Leon sat at his worktable, the dim glow of a single candle casting elongated shadows across the room. The tools and herbs laid out before him were meticulously organized, a stark contrast to the turmoil simmering within. He had spent weeks carefully crafting his plan to escape this wretched place, but the increased presence of guards patrolling the corridors signaled that time was running out. His coded messages to Gorak had been intercepted, or at least suspected, tightening the noose around his neck.
He leaned back, rubbing his temples. Communicating the final details of the escape to the slaves had become nearly impossible. The servants were watched, and any unusual activity was met with swift suspicion. He needed another way—a direct line to the information he required. And that meant confronting the two men who had betrayed him: Jerik and Grig.
A soft knock on the door pulled Leon from his thoughts. Before he could respond, the door creaked open, and Jerik stepped inside. His eyes darted around the room before settling on Leon.
"Long time no see," Jerik muttered, attempting a casual tone that fell flat.
Leon regarded him coolly. "Indeed. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Jerik shifted uncomfortably, his fingers fidgeting with the hilt of the dagger at his belt. "Thought I'd check in on you. Heard you've been busy."
"Busy keeping your men alive," Leon replied evenly. "Is that a problem?"
Jerik forced a chuckle. "Not at all. The lord appreciates your... contributions."
Leon stood, his gaze piercing. "Cut to the chase, Jerik. Why are you really here?"
Jerik's facade cracked. He glanced toward the door, ensuring they were alone, then lowered his voice. "Things are getting tense. The guards are on edge, the slaves are restless. Rumors are spreading faster than we can squash them."
"And you think I have something to do with that?" Leon asked, arching an eyebrow.
Jerik hesitated. "I think you know more than you're letting on. And so does the lord."
Leon took a step closer. "Is that so?"
"Look," Jerik said, raising his hands defensively. "I'm trying to help you. If you have information, now's the time to share it. It might earn you some favor."
Leon felt a cold anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. "Favor? Like the favor you and Grig earned when you sold me out?"
Jerik's eyes widened slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't play dumb," Leon snapped, his voice low but laced with menace. "You thought you'd gain something by betraying me. How did that work out for you?"
Jerik swallowed hard. "We did what we had to do. Survival, you know how it is."
Leon clenched his jaw, restraining the urge to lash out. "Survival. Is that what you call trading others' lives for your own gain?"
Jerik bristled. "Don't act all high and mighty. You're no saint. You've been stirring the pot since you got here."
"Perhaps," Leon conceded. "But unlike you, I haven't abandoned those who trusted me."
Jerik sneered. "Trust doesn't get you far in this place."
"Depends on how you use it," Leon replied sharply.
Silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken tension. Leon knew he needed to control the conversation, to extract the information he required.
He took a slow breath, softening his tone slightly. "Jerik, we can still help each other."
Jerik eyed him warily. "How?"
"I need information," Leon stated. "Detailed information about the lord, the guards, the layout of this camp. In return, I can ensure you're on the right side when things change."
Jerik scoffed. "And why should I believe you?"
"Because I have nothing left to lose," Leon said, his gaze unwavering. "And neither do you."
Jerik hesitated, the weight of Leon's words sinking in. "What's your plan?"
"Escape," Leon replied bluntly. "Not just for me, but for all of us."
"That's suicide," Jerik retorted. "The camp is fortified, guards everywhere."
"Every fortress has its weaknesses," Leon countered. "You have access to areas I don't. You can get me the information I need."
Jerik shook his head. "Even if I wanted to help, which I'm not saying I do, the risk is too great. The lord would have our heads."
Leon stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "If you don't help me, I can guarantee that your situation will become far worse than anything the lord could do."
"Is that a threat?" Jerik challenged, his hand instinctively moving to his dagger.
Leon met his gaze coldly. "It's a promise. You've seen what I can do without resources. Imagine what I can accomplish now."
Jerik's face paled slightly. "You're bluffing."
"Am I?" Leon asked, his eyes narrowing. "Think about it. The accidents, the whispers of Vek's ghost—do you really believe those were mere coincidences?"
Jerik faltered, uncertainty flickering across his features. "You... you orchestrated all that?"
Leon didn't answer directly. "I have capabilities you don't understand. And right now, you're standing between me and what I need."
Jerik swallowed, his bravado waning. "If I help you, what's in it for me?"
"Freedom," Leon said simply. "A chance to get out of this place alive."
Jerik glanced away, weighing his options. "Fine. What do you want to know?"
"Everything," Leon replied. "Start with the lord. His routines, his guards, any vulnerabilities."
