chapter 10

Minnie and Perity were out by the pond when Sampson found them. It was late in the afternoon and they would have finished their duties for the day. There were only a handful of places they could be at that time and Sampson figured the pond would be the first place to start. They almost never went to the pond in the winter because it snowed heavily during those months and Minnie and Perity both held a strong disliking to the cold. It was Sampson's favourite time of year because he could wear an extra robe and the padding helped when it came to his beatings. It gave his scars time to heal in between. He had tried to adopt the same thing in the summer but Toombak's temperate soared during the summer and so it was impossible unless he wanted to pass out from having to wear so many layers.

It's extreme weather often meant visitors frequented all year around, some for the snow and others for the summer markets where the farmers from the outer lying villages sold their produce. Sampson loved to walk through the street at that time of year, he often had no more than a few pennies to spend but he managed to make it stretch between the three of them. They would take their treats down to the pond in summer and spend the whole day basking in the heat.

Sampson thought about last summer as he approached them. Master Duncan had demanded many tasks of him and he often didn't finish until well into the night when the sun had gone down and the summer heat had turned into a cool breeze.

Minnie and Perity were long asleep by then and instead he opted to sit out by the pond himself. He would wait until the moon came out until he left himself but often at times he would fall asleep under the stars.

Sampson he would have found Minnie crying whilst Perity consoled her but it was something else entirely. They both lay laughing in fits of giggles in the grass. It surprised him so much that he halted in his paces. A spike of jealousy ran through him.

He wanted to be as unaware as they were and to laugh in the grass with them. But as he stood a few feet away, he felt like a stranger. They were the same but in a matter of days his life had changed completely. Nothing would ever be the same and he had stop pretending that it was.

He turned away from them and left before they saw him. He had a bitter taste in his mouth as he walked back through the servants quarters. He stopped outside of his old room, pushing the curtain open. None of the men were sleeping inside the room but their beds were made.

Sampson knew it wasn't safe for him to be there, by now word would have spread throughout the Kingdom of his position and servants had a strong disliking to their masters that they watched over. He had taken a servant nor would he ever treat a servant the same way he had but he was no longer like them and so that made him different.

It was only now he saw how cramped the room was, 4 men squished together on one floor in a room no bigger than a shoe box. It was so cramped they slept over each other. In the dead of the night that only sounds that could be heard was the sound of limbs knocking together and rumbling stomachs.

He had always hated being in here and often loathed the time when it came to sleep but for some reason he sought comfort in this room. Here he had only been a servant and he lived every day the same. Sampson lay on one of the straw blankets that was no thicker than a sheet of parchment paper. He closed his eyes and began to drift off.

Sampson had never counted himself as a fool so when he woke up with a sharp blade pressed against his neck he immediately knew his error. His eyes peeled open and he found the three other men he shared a room with staring down at him. Two of them looked worried, exchanging pale faced looks with each other whilst the one that held a knife to looked like his temple was fit to burst. His eyes were wild and flushed.

"Get up slowly or I'll cut your neck". Sampson slowly pushed himself up from the floor mindful of the blade that was shoved against the sensitive skin of his neck. In all the beatings he had received no one had ever threatened him like this before.

He was shoved against the wall whilst the blade remained stagnant. "I don't this is a good idea. Have you heard what they're calling him?", the timid one out of the group spoke. Sampson recalled his name might have been Tim. "The Lost Son of Vahda, do you know how much we'll get for him on the black market. We would never have to work as servants ever again".

So this is why they were holding him hostage because they wanted to sell him for money. Sampson would have thought it pitiful if not obvious. Given his power he would fetch a high price for them. They wouldn't have the status of a King but they would most likely be rich enough to become lords.

"This won't end well for you". "Shut up", the one who held the blade sneered. Sampson could feel warmth growing in his neck, the skin where the blade was held felt itchy and hot. "I must return to my chambers. If I do not the Prince will come looking for me".

If they had finished their duties for the night it was most likely the Prince would have already discovered that he was missing. He would be cursing Sampson to hell now, he was most likely regretting taking him out of the dungeons.

"How are we going to get him out of the castle?". "We won't be able to tonight. They've had extra patrols ever since the souls invaded the castle", Tim murmured. It was clear that he had been coaxed into joining their group. He didn't seem like the type to hurt a fly let alone a person.

