Sam had nowhere to go after Boromir's death. For a time, he had heard a voice in his head guiding him, but even that faded away even as Lorien looked just a small speck on the horizon. The last he heard of the route to Mordor, was to follow the path, and to go where it led him. For days together, he walked his way, along the River Anduin. He tried his best to stay hidden from view, but it wasn't meant to happen. Saruman, unknown to many others , was now a traitor. The Uruk-Hai, a new race, bred by Cúrunir, as he was also known, at Orthanc, now pursued him. He ran as far as his fatigued legs could take him, and then he fell, bringing down with him, the hopes of the free people. Now, when he needed to get up and run again, his strength betrayed him. He couldn't make it. He was caught, and there was no denying it. He had brought the free people to their doom. Frodo's sacrifice was in vain, and so was Boromir's. He hid the ring as best as he could, and surrendered himself to his fate. He had been captured, but to his horror, he learnt that he was to be brought alive. They would torture him, bring him so close to death yet make him evade it, just like he, along with the ring, had evaded them. They had realized as such when all his company but him.had vanished from under the influence of the Eye.
It wasn't long before he learnt of the atrocities that lay ahead of him. The Uruks had a task to finish, near the lands of Rohan. They awaited a particular prince. They would be rewarded well for getting him out of the way. Sam was made to join the battle. If he died, they would just retrieve the ring. If he didn't he'd have to suffer just as much, watching people die, and being forced to kill them. He had no choice. If he had to guard the ring, he had to do it with his life. The battle seemed to go on forever. Every time he heard a man go down fighting, it pained him. Men were dying to protect their homeland, while he hid behind darker forces, to guard a little trinket. He could bear it no more when the prince was taken down. Not one man survived, and neither did they wish to. With their prince gone, they lost all cause for victory. Théodred was his name, the Uruks claimed. He was young. Far too young. Once again, he tried to escape, but to no avail. He was threatened, whipped, blindfolded, and bound.
Days later, he heard the sounds of an approaching army, and once more prepared for death. This time, he wouldn't fight back. He wouldn't try to protect himself. He hoped his end would come soon, and with that, the ring would once more be lost to legend. He lay at the sight of battle, gagged, blindfolded and bound. If the Uruks perished, he too would join them. It was then that the men found him. Yes. Men. They would have killed him too, in fact, they had thought he was dead, and would have burnt him, if not for the vigilance of their leader. They realized that he was a hostage, and decided to take him along with them, at least till he was fit to journey alone, once again. After all, they hoped that he would be able to tell them much about the battle that had ensued thus far, and about the enemy's plans. Of course, they were mistaken. Once Sam found himself awake, he noticed that he was in a tent. Their leader had seemed to him like royalty, and yet, here he was, fighting side by side with his people, with what would have been a very small portion of the army. He made his way out of the tent, trying to slip off unnoticed. This time too, luck betrayed him. He was caught. The alert nature of their leader which had saved his life, had just brought him to what he thought was a worse fate. He didn't know what was to come, just that his long kept secret may not stay hidden for much longer once they got through with him.