chapter 9

If Sampson knew what would happen to him once the knights arrived he would have forgotten about all the things he made the Prince promise him and chosen to flee instead. The knights had arrived at nightfall and by then they had been searching for the Prince for over a day with no rest and no food.

Sampson tried to explain it was the night beast that had caused such extensive damages to the Prince and not him but given that the night beast was in the cave and he had no injuries to speak of after supposedly killing it himself none of them believed him.

The Prince was taken by Onyx and Sampson was chained by his hands and feet and made to walk back to the castle. His legs were almost healed but having put so much strain on them they gradually began to worsen. He expected to be put on trial the moment he came back but the King was more concerned with the health of the Prince and so demanded he be thrown in the dungeons instead to await trial where he most likely would be sentenced to death.

Even unconscious the Prince found a way to make his threats come true. He had spent three days in the dungeon and in that time he had only been brought a bucket of water once and some stale bread. The dungeons were deathly cold and the ground wet so it was inevitable that Sampson would catch a fever. He had thin skin with no muscle or fat to protect his body.

He lay on his stomach with his hands and feet curled up, making himself as small as he possibly could. He had developed a whooping cough the night before and whenever he had a coughing fit it would send him onto his back.

With death being so near, it should have been blatant on his mind and yet the only thing he could think about was that he possessed magic. He had spent the most of those three days staring at the door of the cell he was placed in and willing it to open. Eventually he had become to ill to even think of escape and spent many hours passed out.

When nightfall of the third day came Sampson there would have to be a miracle for him to reach the 4th. His stomach ached for food and his mouth was dry he sucked from the small puddles on the floor filled with murky brown water.

His eyes were closed when he heard an almighty crash but it seemed to far away to concern him. Someone let out a loud roar and only then did he drag his swimming eyes open. His vision was clouded and blurry and he could only make out blurring shapes that lacked colour. The door to the cell swung open and a moving shape neared him. He couldn't see it's face but it was menacing as it walked towards him.

The figure bent down and approached him slowly like it was afraid of Sampson's huddled figure. Sampson felt a hot breath near his ear and he subconsciously moved towards it like it could warm his entire body. "I think you've punished enough, next time you should listen when I tell you to do something". Even on the verge of death Sampson could still let out an annoyed breath. So the Prince had finally recovered. He had prayed the Prince would wake up and tell everyone that they had made a mistake.

He felt the Prince's strong arms swoop his body into his chest and carry him out of the cave. It should have given him hope but Sampson felt far from saved. He felt pain everywhere, in his back, legs and a resounding pain in his head like he had been beaten on every surface of his skin.

*

Sampson woke up feeling the complete opposite to how he'd fallen asleep. Where he had felt pain everywhere, his body now felt numb. He couldn't feel his arms or his legs, even his head was surprisingly clear. He peeled his eyes open, finding hot compresses on his arms and legs that were individually wrapped in blankets.

He lifted his head, recognising the room that he was in immediately. He had hidden in here when he ran out of the grand hall after telling the souls to leave. It seemed whoever the room belonged didn't usually have guests, like before paper were strewn on every surface and piles of books lay scattered on the floor. Sampson removed the compresses from his arms and legs before unwrapping the blankets.

He had been dressed in thick blue winter robes, with his thin robe nowhere to speak off. "Good, you're finally awake". Sampson hadn't expected anyone to speak so when a voice sounded behind him it gave him such a fright he fell from the table he had been lying on. Pain shot through his back as he groaned.

The man who scared him stood in front of him, staring insolently at him. "Well, are you going to get up?". Sampson rose to his feet and it was then he could take a proper look at the man. He had a long beard that reached past his waist which competed with the gold tassels on his purple robe. His eyes were pointed and his expression annoyed.

He didn't say a word as he approached Sampson. The nearer he got, the more Sampson backed away. "So this is the lost son of Vahda", he murmured. He pinched at Sampson's arms and prodded his shoulders. "Who are you?", Sampson demanded, moving back from the strange man that seemed intent on touching him.

"Uncle, leave him be". Sampson turned, finding the Prince had just entered the room. His arm lay in a sling, his chest was covered but Sampson could see the bandages peeking from underneath his clothes. Sampson felt a little unnerved seeing the Prince, mainly because he had no idea what to say to him. The first words that should have came out of his mouth were to thank the Prince for saving him but it was like they were stuck deep down in his throat and refused to come out.

The Prince neared them, casting a disapproving look to his Uncle. "I thought I told you to fetch me when he woke". "Why should I? I have things to be getting on with. I cant save you and a boy and go on with my spells".

