At last, the group disembarked at the port of Barcelona. The air there was cooler than in Ibiza, carrying with it the sharp scent of salt and seaweed. Dozens of gulls circled the docks, their cries echoing over the creak of ships and ropes.

  The port was heavily guarded by soldiers armed with spears and iron helmets—though Rodrigo noticed right away that they didn’t look like professionals. Their postures and faces were more of common folk than trained warriors.

  “What brings you to Barcelona?” one of the guards asked in Catalan, addressing Tania, who stood at the front of the group.

  “We’ve come to sell seafood and olives from Ibiza—fresh and of excellent quality. Would you like to see?” she replied, flawlessly in the same language.

  Rodrigo was impressed. The girl spoke so many tongues—besides the language of the gods, she could speak Galician, Arabic, Catalan, and that strange dialect from Ibiza, which Ana had told him was Punic.

  The guard checked their sacks of goods and nodded. “You may enter.”

  Led by the goddess with hair like fire, the group walked toward the heart of the city.

  Rodrigo had long heard stories of Barcelona’s beauty, of its radiant plazas and tall white towers—but what he saw was a city of dust and ruin. Streets half-collapsed, buildings scorched and broken, and the people starving, begging for coins on every corner.

  The city had been raided by Almanzor the previous year and had never recovered. Half of its citizens had been slaughtered or enslaved, and the rest were dying of disease. The Moorish warlord had been infamous for throwing decapitated heads into cities to spread plague and despair.

  Rodrigo felt a quiet anger twisting inside him—but he had learned that hatred changed nothing. The world was cruel, and he had to keep moving, even if it meant swallowing the pain.

  “Alright,” said Tania, scanning the crowded market. “We’ll buy the rest of the provisions here—a small caravan and some horses.”

  “Oh, now you need my help, huh?” Epona said with a mocking grin. “What happened to ‘we don’t use horses’? Hm?”

  Ana ignored her, though her temple twitched.

  “Maybe I’ll make your horse wild and impossible to tame,” the goddess of horses said teasingly, leaning in to provoke her.

  “Well, if you want me to report to Lel that the Igigi accompanying us only slowed the mission down—be my guest,” Ana replied coolly, not even turning her head.

  Epona went red with fury.

  “If you wish, you may rest in that tavern while I buy the supplies for the road,” said Anpiel, bowing politely to Ana and Tania.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “And I’ll go get the horses!” Epona announced, suddenly cheerful again at the thought, her earlier anger gone in an instant.

  Tania agreed, and the three entered a small tavern nearby. The place was dim and neglected, its walls cracked and its tables uneven. A few patrons ate in silence, while outside, beggars and starving children begged for scraps. Inside, vendors shouted their wares and women offered themselves to travelers. Despite the decay, the air was rich with the smell of stew and herbs from the kitchen.

  “Rui,” Ana said as they sat, “whenever you visit a new city, you should always try its specialty. This tavern makes a wonderful soup called escudella i carn d’olla—a lamb stew with chickpeas, tubers, and celery.”

  Rodrigo nodded and ordered what she suggested. Ana ordered a plate of meatballs, and the three of them shared bread and beer with their meal. There was no wine left in Barcelona—the vineyards had been destroyed during the war.

  A small plate of beans was set beside Tania, and she quietly took it, adding a few potatoes and a piece of bread before handing it to a woman outside who was begging with her two children. The woman smiled gratefully, sharing the food with her little ones.

  Rodrigo couldn’t help but notice it—the kindness in Tania’s eyes. It was the same look she had when she’d helped the enslaved survivors of Coimbra.

  “Have you ever been to Normandy before?” he asked once she returned to the table.

  “No,” she answered bluntly. The goddess’s smile vanished, replaced by her usual cold expression.

  “But she’s been to Rome,” Ana interjected.

  “Really? The legendary Roman Empire?” Rodrigo asked, fascinated.

  “Yes,” Tania replied flatly. “But that was a long time ago. I wasn’t there as a tourist.”

  Rodrigo understood she didn’t wish to speak further.

  “And you, Ana? Have you been to any other kingdoms besides Ireland?” he asked, turning to her.

  “I’ve been to London and York,” she said with a cheerful smile. “And briefly to Paris and Toulouse—one of the cities we’ll be passing through.”

  “What are they like? Tell me,” Rodrigo said eagerly.

  Ana’s eyes brightened as she spoke—about the castles of Britannia, the misty highlands of Alba (nowadays, Scotland), and the shaggy cattle that roamed the fields. She described the ancient Pictish warriors, their bodies painted blue for battle, and the circular stone sanctuaries dedicated to gods even she had never met.

  “Epona lives there now, actually,” Ana added. “She probably knows more about those lands than I do.”

  Her voice was full of excitement, and Rodrigo listened intently, smiling the whole time.

  Tania, however, began to feel uneasy as she watched them.

  They’re getting along quite well, she thought, glancing away toward the window, her fiery hair catching the dim light.

  An hour later, Anpiel and Epona returned to the tavern.

  “I found a small caravan at a fair price,” Anpiel said. “It’s waiting near the northern gate of the city. The horses Epona acquired are there as well.”

  “Would you like something to eat before we leave?” Tania asked.

  “Thank you, Lady Tania, but I ate on the way,” replied the angel with a polite bow.

  “Don’t do that here! People will think I’m some kind of slave master!” Tania said, blushing in embarrassment.

  “And I’m vegetarian, so I doubt this filthy tavern has anything I can eat,” Epona said with open disdain, scanning the grimy walls.

  “There’s plenty of grass outside,” Ana muttered.

  Anpiel burst into laughter.

  “Ha ha ha! Oh, by lord El, I’m dying! So clever—almost peed myself!” Epona replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

  “When will the two of you ever grow up?” sighed Tania, leaving a few coins on the table before standing.