to the other two and kept them silent. "He will commit such an outrage that the Papst will call for the biggest Crusade since the very first."

The room went silent, and Rodrigo's smile returned when Ozil's face trembled. He almost chuckled when Zehra and Arnaut blinked with blank expressions after hearing such a claim from Seraphina. Master Panos nodded and gestured at her to continue.

"Emperor Caesar of Dieurbem has shattered the threat of the Sonn for the next century, if not more. That means every Aciemes man longing to crusade will look to Envidia, not Outremer. Do you think the rocky barrier will keep out Royaume, Noshfael, Doraulion, and the Holy Drachen Reich indefinitely after this?" Seraphina's eyes pierced a pale Ozil, who shook so much that he almost fell from his chair.

"They will raise your civilization to the ground. Do you really think even Selim stands a chance against the Reich Empire alone, let alone every Aciemes Kingdom?" Rodrigo loomed over the small man and watched the last of the color vanish from his face. 

"Fine. But not for you barbarians or your weak god-"

Zehra slapped her hand over Ozil's mouth. "Don't speak ill of-" She snarled with jagged teeth.

"It's alright, muchacha. We have a different definition of weakness from this 'civilized man'"

Archbishop Arias eased Zehra's hand off Ozil. For the next few minutes, he revealed everything he knew about the Invadores army's size and composition before Selim's coup. He also divulged how much money lay in the treasury, the personal wealth seized from the Diwans who opposed Selim, and all other means of collecting money for raising additional troops. He ended by explaining how much food supply the Invadores Empire had to support an army and which officials Selim had in his service. Once Ozil finished, Master Panos and another lumen spoke on reports of bashi bazouks joining Selim's host in mass. By the time they finished, Rodrigo had to hold Blizzard's head to keep himself from shaking again. Even Arnaut looked a little pale.

"Over one hundred thousand men in his army," Sancho grunted and crushed a piece of the table in his grip. "He's all but emptied his empire of manpower."

"Well, how about that. They outnumber us over two to one. Oh well, we'll have to make due." King Ferdinand yawned and rubbed the back of his head. One of his dragon's heads nodded while the other two growled at him. 

"Si. King Ferdinand is right. Selim will be upon us come morning. There are no other men to join us. If Emperor Caesar can defeat a Sonn force three times the size of his host, we can defeat Selim. Saint Petronas be with us."

Sancho's words shook Rodrigo again, and he fought back tears at the empty spot reserved for a third king. "Abuelo, he'll come," Rodrigo forced the words out, and Blizzard whined. Rodrigo almost jumped as Sancho shook with an explosive rage boiling up inside him. The enormous King slammed his fist onto the table and shattered it into a thousand pieces, making everyone jump back.

"My, that looked expensive."

Ferdinand almost laughed and used a burst of ruby red fire from his hands to burn the sharts up while a few Onyx knights rushed a new table inside. Silence chilled the war tent, and Seraphina approached Rodrigo. However, Sancho grabbed and pulled him over.

"Rodrigo. It's time you stop waiting for his acceptance. You don't need it. It is I who need you here for the fate of Tierrero and Envidia."

"Oui. Show all these fine lords who Prince Rodrigo de Riquezarra is." Smoke rose from Arnaut's body, which matched his eyes, and soon lit a fire inside Rodrigo. Zehra sprung up and fanned these flames as she cried.

"For the Father and Envidia! You are the one who will achieve Rodrigo's dream!"

"With my help," Ferdinand chuckled but nodded. At that, Rodrigo stood tall beside Sancho and put his icy hand on the map.

"Let us begin."

The next few hours disappeared in talks on their order of battle. Ozil's information on troop composition and numbers proved crucial to their planning. Sancho allowed Rodrigo to take the lead, and the adrenaline came through him like a flood. He struggled to contain the excitement and speak in a steady voice. However, the prince did not monopolize either. He allowed everyone to give their perspectives and argue for different plans. Yet, Rodrigo kept them on track and in good order. Arnaut also looked ready to explode with pride when he got his turn to contribute on the cavalry front.

"Si, an excellent point, Don Arnaut," Sancho added, and Rodrigo's face almost beamed when he saw magma drop from Arnaut's grinning face.

"Of course it is. He's a Conquete. All they know is warfare," Ferdinand laughed before adding his own perspective.

"Hmp, as if barbarians know anything about proper military strategy."

Ozil scoffed. Rodrigo and the others ignored him until he saw Zehra bonk the diwan's head and leave a sizable bump. "As if you know anything, Ozil. Neither you nor father were ever Kazaskers. You can wield a sword well enough, but unless you're managing money, you have no expertise. Unlike myself. I have learned the art of war from these fine men."

