Chapter 1

The pond was quiet at this time of the day with only the small hum of the chorus of insects and birds that settled there. This morning, however, the quiet had been spoiled at the constant splashing from the water as Sampson waded through the water, washing his bloodied feet and turning the pond water red.

The water burned his open wounds and with a hiss he pulled himself out again, kneading at his hot flesh before he conjured up enough strength to go back in again. His feet had been whipped with the long brush again by the cook after he dared to steal the leftovers taken from the Royal Family of Toombak's breakfast. He was sure the cook wouldn't notice as he scoffed half a plate of food whilst taking the dishes back to the kitchen but it was like she could smell it on him. She picked up the long brush the moment she saw him. He had no time to escape before she started to lash him continuously with it.

The long brush was the cook's special form of punishment, it was a broomstick but instead of wicker straw on the end there were thin metal poles sticking out of it. One lashing from the long brush and your skin split open in an instant. He was familiar with the brush having been beaten by it several times by it in the past.

The pain that came with it had slowly subsided and the skin at the soles of his feet had grown thicker. She had been unforgiving today, lashing him more vigorously than she had in the past.

He put it down to the stress of preparing for the Prince's birthday ball. It was by far the most lavish event of the year and given he was next in line for succession there was no expense spared for the King's only son.

When the blood stopped flowing from his feet he wrapped them in cotton bandages and began walking the forest path back to the castle. Servants aren't permitted to wear proper shoes, only on trips outside of the castle which is never. Instead they wear cloth with straps to keep it stuck to the bottom of their feet so they don't dirty the floor. It often meant they would fall off and go missing halfway through the shift causing servants to run back to their rooms halfway through their shift in search of more cloth. He had freakishly large feet of that of an old man and not a young boy's and so he was often taunted with how big his feet was.

The other servants had played a wicked game with Sampson when he first arrived, insisting that he had to coat his feet with special glue so that his cloth straps never came off. When it came for the end of his shift the glue was so strong it had embedded itself into Sampson's skin, even as he pulled and tugged it didn't come off.

In the end he had to scald his feet with hot water and scrub until the rest of the glue had come off. Given the fear of it happening again he refused to glue anything to his feet ever again. It didn't help that the cloth constantly came off his feet. He had fashioned a way to stop the cloth from coming off, pinpricking two holes into the cloth and sewing ribbon through the holes before tying both ends together.

He thought the invention of it was quite marvellous, however the other servants teased him mercilessly for it. He wasn't liked among them, mainly because other than the beatings to his body that was now horribly scarred he had always managed to keep his handsome face from harm.

It was vain to think of it of himself with such beauty but he had been told enough times how handsome he was by the servants that didn't directly despise him.

"What are you doing there Sampson?". He got up from the water, drying his feet on the grass and waved at Minnie and Perity who were ambling towards him. He had meant them both the first day he was transferred to work at the castle and they became instant friends. They were both carrying buckets of murky brown water.

They stopped before they reached him, tipping the buckets of water out onto the grass and leaving the buckets upturned. They were both helped out in the stables and the water had come from the trough that had to be replaced daily.

Minnie was the first to come over, she was the smaller of the two but only by a couple of inches. They were still a whole foot taller than him which often meant they would crane their necks up to look him in the eye. "What are you doing down the pond?".

She looked down at his feet quizzically. The long scars that looked like growing flesh nettles had long since healed but the scars had never gone away.

His body was full of them that at times he would close his eyes when he washed naked. The thought of going to bed with anyone filled him with fear that the woman would take one look at him and shriek. Minnie couldn't see the fresh scars at the bottom of his feet and he wasn't going to show her. She would only cry if she saw them. Everytime he got a beating she wept to no end as if she was the one that had been punished and not him.

"I'm just washing my feet. I had to pick apples from the Prince's private gardens and my feet got dirty".

"You should be careful Sampson, if anyone found you here in the Toombak children's private pond they would beat you until you begged for death". Her tone was light but it was no idle threat. There was a saying among the servants here. The Kingdom of Toombak was the richest in the world, people came from far and wide just to get a glimpse of it. Even if you were a lowly servant, being a servant in Toombak gave you higher status than the rich lords that lived out in the country. What wasn't commonly talked was how dangerous it was to live here. The knights had their pickings of servants to beat and maim them anytime they liked. It was why no servants ever dared walking around Toombak at night.

