4 Chapter 4

SAM

He pulled the burning hot iron rod backwards off from the slave's chest, "That's enough Damian!" Sam said. He ripped the rod from Damian's hands and threw it backwards out into the hallway. Lord Commander or not, Damian has been stepping way out of line as of late. He had always been a ruthless man but Sam could sit idle no longer.

Damian turned and grabbed Sam by the breastplate and slammed him into the cell bars, "Who the fuck do you think you are? Need I remind you who's in charge here?" Damian asked.

"How could anyone forget?" Sam said, the breastplate pushing up just enough to slightly cut off his air supply. With one quick motion, Sam swooped his arms under and slapped Damian's hands away. "You are out of control Damian! Another riot is just what this place needs."

Damian was staring at Sam, rage burning within his eyes, those words must have hurt more than Sam thought they would. "Mind your tongue." Damian said, getting within inches from Sam's face. "The next time you open your useless mouth, I'll have it out." Damian gave Sam one last long stare before shouldering through him and snapping his fingers, signaling for the guards to follow him.

Damian had been the Lord Commander of the slave compound since Sam had first gotten here. The man was feared by everyone, though he was pushing fifty, he was strong for his age. Jet black hair still covered the top of his head, whereas the sides began growing some grey. The tight goatee the man always wore spoke volumes about his need to look the best he could, at all times.

Sam still stood before the cell after he shut and locked the door and all the other guards dispersed. Taelsa lay upon the floor still unconscious from the pain she had just endured, Ryke, her lover knelt beside her, holding her hand. The other slaves were either still cowering, tending to Taelsa, or getting ready for bed. Ryke looked up from Taelsa and looked over to Sam. Within those eyes Sam could see pain, sorrow and anger. Those weren't the eyes of some monster, but the eyes of just another being on this earth, a being that feels, just like the Humans.

"I'm sorry." Sam said, his hands wrapped around the bars, as if those words would do a damn thing. Before a response could be given, he whirled and sped off down the dark corridor.

###

It was getting late, by this time all the night-shift slaves would be at their respective jobs and Sam would be getting ready to head to the barracks to catch some shut eye. Only he was running a little late, there was a fight in the smithy between a couple slaves changing shifts, that took some time to resolve. The Shriven were small and skinny, but by no means were they weak and frail.

After what felt like forever, he finally made his way to the barracks. Most of Damian's unit was already here, putting away their armor, preparing themselves for bed. The barracks wasn't huge, but it wasn't tiny either, though Sam always felt cramped when everyone was there at the same time. Sam was relatively new to being a guard, and he still wasn't sure what to think of it yet.

He always knew that the Shriven were slaves here, mining, forging, pretty much doing whatever they were told to do. The image he was given wasn't exactly accurate before becoming a guard here at the compound. He was always told the slaves were monsters, hideous creatures that would rip your throat out the second you turned your back to them. That these were stupid beasts, not worthy of sharing the same space as us Humans.

That's not what he saw at all, though he wasn't allowed to share that opinion, in fear of repercussions. To Sam these slaves seemed nothing more than just a scared people, doing what they were told to do, or else they suffered a beating. He had been here for close to a year now, he's seen things in these slaves, an intelligence far beyond the credit they've been given. Eventually he would just become blind to it all, or just simply stop caring, or so he was told. Whatever his opinions on the matter, had to take a back seat unfortunately, food isn't free.

Sconces were bolted to the walls between the rows of bunks, torches burning dimly in them. The beds were made out of old wood, the mattresses weren't all that softer than the wood they rested on. In the way back of the barracks were the bathrooms, large square tubs were cut into the stone floors and were filled with steaming water. Sam could go for a really hot bath right about now, if he thought he wouldn't fall asleep and drown due to exhaustion.

