[2] JAWAD

J A W A D.

I love being alone. I find peace in solitary life. I pull the halter around Aqwa's neck-my favourite horse. His pace decelerates as we get closer to my favourite spot. Aqwa freezes and releases a loud neigh when we stand in front of the large Acacia tree. I slide down from Aqwa's back swiftly. My face comes in contact with his left side. I watch as his black oval eyelid close concealing his eyes, that little action placed a small smile on my face. I rub his mane, which I get a snort in return.

Aqwa has been my horse since I was 9 years of age. I don't like having long conversation with people, but I feel comfortable with Aqwa. I rummage the woollen bag hanging on Aqwa's back for my water gourd and woven mat. I spread the mat under the tree. A small rock stood beside the tree which gives a perfect view of the small flowing river when sat on. Our neighbouring kingdom-Wahda- can also be seen from on top of the rock.

After minutes of reciting the Quran, I remove the sword, tucked in its golden scabbard. My sword is always with me, hanging around my body underneath the layer of heavy clothing. The golden hilt of the sharp metal sword adorned my hand; the sharp blade can cut through any flesh with just a touch. The sword responds to my hand movement, up in the air the blade moves from left to right cutting through the floating sand particles.

"yahhh yarhh." I make determined sounds as I continue practising, using the blank air as my enemy. My left eye catches a swift movement behind me. The person must have thought I won't notice him because my back is turned to him, but he's wrong. I have very sensitive sense organs, even if it was a tiny housefly, I will sense it.

I raise my sword forward in case it is an enemy. I took small, light steps towards the rock the person is using as a hiding spot. An old bald man sat huddled behind the huge irregular rock-which looks brown because it has been coated with the desert's sand. The man shut his eyes tightly. His intertwined hands occupying the centre of his face like he is praying to God.

I brought my sword close to his neck, but I ensure to leave enough space, so it won't slice through his flesh. "Who are you... and what are you doing here?" I declare my presence.

"Please spare my life...please don't kill me," The man cries. His knees hit the floor, he bent his head down, and the portion of his head devoid of his white hair-any hair-faces my legs.

"Answer my question. What are you doing here?"

"Please, Amir..." he whimpers. "I'm from the Wahda kingdom, my kids are dying of hunger and I don't have money. Famine is also taking over the kingdom. I came here to see if I can get something... please spare me."

He knows I'm a prince, that explains why he's trepid. I lower my sword, "you know the rules, any trespasser shall be killed."

"please Amirul mumineen spare... spare me please, or my kids shall die of hunger." His head bends lower. His hands are almost touching my feet.

The right thing for me to do according to the law of the land is to kill him at that spot, and show his remains to my people for more praises. "Go and never come back." I hand him the stack of gold which rested in my trouser's pocket.

"jazakallahi khairan Amir. Jazakallahi khairan, shukran." he holds my feet tightly, "may Allah repay you." He stands up from his position, his hands slaps against each other as he dusts them. He expresses his appreciation for the last time before scampering away from my sight.

I watch as the man makes way to the small flowing river which is the border between Dhahab and Wahda. I take long strides towards where Aqwa rested.

"It's time to go," I say to Aqwa then I climb on his back. I pull his halter and he starts galloping towards the palace.

Aqwa slows down when the palace comes into view. Normally, I would have taken the secret route-known only to the king and princes, but today I pass through the main entry of the palace. Something deep inside me tells me it's because of that girl I saw the other day. The girl with the blue eyes, no, more like the girl with the transparent eyes. Her eye colour is in between blue and transparent. Light blue.

That day, when I finished tying Aqwa and turned to find her eyes on me, a string tugged in my heart. I replied her salaam then left into the palace, but the picture of her face didn't leave me-or appropriately the picture of her eyes because I didn't really catch a glimpse of her full face. I was enthralled and lost for the short time I stared into her eyes, they were unique.

It disappoints me a little to see that she isn't in front of the palace. Is she a maid? But she wasn't putting on the maid's uniform. Or maybe she's... I'm short of ideas, or possibly she's Khadijah's friend, I shall ask her then.

****

I rub Aqwa's mane for the last time before closing his stall. The hays littered on the floor makes swooshing sounds as I step over them to enter the palace. My hands took the hood on my head down; I almost forget I haven't taken it down. It has become a part of me because I don't like being recognized when I'm out of the palace. It rips me of my solitude.

I reply to greetings as I walk towards my private chamber, only a few are privileged to see me often. A few like my; parents, siblings and some of my guards.