"Minnie, what are you saying to him now?". Perity spoke, finally making it to them, huffing her breath having exhausted herself from carrying buckets back and forth from the trough. "I'm not saying anything, I was just telling him he shouldn't come down to the pond, especially not alone".

"You weren't beaten again were you Sampson?", Perity asked suspiciously, running her eyes up and down his body in search of an injury. "I wasn't beaten". "Then why were you down by the pond". "He was washing his feet", Minnie chirped before he could answer.

"The Prince wanted me to pick apples". "He asked you to pick him apples?". Immediately both girls eyes lit up. "Not him, Master Duncan". Their widened eyes dissipated replaced with harsh scowls. None of them liked Master Duncan mainly because as the Prince's loyal servant that gave him the superiority complex of that he was above the other servants. He was in status but given the way he acted towards others you would have thought he had higher power than the Prince himself .

Master Duncan was in his 50's with a trimmed beard and glassy blue eyes that were often slow and lazy. He had been the first person Sampson met when he arrived in the Toombak's castle walls after the seamstress had sold him to work in the Royal household to buy yards of golden leaf to make dresses.

Master Duncan had subjected him to all kinds of abuse since he had joined, if he stepped a toe out of line Master Duncan would either slap him hard until his nose drew blood or beat him with his thick wooden cane he walked around with. How many times Sampson had wanted to take that cane and beat him with it himself.

The temptation was so strong at times now that he was older and could easily take on the old man now. Master Duncan seemed to think that too because his beatings had become more frequent and so had his demands. He had sent Sampson this morning to pick apples because for the Prince's apple pie. It was the eve of his 21st birthday and tomorrow there was going to be a party to celebrate.

Both girls frowned. "You know I don't talk to the Prince, I never have". That wasn't strictly true, he had once but had never told either of them. It happened a long time when he first came to the Kingdom and hadn't even known the boy he was talking to had been the Prince at the time. He only found out much later.

"What's he like the Prince?". Sampson glowered. The Prince was utterly intolerable but he couldn't tell them that. They had a complex with the Prince, they both thought of him as beautiful as the gods themselves. He was beautiful but he was also as dull as the brown water they had just thrown into the field.

"I don't interact with the Prince ever. I just fetch things for Master Duncan". Perity flopped to the ground on a sigh and with a glance down Minnie joined her. Perity and Minnie weren't blood related but they looked like they could be sisters. They were the same age, both had just turned the ripe age of 17. Their black woven hair was often braided past their backs. They had subtle differences in their faces, where Minnie's nose was small and pointed, Perity's was long and stuck out. It was her biggest insecurity and she often covered her nose if she saw any eligible bachelor within a 3 mile radius from her.

They had all been brought to the Kingdom at similar times, Minnie sold by her parents from a farm in the West country and Perity had been bought to be married from a blacksmith in Toombak. Their marriage had been tumultuous, she never spoke about it but from the pieces Sampson had heard over the years the man was abusive and a coercive drunk. He had died a few years ago and the family sold her on to the royal household to work.

Being of similar ages they had taken to each other instantly and were together for every waking minute that they could be. Sampson came a week after they did, just sold by the seamstress who had bought him from the back of a hay cart when he was a child.

The seamstress wasn't unkind, she fed and clothed him and he had a warm bed to sleep at night but she had a rough temper. She would often stick her long needles into the palms of his hand as punishment.

He would go the stream after and wash his hands from the blood. He often cried there too, seeking comfort from the trees and the desolate grassland. On a couple of occasions he would see wild animals, rabbits, deer and even one time a bear across the pond.

He hadn't gone down to the river for a long time, it was past the wall of the Kingdom and he wasn't permitted to leave the castle unless anyone told him to do so. He missed the river but the pond was the next best thing. It belonged to the Toombak children but they never came down here, afraid that the pond water would make them sick.

"Are we still going celebrating Santes tonight?", Minnie asked. "Of course, we never miss Santes". Neither him, nor Minnie or Perity knew their day of birth. Servants didn't tend to celebrate Santes, their day of birth so they had created their own. For the past 3 years in the evening they would celebrate. It was up to Sampson to steal food from the kitchens. Minnie and Perity made drinks.

Sampson heard the sound of Master Duncan's bell calling him. "I better be off girls. I'll see you tonight". Sampson rushed off but not before Minnie ran after him. "Wait Sampson". He paused briefly, knowing she wouldn't be stopping him unless it was important. The three of them had a special connection but Sampson and Minnie had always been closer.