Sam made it to his bunk in the far corner of the room, sat down on the firm bed and glanced over everyone else. Some of the guards looked like him, kind of lost, others looked to be well acclimated, laughing, having a grand ole time. Old men, young men, all shapes and sizes, skin tones, everyone was welcome here in the guard. Though there weren't any captains in these barracks, oh no, they got to leave every night, to sleep in the comfort of their own homes. The first three years of service had to be spent living here in the barracks.

The thought of his father entered into his head, why? Sam could not say. From time to time, he found himself thinking of his father, Hough, who lived in a town called Flagus. The town was about a couple weeks ride east from here. Ever since he found out about his father's affair, he had barely spoken to Hough. Sam never met his real mother, Hough always just said that she had died during the war of his birth. Could he just trust that? Sam hadn't trusted anything his father said after the affair. After all these years, he still had never forgiven Hough.

Damian still wandered the corridors, keeping an eye on all his slaves and occasionally would peak his head into the barracks, the man hardly slept it seemed. After quite a while, all the guards were fast asleep, Sam judged by the waves of snores that washed over the room. His eyes began to finally grow heavy and before he knew it, he drifted away.

When dawn finally arrived, Sam was one of the first men up and dressed, ready for his day once more. He sat on the edge of his bed examining his sword and knife and carefully wiping it down with an oilcloth before sheathing them upon his hips. He always kept his armor and weapons in top working order, for he never wanted them to fail him when it mattered most. If there was one thing he learned from fighting in the war, it was that you always wanted to count on the steel in your hands, or it could mean your death.

The guards were issued standard cloth small clothes, black rough spun breeches and tunic and silver chainmail hauberk to go over them. The chest, the shins, and the forearms were all protected by silver plate armor. The black leather boots he had been issued were quite stiff when he first pulled them up over his feet but they quickly broke in with the amount of walking he did. That, and every night before he went to sleep, he oiled them. They didn't wear helmets inside, being tight corridors at times, their vision space would be compromised.

Sam made his way out of the barracks and down to the mess hall for his usual quick breakfast. A staff of Slaves in the kitchen cooked for the guards, quite well too. Everyone treated the cooks with more respect than the other slaves, for that, Sam couldn't fault the guards, nobody wants rat poison in their food. Sam sat at his usual table, favorite breakfast before him, which were the eggs, and this stuff the slaves called hash, whatever it was, it was delicious.

Sam made a couple friends in his time as a guard, they too were quiet and shared the same opinions on the slaves. He trusted them, Borros, and Akeer, also under the supervision of Damian. Borros was on the night shift, and sometimes Sam and Akeer would stay up at night for a while playing cards with Borros. Akeer happened to also be in Sam's squad, he was there last night when they branded Taelsa.

Akeer had told Sam that he was just as conflicted when it came to the slaves, that he felt Damian just takes it too far, all the time. But speaking out against it could mean treason, the Shriven were supposed to be viewed as bloodthirsty monsters. Except the kitchen slaves, of course, double standards at its finest. Regardless, everyone had their place, and this is just the way it is, right? That's what they just had to keep telling themselves.

Before long the doors at the other end of the mess hall flung open and Damian came stomping into the mess hall, yelling for everyone to pay attention.The morning brief everyone that everyone just loved. "Listen up." Damian said "night shift is changing soon, that means lots of Shriven running around. Keep your head on a swivel and keep them in line." He dropped a heavy foot onto Sam's table, "that means you, softy" he said, looking right at Sam with a demeaning tone to his voice.

He turned back around and walked into the center of the room, "Ore production has dropped, thus weapons, tools, armor, all of that has slowed as well." Damian looked over to a group of guards "The king is most displeased, get the production. Up. Now." He swung his eyes around the room, looking at everyone, "Remember people, this ain't a carnival, a happy slave is an unproductive slave." With those final words of encouragement, he marched out of the mess hall.

Sam and Akeer let out a sigh, got to their feet to head out and patrol the corridors. As they approached a set of doors leading out, Sam stopped to stare at his reflection in the big mess hall windows. After a long pause, he asked, "You ever feel guilty about the shit we do here?"