"Amir, Amir." I'm about to push the door to my room open when I hear my name. I turn to the hallway the sound generated from. I see a guard clad in a white robe with a rectangular red clothing tied around his waist, and a silver sword in its scabbard stays in place underneath the red clothing. "salam alaykum Amir." the guard pants, then ducks his head down.

"Walaykum salam."

"Amir, sultan request your presence in his chamber," he says still ducking his head,

"Okay I'll be there."

"hasanan jalalatak." he says, he gives a last bow then turn to his heels.

Abi doesn't summon me if he doesn't have a valid reason. I pray it isn't another war this time. Not like I'm weak, but I'm still haunted by the last war I fought. Countless people were killed, blood soaked my hands and clothe by the time the war ended. It was not that much of a sight to behold.

I freshen up and change my sweaty clothes, then starts making way to Abi's chamber. It is on the western side of the palace. I walk through the pavement at the centre of the garden. The greenery of the garden compliments the large water fountain placed on both sides. I step down the stairs when I got to the front of the two large erected pillars which signify the beginning of Abi's chamber.

There is tight security around Abi's chamber. It wasn't as tight as this when I was younger. The older Abi got, the tighter the surrounding security got. The guards greet and show their signs of respect-by bowing or putting one of their knees down-as I pass the narrow hallway to Abi's room.

I take in a deep breath when I face Abi's door, then join my knuckles with the large wooden door.

"Taael lildalkhil." Abi gives his permission. I bend the golden handle of the door, causing it to swing open. Two Stoic guards stand by each sides of the door. Abi is sitting on his king-size bed made of expensive carved wood studded with gold and pearls.

"salam alaykum Abi," I greet. He pulls the cover lying on his leg over his whole body, then he lays flat on the bed. He signals with his hand for the guards to leave the room.

"Walaykum salam Jawad." he says in a low voice when the guards left. It hurts to see the man I always look up to shrivel away with time. The gallant and strong, able young man has now become the delicate frail old man lying in front of me. Abi's health started deteriorating, that was why I was asked to lead the Wahda-Dhahab war. Well, my elder brother-Zayd-would have led the war if he didn't get into a fight which deemed him unfit for the war. Thinking about Zayd and his habits makes my blood boil.

"The guard said you require my presence" I break the silence that is starting to build up.

"Yes... I do indeed... I need to discuss a matter with you," he declares. His eyes shift to stare into mine directly, "I've been thinking about it for a while now."

"Okay Abi, I'm listening." he looks serious. I know Abi well enough to know when he's in a serious or playful mood. I shift the wooden, carved chair close to his bed backwards a little causing it to make a screeching sound with the hard cemented floor, then I recline my frame in it.

"Since you're done with the pilgrimage, and you're of age now..." he says, "I think it's time for you to get married. It's time for you to complete your deen, as you know, marriage is half of the deen."

The thought of being married never crossed my mind until Abi says it now. I'm not against marriage, but I've never imagined being married to someone. Abi must have noticed the confusion written on my face.

"You don't have to worry the royal bridal selection will be held for you, you just have to pray everything goes well and Allah makes her the best for you," Abi assures me.

"Okay Abi, I'm fine with it," I reply.

"jazakallahi khairan. The town crier will spread the news tomorrow. The selection will hold upon sighting of the next moon."

The thought of the unique eyed lady flashes my mind again. Will she also participate? Aargh, I need to stop thinking about her.

"Okay Abi... how's your health?" I inquire. He gives me a small smile that makes the wrinkles around his eyes more prominent.

"Alhamdulillah, I'm fine as you can see, I'm strong now... I can defeat any army with my bare hands," he jokes. He laughs, which I join as well. The sounds of our laughter dies down, I bid him goodbye, then ambulate out of his room.

I sight Zayd when I'm about to climb the stairs leading away from Abi's chamber. It looks like he is about to visit Abi.

"salam alaykum," I greet. He eyes me viciously then releases a full-blown laughter.

"Who do we have here? The hero of our kingdom." he claps. The scar on his well sculpted face-which runs from the side of his mouth down his neck-moves as he talks.

"You are supposed to reply to the salam." I gritt out. Zayd always finds a way to get on my nerves. He's an annoying coward.

"I don't know...," he whispers, "you know I'm not as intelligent as you are." his uneven breath fans my ear.

"Yes you aren't...that's why I will always correct you whenever you're wrong." I give him back his words, But repackaged.

"Arrant nonsense...you're not and will never be better than I am." he spits out. "I'll defeat you... I promise you that." his finger is very close to my eyeball, but I won't blink.

I watch as Zayd walks away. I was, and I will never be in a competition with Zayd. I don't understand the nonsense he's spewing from his mouth.