WILLOCK 70

"Ezron should be here in a minute," one of the guards stated.

The journey was tiresome. As much as I would have loved to travel back to Lake of Tigris that night after my conversation with the viscount, I needed to take care of my horses. They needed rest. I had almost forgotten that they were living beings too, and were no less in need of rest than humans. I did not want to worry the viscount by asking him for a place to stay, as my interactions with William were not great. I wonder why he had taken so long to ask the princess out. If he wanted her, he should have just taken a step, bought her flowers, asked her for dances while I was away. However, maybe he did nothing of that; he was just lamely waiting for a sign from heaven to tell him to start making a move. However, I did not care to ask what the princess was doing when I was away. I guess the reason being, I would not be able to handle knowing if men had asked her out. I am sometimes overly jealous. I believe it is something in every man; you have to be jealous. If you are not, well, you never loved enough.

"Sir, he's arrived," the guard stated. I was in some inn, not Armstrong's. I was not in the mood to have Armstrong attack me or try to extort money from me. But one thing I knew deep in my mind was if I wanted to win the war of the people, it was either to win the Barons' hearts or win the gangsters' hearts. By gangsters, I meant the men who lead the society in illegal ways, for instance, selling drugs and substance abuse. Ezron's mother had a very bad attitude towards such men, but drugs are really bad. I do not condone those who sell, but if that is the way I am forced to take, then I shall have to win these men over. This means I will win the people from the bottom of the hierarchy to the top.

"Ezron...," I stated as I found my smile widening as I stood up to meet my brother. He seemed really broken and thin; I wondered what had happened to him. He had his hair shaved, just like the Iraqi styles, but he wore some ragged clothing. One would think he was robbed. Did these guards drag him here? I found myself questioning and commanded that I be left alone with Ezron.

"Brother, you look... not so good. What happened?"

"Your guards, do they have to drag someone?" He asked, and I could feel the acid in his voice. "I told you that I am not in business with any of you, you leaders, you people who call yourselves high ranks. I do not care about any of your money, even if it means not listening to you, Willock. I helped you with Iraq, didn't I? And then what, then what? You left me there, to find my own way out, without a pass or anything; the certificates only." He sure was mad; the certificates was sure the only thing I would help. True, he had never spoken in such a manner before especially on my presence. But I knew he harbored some sort of hate for the royalties. That's why it took me time before I told him what I was. Or maybe he accepted to go with me because he felt my ranks of being a bastard were easier, and I would easily be banished. The fact that I was banished made sense; it made us equals. I remembered stating we were never equals in one of our fights back in Iraq. I hated it when I remembered things I said out of anger; they just made things worse. I was quiet, and he was quiet. Sometimes talking with a man and trying to calm him down was the hardest thing I have ever faced. I usually have the littlest to no ideas of how to calm them down, how am I to calm him down?

"Okay, brother, I wrote because I needed your help," I stated in a low tone. I just wanted him to listen despite his anger. I never saw the point of trying to convince a man to be less angry. If he hated me, then let him punch my face, let us punch each other. But I needed to know how the work in Wales was doing. If he hated me, then fine, we can go our separate ways. But not before I tell him what I wanted. This journey was meant for him and him alone. "You have a lot of knowledge on Wales—the boundaries, the workings of the Barons, everything," I started, paused, and continued. I did not care if he was listening or not; I just spoke with this voice I am used to putting on when a man is angry, this face of man up brother, there is a reason I came here, all that happened was something I just could not escape. Just understand me, and let's work things out. Maybe later I shall tell you why I did that. He also was somehow set by the Vikings and Armstrong anyway. However, that was not the subject matter. We can't mix past feelings with the present. "I want you to take this map, and by tomorrow, you should make marks of where rivers end, and where the Barons have weak points. Then I shall know what to do next. And about everything that happened in Iraq, we shall talk about it. How is Ma?"

"Dead," he stated with the thickest of English accents.

"Oooh, mind a cigar?" I found myself stating back. I never knew how to react to bad news; bad news was never beautiful, especially when it involved losing such a woman.

"Doesn't matter," he stated. He was still in his mood, maybe his mood was as such because he thought we were to blame for everything.

"I could not reach out."

"Busy, ... um, with the princess?"

"Oooh, so you know."