"Everyday brother." Akeer said, "but what are we gonna do? Slap Damians hand and say 'bad boy!'?"

"We could, yeah." Sam said after a chuckle, then turned and followed Akeer out through the doors. They headed to the cell block D, observing the slaves as they walked, it was just another typical day. Some of the days could be just downright boring, sometimes a fight would break out amongst the Shriven. They were under so much stress, and at times, Sam couldn't blame them for fighting.

They finally got to their block and started unlocking the cells, one by one, hollering into each. As Sam unlocked one of the doors with a quick wave of his hand then pushing it open, Taelsa looked up from the tap as he dried his face, his eyes met Sam's. There was a determination in the slave's eyes Sam had not seen before, he seemed calm, at peace. Given what had happened to him the night before, this caught Sam by surprise. "Alright, come on, duty calls." Sam said as he beckoned them out.

They obeyed, slow at first, but they did as they were told and headed towards wherever they were supposed to be. Taelsa didn't say a word, she touched Ryke's face gingerly as she kissed his forehead and pressed onwards, making eye contact with Sam one last time before she walked out. He couldn't help but think something was odd about Taelsa, she should be in pain still. Looking at the mark burned into Taelsa's chest, Sam felt like the one with the mark of shame, not the slave.

He watched the Shriven leave the cell and all walk their respective ways, kind of admiring them, it takes an immense amount of strength to push on every day. But when that's the only choice they really have, it's better than rolling over and dying. Still, Sam respected Taelsa for her strength, especially after everything she and Ryke had been through, to lose a son the way they had? Sam wondered if he had the strength to continue on the way they have.

Maybe he had allowed himself to get too close to Taelsa? Maybe his judgment is clouded? Maybe they would slit his throat, if given the chance? Hell, even Sam thought that he probably would, had he been the slave and they were the guards. He shook it off, and continued down the block with Akeer unlocking cell by cell. Before long they emptied the last cells and turned back to do one final patrol, making sure everyone was gone, and locking the cells once again.

"Hey Akeer, you've been here for what? Two years now?" Sam asked.

"Yeah about that, little over now." Akeer said, "Borros and I were part of the same training group. That's how we met."

"You never mentioned that before." Sam said.

"Yeah, feels so long ago now, I kinda forgot to be honest." Akeer said, peeking into a cell and then locking it. They got to the end of their block and headed towards the situation room. There they would go over the happenings of what transpired the night before, what to look out for, and a general indication as to how the day should go.

Standing in the back of the room was Borros, a big man, bald and with a big salt and peppered beard to boot. He wasn't the sharpest sword in the smithy, but he was as strong as a bull. He was always just so happy it seemed, and how he stayed happy in a place like this was beyond Sam's comprehension.

"There they are!" Borros hollered, throwing his arms in the air. "Come on, I'll fill you in on last night!" He wiggled in between the two men and put his arms around their shoulders, all the while guiding them to a couple of chairs. The situation room was crowded and bustling with all the different guards about, Borros almost had to shout to get Sam and Akeer to hear him talk about last night.

A while went by, the room still crowded, "heard there was a standoff between Damian and Antorias last night." Borros said. "Not sure what that was about, but man was Damian pissed when I saw him." Sam and Akeer shared a look, they knew exactly what that was about. Antorias is the last person Sam wanted to piss off. Damian didn't care, he wasn't afraid of pissing anyone off, save for the King.

Right when Sam opened his mouth to say why they fought, Damian walked into the room. Everyone snapped to attention and the room fell as quiet as a graveyard. He walked with such distinction, like a King would, head held high sprouting from broad shoulders. He had an arrogance to his demeanor, as if he knew whatever in front of him would just move out of the way. Probably because they always did. Everyone was terrified of Damian, they knew what he was capable of, the unspeakable things he's done. This was not a man anyone should mess with, for going after him, meant certain disaster one way or another.

