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All three families have been detained; men, women, and children. Ansur has the lot in chains in the dungeons underneath the palace. The matriarchs of the family are in the worst condition. The matriarch Roshanna's jaw hangs open showing her swollen empty gums. Her teeth have been ripped from her mouth one by one. You're surprised she's still conscious. The pain must be immense. Nafisa has bloody bandages over her hands. Most of her fingernails have been torn out. Farhana's arm hangs limply at her side. Her elbow was crushed by a vice.
Each of these punishments were carried out for refusing to speak.
"A local priest, Venerant Jose, assisted me with a compulsion of truth ritual. The rest, I took care of myself. The toothless whore was quick to confess her guilt to the murder of Queen Aisha when I produced the teeth pliers. That one," he points to Nafisa, "Needed to lose every nail in her left hand before she confessed. That one," he points to Farhana, "Confessed just as I started work on her second arm. She confessed to working together with the other two to kill Queen Aisha and confessed she suspected the other two of killing King Martin without her knowing. For this, I spared her other arm the vice."
Uncle Ansur delivers the explanation with professional dispassion as he leads you and Aiza through the dungeon. It is a harrowing sight. The children shivering in terror wearing manacles that are chained to the wall. Their pleading eyes stare up at you, begging for salvation. You try not to look at them, but you cannot ignore their pitiful cries and pleas. Far easier to stomach are the adults. The three families who were accused are all of the highest wealth and status in Saraqusta and their families are large. Many generations of elites are down here. They have all been stripped of their fancy silks, fine linens, and high grade wools. Each and every one of them wears hemp rags only good enough to cover their modesty.
Aiza's breathing grows more and more ragged and labored. She didn't understand a word Uncle Ansur said being that it was all in Tartessian, but the sight of the tortured and the chains are hard to stomach. The matriarch Farhana drags herself across the floor and braces her single good arm against the metal bars as you all walk past.
"Queen Aiza! Please! The humans have tortured a false confession from me! Please! I am not a traitor! I only wished to make the pain stop!"
Her voice is hoarse and strained. So many hours she spent screaming, she can barely summon more than a whisper now. Her ruined arm hangs limply against her side. The joint was well and truly crushed. It is not an injury that can be healed. She is maimed for life. However long that may be.
The other two are in too much pain to ever beg. Roshanna stares up at the ceiling in an agonized haze. Tears stream from her eyes and a mixture of drool and blood drip from her lips. Her family keeps their distance, too angry with her to comfort her. She's condemned them as traitors. Nafisa lays curled up in the fetal position. Her husband sits at her side trying to comfort her, but it's futile. The pain is simply too much and the knowledge of what is to come too terrible.
The queen's eyes are wide and her breathing is erratic. The horror has her paralyzed. It is her first time seeing torture so vividly. You place a reassuring hand on her shoulder and she flinches, but does not pull away. She needs a moment to calm down.
"I know it is hard to bear, but this is the nature of justice. These women murdered your mother. Do not forget that," you remind her.
Aiza is silent for several moments, her gaze cast down. Then, her face screws up into a look of rage. Her eyes burn with fury and she bares her teeth. She stomps up to Farhana and glares daggers into the old woman's face. "Why?"
Farhana can barely muster the energy to turn her head toward the queen. Her eyes are manic yet exhausted. "W-Why? You would believe a human over your own people?"
"Why did you do it?! My mother was a perfect queen! She did everything right! She took care of everyone! She took care of you! Treated you justly despite your thinner blood! So why?!" Aiza screeches, tears streaking down her face. She slams her fists against the metal bars hard enough to rattle them, bruising her own hands.
"I... I did not wish to, my queen, but I had no choice. Look at what her stubborn independence has wrought! You are too young to know what we lost when the Queendom splintered! We are all poorer for it. And now the humans expand at our expense. See!" the elderly half-elf gestures wildly with her good hand. "They've already taken our lands and you've surrendered without a fight. Now they'll swallow us. You should have married the Tulah boy, you mule-headed wretch. Look at what you've wrought now!"
"Because of traitors like you! My mother would've won this war! She would have gotten help! I wasn't ready yet! This is all your fault! Not mine!" Aiza's anger devolves into a shrieking wail as she collapses to her knees. The grief over her mother's loss hits her fresh and anew all over again, overwhelming her and shattered what little composure she could muster to this moment.
You pull her away from the bars and nestle her against your side. She instinctively wraps her arms around you and sobs into your tunic like a lost child. Any rational impulse that could dissuade her from such an intimate gesture has fled amidst the wave of hysteria. "Let it all out, Aiza," you whisper to her, trying to be comforting. "Let it all out. Your mother's killers will soon get what they deserve. Let it all out."