He would mumble every now and then in his sleep. It was never anything coherent but at times Sampson made out pieces of what he was dreaming about. He guessed from how he moved and the sweat that poured from his head that like Sampson he was often beaten. Sampson had been the same way when he was young but eventually learned to hide his nightmares. But they still crept up on him now and then.

"They'll search everywhere, we don't have a choice we'll have to move him". "Give me the blankets", the one holding the blade demanded. They swept the blankets from the floor, not bothering to bat the dust of them before they rolled them and used them to tie his hands and feet. One ripped the hem of his shirt to gag his mouth, wrapping it tightly so only muffled sounds came out. Only then was the blade removed.

"We will have to carry him". "I don't think this is a good idea. What if we're caught?". "If we see knights approaching we kill him and run". Sampson shuddered. Hadn't it only been a matter of a few days ago that he had slept in the same room as them. They weren't friends or close confidants, he wasn't even sure of any of their names but they lives they shared pitted them together regardless.

"Kill him? We can't do that", Tim's bottom lip trembled and his eyes leaked like he was going to start crying. The other man slapped him on the back. "Stiffen up. If we pull this off we'll be rich". "I'd rather have nothing than be dead", Tim murmured.

"Then have nothing, we'll be rich enough to sail the seven kingdoms". Sampson was pulled up by his arms by both men whilst Tim's trembling hands took his legs into his arms. "If you scream I'll kill you and throw you in the river when no one will find your body", the other man hissed.

Sampson tried to shout regardless but it was pointless either way. If another servant heard him they wouldn't come to check. It's not like theft and murder wasn't common down here. When you're fed by scraps you have to fight for everything, even the clothes on your back. Sampson had seen some horrific murders in his time.

There was one recently, two men had fought over a piece of stale bread. One of them had his eyes scratched out whilst the other had been bloodily beaten. Both men had died due to their injuries and the piece of bread remained untouched and inedible due to the pool of blood that was lying in it.

Master Duncan had relayed the story back to the Prince who had called them both savages whilst he tucked into his breakfast. The table was ladened with fruit, meat, cheese and lots of bread. He only finished half of it and left the rest. It would be fought over later when the cook dished out the food. There was a pecking order with food and with Sampson being at the bottom he often had to go days without a single morsel of it.

Even as he lay with his hands and feet bound he couldn't blame them for what desperate measures had driven them to do. "Open the door and be quiet. If we get caught we're all done for". "I really don't think we should be doing this", Tim trembled. His face was pasty red and Sampson wasn't sure if it was from having to carry the load of his legs or because he was nervous.

Tim like him barely had a scrap of meat on his bones but he was younger than Sampson. He wished he had asked him his story now as to how he became a servant of Toombak. But it didn't matter to ask before.

"There's patrols, I think we should wait till first light". The men thought it over before they exchanged the same resonating look. There was a period where the knight switched patrol from day to night, it was no more than an hour but in that time they could get Sampson out of the Kingdom undetected.

"Fine, we wait here for now". Sampson was dropped back on the floor, and shoved back against the wall. This time they didn't threaten him with the blade since the gag prevented him from shouting. They huddled together as a three in front of him.

"Once we get out of the castle we'll sell him to the black market". "What will they do with him then?", Tim asked. The one with green eyes shrugged. "What does it matter? Once we have our money we don't need to concern ourselves".

They conversed for a few hours whilst they waited for first light. They talked about what they would do once they had their money. Both men talked of owning their own castles and ruling over a small kingdom themselves whilst Tim stayed silent, content to listen.

When first light eventually came they picked him up the same way as they had done before. At his arms with Tim holding his legs. Where they were was a direct path from the outer lying villages since servants often had to collect cows and sheep from the farm.

They held him until they walked through the forest path and only then the binding on his legs were cut. "You can walk yourself but if you dare run I'll cut off your feet". Sampson ignored his threats, and kept walking. He thought the Prince would have come to save him by now or maybe he hadn't noticed yet. He had left for an audience with his father and perhaps they had already sentenced him to death.

They walked along the path for several hours. The men grumbled their complaints before talk of the money they would receive lifted their spirits. They tugged Sampson along the path, causing him to fall several times. They cursed him and dragged him up before continuing on their way once more.

Sampson had never been to the black market before so he had no idea what to expect. But he had heard many stories. You could buy anything in the black market, weapons, food, little trinkets but it was notoriously known for it's human and animal exports. Women were often bought to be wives or young men for slave labour.

Sampson knew they were approaching when he smelled a heavy scent of smoke in the air. It seemed to cloud around him making it impossible for him to breath.