"You, and you, let's go." Damian said, pointing at Sam and Akeer. Without hesitation they followed him out of the room. "We're going to the mines, see what kinda shit we've got going on down there." He said, and continued, explaining that it will do them some good, going to the mines. Sam hadn't been to the mines before, he had no idea what went on in there, except for the obvious, mining and such.

They made their way down the corridors, down past the mess hall and the medical rooms, down a few flights of stairs and countless amounts of cells. How many slaves were there? There had to be thousands of them and most of them all had the same empty look upon their faces. Would Sam grow as cold as Damian is eventually? He shuddered at that thought.

Two guards with pikes standing before the rear door snapped to attention as they approached, then slammed the shaft of the pikes on the floor and the heavy wooden doors opened. They walked outside, security was quite heavy during the day, sentries were at guard all along the castle walls, patrols marching through the streets to keep order. The slave compound guards armor they wore, were of a different style and color. The Royal Army of the capital city wore full plate armor over chainmail and sported the colors of red and gold. The higher ranks wore the cloaks as well, the sigil was the same for both the guards and the Royal Army on their cloaks, a massive golden symbol of a Griffin's head.

The entrance to the mine was huge, built right into the side of the mountain, a massive sconce in the shape of a golden Griffin's head was bolted on both sides of the opening, not lit of course. They approached the gaping entryway, no matter how close they got, Sam couldn't see past the wall of pure blackness that barred their vision. He froze right before the entrance, he still couldn't see inside, what was this? Some kind of Magic? Damian laughed and slipped into the dark. Akeer just smirked before her too, slipped into the dark. Sam pushed a hand into the wall of darkness and watched as it was completely engulfed, finding himself incredibly amused. He pushed through and felt as if his entire body had been stretched paperthin before bouncing back together bringing all new images before his eyes.

"That messes me up every time I come in here." Damian said. "Damn mages and their Magic." The black vale was something the mages did, so that city beyond couldn't see what happened beyond. Why they did this, Sam had no idea, he only assumed they wanted to hide the treatment of slaves from the civilians.

In the entryway stood two massive men, fully clad in plate armor, golden Griffin heads for pauldrons, carrying massive mauls that looked as if they could crush a man into dust with just one swing. Their armor too, were of the colors red and gold, except the armor they wore had exquisite engravings all along the plate. The visors of their helmets flipped up, revealing stern faces underneath. Small Griffin wings were attached to the sides of their helmets.

Sam was always in total awe when he laid eyes on these behemoths, they had to be seven feet tall, and strong as a bull, hell they had to be carrying those weapons. Their shoulders seemed to be almost double the width of any Human. These knights, dubbed Goliaths, weren't your typical human, something was different about them, they weren't assholes either. Even Damian didn't mess with the Goliaths, he knew they could rip him in half, he may be an asshole, but he isn't dumb.

As they made their way further into the mine, Sam got more and more uneasy as he witnessed the conditions the slaves had to endure down here. Torches lined the walls down here, flames ablaze letting out an abnormal amount of light, Damian told him the mages called it "artificial light". It was so dark down in the mines without the magic. It was also warm, Sam had wondered if that too, was some sort of magic. Magic was such an integral part of the Humans daily life, without it, he wondered if they would even survive.

A Shriven was pushing a wooden mine cart up the iron track that ran along the floor filled with black chunks of earth, which must have been the ore they are mining. He was soon followed by a few other slaves as well, each with a mine cart full of ore. Damian nodded in approval, guess production seemed much better to him. Sam looked over at Akeer walking beside him to see nothing but a blank expression on his face, that must be how Akeer deals with everything, just shuts down.

They walked around bend after bend and then the entire place just opened up to this huge open room, they were finally in the actual mine. The Cave walls were glimmering in the light, the sound of the pickaxes striking the earth, shouting, slaves pushing minecarts. The air was thick and incredibly hot and humid, the strong smell of sweat and dirt filled Sam's nose. How could the Shriven work in a place where you could barely breathe?