"Spells?". Sampson began to finally connect the dots, this was the Prince's Uncle, or known widely as the great teacher. The great teacher?! Sampson bowed his head immediately and blurted out his apologies. Only the Toombak's were allowed to see the great teacher.

"What are you apologising for?", the man spoke. Sampson lifted his head. "Ugh…I did not mean to see his grace's face. Had I have known you were the great teacher I would have averted my eyes". Sampson had half expected the old man to slap him or threaten to send him straight to the gates of hell but instead he started laughing.

"He must have caught a high fever, he is acting quite peculiar", he murmured to the Prince once he had stopped. Sampson looked between them bewildered. "I don't understand". "You are the lost son of the Vahda tribe. It is my Uncle that should be bowing to you", the Prince murmured. Even he, usually cold faced and stoic had a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

Sampson blushed red, now feeling humiliated by them both. "Enough of the bowing. You can call me Deiniol". Sampson nodded, though he still felt out of place. He had still yet to get his bearings and grip onto everything that had happened over the past week.

"Where am I?". "You're in my room where you have been for the last two days", Deiniol spoke. "Two days?". Was that long he had been passed out for? What had happened of Minnie and Perity in that time?

Sampson bowed to them both. "Forgive me, I'll take my leave". He swivelled on his heel but he only made it as far as a few steps before the Prince was gripping his forearm. "You should stay here, it isn't safe for you to be alone in the castle just yet".

"What do you mean? Didn't you tell them it was the night beast that hurt you and not me?". "I have an audience with my father this evening. Until then you should stay put". He knew the Prince was only trying to help him but ever since he had become the esteemed lost son he felt like a dog tied up with a tight chain. The little freedom he did have diminished over night.

"I will be making potions in the next room. No one disturb me". Deiniol walked across the room and opened the door on the other side, slamming it behind him. "Is he really the great teacher?", Sampson asked. "He is peculiar. The reason no one is allowed to see him is not because of his powers but more because he would frighten anyone he comes into contact with".

"How is your arm?". "It will take another few weeks to fully heal but my arm is fine". Sampson nodded but he couldn't help feel a tinge of guilt, if he had stayed put like the Prince had told him to he would have never ended up being injured.

"Who told you I was put in the dungeon?". "Onyx. I asked my father but he refused to tell me", he spat lowly. "At least you made good on your promise, ha ha ha". His laugh came out dry and his throat was sore and scratchy. "Believe me, that is the last place I wanted to see you when I came around. I was furious they kept you in there".

"They thought I had injured you. I'm surprised they didn't kill me the moment I stepped back into the castle walls". The Prince's face darkened and Sampson thought he might have said something wrong.

"What happened to the night beast?". "I killed it". "How?". "I did what you said, I stabbed it in the middle and straight into it's heart". "You could barely wield a sword before you went into that cave and now you're telling me you managed to kill a night beast by yourself".

Hearing it said out loud Sampson could hear how unbelievable it sounded. But he wanted to keep the fact that he knew he could do magic a secret for the time being.

"I couldn't believe it myself". The Prince had been standing at a distance from him and had been slowly approaching him as they conversed. Now he was looming over Sampson with a menacing stare.

"The last thing I remember was the night beast knocking us both to the ground and the sword being thrown across the cave. How did you manage to kill it?". Sampson cleared his throat nervously and the Prince bore his eyes down on him. "The next time you speak think about how I'm the only one saving you from your imminent death".

Sampson took several steps back. "What can I say other than you are an excellent teacher. I would have never been able to kill it if you hadn't taught me to use a sword the day before". It was quite clearly the words the Prince didn't want to hear as he took another threatening step forward. The blood vessels in his neck looked fit to burst. Sampson could see his hands, not yet curled up to balls at his sides and he wondered why the Prince hadn't beat him yet and demand Sampson confess to the truth. It wasn't like he'd never beaten a servant before.

"The truth Sampson, I won't ask for it again". "How do you know I'm not telling the truth?", he murmured. He wasn't trying to sound intimidated by the nervous wavering in his voice gave him away. He took another step back and fell back on the table. The Prince reached out to steady him but lost his footing and fell on top of him.

For a moment Sampson head was filled with white nose, he didn't react straight away and by the time he did he realised he and the Prince had been in this position for quite some time. Their eyes were connected and so were their chests and yet the Prince hadn't pushed him away.