He struggled against the gag but they paid him no attention. They shared anxious looks between each other as they approached. Tim coughed loudly from the smoke and the man with green eyes clapped him on the back. "Stop making so much noise, you have no idea of the people lurking in these woods". It was clear they were out of their depth but they continued walking.

The black market was kept hidden under the barricade of trees and protected under a cloud of dust. It was far too deep into the woods for the knights to find on their regular patrols. Sampson shuddered when he heard a riveting scream. His head turned to the side as he saw two men trying to force a young woman into a cage that barely looked big enough for a dog.

She was screaming whilst they laughed. Sampson felt like he was going to be sick but he kept walking. There was nothing he could do with his hands tied together.

The three men didn't know where to start at first. It was clear they had never been to the black market before. Servants couldn't delve deep into the forest and so the market had become somewhat of a myth between them. It was clear in their widened looks and questioning expressions that they couldn't quite believe it actually existed. Sampson would have been the same had it not been for the last couple of days proving that the impossible really wasn't a far fetched as it seemed.

The deeper into the black market they walked Sampson couldn't help but feel like it felt somewhat familiar. He recognised the smell of burning ash and fire smoke like he had smelt it before but couldn't place where.

"Tim stay here and guard him. We're going to go find a buyer". "Are you sure?". Tim looked at Sampson warily, they were of similar build but Sampson was a couple of inches taller than him. "If he tries to run he won't get far". They took some solid chain outside the horse paddock and chained him to it and left. Both going in a different direction. Sampson knew he didn't have long before they would be running back.

He tried to speak through the gag but it was impossible so he started coughing, bending his chest over and convulsing like he was about to be sick. "What's wrong?". Sampson shook his head, making more vomiting sounds until Tim took the initiative and unravelled the gag. "Are you okay?".

His hand patted Sampson back in a slow moving motion. He flinched. "Don't touch my back". Tim removed his hand at once, his eyes blazing with worry. "You don't have to do this. If you take me back to the castle now I'll make sure nothing will happen to you". "You're only saying that. If I let you go, you'll kill us all". "I can see they forced you into it, Ill tell the Prince and make sure no harm comes to you".

"They'll kill me if I let you go". "Then come with me where it's safe". "I can't". Tim looked away from Sampson, ashamed. "I need the money. My sister sent word that my mother was sick and we can't afford the medicine".

"Your name is Tim isn't it". "Timothy but everyone calls me Tim". "Do you know my name?". He thought for some time but in the end shook his head. Sampson wasn't even sure if he had ever told him.

"You kidnapped a man and you don't even know his name. How do you know I am the one you need?". "I saw you with the Prince when he was training you. I heard him calling you the lost son of the Vahda tribe". "You are making a mistake Tim. This will not end well". "I don't have a choice". Despite his protests Tim secured the gag around Sampson's mouth and stood away from him. His hands were fiddling at his sides and sweat continued to pour from his temple to show how nervous he was.

Eventually the green eyed man stalked back followed by the other. "Get the boy up, we've found a buyer". Sampson was reluctant to go now, he would have thought the Prince would have come for him by now given what was at stake. He kicked his legs in the air and dragged his feet, causing all three of them to have to hold his body down.

He twisted his head and let out muffled shouts to which the people passing by ignored. Many of were men with rough expressions. Many had scars from battle and lost limbs. The black market was full of bandits. It would have been wise for the Prince not to step foot in here since many of them would be out for his blood.

Sampson was dragged into one of the tents and thrown onto the ground next to a pair of worn boots. Given that his hands were tied in front of him, the men had to lift him up to stand on his knees. The man they had brought him too wore silk robes and diamonds covered his neck. Along his left cheek ran a jagged scar.

Sampson watched him for a few precarious moments as his heart ticked wildly. There was something oddly familiar about him but this wasn't the sort of person you could cross paths with and not remember.

"This is the boy I told you about. The Lost Son of Vahda". "Can you prove the boy is the lost son?". "I saw him training with the Prince. He can control the souls". The man's lip lifted a little but he still bared a serious expression. There were no warmth in his features and his eyes were cobalt and still.

"How much will you pay us for him?", one of the men asked greedily. "You need to prove he's the lost son first". "I already told you…". "Am I fool to believe three servants trying to get money?". "We're telling the truth, he really is the lost son". "Then you won't have trouble proving it".