Where Perity was wise, Minnie was often wishful thinking and got herself into trouble at times. She was too delicate too hit and since she helped out with royals events she couldn't have any visible scars because they were ugly to look at and foreign nationals only liked looking at pretty servants. The punishments dished out to her were much worse, they left her without food and water for days, one time a whole week.

"Here". She took a bottle of lavender antiseptic from her pocket and handed it to him. "What's that for?". "For your feet. You're leaving blood stains on the grass". Sampson looked down, indeed he had left a trail of blood in his retreat.

"Thank you Minnie", he murmured softly, shooting her his best smile before he rushed away again. It would only be worse for him the longer he left Master Duncan waiting. The bread he had scoffed had meant to be for Santes but when he saw them idly sitting on the plate, his mouth salivated so much he had no choice but to scoff them.

He would need to find a way to steal food from the kitchens but the Kitchen was guarded by the King's royal guard and it would be even more difficult to sneak in given that the Prince's birthday was tomorrow.

It had been the talk of the Kingdom for weeks and Sampson as well as the other servants had been run ragged for the past couple of weeks to prepare the Kingdom for the esteemed guests that would be travelling from all four corners of the globe to visit.

Sampson arrived at Master Duncan's door with his hands pressed against his back. Master Duncan regarded his hands as weapons and any time he didn't keep them out of his eyesight he took his large cane and whipped both his hands. He had broken Sampson's hands several times now and expected him to carry out his normal tasks.

Being serving hand to the Prince, Master Duncan was in his presence at all times. Sampson was his personal servant, getting his many requests so he never left the Prince's side. Despite this he only had only seen the Prince in person on a handful of occasions. He was a hermit and so rarely left his quarters other than to train combat with the knights. From the age of 11 he had studied abroad and had only returned some months earlier.

The Toombak's were gifted with dark magic. They were the only family that did not need the possession of objects to harness their power which meant their magic was strong and difficult to manage. There was talk that the Prince's magic was uncontrollable as a child and had to sent away to protect the Kingdom. Since he returned no such talk had resumed.

Sampson knocked on the door once and waited. "Enter". Master Duncan's voice was as crisp as the morning air on a cold day. He could practically feel the ice now even though it was August and the sun shone so hot that Sampson had begun to sweat. He pushed open the door and waited. "You need to pick more apples from the church yard". "Yes sir". Sampson bowed his head. No sooner had he spoken, a sharp whack hit his leg. He ignored the writhing pain, biting his lip as he his eyes began to water. There was another sharp hit, this one just as hard as the last before Master Duncan spoke again.

"You may go now and be quick about it". Sampson didn't dither, leaving as soon as Master Duncan permitted him, knowing him he would beat Sampson again giving half the chance. He wasn't sure what it was about himself that Master Duncan despised about him so much. Sampson had known Master Duncan since he was 13 and he was now 20 and yet in all that time Master Duncan had always carried a certain contempt for him. He hoped the old bastard would retire soon and put everyone who worked underneath him out of their misery.

It didn't look like that was happening anytime soon. He craved the power he had too much to ever let it go. Servants were only allowed to retire for a number of small reasons and mainly that was only if they had an injury that prevented them from doing so. The rule was different for women, she could retire from her services but only if she gave the Kingdom 4 children, promising all of them that were boys joined the King's army once they reached the ripe age at 16. It was a common choice between the servants because it not only meant they could stop working but it also guaranteed their children a position in the Kingdom.

At the ripe age Sampson still worked for the seamstress and she had refused his request to let him join given she had already paid for him and she would receive no investment back if he joined the army. When he was sold to the Kingdom, he belonged to the royal family or more the King's royal consort Duke Weston. Like many of those who held power in high up positions there was no exception to the greed he possessed or what he did with it. There were stories around the Kingdom, whispered words of the men he had beaten and the women he had assaulted and yet being part of the King's trusted consort, none of these accusations saw the light of day. If they did they were laughed at and the victims tongues were cut out for lying.

Sampson took the long route around the castle to get to the Prince's Private gardens. It was by far the biggest out of the Toombak's children private gardens which seemed unfair given that he didn't frequent them. With most gardens the flowers that grew in them were various and wide, the consensus being the more flowers you have, the richer you are.