You look up and catch Farhana's eyes.
The old matriarch shakes her head at the scene. "I pray your life spent as this barbarian's toy is as long and miserable as it can be, whore."
Aiza jerks away and screams, "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" She throws her weight against the metal bars and smashes her fists against them repeatedly. Her fingers are bleeding and her knuckles are bruised and battered. "I want them burned! I want them all burned! Every single one of them!"
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...
A lot happens over the next two weeks.
There are many, many important decisions to make. Chief among them— What to do with the elfbloods now in your land? Many of your advisors advocate for their total expulsion. It's what your father, King Martin, did. The elfbloods have unjustly stolen most of the land. It belongs rightfully to the men of Tartessia!
... or so they say. Trawling through records, you find a large amount of the land was... inherited. Sometimes people forget that the elfbloods are at least half Tartessians by blood. Another large portion of the land was simply purchased with money. Another was seized from criminals which... in many cases were rebels who pursued independence from the elfbloods so you don't count these acquisitions as entirely legitimate. Then there is the land seized from actual criminals which you have less of a problem with.
Overall, you can't rightly say these elfbloods deserve to be booted from the land. It would also cause tremendous chaos if you did. You would have to either promote humans from their estates into being new owners or you would assign second and third sons from your own nobiles to settle it. In either case, you're not sure you can find enough qualified people to do it. Running a noble estate take skill. That skill can be developed but it takes time. Potentially generations. Do you have generations?
No.
However, you can't just... leave the elfbloods alone. They occupy a tremendous amount of wealth and land that you need. And since their loyalty isn't guaranteed...
A tax.
A steep one.
They can keep their land and positions and titles as long as they pay a flat, yearly, percentage rate in taxes. If they refuse, then their land and wealth will be confiscated. If they don't like it? Then convert. Profess the Son as the demigod he was and acknowledge him as the prophet of the Tritheos.
To test the idea, you first pitch it to Uncle Ansur. If the zealot can stomach it, then certainly the rest of your subjects will. You justify it to him as a tool of conversion. If you try to force convert them, they'll leave and stick to their heretical ways. But if you place this tax, it will nudge them toward the truth without pushing them away.
All bullshit of course but he buys it.
Then you sell the same pitch to a council of your nobiles, including those recently elevated to the ranks. They're less enthused since it means less land handed out, but you assuage them by pointing out that you can use the money to expand the royal court and even pay permanent professional troops which will create lucrative jobs for them to occupy.
This is a better pitch.
Afterwards, you pitch the same plan to the Church. It goes... decently. The Church is not fond of the idea unless they get a cut, but you assuage them by pointing out how the money will pay for new grand cathedrals in the future.
Next, there's the matter of what to do with all the land confiscated from Aiza's personal demesne, the lands of the three traitor families, and the elfbloods who fled the country. You decide to divvy out a little over half to your veterans— men who fought bravely and distinguished themselves from your levies. That creates another thousand or so families of freeman farmers that will owe you military service. You give about a quarter of it to freemen veterans and second and third sons of your knights. Each gets a plot that is sufficient to support themselves, a handful of families to help them work it, and to support several horses so they can serve as cavalry in your army.
For the rest, you hand it out to your friends and family. Ramon gets a grand estate with hundreds of dependent labor families working it for it. Uncle Ansur gets a much less luxurious one, but it is still an estate worthy of a man of his station. Alfonso is rewarded for his contribution. He engaged in a highly dangerous magic duel with the enemy's greatest mage.
Fernando also gets a small grant in recognition of his valuable contribution of setting up the spy networks in Saraqusta. Uncle Enrique is granted some for serving as Mayor of the Palace and keeping the government running while you were gone. You toss Cristobal some too. Family is family. Archon Sancho is elated to have all the Temples of Saraqusta now under his religious jurisdiction. The entire council is made happy. Even Mayor Bernardo. The annexation of Saraqusta means one less toll for his goods on their way to Almedina.
In the meantime, the three traitor families have been rotting in the dungeons. You thought it might be a bad look to immediately burn a handful of important families right after taking the city. Then there is the fact that you've been terribly busy reorganizing the province and renaming it. Saraqusta? Not anymore. It is Zaragoza as it should properly be known.
So... you've left the adults rotting in the dungeons. The children have been given over to the church for fostering. The men are to be drawn and quartered while the women are to be burned at the stake. It's going to be a whole event. For some reason, the commoners love the spectacle of a good and just death sentence. Since Queen Aisha was well liked among all strata of society, this execution will be even more of an event for them.