"You get used to it." Damian said without turning around. As if he read Sam's mind, "the air that is, your lungs just seem to get used to it." He motioned them along, and then they were off again. At the edge of the walkway was a caged in elevator that would take them down as far as they wanted to go their guide had said. Damian opened the elevator door, and they stepped in, waved his hand once again and down they went.

Essence, that's what the Humans called it, the life energy on this world. A force that flows through all living things, connecting everyone and everything to the planet. Humans eventually learned to tap into that energy, god knows how or why, and harness it for themselves. This new energy, this new force they could command, was called Magic. Now it has become an essential way of life, used in everything. Sam tried to limit the amount of magic he used, he felt the Humans have become too attached to magic, relied on it too heavily. The Kingdom to the far south were even worse apparently, it's said their entire kingdom is run off essence, that they've become completely addicted to it. Essence, a power source, is what powers the elevator they currently rode in, how the mages figured out how to do that is beyond Sam.

"Akeer." Damian said.

"Yes, my Lord?" He answered

"You're boring."

"I apologize sir."

Damian let out a laugh. "Sam's a pain in my ass, but hey, at least he's kinda entertaining." Damian wasn't wrong, Akeer was boring, at least on the job. But he didn't see Akeer off duty, what he was like after hours. That was Akeer's way of dealing with everything, he felt there wasn't anything he could do, except to just do his job, Sam could only assume based from what Akeer had told him.

Sam was trying to take in the sheer size of this place as they dropped further and further, he couldn't believe how big it was. Floor after floor, he witnessed a lot of stuff, more than he'd like to, the guards treatment of the slaves bothered Sam. If they didn't have enough to deal with as is, the Humans just had to make things worse for them, his mind wandered back to last night with Taelsa. Damian did that, all out of spite, why did he hate Taelsa so much? Because of that riot he had heard about? Working in a place like this, riots are bound to happen.

The sudden jerk at the bottom shook Sam back to reality, "wake up." Damian said, "we've got work to do." They shuffled out of the cage, turned, and walked towards the back of the mine. At the far end was a desk, at that desk a bald man writing on some papers. The man didn't even notice them standing before the desk, too enthralled at what he was doing. Damian kicked the desk, the man looked up with sheer anger but quickly wiped it away as he bolted straight to attention.

"My lord! Welcome!" The man said.

"Captain." Damian looked around at all the slaves and the guards mushing them along, "I see production has been increased today."

"Just like you ordered sir!" The Captain said.

"At ease, relax." Damian said. The Captain breathing a sigh of relief as he came back to a typical posture.

"It's not every day the Lord comes down into the mines." The captain said.

"Well, if you did your job, I wouldn't have to now would I?" Damian added. "Let's take a walk." And with that, the captain started leading the men around the mines.

"I've increased the pressure on the slaves, we've admittedly gotten lax about that." The captain said. Just then a loud crack split the air behind Sam, causing him to jump. "And more guards have been outfitted with whips."

"There's nothing alive, that isn't afraid of the crack of a whip." Damian said. They spent a good while longer observing the guards and slaves going about their business. They stood before a bunch of tunnels that slaves continually went in and out of, those coming out had big lumpy sacks swung over their shoulders. Sam assumed it was the ore they were mining. Guards patrolled along the tunnel entrances, kicking up the red dust from the krusty ground beneath their feet.

"What is your procedure with punishing the disobedience?" Damian asked.

"Well, that's exactly what I was about to show you." The captain said as they walked around the corner and towards section along the back wall. He signaled for them to watch as some guards came into view with a slave bound between them. Sam was standing before some type of upright board with straps on it. "Hook em' up." The guards obeyed.

Another guard walked over with a whip in his hands, and a twisted smile on his face. The captain gave him a nod, and the man threw the whip back, then forward, slapping and slicing into the slaves back. The slave screamed in agony as blood crept down his back, the guard continued to whip.

"What did he do?" Damian asked.

"Decided he didn't want to work today." The captain said. Damian nodded in approval. Sam grimaced with every crack of the whip, by this time the slaves back was covered in blood and massive cuts. This carried on for longer than it probably should have in Sam's opinion, "that's enough. Take him back, get him mended up."

