It was the last pair of her arrows.
Moremi crouched, her dark Afro hair blowing in the morning breeze, as she aimed her bow at a plump bird perched on a nearby branch.
Her bodyguard, Akan, stood watch, his eyes scanning the forest.
"Yes!" She exclaimed excitedly, walking toward the struggling bird which had now fallen to the ground to pick it up.
"Nice catch, my princess, you have done well but I think we need to leave now." The guard, who was behind her, pleaded. "If the king finds out I let you into the forest after all the warnings, I'd be in deep trouble!" He complained wearily.
"Oh, Akan, please. You worry too much. I already told you not to fret. My father will never find out I was here, at least not unless you or I tell him and trust me, my lips are sealed." She tried calming him down with assuring words but the attempt did little of its purpose.
Not minding her surroundings, Moremi picked the bird up.
Surprisingly, it was still alive, still struggling, trying to wriggle itself from her grip, but growing weaker and weaker as the time passed. "This was a particularly strong bird," she told Akan as she strapped it to the pouch fastened with ropes around her waist.
Just then, Akan saw it, noticed it perhaps for the first time.
The princess was a very beautiful young woman with dark shiny skin that glittered with the morning sun and afro curls that blew left and right with the wind.
Early that morning, the young princess had sneaked out of the palace with her trusted bodyguard, Akan, to practice archery by hunting the little birds in the forest.
Growing up she had watched the royal archers during their trainings and during the numerous festivals held to celebrate their deity.
Although her father had wished she was interested in more "womanly things" like weaving mats or cooking mouthwatering delicacies and any of the other things that women of the kingdom typically did, Moremi, of all things, had fallen in love with archery.
She was always captivated by the beauty and effortlessness with which the archers shot at their targets, which made it even more impressive that they almost never missed.
Her father had told her it was improper for a woman, especially one who was of royal status, to be engaging in tasks reserved for men, mere guards and soldiers for that matter.
He had instructed her very clearly, to never wield a bow or an arrow or even so much as a hunting catapult, but to leave those things to the strong men who were the palace guards.
Moremi however, had other plans. She kept sneaking out with her bodyguard to practice with the birds of the forest, against her father's wishes and much to the continuous frustration and worry of Akan, her personal bodyguard.
"Shall we leave now?" Akan asked when he saw Moremi strap the bird's wings to her pouch. It had finally stopped struggling and now gasping for breaths... breaths that would clearly be its last.
The young princess stared at Akan and pressed her lip in a thin line, about to say something he wouldn't like.
"Um... Just one more prey and-"
"My Princess, please!" Akan could no longer hide the fear in his voice. He trembled as he spoke.
The job of the personal bodyguard to the Princess was a stressful one.
As if having to guard the only child of a king was not enough, the young princess turned out to be a pain in the arse.
Moremi was more stubborn than young women her own age usually were. Even worse, no one would dare say anything to correct her because she was, afterall, the only princess of the kingdom; the most priced apple of the king's eyes.
"You speak like you have a choice." She ogled at him, puzzled by his display.
"Please...we need to leave, princess. It's for your safety," This time, Akan spoke much calmly.
Moremi rolled her eyes at his words, "I beg your pardon. I'm not a fragile little lamb, I can fight." She clearly hated how everyone, from her father to her personal guards, made her look weak; like she couldn't survive a day out of the palace unsupervised.
"I know that, princess but your father forbade you from hunting alone,"
Moremi shrugged, "I'm not alone. I have you." She drew another arrow, about to hit another unsuspecting bird, perched on a tree.
Akan's face began to crease with worry. "That's not the point, princess. You know the white men roam these woods, seeking prey. We can't risk-"
"Superstitions, plain superstitions," She scoffed, still aiming at the bird, "I've heard the stories, Akan. White slave traders lurking in every shadow, yet none have crossed my path," She shook her head.
White men her foot!
"You pray never to meet one, my princess. The tales about them are true, which is why we need to be cautious. Your father will have my head on a spike if-"
"Quiet, Akan! I'm trying to concentrate!" She hushed him, her gaze still trained on the bird and with a fluid motion, she drew her bow and took aim.
The bird fell with a swift arrow in its head.
Moremi flashed a mischievous grin and slid the bow down her back before strapping it.
With the other bird still tied to her belt, she walked towards the new catch.
"Another perfect shot," she muttered, lifting the bird by its wings as it whimpered, clinging to whatever life it had left.
They prepared to leave when Moremi was done fixing the catch to her waist.
As they walked, the forest came alive around them. Birds sang, leaves rustled and the earthly scent filled the air. Moremi was now walking gallantly, like her father's soldiers on their way back from a battle they had won, her confidence grew with each step.
Suddenly, Akan grabbed her arm, "Wait, princess!"
