Andaroos

The emir turned to Rodrigo. "Would you shed Christian blood for us?"

"Andaroos?" Rodrigo asked one night, pointing to a faint constellation near the horizon. andaroos

"Rodrigo de las Torres," the king said coldly. "Traitor." The emir turned to Rodrigo

"No," he said quietly. "But I will shed my own before I let this place burn." "Traitor

The emir laughed—a dry, sad sound. "A knight who wants to dig soil. Strange times."

"I will not fight my own people for you," Rodrigo said. "But I will not betray you either. Let me stay as a gardener. Let me learn."

"Perhaps," Rodrigo replied. "But look at this branch. The rose does not kill the pomegranate. They grow together and make a stranger, sweeter fruit. The valley you wish to burn is that fruit. It is not an enemy. It is an andaroos —an evening garden. And evening is not the end of the day. It is the time when lights come out."