"Fuck." Sam said quietly to himself.

"Something you'd like to say?" Damian asked, turning to Sam.

"No sir."

"What else we got?" Damian asked the captain. Then a guard brought out another slave, and explained this one had gotten caught stealing ore from another's mine cart. "Oh no well that just will not do!" Damian added. "Sam, here ya go," he took the whip from the other guard and thrust it at Sam.

Sam paused and looked at Damian with disbelief. Is he really going to try and make me whip this slave? The whip remained thrust out before him, he continued to stare at his Lord, "No."

"Excuse me?" Damian asked. The whole mine seemed to grow quiet. The Captain and his guards eyes grew wide. "Now I know you're not disobeying a direct order."

He slapped Damian's hand away, "I said, no." Sam said, staring him straight in the eyes. His anger beginning to flair within him, he would be damned before he mistreated a slave like that. They got within a couple inches of each other's faces, Damian's lips tightly pressed together, the cords in his neck stretched tight.

Damian stood there a moment not quite sure what to say. He tossed the whip over his shoulder in the direction of the guard, Sam heard it flop onto the ground with a heavy thud. "Carry on." He said, never losing eye contact with Sam. A guard took the whip and went to whip the slave. Still, Damian stood there looking at Sam, "ya know, I originally thought I'd bring you down here because you're weak, that you just needed a nudge in the right direction. I see now that I was wrong, you're something else entirely." He paused to think. "You're lucky I don't strap you to that board and whip the shit out of you myself."

"You're welcome to try." Sam said as he clenched his teeth and fists together. The cries of the slave only made his temper worse. "If you knew anything about me, you'd be the one getting strapped to that board, your naked ass streaked with blood."

"Your daddy isn't here to protect you anymore, the King handed you to me, boy. Remember what I said about opening your useless mouth? I'll have your fucking tongue."

"Make your move." Sam said, "and don't miss, don't want that being the last thing these men remember."

Damian's lip twitched and after a long pause Damian said, "what else we got?" Never breaking eye sight with Sam.

"One more happening sir." The captain said. He waved forward a group of slaves.

Damian looked away, "A group?" Damian asked.

"Yes, my Lord, these slaves attacked the guards." The captain said.

"So, this was coordinated? Organized?"

"That is correct." Pointing at one of the slaves the captain said, "there's your leader."

"Carry on." Damian said. The guards brought the slaves over and began strapping them in. "Whoa whoa, hold up. Just the leader."

"My Lord, they must all be whipped for this treachery!" The captain said.

"Strap up the leader, leave the rest to watch." Damian waved the guard with the whip away, "You think whipping is going to solve this? A few whips, send them to get mended up a bit, then back to work?"

"Well…"

"No, it won't. You have to send a message." Damian shot Sam a look of sheer spite then walked up to the slave strapped to the board. He flipped the slave around, so he could see his face. He unsheathed his knife, raised it up to examine it for a moment, looking at his reflection on the side of the silver blade. "So, do you know what you do? Captain? When you have people that plan a coup? That plan to rise up against you?" He pressed the knife against the slave's neck and looked him in the eyes, smiled, then looked over at Sam. With one swift motion he sliced clean through the slave's throat, blood gushing out and splattering onto the ground. "You kill them." Everyone's eyes were as wide as they could stretch them.

The slaves standing off to the side let out a scream as they watched their brethren die, choking on his own blood right in front of them. Damian pulled out a rag from his pocket to wipe his knife clean as he walked over to Sam. "This is what happens, when you step out of line and overstep. Everyone and everything has its place. Nothing more, nothing less."

Sheathing his blade, he turned back to the Captain, "See that production stays up. Understood?" The Captain nodded in agreement. Damian looked to Sam, "Anything else you'd like to talk about?" Sam remained silent. "Let's go."