Moremi turned, her bow at the ready, "What?" She looked around in alert.
"What is it?"
"Do you hear that?"
A confused Moremi paused and listened.
Distant voices carried on the breeze- voices with an unfamiliar clipped accent.
The both of them halted in their steps as they whipped their heads in the direction of the voices.
"White devils," Akan's eyes widened and his voice trembled as he grabbed Moremi's arm. "Princess! We need to run!"
Moremi, however, pushed his hand away, "Run? from what? I have no reason to run, I've done nothing wrong!"
And it was true. Why would she run when she only came to hunt and didn't harm anyone?
Akan gaped at her in shock, almost face-palming at the thought of how bold and yet how naive the young princess was.
His grip on her arms tightened. "No, My princess. These people do not care what you have or have not done. They attack anyone and are always heavily armed, you can't-"
Akan stopped talking when he heard the harsh sound of a whip slash on something, even more likely, on someone, and a loud cry echoed throughout the forest.
"Make it quick!" A strange voice yelled. "We don't have all day!"
Akan returned his gaze to the princess.
"I think... I think they're coming this way..." He stammered.
As Moremi heard the voices growing louder, which proved that they were indeed coming closer, she felt something tighten inside her stomach and something heavy, pounding on her chest.
Akan's face contorted in fear. "We should have listened to your father," he muttered accusingly before looking around, "But no, you never listen," his words were a mixture of panic and annoyance.
He frantically scanned the area until his eyes stopped on a thick veil of foliage.
"Come, here!" he pulled her closer to himself but Moremi tried to free herself, wriggling herself off his grip similar to the little prey she had caught earlier but just like the bird, she couldn't.
He was way stronger.
Her gaze locked onto the path as her mind raced.
She had known these woods since childhood and yet, she had never once encountered white traders.
In fact, she believed at some point that they were tales told by her father to scare her away from the forest but even that didn't work.
Moremi was too stubborn.
What happened today, though? She wondered.
Hastily, Akan dragged her along to take shelter behind the thick veil of foliage, holding his breaths as the voices grew louder.
The rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs signaled the strange people's approach as they continued to speak in this clipped accent both of them could barely understand.
Not even that. They were both too occupied in their thoughts to even listen.
As the men came into view, Akan and Moremi peeped from the tiny opening in the foliage to see these white men.
They had both only heard of; they had never seen in flesh these people with skin as pale as sand.
Strange people who looked like them except for their pale skin that made it seem as though someone had drained all their blood and replaced it with native white chalk and water.
Men who brought trouble, her father had said, men who spoke of trading, but whose presence always caused divisions and suffering wherever they went.
Moremi knew some of these things were rumours but there was always a bit of truth in every lie.
"Bend down," Akan said and pressed her shoulders down as both of them lowered themselves to the ground, their hearts were beating even faster now.
They hid, breathless, listening as the voices grew closer.
Akan had his eyes wide with fear mingling with concern and anxiety and regret and a thousand more emotions that all seemed to say, 'We should never have come out here today.'
This was not the place for a princess.
If things went wrong, he couldn't imagine what the king would do to him when he found out about this.
_______
"Keep 'em moving," the earlier voice ran again and whip slashed once more, following the order.
Moremi didn't realize when an involuntary and loud gasp escaped her lips on seeing firsthand the situation before her eyes.
..
Young men, not more than the age of eighteen or twenty, were set in a straight line, bound together by shackles and a thick rope tied around their necks like dogs. She had never seen anything like it.
They barely wore anything beneath, their bodies bloodied and scarred with whips.
The metallic scent of blood and sweat filled the air and it was unsettling. Moremi suddenly felt the urge to throw up but kept it in for fear of being discovered.
Silently, they peered through the foliage, watching as the white men emerged into the clearing, dragging along a chain of shackled figures- blacks, their hopeless faces lined with despair.
A burly man wearing a shirt and pants held with a belt marched forward with a whip in his right hand, moving side by side with the slaves as he flogged anyone who delayed the queue.
The clanging of metals echoed with the slaves' bare feet that picked up clouds of dirt as they moved slowly, one painful step after another.
"Move!" The white man yelled at a boy who fell on his knees, scattering the queue. A whip pierced his skin, pulling out some of his flesh and more blood stained his back.
The boy cried in agony and blood spewed from his mouth when another whip graced his back, ripping another chunk of flesh from his battered skin.
In spite of being in pain, he struggled to stand up before another slash came forth and just like that, he staggered forward with the other slaves following behind.
Moremi felt the another surge of nausea. A cold sweat formed from her forehead.
She quickly averted her gaze from the scene before she actually vomited from irritation as she turned to Akan who rubbed her shoulders gently, encouraging her to stay put.
