Chapter 3
Coal Mines

Note: If you have not read Castle Slaves, you are missing very important information. Please go back to read it before proceeding forward. Graphic content is present please use discretion upon reading.

The room was a blur to the Saiyan as his gaze slowly woke, though he could make out two different people there. With the thought of waking up again somewhere strange, he knew not to fight this, and that he was at their mercy at the moment. As his vision cleared, he could see Officer Vanders there as well and the other, a psychologist. He had no idea what this was for, but he knew that if he didn't cooperate, that there could be trouble. Vegeta quietly looked toward the wall, no questions coming from him in the least as he tried to make sense of everything.

Jeremy came up to Vegeta slowly, and as the black eyes looked back at him, he could see years of fighting, of cruel struggle mirrored in the gaze. It caught his breath in his throat for a moment until he broke the gaze and then grinned lightly. "We were worried about you when you collapsed in the courtroom. The trial has been adjourned until further notice. How are you feeling?"

As the warrior sat up in the bed, he looked around his room and then looked back at the officer, knowing full well that someone would have to pay this bill. If he knew what he did about medical though, this would be expensive. However as he sat up, the rough and ragged Saiyan looked over toward that of Jeremy, unsure what the sharp tools were for nor what they had in mind. "I'm doing as well as could be expected. I did not expect though to be brought here."

The cop laughed with good, light humor as he looked toward the Dark Prince once more. "You're too much. Of course you should have known this was…wait." He stated, his brow knitting as he seen the serious gaze upon the Saiyan lift a somber gaze toward him in a manner that was not known to him. "You really did not expect to be brought here. How did the past wounds get healed on you then?"

Vegeta simply shrugged. "I treated them myself. When you've done it alone the first dozen times you get used to treating yourself. I had to do it though when I was alone and was not summoned by my Owners. They just would not permit the time needed until the day had ended and they were in bed. Often I was kept up hours after they went to bed getting things ready for them when they woke."

Jeremy listened intently. "What kind of things did they have you do there on the farm? I mean couldn't have been too much could it?

The Saiyan lowered his gaze and his chin tucked lightly. "During the day I was to tend the fields, aerating, weeding, and picking, anything that dealt with tending a field. Three times a day I was to go inside and prepare their meals, stoke the fireplace, wipe down the table, do the dishes, clean the floors, and then stand in a corner face out, eyes down, head tucked in submission, hands behind the back. I was to await their every whim. Sometimes it would seem like mere moments, other times, it would be hours and then I would have to suffer punishment for not getting my work done. Often times my work load would double, then at night, there was house cleaning."

Jeremy shook his head. "What about your meals or your breaks, did you have any? I mean to work that much and not have a lick of water or some food, it's just cruel."

Vegeta leaned back nodding, his gaze getting far away. "Ah, yes it was cruel, and often meals were at best scraps of food. Water was whatever I could scrounge out, from either the harvested crop that could not be used or sold, or down in the dungeons when it was raining and the walls would seem to weep with it. That was my water, my food, and should I complain, or throw a fit, I was to be soundly beaten. My work loads would double, and they would make sure that I had nothing to eat for the next week. My days were to say the least, grueling and very hard, never able to catch up, never able to please my Masters the way they wished."

The slave woke in weary exhaustion, the time early in the morning, as he slowly woke, the day was just beginning but already the Master was furious. Jerone would come to the cart as the men caught sight and moved the warrior into the mansion, there to make the slave kneel and was shackled down. A livid expression was on the darkened gaze of his Master. Jerone would sneer at the slave before him and then gave a harsh, rib caving blow to the ribs. "Though you could run from me did you slave? You know damn well that there is no escape from me. The Free and Owner always win, and you best remember that."

As he felt the ribs break, the Saiyan grit his teeth, his breath shortened from the excruciating agony. Jerone loomed over him as another sound kick was given. As the beating continued, he noticed his Master's rage becoming more and more furious. Finally Jerone leaned down and gripped the slave's jaw in his hand, looking to the slave. The Master's gaze looked disgusted as he took up a club and then letting go of the jaw would club the slave heavily. The slave was still shackled down, unable to escape the ruthless beating that ensued. Jerone on the other hand would have none of it. Gripping the slave's jaw again, he looked to the Saiyan's embittered gaze. "You don't fear me yet. Alright, fine, I'll make you fear me to the point where you will not dare try to escape nor go against my whim. My whim is your law, and breaking a law requires severe punishment."