Jerik sighed, resigned. "The lord stays in the main building, heavily guarded. He trusts no one, but he's predictable. Every evening, he meets with his advisors at the same time. The guards change shifts every four hours, and there's a gap during the handover."
"Security measures?" Leon pressed.
"Patrols around the perimeter, but the eastern wall is weaker—old construction. There's a storage area nearby that's less monitored."
Leon nodded thoughtfully. "What about the guards themselves? Morale, loyalties?"
Jerik shrugged. "Mixed. Some are loyal to the lord out of fear or greed, others just do their job. Tensions are high with the recent unrest."
"And the slaves?"
"Ready to riot if given the chance," Jerik admitted. "But without weapons or a plan, it would be a massacre."
Leon leaned back, considering the information. "Weapons can be obtained. A plan is forming."
Jerik looked at him skeptically. "You really think you can pull this off?"
"I don't think," Leon corrected. "I know."
Jerik ran a hand through his hair. "You're mad."
"Perhaps," Leon allowed. "But madness and genius often walk hand in hand."
A tense silence settled between them. Finally, Jerik asked, "What do you need me to do?"
"Continue as you have," Leon instructed. "Gather more details—guard rotations, armory locations, any dissent among the ranks. And keep this between us."
"And Grig?" Jerik inquired.
Leon's expression hardened. "I'll deal with Grig."
Jerik nodded slowly. "Fine. But if this goes south..."
"It won't," Leon assured him. "But remember, Jerik—betray me again, and there won't be a place you can hide."
Jerik shivered slightly, the weight of the threat evident. "Understood."
As Jerik turned to leave, Leon called after him. "One more thing."
Jerik paused at the door. "What?"
"Tell the guards that I've been cooperative," Leon said. "That I'm focused on my work."
Jerik smirked faintly. "Covering your tracks?"
"Merely setting the stage," Leon replied. "Now go."
Jerik left without another word, the door closing softly behind him.
Alone once more, Leon exhaled slowly. The encounter had been a gamble, but a necessary one. He had planted the seeds of doubt in Jerik's mind, leveraged his fear and self-interest. Now, he had valuable information to refine his plan.
But there was still the matter of Grig. The weasel had a knack for survival, but his loose tongue was a liability. Leon would need to address that before moving forward.
He sat back at the table, pulling out a scrap of parchment. Sketching a rough map of the camp, he marked the weak points Jerik had mentioned. The eastern wall, the guard rotations, the storage area—all pieces of the puzzle.
His mind turned to the slaves. Communicating the plan to them remained a challenge. The increased guard presence made direct contact risky. He would need to find an alternative—a way to relay instructions without arousing suspicion.
Perhaps Mara could assist. As a servant, she moved with relative freedom. And she had proven herself trustworthy.
Leon stood, crossing the room to where Mara was organizing supplies. She looked up as he approached.
"Mara," he began, keeping his voice low. "I need your help."
She nodded attentively. "Of course."
"I have a message that needs to reach the slaves," he explained. "But it must be done discreetly."
She considered this. "The guards are watching everyone closely."
"I know," Leon acknowledged. "But there's a way. The riddles we've been sharing—they can carry more specific instructions."
Her eyes widened slightly. "You mean encode the message within the sayings?"
"Exactly," Leon confirmed. "But we need to be careful."
She smiled faintly. "I think I can help with that."
Together, they began crafting a new set of phrases, each laced with subtle cues that Gorak and the others would recognize.
"The river runs deepest where the banks are wide," Mara suggested.
Leon nodded appreciatively. "Good. That can indicate the eastern wall."
"And 'When shadows overlap, paths become clear,'" she added.
"Perfect," Leon agreed. "Timing during the guard shift change."
As they worked, a sense of purpose solidified between them. The plan was taking shape, and with it, a glimmer of hope.
But Leon knew they were racing against the clock. The increased patrols, the lord's suspicions—any misstep could spell disaster.
He met Mara's gaze. "This is dangerous. If you're caught..."
She held his gaze steadily. "I understand the risks. But I believe in what we're doing."
Leon felt a surge of gratitude. "Thank you."
She placed a hand on his arm. "We're in this together."
As night enveloped the camp, Leon felt a renewed determination. The path ahead was treacherous, but he was no stranger to peril. With allies like Mara and, reluctantly, Jerik, he had a chance to tip the scales.
He glanced toward the window, the faint glow of torches illuminating the walls beyond. Somewhere out there, Gorak and the others awaited his signal.
"Hold on," he whispered into the darkness. "It's almost time."