"You're a woman, Zehra. You know less about warfare than a barbarian." Ozil barked back, and Zehra turned red, fist raised to hit him again.

"Zehra, you haven't contributed yet."

Rodrigo waved her over and savored her smug grin as she got up and joined him at the table. She went on for a bit and contributed some valuable ideas that Rodrigo incorporated. The counsel continued without anything to drink but water. At last, the order of battle was laid out before all of them.

"Are there any objections to this plan?" Rodrigo scanned the room, but no one spoke up. "Then we have an accord."

Sancho almost knocked Rodrigo over when he patted his shoulder. "I will have a word with my grandson alone. As for everyone else, rest, pray, and make yourselves ready for whatever happens tomorrow."

"Si, I can take confessions for those who have not done so."

Archbishop Arias led the others out, and each of Rodrigo's companions gave him a thumbs up as they departed. Blizzard let out another howl and licked Rodrigo to no end. The Prince could barely keep himself from doing the same.

"Abuelo, if we can defeat Selim, we can press further south at last. We can free Riquezarra from its vassal status, and my father can-"

"Rodrigo." The smile vanished from Sancho's face, as did the pride and power. The aging warrior King looked far older than Rodrigo had ever seen him, and Tremor had to help him stay upright. Rodrigo raced forward and tried to help but soon saw tears stream down Sancho's face.

"Abuelo, what's wrong?"

"Rodrigo. Your father, he-"

The king cut himself off and reached into his jacket before pulling out a parchment with Alfonso's seal upon it. "This arrived this morning." Sancho smashed half of the table when he slammed his palm upon it. Rodrigo's hands trembled when he picked it up and began reading it.

"Sancho, I consider myself a reasonable man, but even I have my limits. From the day I was born, you have seen me as beneath you, as nothing more than your subordinate. You forced me to acknowledge you as my superior the day I became a King. You demanded I contribute to every one of your wars of vanity against the Invadores and used your position as the Church's golden child to steal entire portions of my Kingdom that my grandfather took from yours by right of conquest. I love Berengaria, but I cannot live as your son-in-law any longer, second cousin. I have included the official annulment of our marriage by the Archbishop of Riquezarra by means of being too closely related. My daughters, by her, will remain legitimate and stay with me, but Rodrigo." The prince's heart raced, and he lost the ability to breathe. "Rodrigo is no longer my son. You have seen to that by making him nothing more than a replacement for Ferdinand. He is hereby illegitimate and disinherited from the throne of Riquezarra. When I remarry, I shall have another son. I shall pray that the fools from my Kingdom who answered your call are taken into the Father's arms. As for you, pray for forgiveness, for Selim will show you no mercy." The parchment fell from Rodrigo's hand, and tears froze across his face.

"No, no, no," he muttered to himself. It could not be true. It just could not be. Rodrigo seized the paper again, but it froze in his hand. "No! No! Padre, how could you!?" Blizzard forced himself inside the tent and held Rodrigo up by his snout. A sharp whine escaped the dragon as he tried and failed to comfort his partner.

"Rodrigo! Forget that monstruo! Look at me!" Sancho grabbed Rodrigo in his arms and pulled him to eye level. However, the world did not stop spinning around him. The prince begged for something to happen, something to wake him up from this nightmare.

"Rodrigo! Listen to me!" Sancho shook Rodrigo back to reality, and the Prince met his grandfather's eyes. 

"I'm a bastard, I'm-"

"You are not a bastard! Listen to me! I already spoke to Arias. He is furious and has already sent word to the Papst to have Alfonso excommunicated. However, he has assured me that as it stands, you are still recognized as legitimate even if Alfonso gets his marriage annulled." This news did little to ease the prince, whose world collapsed around him.

"My family, padre has ended our family. He doesn't love me-"

"Rodrigo! I told you to listen to me! That man does not deserve to call himself your father! I would die to have what he has. My-my son." Sancho broke down into a sob despite Tremor's nuzzles and whines. Rodrigo wrapped his arms around Sancho, who hugged him back. Both dragons joined in with their riders.

"No matter what happens, Rodrigo. You will have a place in Tierrero. No matter what happens, you will always be my boy."

As Rodrigo stood there in his abuelo's arms, the sense of emptiness inside him started to ease. He saw himself as a boy again after his humiliation at the joust, training in Tierrero, and his various successes as a nobleman. Even if Alfonso was never there for any of it, someone else was. The same man who held him at that moment. Rodrigo hugged Sancho tighter when something pressed up against him from his jacket.

Rodrigo reached inside and then teared up further upon seeing his christogram. Sancho was not the only one watching over him all his life. Someone who loved him more than anyone else in the world. 

"Your love is all I need, Father."