Vegeta underwent days of brutal torment and when he was brought out, his head was lowered down, his gaze toward that of Jerone, as he was then harnessed up for the work at hand. However Jerone wished something that the Saiyan never had before, a bridle strapped upon him. As the gag bridle was brought close, Vegeta fought to keep the thing away from him, however his hair was grabbed and his head steadied as they placed a cold steel bar against his teeth. Then they would pry his jaws apart and the tightly twisted steel U shaped bit would be slipped in the mouth then strapped down. A muzzle was then fastened down upon his jaws to make sure he couldn't spit it out. Then they held onto the cheek strap of the bridle as they waited for the rest of the harness.

He stood there in shock, the taste of bitter steel in his mouth, making him thirstier as he was held. When the reins were clipped on and he thought himself free of their control, he was again met with another shock as the reins were snapped harshly, cutting his mouth with the twisted steel. Wheeling around, the guards laughed at the confused slave in their midst. The warrior shook his head. How dare they try to hold him as such! His gaze grew wild as he fought, clawing at the bridle, the muzzle keeping him from succeeding. Another harsh snap of the reins was given; the coppery taste of blood now filled his mouth and seeped down his jaw. The slave stopped and tensed, as Jerone came closer. The warrior stood quietly, his eyes the only thing that dared move as his entire form quivered with fear and pain.

Jerone grinned as he came up to the now bridled slave and checked the straps and then tugged the bit down and back on both sides at once. The arch of the bit would then press against the roof of the mouth; the slave would then be forced to tuck his head to avoid the pain as Jerone inspected the work of the bridle. As the bit was lifted in the mouth a few other things also happened. The crown piece of the bridle that went behind the head also tightened like a vice, the check strap was also tightened making it place more pressure onto the bit with minimal touch. The chin strap cinched up on the jaw, applying a great amount of pressure as the slave was left no choice but to stand still and take the prodding.

As the Owner backed away, he grinned. "Fetch the bearing rein as well. It's time this slave learned who's in charge. After all, we don't want the beast to think it can have a mind of its own. After the bearing rein is fastened, send it to work in the mines. If it has this much energy, it can certainly work to make me rich. Greed is such a beautiful thing around a slave. Work it day and night, no rest, no food or water for two weeks. We'll see how it takes to it then."

With that the Saiyan was left to the guards, as the slave was then bound with the bearing rein and hooked to a coal cart. Now when he pulled, instead of being able to lower himself in the harness, he had to pull it with his head up and back by what looked like a Y shaped set of straps. The two separate straps were threaded through the upper part of the bridle and clipped to the snaffle ring of the gag bit. Then the single strap on it would be tightened so that there was no slack. It was in this manner the slave had to pull, the pain would now shoot down his neck, into his shoulders, down his back, and into his legs. The strain was immense, the agony worse and it left the Saiyan in shock and disbelief.

Every day for the next two weeks something was always found wrong. The constant whip upon his back, the club up on the upper thigh, just below the butt would force him to keep going. Jerone came out to check on him periodically, ordering the bearing rein tightened. Every time that rein was tightened, the pain became much more severe. A couple times he fought it, but was quickly brought back under control. This new form of pain was something that the slave had never experienced. However he was always made to work. The loads of coal soon turned to gold, and the last load of each day was a cartload of bodies that he had to haul to a pile that was burned every night. The place was like a concentration camp. Little did he know, that was also being built on the outskirts of town.

Day in and day out, the slave pulled, forced to silence, made to obey the whim of his Master as the heavy beatings were kept upon the slave. On the last day, he looked like skin and bone, his head held purely by the crippling agony of the bearing rein, blind, his breathing ragged and often skipping a breath. His strength sapped, he struggled in his pull, the slave moving slowly in spite of the cruel beatings. Then his foot slipped, he fought hard to regain traction but there was nothing there, no strength at all as the slave struggled. Then upon hands and knees, he felt himself drug backwards as the whip tore at him with the ferocity of a lion. When it finally came to rest on a flat area, he collapsed with nothing left in him. Sounds faded from his hearing as his sight began to dull. They were beating him to death. Then out of the corner of his eyes, he seen a person he did not expect.

Tojar knelt beside the Saiyan as the guards backed away, and then paying the money needed for the slave, he carefully cut the bearing rein off, loosened the muzzle, and finally removed the bridle. He had heard of this new form of control, but this was severe. Gently placing the head in his lap, the others would go in for a lunch and something roused the Saiyan from his dazed state. A tear was felt upon his cheek, but not his own, it was Tojar's and the Saiyan knew in that moment, that the Trainer had a deep change of heart. Once an enemy, they were now allies at least, where they drew the line to what was acceptable. However one thing weighed heavy on the Saiyan's mind. How was his family doing?