Except there was only one flower that grew in the Prince's garden, the purple Hellebore. Purple black petals, with a yellow inside. Sampson marvelled at the flowers when he first saw them, running his hand through them until Perity had told him the flower was highly poisonous. Now whenever he came into the garden he feared the flowers that grew unruly and unkempt.

In the middle of the garden stood the old apple tree which was famous in the surrounding kingdoms. The Castle of Toombak had been built around the tree, making it older than the castle itself. It was Sampson's most treasured possession despite him not owning any of it. For he couldn't own the tree or take any part of it, the only thing he could really do was take the apples from it and give them to the cook, he didn't dare try one for himself. He was sure she would know if he even took a whiff of one and wouldn't hesitate to beat him black and blue.

It was the image of the tree that they could never take away from him. At times he wished he could take some paper and ink with him so he could draw it but as a servant he could never own such lavish items unless he stole it. He took six apples from the branches and around a dozen that had fallen on the floor around it before the crows could have their feast of them and placed them in the wicker basket before he took them down to the cook. She was still in a foul mood, he could always tell since her face would redden until she looked the deep purple colour of beetroot.

"Apples for you as requested by Master Duncan". "That dingbat, I didn't ask for anymore apples", she hissed. "Away with you boy now". She batted him away and he left before she could threaten to beat him with the long brush again.

Minnie and Perity would still be at their duties so Sampson spent the afternoon lazing about. It wasn't often he got to do so but given that the party was tomorrow night, everyone was too busy with their own tasks to find time to boss him about. It was the first time in over 7 years that the Kingdom of Toombak had opened their doors to outsiders from other Kingdoms and for good reason.

They were on the border of the Rile Sea, where across the pond the once flourishing Kingdom of Dormis was now being swallowed whole by the souls of the dead. It was an unspoken fear, something that the lowly peasants to the high kings and Queen's shared, a common enemy. The army of souls were created by the Vahda tribe.

They were the only people who could conjure black magic which gave them power like no other Kingdom. Jealousy raged between the four corners at the special powers this lowly tribe possessed and out of greed the tribe was attacked. The army of souls was created by the tribe's elder, among the living the dead thrived and destroyed the people that had come to slaughter them.

Given their new power and with a weapon like no other the tribe became selfish, taking land and wealth from other Kingdoms. No one stood against the army because they were unbeatable. You can't pierce your sword through a body which doesn't have a beating heart.

The village of Vahda was slaughtered whilst they slept, which everyone thought would perish the army but all it did was leave them with no direction. The only instruction the army had been given was to tarnish and destroy everything that stood in their way. Given the army was slow, sluggish now they had no one to guide them in the 20 years since the village of Vahda had been massacred they had destroyed over a third of the Kingdoms in the east and was no making it's way towards the West straight for the Kingdom of Toombak.

They would be upon them within a five years which was what was predicted. The only hope was the elders grandson was still alive. He was stolen by the army that came to massacre the tribe but disappeared. No one knew what happened of the boy, only that the people of Toombak and across the far Kingdoms kept him in their prayers that he might someday return and save them all. Sampson liked the story, he often told it to the Orphans that lived on the street and gave them something to hope for other than wallowing in what would be a wasted life.

He enjoyed reading to them and would fight with the stray animals to get scraps to feed them. Sampson was an orphan but he recalled nothing about what had happened to him before being bought by the seamstress or what had happened of his parents. From that moment on he had belonged to someone, the people from the haycart he was bought from, the seamstress and now the royal family of Toombak.

Orphans on the street belonged to no one and yet they were the most miserable of all, given that they had nowhere to stay, no food to eat and they shivered even in the hottest of days. Every time he thought of how dejected his life was he would look at the orphans and realise that what he had was fruitful and his future prosperous if he worked hard. He fancied himself taking Master Duncan's position one day, although he couldn't bare the thought of taking orders from the Prince.

As he sat down he traced the scar on his hand. It was round in shape and no bigger than the size of a screw which is what he had been burned with. Minnie and Perity had asked him where the scar had come from and yet he had never revealed it's origin. Despite the many wounds on his body it was the only scar he had burned into his flesh. It wasn't that he revelled in being mysterious or liked keeping secrets, more that the story of how he came to have the scar was his and his alone.

An unphysical possession that he wholeheartedly owned and no else did, except the boy that had given it to him.