Charles pulled tightly on the reigns of his horse bringing it up short. Up and down the line he looked his brave knights formed up in orderly rows pennants baring their crests, armor gleaming in the bright morning sun. He had come to know them all in the years he’d been King; it seemed such a short time ago now but he and they had aged.

His skin had darkened several shades from the Mediterranean climate and his Spanish these days was quite passable, and for a wonder he’d even grown accustomed to the heat! That itself was a miracle that God himself must surely take credit for. At his hip still hung his ax, the same weapon that years ago he had carried across Western Europe intent upon taking Orders until a call from Spain reached him and he rode hard to answer it, a tale of unknown linage spun before him until he found himself on a throne he had never sought. The crown had been heavy, it still was, but he knew he had grown into it. Just as the number and quality of his knights had grown even more powerful than they had ever been before.

“Knights of Santiago,” he began, his voice booming now so different from the soft spoken young man he had once been. It carried the air of authority now, the tone of a man used to being obeyed. “Since I have come to you we have done many things together… we have beaten back invasion from the Imazighen, we have risen to the defense of our allies the Moors and prevented diplomatic debacle by England that would have brought Christian nations to war. We have stood beside our allies when called to do so… despite our feelings on the subject or objective in question. When called we rode to Ireland’s defense when the Finns attacked their lands… we were proud to do so, and when this threat ended before our forces arrived we did not return home. We stayed to protect lands stripped bare of defense by the demands of a war far to the North that had nothing to do with ourselves, but we stood watch where there were no others to do so.”

Charles paused for a moment glancing to his left and right where his priest Paul and the Captain of his personal guard Carlos stood mute… stalwart pillars at his side.

“We have also done other things. We have endured countless sneering glances and remarks, veiled threats, sugar coated promises of brotherhood and friendship rooted in the absolute submission of ourselves to the whim and fancy of rulers far from our own boarders. We have watched with horror and shock at the atrocities committed in the name of ‘vengeance’ and ‘spite’ and held our tongues for we were treaty bound to stand beside these same no matter what the cost to our hearts or souls. We destroyed a people to the South for the pride of one woman who could not stand having her will defied, scattered their lives to the ashes. We imprisoned brave souls whose only true crime was speaking what their hearts and consciences demanded that they say because of one who sees enemies under every rock and shadow. We have sacrificed the honor of Spain to keep our word.”

“What, you might ask, was our reward for this? How did our allies repay our loyalty? They repaid it with scorn, they repaid it by equating disagreement with treason… to an authority they know not. They have threatened our homes, our children, and our very right to exist as a proud nation because they cannot stand that we too have our own minds, that we are not bound to believe as they believe… we are not duty bound to always walk lock step with them when they are wrong.”

Charles paused a moment and drew a sword, the metal gleaming in the sun as he pointed it to his left. The faint creek of leather saddles could be heard in an otherwise deadly quiet moment as dozens of faces turned in the direction he pointed.

“Knights of Spain. Brothers of Iberia Leon and Castille. Knights of the Order and allies from the East. There, to the north are the lands of the Irish Tyrant and her lapdog false Pope! There are the armies of the people who have threatened your lands because we are no longer satisfied to allow them to run our affairs. We are our own people, these are our lands, it is to the Nations of this Peninsula alone to determine our course and from this moment forward we shall! They have grown fat and lazy living off lands that should be long to other peoples, decadent and complacent… arrogant in their own power and oh so certain that none would be so rash as to defy them. We shall break that illusion with the strength of our sword arms.”

“Knights of Santiago, you are the finest force of fighting men and women in the world. Now it is time to go and prove it. TO WAR!”

With a cry that rippled up and down the line the horses turned and surged to the north crossing into the lands of people who were once their allies. Charles watched them ride for a moment and looked over his shoulder as he sensed Paul pull up closer beside him.

“Are you alright your Majesty?”

Charles paused a moment and then gave a wisp of a smile, it was one touched with the weariness of only one who has born the responsibility of an entire people could truly understand.

“Yes, Father, I have never been prouder of them. Their bravery truly astounds me. Come, we had best not get left behind, for today Father Paul we fight the Apostates!”