Garinor realized there wasn’t much he could about the current state of things. His feet were bound. His hands were tied. A crowd of at least twenty people gathered nearby. Surely, others had tried escaping under these circumstances and the mere dread of the other boys signaled to him the cost of failure.
He was guided up to a plain wooden platform that was slightly raised so others could see him. His mind raced when the auction kicked into gear and he zoned out during most of it.
It wasn’t until someone offered a full gold coin and there was a unified gasp and then applause from the crowd that Garinor came back into where he was. Every new bid from that point was cheered as loud as the first. Apparently he looked like he would be a good slave. He could hear the wheezy man egging the crowd on to larger and larger bids until the whole battle was between a duke and a young lord. Then at last, the young lord had met his limit and the duke claimed Garinor as his own.
The bag was shoved back over his head as the money was given over and Garinor was dragged away. He still couldn’t do much of anything, so he planned to bide his time and then make a run for it.
Unfortunately for Garinor, the duke had dealt with slaves before, even rambunctious ones. As the days, weeks, and months wore on, Garinor was badly beaten any time he made any gesture that even hinted at escape. He received fifteen whip lashes if he mentioned anything of his former life or friends.
Eventually, the will to fight went out of him.
Life as a slave for the duke wasn’t so bad. He had food throughout the day and as the years went on he became close with some of the others. They worked together in the fields or did odd jobs like hammering away at stone to break it into sizeable chunks to be used for a cobblestone path the duke’s daughter wanted in her garden. Some winters were hard, such as when the roof of the slave rooms was blown off and snow fell inside. It became an extra job for the slaves to fix, for the duke didn’t much care if they left it as it was. He certainly didn’t relieve them of their duties for such repairs.
Periodically, strange dreams would come to Garinor about places he thought he might have visited or towns on fire or visions through doorways of time or an iron scepter and empty thrones, but he could never grasp them when he awoke. Each day was the same routine, except every ninth day, when he was free to laze about and relax.
Because of his well-earned tenure with the duke and then his heir, when Garinor became too old and feeble to work outdoors, he was given a job inside serving tea. When even that became too taxing, he was allowed to finish out his days as he wished, while newer, younger slaves tended to him as someone to revere.
So it was that Garinor did not fulfill his destiny.