The night was thick with the scent of damp earth and sweat as Leon crouched beside Gorak near the outskirts of the labor camp. The two of them kept their voices low, their conversation drowned out by the endless buzz of insects and the occasional crackle of wood burning in the distant guard posts.
"Tomorrow's the day," Leon said, his voice like gravel, steady and unyielding. His dark eyes flickered to Gorak, assessing the man's readiness. "We need to make sure the accident happens when the lord arrives, but not too close. It needs to be subtle, something that makes the guards look incompetent but doesn't get anyone killed."
Gorak nodded, his thick arms crossed over his chest. His scarred face twitched slightly, betraying his nervousness. "What do you have in mind?"
Leon glanced around before leaning in closer. "One of the scaffolds near the wall. It's old, barely holding together as it is. One good knock, and a beam could come loose. If it falls at the right time, it'll crush a guard's leg. No death. Just pain. But enough pain to make them lose control."
Gorak rubbed his chin, considering the plan. "And you're sure about this? We've caused a lot of accidents, Leon, but this… The lord's going to be there. You sure he won't just have the guard killed for being weak?"
Leon smirked, his eyes darkening with something close to malevolent satisfaction. "That's where I come in. When the accident happens, I'll step in. I'll offer the lord something more valuable than money—my skills as a healer. He's greedy, and that greed can be used against him. He won't care about a guard's life, but he'll care about his own. And if I can show him I can keep his men from dying, I'll make myself indispensable."
Gorak grunted, still not fully convinced. "And what do you want me to do?"
"You and your men will make sure it happens at the right time. I'll be watching. The moment he arrives, you make sure the scaffold falls. The guard gets hurt, and I'll be right there to 'save' him."
Gorak's eyes gleamed with understanding. He knew this wasn't just about survival—it was about control. The guards had ruled over them with fear for so long, but now, Leon was turning that fear back on them.
"I'll handle it," Gorak said, standing to his full height. "The guard won't know what hit him."
Leon stood as well, clapping Gorak on the shoulder. "Good. Just remember, no deaths. We need them alive for this to work."
Gorak gave a grim nod before disappearing into the darkness, his footsteps fading into the night.
---
The next day, the camp buzzed with tension. Word had spread quickly that the lord would arrive at midday, and the guards were on edge, barking orders at the slaves with more venom than usual. Every lash of a whip, every cruel word seemed sharper, as if the guards were compensating for their own growing fear.
Leon kept his head down, working alongside the other slaves on the massive wall they were constructing. His muscles burned from the effort, but his mind was sharp, calculating every step. He spotted the scaffold Gorak had mentioned—an unstable structure propped up by wooden beams, barely holding together.
He glanced at the sky, watching the sun inch closer to its zenith. The lord would be here soon.
From the corner of his eye, Leon saw Gorak and a few of his trusted men positioning themselves near the scaffold. Everything was set.
The moment finally arrived when a group of horsemen rode into the camp, their arrival signaled by the heavy clop of hooves and the clattering of armor. The slaves and guards alike stopped what they were doing to watch, their faces etched with fear and awe.
At the head of the group was the lord—a man dressed in finery that seemed out of place in the grim, filthy surroundings of the camp. His eyes were cold and calculating, his expression one of bored cruelty. He surveyed the camp like a merchant appraising his goods, his mouth twisted into a thin line of disdain.
Leon's gaze locked onto the man, taking in every detail. This was the one who held their chains. But it was also the man who would be the key to Leon's next move.
The lord dismounted, speaking briefly with one of the overseers before walking toward the construction site. The moment had come.
Leon caught Gorak's eye, giving a subtle nod.
Gorak moved quickly, his men following suit. One of them "accidentally" bumped into the scaffolding, his elbow hitting just the right spot. There was a sickening crack as one of the support beams gave way, and in an instant, the scaffold collapsed.
A heavy wooden beam fell, striking a nearby guard. The man let out a scream as the weight crushed his leg, pinning him to the ground. Blood pooled quickly around the injured limb, and the slaves scattered, trying to avoid the chaos.
The camp erupted in noise—guards shouting, overseers rushing to contain the situation. But Leon moved calmly, pushing his way through the crowd. He crouched beside the injured guard, his hands already at work.
"Stay still," Leon said coldly, ripping a piece of cloth from his tunic to use as a tourniquet. The guard, pale and drenched in sweat, groaned in agony, but Leon's hands were steady as he assessed the injury.
"His leg's shattered," Leon called out to the nearby overseers, who were staring at the scene with wide, panicked eyes. "He's going to die from blood loss unless someone does something now."
One of the overseers took a step forward, but Leon shot him a look that froze him in place. "I said someone who knows what they're doing."
The lord approached, his eyes narrowing as he observed the scene. His gaze lingered on Leon, watching how he worked with precision and calm under pressure.
"You," the lord said, his voice like oil, smooth but dangerous. "You seem to know what you're doing."
Leon didn't look up, keeping his focus on the injured guard. "I'm a healer," he said simply. "This man's life is in my hands. But if you want him to live, I'll need more than what I've got here."
The lord raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And what is it you want?"
Leon finally looked up, meeting the lord's cold gaze. "Medicine. Clean water. Tools to treat the injured. If you give me those, I'll keep your men alive. I can't work miracles, but I can make sure they don't die like dogs."
The lord considered this for a moment before a slow, cruel smile spread across his face. "Interesting. You think you're worth that much?"
Leon's eyes didn't waver. "I know I am."
There was a long, tense silence before the lord nodded, his decision made. "Very well, healer. You'll get what you need. But if you fail me, I'll make sure you wish you had died with the rest of these wretches."
Leon stood, wiping the blood from his hands. "I won't fail."
As the lord walked away, Leon turned back to the injured guard, a dark satisfaction settling in his chest. The game had begun, and now, he had the lord's attention.
It was only a matter of time before everything else fell into place.