"What's your name?" I asked the dark man. He simply did not respond and instead started bringing his boat closer to our location.
"Are you leaving?" I asked again. He took another leaf and wrote, "I want to leave with you."
"No, I can't leave with you. What is this place? Can't you speak?" I asked. This river was attached inside the castle, with guards usually guarding the gateway towards the forest. I never knew the name of this river, nor could I even ascertain where it led to. After my question, he did not answer; he simply continued working on his boat. It was a makeshift boat, constructed with bamboo and other materials I couldn't quite identify.
This man was quite young, and I'm not sure how to explain, but he had a good physique and stature. He had a small head with a sharp chin that had some goatee hair. His hair had grown into a small, unkempt bush, clearly uncombed for quite some time. He had medium-sized lips, large brown eyes, and very thick eyebrows. He neither smiled nor talked, and I couldn't discern the color of his lips.
"You are the duke's son," he wrote on another piece of paper. I wondered how he could write. Many people of African descent were treated as slaves and only taught to act like slaves, and perhaps given minimal English instruction to bridge the language barrier between us and them.
"How do you know me?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. I began to wonder how he knew me since not many people were acquainted with me.
"I take my leave," he wrote on the leaf. I couldn't help but wonder why he didn't tell me his name. I didn't utter another word. Even after seeing him enter his boat, I watched as he merely looked at me, pointed to my knuckles, and then wrote something on sheets of paper. He had ink and sheets of paper in a small bag on his boat, which he then showed to me.
'Trees hurt too,' it stated. With that, I examined my knuckles, wondering why he had made that remark, as I watched him paddle away down the river. I pondered where this river led people to. Perhaps I should ask, but I couldn't ask Amir. He was always suspicious when asked questions. I believed Princess Hasmine would be more helpful. She probably knew the lands better than any other princess in the castle.
My anger had subsided, thanks to the man who had warmed me up. I checked the handkerchief and removed it. I hadn't placed it in my left hand, but the blood had already stopped, leaving stains on my long fingers. I squatted near the river and began to wash my hands slowly, clenching my jaw in pain. Why did I hit that tree? I asked myself as the pain intensified. After finishing, I took the opportunity to clean the handkerchief. As I opened it up, I found a message written on it.
'Hello Willock, come home, come home, it is safe,' it stated. I threw the handkerchief down and took a step back.
"Brother, what are you doing alone in the wilderness?" I heard Amir ask from behind. This made me quickly grab the handkerchief and stuff it into the pockets of my royal trousers without caring about the fact that it was dirty and still wet.
"Amir, you surprised me," I said, turning my back to the man. He had his arrows and a bow, and now he was dressed like a local man, I would say.
"Do you know how to hunt?" he asked, and I just watched him. I did know how to use arrows. It was something we had been doing since my childhood, aiming for the bull's eye in archery. I wouldn't call myself the best, but I had come to realize that I sometimes underestimated my abilities. I now believed I could do anything, even hunting.
"Is this a forest? It seems closely connected to the castle," I asked.
"This is a gateway to somewhere far, an easy way out of Iraq," Amir explained. So this land, and this river, somehow connected with another that would lead us to an ocean and another land. I knew the idea of me leaving was far from his mind, but my thoughts were still occupied by that young man. I wondered if he would be there tomorrow, or if I should wait for him. Perhaps tomorrow, when the sun was at its pinnacle, he would return, and I could ask him who he really was, why he wanted me to go home, and why he wrote so elegantly. One might mistake him for royalty,
"I know how to hunt," I stated as Amir arrived next to me and started checking my knuckles. This made me force my hands into my pockets, though one was already wet.
"You have to learn to control your anger if you ever want to deal with humans," he stated.
"I was never born human in the first place," I replied.
"Then you should be caged somewhere, eating grass or hunting gazelles in some African lands," he said.
"The human race just... I am a reject from the human race. I belong nowhere," I declared, starting to walk away.
"What is it that you hit? Don't you hate pain?" Amir asked.
"Pain? Only cowards like you fear pain," I retorted, trying to get on his nerves. I don't even know why I never learned my lesson when it came to Amir; I just felt I should say something to hurt him.