Not a word was spoken the entire way out of the mines. Sam just thought to himself, about what goes on in these mines, how Damian wasn't affected at all after killing that slave. He almost seemed to enjoy it. Did Damian know what Sam had been planning? That Sam was looking to recruit people to his cause? After that charade he would be hard pressed to find anyone. Either way he knew something had to be done, from what the others say, Damian has been like this for a long time, so it shouldn't come as a surprise. Sam looked over at Akeer, and for the first time, there was a look in his eyes, a look that even Akeer knew something had to be done.

###

"You're a fucking cheater!" Borros bellowed as he laughed. Night had fallen upon the kingdom once more and the three friends all sat at a round table playing cards. Akeer was oddly good at this game, Sam had soon realized. Apparently bluffing about your cards was a very important mechanic in it. Akeer with mastering his stone face quite often got Borros razzled up.

"My friend!" Akeer said, "you wound me!" They both shared a laugh, Sam had not returned one himself. The others had begun to take notice of Sam's behavior. "Hey, there wasn't anything we could have done for that slave, Sam." The man placed his hand upon Sam's shoulder in reassurance.

"It's not just what happened in the mines." Sam had been growing tired of Damian and his love for hurting the slaves. Back in his home town of Flagus there weren't any slaves, peasants were the ones who did all the heavy work but were paid for the services they provided. "Damian enjoys doing what he does, you can see it on his face. A lot of the men here have also been trying to follow in Damian's footsteps." Sam threw his cards inforward face down, surrendering the round.

"And there are a lot of men here who do not follow in Damian's footsteps." Borros said, then slapped his cards down on the table face up, followed by a loud hah! "You have to take the good in with the bad, else this place will eat you up." Borros was a big man hard man, but Sam could see the concern and love in his eyes. The big man may not be as smart as Sam but the man had the biggest heart of all three of them.

"Sam," Akeer started to say, "we need to do something, I know that now." He started flinging cards to each of them, "we need to tread carefully, one misstep and it's to the gallows."

"I know that." Sam said. "I have had a couple men come up to me already, telling me that they stand behind me." Sam's lips curled upwards in a big smile as he saw the cards in his hand, finally he had gotten a good hand. The other two men saw the look on Sam's face and tossed their cards inwards in turn of one another. "You bastards! I finally got a good hand!"

"We saw. That's why we folded!" Akeer laughed, "gotta work on your stone face, my friend!"

"Talk has already begun spreading through the compound, Sam. Of what happened down in the mines." Borros threw some of his coins into the center of the table, "do you have some kind of death wish? Damian is just as likely to kill you like did that slave. Hell, knowing Damian he would challenge you to a fight to the death, he is known for being a renowned swordsman."

That would go only in Sam's favor, he too was a renowned swordsman, just nobody here knew just how good he was with a sword. He had fought in the Great War all those years ago, with the Royal Army before he was eventually sent here to the compound. Guess I owe my father some kind of thanks. "That would mean his own downfall." A smile cracked Sam's face, then quickly he dropped it, gotta work on my stone face.

"Every night, we will convene here, from now on." Sam said, "every night we will talk and plan. This has to stop. This senseless torture to the slaves has got to stop."

"You do realize you're speaking of treason?" Borros said.

"I'm in." Akeer quickly added. "Borros, you didn't see what happened in the mines. Damian is already on to us somehow. We have to do something."

"We will act like nothing is going on." Sam said, "we have to throw Damian off."

"Okay, I think I know a way to do that." Borros added.

"Good, all the while I'll speak with Antorias, he seems to hate Damian just as much as we do. With a man like that on our side, we might stand a chance. He is friends with the King too." Sam slapped his cards down on the table this time and relished the looks on his opponents face. "How was that for a stone face?"

Akeer smiled and nodded, "not too shabby!" I'll keep my eyes and ears open, watch and listen to the guards, making note of who might be willing to side with us."

"Excellent. So it's settled. Damian will fall, my friends. He will get what's coming to him, and the world will be a better place for it!"