Up close his dark brown eyes were almost hazel. A sudden thought filled his stomach filling it with air. How many people had, had the privilege of seeing him in this way? As soon as the thought came Sampson pushed the Prince's chest.

"Get up, you're squashing me", he kept his humour light despite the continuous trembling in his voice. "If you want me to move then tell me the truth". To further reiterate his point he captured Sampson's hand in his own and pressed it down on the wooden table top so he couldn't push the Prince away again.

"How did you defeat the night beast?". Sampson sighed, his chest feeling extremely heavy to the point he wanted to drop down to the floor to unburden himself with it's heavy load. He wanted to keep his magic a secret but he could see now he didn't have the luxury of secrets.

"I moved it". "Moved it how?". "I made it float into the air, like how you showed me outside the cave with the rock". The Prince's expression remained indifferent, despite Sampson thinking he would be overjoyed with this news. He moved back and dropped Sampson's wrist, he would have slumped to the floor if it weren't for the Prince's strong grip on his shoulder lifting him up from the table and keeping him steady.

"Good". The Prince dropped his hold from his shoulders and moved back several paces. "Good?", Sampson murmured, a little puzzled. Hadn't the Prince been desperate for him to prove that he had magic and to claim he was rightfully the lost son of Vahda.

"Where you expecting something else? I told you before I already knew you had magic, do you think I'd be surprised when you told me something I already know". Sampson's mouth gaped. The Prince shared minimal of what he was feeling, he was neither happy nor sad most days. His face remained the same intolerable cold expression but Sampson thought that he could at least bare a smile at these words.

"You should practice, you will have to prove you have magic in front of my father and his consort". "I can't? Why must I?".

"It will greatly change my father's mind about killing you and everyone else's. I'm sure I don't have to tell you this Sampson but word has spread that you are the lost son of the Vahda tribe. You must prove yourself to be an unstoppable force".

Sampson felt deflated, he would rather he never figured out how to use his magic than become a show pony for others. "What about my conditions? I'm not doing anything until you do what you've promised me". The Prince picked up one of Deiniol's ink feathers and began writing on parchment paper. Sampson watched him for a moment before he slowly approached. The Prince had written all of Sampson's conditions on the parchment paper and signed the bottom.

"When you sign this contract I not only agree to your conditions but you agree to mine". Sampson looked down at the paper once more, reading it over in case he missed something but there was nothing of the Prince's conditions to speak of. "You haven't told me of your conditions. How can I sign it if I don't know what I'm signing for?".

"My conditions are simple and not important yet". He picked up the feather and pushed it into Sampson's palm. "Sign it before I change my mind and send you back to the dungeons". Sampson knew he wouldn't, he had only just saved him from the dungeons and yet he couldn't mistake the seriousness of his tone.

He scribbled his name down at the bottom and the Prince rolled it up and placed it into the pocket of his robes. "I need to request an audience with my father". "I should go see Minnie and Perity". The Prince shot him a warning look. "You are to stay here".

"There are no night beasts in the castle your highness. I will be perfectly safe". "My father has his men looking for you. You will not last a minute outside of that door", he threatened. "I know my way around the castle, I will not get caught".

"Are you intent on getting yourself killed? I have never met someone who obeys a direct order like you do. Do not think just because you are no longer a servant that you cannot obey the Prince of Toombak". His words struck Sampson as harshly as they would if they had been screamed at him. It was true that the Prince also saw him in this way. This talk of him no longer being a servant and a special member of the royal household had been something to sweeten him to stop him from running away.

Sampson could feel anger pulsing through him, stronger that he had ever felt it before. The Prince glared at him one final time before he left and Sampson stayed rooted in spot, the Prince's words continued to circle in his head. He wanted to believe that the Prince thought of him differently but all he was, was another pawn.

He felt so angry, more angry than he felt after a beating or when he had been spoken down to again. Sampson closed his eyes, immersing himself in the darkness whilst his heart pulsed widely. He felt like there was a cloud over his body dragging him deeper into his angered thoughts. He opened his eyes once more and staggered backwards. Every object in the room had risen several metres in the air.

"You possess powerful magic Sampson". The voice behind him shocked him and the objects fell to the ground. The room looked like it had been ransacked but it only looked marginally worse than before. "I am sorry Deiniol". He bowed at the old man.

"Pick up your chin of the floor boy. There is no need to bow in front of me". Sampson looked up hesitantly. He was unlike the great teacher he had imagined in his head. He imagined a cold stare, billowing robes made of the finest silk and for every finger to be dressed with large jewels like the Kings. Sampson's version of the great teacher made the actual one look like a pauper in comparison.