"Why don't you try to make one of my sisters like you? Is that so hard for you?"
"I have my own morals. I respect women, unlike you, who invades every bar to look for a flower seller. How disgusting, brother," I stated. I could feel the acrimony in our tones. We were truly getting on each other's nerves, and one thing I knew about myself was that if it came to a battle of words, the Duke's son had a lot to say. Although some statements would trouble me later when I was alone in my room, I would think, "What does this man expect me to be? Doesn't he know I'm a Duke's son? Why would he tell me such a statement, given all the respect we have for each other?"
"At least I have style. Your wife will have the worst of moments with you. You'll be a laughingstock when the women gather in their groups to talk about their men. She'll always say, 'I'm the one who teaches my husband how to role-play in bed.' What's more disgusting and embarrassing?" Amir retorted. Well, that hurt me. There was nothing that wounded my masculinity more than someone telling me what a disgrace I would be in bed. I knew, I had the ideas, I had seen the images, and sometimes the older boys taught us how it worked.
"Is that pride or lack of dignity?"
"You are a man. A woman is the one supposed to be innocent. Shut up about dignity, dear brother, when shall you understand?" Amir stated.
"I can't marry your sister." I stated, now trying to change the topic, because I knew that if the acts of a man are to be questioned, I sure have not touched a lady; I have just thoughts about and read books about it. I once did think of doing it with some flower seller, back on my educational trips, as Amir did. I remember that I was supposed to pay her some thirty gold coins or something. I was nervous then, quite nervous, as I waited for her. I remember washing my face and looking at myself in the mirror a thousand times. I was around sixteen to seventeen when the lady entered. She was beautiful, a little older; I would tell she was kissing her early twenties, for she had a lot blossomed, or maybe ladies blossom earlier; she had a soft voice; and I remember with her carrying a gourd of beer with two cups, which she placed on the table and poured me after I greeted her. I then started asking her about her life, and she really just smiled and just eyed me from up to down, and then stated that I was too young to waste myself on her, but I knew I wanted her, but my body did not feel like wanting her. She called me handsome and cute, but I could not find myself yearning to open my shirt. I was not like other English royalties, who were covered with hairs all over their chests; you would describe them as animals. I really had a soft, hairless chest; I once thought it was a defect in me, as even my brother Charles started shoving hairs in his chest when he reached his teenage years. Amir did not answer my question; that's why I just decided to remember that day. I actually thought I had a defect, having no hair, but I realized some black men in our ranches also had hairless chests, so I thought maybe I had some black people commodities in me, but I just thought it through; it did not affect me much. So the lady neared me, wherever I stood, and God knows, I was nervous; I could feel my hands shaking and my chest pounding, and I was scared that drops of sweat would form in my head. I was really weak; maybe today I would do it, but I am not sure; I always say tomorrow and tomorrow. She helped me remove the royalty cardigan and started opening my shirt, and she stated that I have a cute long neck and my chest is beautiful. When she finished removing my shirt, she caught the hem of my trousers and the zipper, and I just caught her hand, and I felt tears in my eyes well up, and I clenched my jaw. Well, I could not do it, and she just looked at me, and she felt disappointed. It was like she really anticipated having a good time with me; it was like she really wanted me, because she pleaded with me to just kiss her, which I did, and I really felt something, and I stopped myself from letting the anime inside of me take control of me, and she told me her name, Rahel, which I remember. I have always been good with names. That's why I always take offense when someone forgets my name, because for me, I am really good with names. Even if it is a one-day meeting, I am always good with that name. She just let me sit and gave me the cup of beer, and she just told me that her master would kill her if he knew I did nothing to her. I just looked at her, took my coat, and told her we could lay for the night, but she just shook her head. 'I have other things to take care of' she randomly stated, and then left after I gave her the prize, and I was left shirtless, sitted, and eyes closed, wondering what had happened. I just couldn't, but I knew if we formed a bond, it would be easier. I am the type who forms bonds before indulging in intimacy with someone. I hear it is sacred. I guess my woman will have to deal with me as I am, or should I practice with others? A question that kept disturbing my peace when I thought much of women and the act of making babies, I just wondered.