Sampson was unnerved. How could you prove he was the lost son without the presence of a soul. It seemed the man was thinking the same thing because he spoke. "How can we prove it?". The man nodded to one of his slaves behind him who opened a black box away from where he had been standing. Out of the box he brought out a sword covered in indented markings.

It looked as intricate as the Prince sword and that had been passed down from generations. Forged from the finest materials on earth. The sword was carried to the man who held it in a strong grip and loosely as if he cared little for the possession he was holding. "Untie his hands". "Tell us what you're doing first", the man with green eyes spoke.

"This sword was forged from the ashes of the Verish mountain. This sword has killed countless people". The three men marvelled at it whilst Sampson stayed stagnant. He felt a sharp pain in his chest the longer he stared at the sword. He could feel a pull towards it and he wanted to prise it off the man who held is so carelessly.

"The things I could do with this sword but it's been sealed ever since it was stolen. Only a member of the tribe can pull it out and use it. If the boy can then I'll know you're telling me the truth and you can demand your price". The three men sucked in excited breaths. They unwrapped Sampson's hands from where they had been bound tightly. Sampson rubbed at his wrists that were now covered in red burns. "Take the sword". Sampson didn't say a word nor did he reach out to hold the sword that he desperately wanted to get his hands on.

"Are you deaf? Take the sword". The one that had pressed the blade against his neck not so long ago pushed him towards it. "You'll have to kill me first". Sampson knew of the damage this man could do if he were to use this sword and so he refused.

The man who held the sword seemed to find his resolve amusing since his lips quirked a touch. "Hold him down, if he will not draw the sword willingly he must do so unwillingly". In the next instant Sampson was pushed down onto his back with a knee pressed on his outstretched arm whilst the rest of his body was held down.

The man holding the sword came towards him and wrapped his hand over Sampson's drawing the sword into his palm. It was cool to touch and Sampson felt the searing pain in his chest start to lessen.

The man gripped Sampson's hand tightly until his hand felt numb to his movements. Despite how much he tried to resist the man began to draw the sword out from his holster. The sword was silver jade, it's blade long and shining.

Sampson struggled against the gag, muffling demands for the man to give him back the sword. It felt such a connection with it, he felt violent watching someone else hold what belonged to him. "This really is the lost son", the man chuckled. "And to think we get to meet again". Sampson stopped struggling almost immediately as the man's words resonated through him.

"What do you mean meet again?", Tim spoke, asking for him. It hadn't only captured Sampson's attention but the three men also. "Here". He threw a pouch stuffed with money at them. "You've got your money now and go". Both men left fighting over the pouch whilst Tim wavered.

"What are you going to do with him?". The man had been looking at his own reflection in the sword for some time that he didn't realise Tim was still standing there. "What are you still doing here?", he threatened, raising the sword at him. Tim acted like a skittish cat, giving Sampson once last apologetic look before running out of the tent.

The man looked behind him and gestured for his two slaves to leave, so it was just him and Sampson left in the tent. He rounded the back of Sampson and used to tip of the blade to cut his gag but kept the blade close to his face like he couldn't decide whether to cut him with it also.

"Have you met me before?". It was the first words that fell from his lips the moment the gag fell from his mouth. The words came out raspy and hoarse and unlike his own words since his mouth lacked any moisture. The man chuckled. "You were just a baby when you came into my possession", he mused. "What are you talking about?".

"What's it worth for you to know the truth?". "You already have the sword, what more could you want?". "The sword was mine to begin with it so it's not yours to bargain. How about this…?". His eyes gleamed wickedly. "You control the souls to destroy the Kingdom of Toombak and I'll tell you everything you want to know".

Sampson gaped at him. Didn't he know what he was asking for? Toombak was a powerful source, it stood the greatest Kingdom in the world. The souls would rip it to pieces like it had done every other kingdom until there was nothing left of it. "If you destroy Toombak with you at my side I'll become the next King. You will live the life of luxury".

Sampson wasn't naïve enough to know what this man was capable of. He would be a merciless King, even more than the King On. He would never agree to it. "I won't destroy Toombak". "Then you will never know how you came here". "Please, you have to tell me". He needed to know how he was sold to the black market as a baby and who had sold him.

"Destroy Toombak and I'll tell you everything you want to know". A commotion outside took their tension away. His slaves ran back in. "Merda we have to go, the knights of Toombak are here". He had only just finished his sentence when a sword ran through his chest. Sampson watched in horror as his body fell to the ground until he took his attention to the Prince who was holding a sword now coated in blood.