In the meantime, you've largely left Aiza to her own devices. She's still being allowed to stay in the royal palace. Being as busy as you are, your only time to see her is at night shortly before bed. You make a habit of it. You arrive at her room and spend the time in her presence until the hour grows late and she is sent off to sleep. She asks you many questions about magic during these times and you are happy to answer and even give demonstrations of the parts she's struggling with. Her level skill is commendable for one who never studied at the Grand University.
Her uncle is given similar leave of the palace but you have people keeping a closer eye on him. Aiza seems... pacified. She still gets treated very well and is apparently very happy to sequester herself in her room and study magic. The former Amir, however, is more restless. He does not seem to trust you and spends his days in a brooding silence, but he has not tried to escape.
You actually catch a somewhat... interesting exchange between the two of them while scrying a private conversation in Aiza's room. Obviously, you weren't spying on Aiza. You're spying on the former Amir. He could be trying to plot something speaking privately with the former queen. You are being cautious.
"I am glad to see you well, Aiza," the former Amir says as he hugs his niece.
Aiza hugs him back, squeezing him tightly and nestling her face into his shoulder. "Oh, Uncle. I've missed you so. I... I thought you had died when I received word the battle was lost."
"I was able to ride away when I realized the battle was lost. I am... so sorry, Aiza. I failed you. My hubris allowed all of this to happen. I should have advised you to bolster our forces. Even if we must have emptied the treasury, it would have guaranteed our victory in the field. I—... no, it is too late for excuses and 'what could have beens'. Have you... how has the barbarian treated you?" Her uncle's concern is clear. A man can envision many terrible fates for his beautiful young niece when captured by a hostile force.
Aiza nervously shuffles and avoids eye contact, her gaze falling down to the floor. She looks embarrassed. "H-He... he has been quite kind, actually. He treats me as an equal and answers my questions. He has not tried anything untoward or cruel. He promised not to harm me and he seems to be a man of his word."
Walid swallows nervously, too afraid to even voice the question. His eyes are filled with worry and he looks like a man who expects to hear his worst nightmares confirmed. "Does he... force you to his bed?"
Aiza's face turns beet red and she gasps, horrified her uncle would ask such a thing. "N-No! Of course not! He hasn't even touched me! W-Well, he touches me sometimes, but not like that! Only my shoulder or my hair or my arm, a-and when I shrink away he respects me. He has, um... promised not to harm me. That includes forcing me."
Amir Walid exhales the biggest sigh of relief and his entire body sags with the release of tension. His shoulders slump forward and his posture becomes hunched. "Oh, thank the Gods. I have been... very worried. I am glad he has kept his word and treated you well. If not for that, I would gladly give my life to reap vengeance. Even if his guards stabbed me half a hundred times on my approach, I would make sure my blade found his throat."
Aiza presses her palm against his face and hushes him. Her eyes go wide and she scans around the room for any evidence of eavesdroppers. "Uncle!" she harshly admonishes him with a stern and frightened glare, "Do not speak of such things! You could be executed if the wrong person overheard that. I am fine. Perhaps even well. Alonso has apprehended my mother's killers and extracted confessions from them and he is... very attentive of me."
"What?" Amir Walid gasps. "Girl, are you—"
"No!" Aiza presses her hand against his face again, "Don't imply such things, uncle. We should discuss other matters!"
"Other matters? What else is there to discuss? Do you not realize we are prisoners? I do not trust that savage one bit. He will keep us comfortable for now, but it will be a slow decline into degradation," her uncle says, his voice heavy with concern.
"Alonso is not a savage, Uncle," Aiza counters.
Walid sighs. "Aiza. You've only known him for a week. It is obvious he's manipulating you."
"I'm not stupid, uncle! But what is he trying to manipulate me for, huh? I have no power and he has promised not to harm me. I've nothing to offer him to reward his manipulations," Aiza pouts and crosses her arms, "And he's not a savage, either."
"If not a savage, then an animal. A wolf with its jaws clamped around a rabbit, not biting down because its belly is full, but refusing to let go to save the meal for later," her uncle argues. "Do not let your guard down, Aiza. Please. Has he... learned of Jana? Or Khalid?"
Aiza shakes her head. "He doesn't know, uncle. Unless some other traitor tells him. He'll learn eventually. I do not think he will use them against us."
"And what if he does?"
"Then... I do not know. Alonso has confided in me that he will not expel our kind, and I do not believe he will harm Aunt Jana or cousin Khalid," Aiza says. "He is not the sort to do such a thing. Not the sort to betray his word."
Amir Walid frowns, shaking his head in disagreement. "I would not be so sure, Aiza. But we will see..."