He wore robes that resembled Sampson. The fabric was rough and covered in soot as if he had just come back from cleaning the chimneys. He carried no jewellery, Sampson was sure anything he did carry would be scratched and tarnished and of little value.

"I am sorry great leader", Sampson murmured again. "Enough of the apologising. Must you repeat the same thing so many times. I have a headache already". "I am…", Sampson paused and closed his mouth. Now that the Prince wasn't here he was unsure of what was expected of him.

"When did you find out you could do magic?". "Back in the cave when the night beast was attacking us. It was a fluke really, I wasn't even trying to make it float. I just wanted to stop it from killing me". "What were you thinking about when it was attacking you?". "I'm not sure", Sampson murmured. He couldn't relay his story to the great leader because it involved the Prince.

"I see…I fear it is not only black magic running through you but something else". "What do you mean?". "I'm not sure yet. But for now you should be careful Sampson. Your magic is strong and you don't know how to control it properly yet". Sampson had no response for this. He had no idea how he managed to make everything in the room float, considering he hadn't even meant to. The only thing he could think of was how angry he was with the Prince.

"Linshanth told me you were bought by the seamstress". Sampson nodded. "I was bought of the back of a hay cart. The seamstress told me they were selling children for work". "And what do you recall of your life before that?". Sampson thought long and hard despite the fact he had many times in the past tried to recall how he came to be an orphan. He was sure if he had parents it wasn't something he would easily forget. He had never know what it was liked to be loved, that emotion was completely foreign to him as it was for most people.

"I don't remember". Deiniol looked like he wanted to say something more but he was stopping himself. "Get some rest, I'm sure my nephew will have enough for you to do once he returns".

"Deiniol can I ask you something?", Sampson murmured before he could leave. The man waited patiently though his interest was piqued as he watched Sampson earnestly. "How is it I didn't realise I possessed magic until now? Surely I would have known sooner".

"There is no specific age that magic presents itself but I admit it is strange that it was only appeared after you reached adulthood". "Why would that be?". "You must have been suppressing it somehow. The stronger your magic becomes the harder it will be for you to control it".

Sampson's chest sunk. "What if I can't control it?". It seemed like Deiniol was having the same thought because he didn't speak for several minutes. "You have to Sampson. Your magic is powerful, even more so than the Toombak's. The Vahda tribe were the only sorcerers in history that could cross the line between the living and the dead. If you were to lose control it could be the end of us all".

Sampson felt his shoulders dip at having to carry such a heavy burden. He was truly cursed. "You shouldn't worry Sampson, the safest place for you is here. I have taught my nieces and nephews how to control their magic and I will do the same for you".

"Do you know how to destroy the army of souls?". The Prince hadn't been sure and now that it was expected of him Sampson was beginning to worry. He thought it was as simple as telling the souls to leave and they would, he didn't think it required some sacred ritual to rid them of the earth.

"Only a member of the Vahda tribe can destroy the souls, since they were the ones that created them". "The Prince said the same thing. How can I destroy them if I don't know how they were created".

"When you are strong enough you must go to Verish where the tribe was slaughtered. It is there you will find your answer". There was more he wasn't Sampson, it was clear in his features but Sampson didn't press for more.

The Vahda tribe, once the most feared people in the world had been slaughtered and abolished in a matter of hours. But Sampson had no idea who killed the tribe, no one did. "Do you know who killed the members of the Vahda tribe".

"Get some rest Sampson. You've put a lot of strain on your body in the last couple of days". Deiniol bowed and left, retiring to his study. It was clear the great teacher was a hermit and it became more clear to Sampson that it wasn't that no one was permitted to see him but more because he didn't want to see anyone.

He was one of the people who could spend years without human contact. He half expected the great teacher to act with great disdain, looking down on him like he was nothing but he had not. He wasn't as cold as the Prince, even the King could smile now and then. If Sampson hadn't met the Prince as a boy he would have thought he had always been this way.

Sampson figured somewhere in his youth he must have got his heartbroken and it never healed properly enough for him to ever let anyone close enough. It was the only explanation as to why he had no interest to all the beautiful princess who were fighting for his attention. If they even ever looked in Sampson direction he was sure he would die from flattery.

Sampson returned to the table but as he closed his eyes all he could think about Minnie and Perity and what might have happened to them when the Prince caught them and the punishment he might have given them.

When images of them became violent he fled the room. Despite what the Prince had demanded of him, he cared for them too much to not go to them. He would deal with the consequences later.