"Yeah. I'll work on the map. I hope we can call this ends, and you shall need not a single part of me ever," he stated as he grabbed the map, stood, and left. His clothes were dirty. What happened to his mother? I found myself questioning. Mothers leave painful memories when they leave. It feels like the world remains stagnant, especially when they leave when one is not old enough to have his or her own money. Maybe women can get married, but for men, you have to hurry, you have to be a man before your age. It does not ever feel good, I know.

However, I hoped that Ezron would find a place in his heart to maybe forgive me. It was something that I needed to do. I was torn between many things, and I needed to go home. Home is always somewhere better, and it seemed that the human who wanted me killed had somehow stopped envisioning my death. However, I am not the type of man who embraces pity, but I know losing a mother, his mother was great. I don't know who would have hosted me that night, or what would have happened to me if she had not taken pity on me. Not many humans have such kind souls. Not many, even I sometimes question the niceties of my own heart. Am I really kind, or what is the picture or rather the reflection of me that people with whom I have had chances to meet envision me as? What do they see me as when they look at me? Am I a good person, am I lost, or am I just someone who has no idea about themselves? Truth is, if someone stated that I am a lost son of a Duke, I would lay no claim of denial. All this I am doing is because I have to do it; otherwise, I have no idea what I am doing. It is just a necessity. If I am not to do it, then what will become of me if the princess finally becomes my wife, and I have no money, there is no food supply, the lighting is not supplied well and not paid for, the workers barely deliver nice food? What shall become of me? I will be bringing the princess into a house of disaster, somewhere I would never even dream of having any person close to me live. I want to deal with all this before our wedding, which is in a week's time, and a part of the week is already gone. It is after the last seminar, which will be two days from now. I need to know the Barons'... well, I was dealing with so much, and now I needed also to know what was happening with my wedding suit. I would have to meet that tailor. However, I had discussed with my brother to take care of my suit. I will just collect it briefly and clearly state to her that everything that happened that day meant nothing and she should not in any places state those words to anyone, even her friends. You never know who publishes articles in Times Square; they must publish some scandal leading to the King seeing me through a different lens. There is nothing worse than having someone who sees you as a bad person when all along you were just confused or trying out ways not to be bad.

"Let's leave," I told the guards. It would be my first night sleeping in that palace. I hoped it would not be the worst disaster I have ever found myself in.

After some journey, we arrived. The gates were well guarded and huge as expected. I saw some children playing next to a house, looking at the gates and trying to observe who was inside the carriage. After watching them, I started imagining that these children would be the ones to show my sons and daughters around, to show them where school was, to play with them, and to fight with them when questions about power were asked. That was something we always did back in the days. It was always fighting about whose father was stronger and who was loved more by the people. The Barons' sons were always stubborn but honestly, very stupid. So they would just defeat me by stating that I was a bastard, which would make me tear up and head back home, as I would hear them laugh until father would come out to maybe shout at them or beat them up as a way of punishment. I hated the word bastard; I just wished then I would be a normal kid, just like my brother. I really did wish that.

"Lord Willock, the house is still in varnish; however, the right side of the room has been done. The King ordered that it be refurnished into a modern palace. You shall sleep in the courtroom of the bride," Sleeping in the bride's courtroom was mostly taboo or rather something that never happened, although the bride was supposed to visit the groom in his house. That is how it was always supposed to be.

"I shall be in the library," I stated. I did not want to say yes or no; I just left for the library. I needed to see as many maps and power books of ancient Kings and Queens over the years and what they did to win over these humans. I knew it would be hard, but nothing mattered more than making sure that I would keep my family safe. Tomorrow I would meet Ezron, and then maybe meet one of the Barons, and then head to the Lake of Tigris the day after tomorrow. I needed to deal with shipments, visit father, and check what was happening there. I had the tightest schedule I ever had all my life. I could feel the strings in my mind detaching every time I lay in bed. I barely even had time to think of the princess until now when I remembered I had forgotten to write to her today. Now I have to wake and look for inks. I wanted to show her much love, even though I was tearing apart. It was as if everything was becoming really hard. It was hard. I guess I carried it too well. Speaking with humans was never as easy, especially when it came to areas related to power. My philosophy classes taught me that. Oh, the princess...