Weeks passed, and the accidents continued with precision, each one more unnerving than the last. A guard's foot slipped on a slick patch of mud, sending him tumbling down a ravine; an overseer found his food poisoned with some foul-smelling rot, leaving him bedridden for days; tools went missing, only to reappear in dangerous places where they could cause serious injury.
Every day, the tension in the camp grew thicker. Whispers spread like wildfire through the barracks: Vek's ghost is haunting us. The guards muttered nervously amongst themselves, casting glances over their shoulders, their hands gripping their weapons a little tighter. The overseers, once confident in their power, had begun to waver. Some left the camp altogether, abandoning their posts under the pretense of "sickness" or "family matters."
And through it all, Leon remained silent, his face a mask of indifference as he continued his labor. But his mind was always working, always calculating. Each accident was a piece of a larger puzzle, one that was slowly, steadily, falling into place.
Jerik, however, was beginning to reap the benefits. With more overseers deserting their posts and the guards trembling in fear, Jerik had risen through the ranks. He was now an overseer himself, promoted out of necessity rather than merit. His eyes gleamed with ambition, though beneath that, Leon could still see the underlying fear that had been driving him all along.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the slaves returned to their barracks, Grig approached Leon, his face pale and drawn. He looked more nervous than usual, his hands twitching as he fiddled with a piece of bread in his pocket.
"Leon," he whispered, glancing around as though expecting someone to overhear. "There's… there's news."
Leon raised an eyebrow but didn't stop his work. He was busy sorting through scraps he had collected during the day, some pieces of rusted metal that might be useful later. "What is it, Grig?" he asked, keeping his voice low but steady.
Grig swallowed hard, glancing around once more before stepping closer. "The higher-ups… they've been notified about what's happening here. All these accidents, the fear... They're starting to catch wind of it."
Leon's hands paused for a moment before he resumed his sorting. "Go on."
Grig's voice dropped to an even lower whisper, his breath shaky. "The lord... He's coming here. Himself. He's bringing some of his men to try and figure out what's going on before the king hears about it. He's afraid—afraid the king will think he's lost control of the camp."
Leon's eyes narrowed slightly. This wasn't unexpected, but it was happening sooner than he had anticipated. The accidents had worked better than he had hoped, creating chaos and fear among the guards and overseers. But now, with the lord involved, things were going to escalate.
"How do you know this?" Leon asked, his tone neutral, though his mind was already racing ahead.
"Jerik told me," Grig muttered, his eyes darting nervously. "He's been in talks with the other overseers, and they're all scared shitless. If the lord shows up and things go wrong… heads are gonna roll. Literally."
Leon let the silence stretch between them for a moment, his thoughts coiling like a snake ready to strike. The lord's involvement complicated things, but it also presented an opportunity. If the lord was afraid of the king, then Leon could use that fear to his advantage. But first, he had to prepare. He couldn't let the lord's arrival derail everything he had built so far.
Grig shifted uncomfortably, sensing Leon's calculating silence. "So… what are you gonna do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Leon finally stood up, dusting off his hands as he turned to face Grig. His eyes were cold, hard. "We're going to continue as planned. Let the accidents keep happening. Let the fear spread. But I want you to keep your ear to the ground, Grig. I need to know the exact moment the lord arrives."
Grig nodded quickly, relief flooding his face. "Right. Right, I'll do that. Just… make sure nothing happens to me, yeah?"
Leon gave him a look that made Grig flinch. "Stay quiet. Do your job. And nothing will happen to you."
Grig swallowed and nodded again before slinking away, his nerves still raw but his greed overriding his fear for now.
Leon watched him go, his mind turning over the new information. The lord was coming, and that meant the game was changing. But Leon had played in far more dangerous arenas before. This camp was nothing compared to the battlefield. He would make sure the lord's visit would only fuel the chaos, not quell it.
For now, the accidents would continue. But soon, something bigger would have to happen—something that would tip the balance completely in the slaves' favor. Something the lord wouldn't be able to contain.
The pieces were in place. Now, it was just a matter of making the right move.