His grip on her arm tightened, sensing her turmoil. He too was sickened from the sight before him, he was just better at containing it.
He had also never seen the brute of these people before now. He had only heard stories and though, he believed them unlike Moremi, hearing the stories told by someone else was very different from witnessing firsthand the evil that was now happening right before his eyes.
But they were yet to see the worst part of it all.
___
"Captain George, twenty pieces of silver should do for these fine specimens." The voice of another person drew both of them back to the scene as they watched, this time, genuinely confused at the black man walking beside one of the white devils, apparently making a bargain with him.
Twenty pieces of silver...
The lead trader's face churned in distaste at the price while he inspected the prisoners, "Fifteen, and that's my final offer." He replied firmly, his face defiant, clearly not willing to negotiate further.
Moremi's mouth went agape at the sight before her. She took in the appearance of the black man who had bargained a price. From the tribal mark on his arm, she could tell he was an Azuran.
Azurans were people from the neighbouring kingdom, a few miles away from her kingdom, Mandinga.
She had heard rumours of how these Azurans were friends with the white devils but she never once imagined that it was based on selling their own kind to them... for money.
'Tueh!' She yelled abomination in her mind.
Black people selling black people. That was totally absurd.
"Fine. You can have them at that price." He stretched his hand forward for a handshake and Captain George took it reluctantly.
"They'd be sold for less next time," the man said, however, adjusting his hat to look at the Azuran then gesturing his hand to the slaves,
"These boys lack muscles, too skinny and pale, not as vibrant and agile as the last set." He complained, clearly not satisfied with his purchase.
The Azuran man smiled at him, "Do not worry, sir. I assure you the next batch will be stronger and healthier than these," he slapped one of the boys just in front of him like an animal to be weighed.
Moremi and Akan were so engrossed in this conversation that the young princess didn't realize when the bird tied to her belt lightly loosened and abruptly, the bird squawked feebly, flapping its wings desperately for life and slicing through the intense silence. She had injured it only slightly with the arrow.
Moremi was caught off guard by this as she thought both birds had long been dead since they left.
Instinctively, she stretched her hand to stop her catch from flying away as she grabbed it by the wings but it kept struggling, very noisily.
"No, princess! Let it go!" Akan yelled in a whisper as he freed her hand from the creature, "Let it go!" He said again and Moremi withdrew her hand, realizing what she had done.
The two slave traders who had been conversing instantly stopped. Hearing the disruption from behind, their eyes narrowed as they turned around and surveyed the forest, trying to trace the source of the noise.
"What was that?" The black man asked, fearing that he was being watched.
The white men stopped as well and Captain George moved closer, pulling out his gun and scanning the surrounding trees.
Moremi and Akan stilled and for a moment, time froze. Their hearts raced in panic as they held their breaths.
The Azuran exchanged glances with the whites, worry plastered all over his face. If someone had been watching, then he could be in big trouble.
Just then, Captain George spotted a bird hiding among the trees.
His brows furrowed as he observed the bird was limping, seriously injured.
Without giving it a thought, he corked his gun and shot the bird right in the head and it fell to the ground, dead.
The piercing sound of the gunshot made Moremi and Akan flinch, and other birds in the forest scattered out, flying away from the trees they had been perched on, as fast as they could.
The shocked princess, after recovering from the deafening sound of the gun returned her gaze to the bird from earlier and her face turned pale at the fresh pool of blood that it was now soaked in.
She turned to look at the small weapon that the white man held in his hand and confusion etched on her face as she stared back and forth between the bird and Captain George.
'Had this white devil just killed a limping bird with such a small weapon and a straight face from that distance?' She asked herself.
How was this possible? She briefly looked at Akan whose expression mirrored the same confusion on her face.
"What was that?" Another white man- the same burly man with the whip earlier asked, stepping forward.
"Twas nought but a wretched bird," Captain George commented and holstered his pistol in annoyance. "Not worth our trouble," he then turned to the men, "C'mon, let's move! We ain't got all day!"
And slowly, they resumed their march once more, dragging their captives away into the depths of the forest.
The clanging sound of metal, snapping sound of twigs and slashing sound of a whip echoed again as they marched, heading eastward and out of the forest but after some time, the noise died down gradually.
Once they were gone, Moremi sank back against the tree, her chest heaving from the adrenaline but also the weight of sorrow pressing down on her.
She looked at Akan, "Blacks selling blacks. It's our people selling their own," she said staring at a distance, her voice trembling with heartbreak, rage and disbelief.
Akan stayed silent, letting everything sink as he cleaned the beads of sweat that formed on his head.
He twisted his face in distaste, the memory of the gruesome scene still etched in his brain as he looked at the princess briefly with an unreadable expression.
...
However, this was just the beginning of their plights.