Chapter 10 - The Crown and the Storm
The bells of Zaragoza tolled for Prime as the letter from the Santa Isabel was read aloud in the royal chapel.Every sound echoed through the vaulted stone like judgment.The courtiers and priests knelt; the bishops crossed themselves. Only King Leon remained standing, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as if it were a crucifix.
When the last words faded — "We have built a cross upon its shore" — the silence that followed was a living thing.
At length, Cardinal Rodrigo of Toledo rose from the front pew. His robes shimmered crimson in the candlelight."Your Majesty," he said softly, "what you call discovery, others might call presumption. You have reached where no Christian has gone — but without the Church's blessing."
Leon's gaze was calm. "Does the sea obey the Vatican now, Eminence?"
A ripple of whispers passed through the chamber.
Rodrigo's eyes hardened. "The Church fears only that in seeking Heaven across the waters, Your Majesty might forget to look for it above."
Leon stepped closer, the steel of his boots ringing on the floor. "I did not build ships to rival Heaven. I built them to honor it — to carry the Cross where no banner has yet flown."
The Cardinal bowed slightly, lips tight. "And yet, some say you build not altars but empires."
Leon turned from him, facing the altar. "Then let God judge between us."
The Chamber of Smoke
That night, Leon convened his council in the Hall of Kings — a long chamber thick with incense and torchlight.Around the table sat generals, merchants, and scholars, their faces lit by fire and fear alike.
"The fleet found land," said Chancellor Durán, his voice heavy with awe. "If this letter is true, there are realms beyond reckoning. Gold, timber, and souls unbaptized."
The merchant lords murmured greedily. The priests frowned.
"It will not be long before Rome sends legates," warned General Álvaro. "They will demand you hand the new lands to the Papal trust."
Leon leaned back in his chair. "They may demand. I will listen. But the men who survived that storm did so by my faith, not by Papal decree."
Fatimah, seated at his right, broke her silence. "And if you claim those lands, every crown in Christendom will call you tyrant."
Leon smiled faintly. "They already do."
The Night of the Vision
Sleep eluded him. He walked alone through the royal gardens, moonlight shining on the fountains.His steps echoed softly on the marble paths until he came to the old chapel — the same where he had first prayed for victory years ago.
Inside, the candles were still burning. The letter from Brother Mateo rested before the altar.Leon knelt and pressed his forehead to the stone.
"Lord," he whispered, "if I have walked too far from Your light, call me back. But if You sent me to do Your work beyond these seas, give me the courage to bear Your silence."
The air grew still. The candle flames swayed, then steadied.And in that silence, Leon thought he heard — faint, distant — the rhythm of hammers, the hum of his own forges echoing through the stone walls.
It was as if the labor of his people — their faith, their struggle, their hope — was his answer.
He opened his eyes and saw the crucifix above the altar glint faintly in the candlelight. For a heartbeat, the Christ seemed to look down upon him with sorrow… and strength.
The Edict of Zaragoza
At dawn, Leon stood before the gathered nobles in the courtyard.Rain misted the banners; the air was sharp with the scent of wet iron and incense.
He raised the letter high."This," he declared, "is not a declaration of conquest. It is a testament of faith. We will not claim what Heaven has merely shown us. But we will build — for the glory of God and the honor of Aragon — a realm worthy of His trust."
The crowd murmured; even his enemies bowed their heads.
"Send word to Rome," Leon continued. "Tell them Aragon kneels before the Cross, not beneath any crown. Let them come and see our works — not our pride, but our prayer."
He turned to the sea-wind blowing from the east."And if they call us heretics," he said softly, "then let us be heretics who pray twice as hard."
Closing Scene
That evening, Leon stood upon the tower of Aljafería Palace.Lightning flickered far to the west, a thin silver line between earth and sky.He thought of Hernán and Mateo, of the river and the cross they had raised on foreign soil.He thought of the storms that awaited him — not at sea, but in the courts of kings and the halls of Rome.
"Faith is no crown," he murmured. "It is a sword — and I will bear it until it breaks me."
Behind him, the bells began to toll again.And far away, across the ocean, thunder rolled like an answering drum.