The soft murmur of the village surrounded Leon as he walked through the narrow streets, the warmth of the evening settling in. The villagers, the newly freed slaves, and the mercenaries mingled, celebrating their newfound freedom. The fires from the previous night's celebration still smoldered, a symbol of the victory they had earned together. Yet, despite the unity of the moment, Leon's mind was elsewhere—focused on the shadows that still lingered, the threats that had not yet been extinguished.
One such shadow was Grig.
Leon found him near the edge of the village, sitting alone on a low stone wall, his back hunched, hands wringing nervously. Grig had always been a survivor, someone who knew how to play both sides, to wriggle out of any situation with his life intact. He had a knack for betrayal, and Leon had no doubt that Grig had sold him to the overseers back in the camp. It was something Leon had expected, but now that the lord was dead, and their immediate danger had passed, it was time to deal with this loose thread.
As Leon approached, Grig looked up, his face pale and drawn, as if he had aged years in the short time since the battle. His eyes widened when he saw Leon coming, and he quickly stood, stumbling over his own feet in his haste.
"Leon," Grig stammered, his voice trembling. "I—I wasn't expecting to see you here."
Leon stopped a few paces from him, his expression unreadable. "We need to talk, Grig."
Grig's face crumpled, and before Leon could say anything more, he dropped to his knees, his hands clasped in front of him as if in prayer. "Please, Leon. Please. I didn't mean to sell you out. I had no choice! The overseers—they forced me. You know how it is. They would have killed me!"
Leon watched him, his face impassive as Grig continued to beg for mercy, his voice cracking with desperation.
"I didn't want to do it!" Grig insisted, his voice rising. "You have to understand! I had no way out. I thought—"
Leon raised a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Grig, stop."
Grig fell silent, looking up at Leon with wide, tear-filled eyes, his lips trembling.
"I'm not angry," Leon said, his voice calm but firm. "I knew you would do it. I knew from the beginning that you were the kind of man who would sell anyone out to save his own skin."
Grig blinked, confused. "Then… then why?"
Leon's eyes narrowed, and for the first time, Grig seemed to catch a glimpse of the cold calculation behind Leon's calm exterior. "Because I also know you're still dangerous, Grig. You've always been looking for a way out, a way to survive, no matter the cost. And now that we've built this village, you'll be looking for the next opportunity—when the first winter hits hard, or when the crops fail. You'll sell us all out to the highest bidder, even if that means the king himself."
Grig's mouth opened and closed, but no words came. The truth of Leon's statement hit him like a physical blow. He looked down at the ground, his hands trembling. "I… I wouldn't—"
"You would," Leon said, cutting him off. "And I know it. You don't care about this village, or the people in it. You're just waiting for the next opportunity to save yourself."
Grig's head hung low, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "What… what are you going to do with me?"
Leon studied him for a long moment, considering his options. He knew he couldn't simply let Grig go—not yet. Grig was too much of a liability, too much of a threat. But killing him outright wasn't an option either, not when he could still serve a purpose.
"I'm not going to kill you, Grig," Leon said finally, his voice low and cold. "Not yet, at least."
Grig looked up at him, hope flickering in his eyes.
"But I am going to make sure you know that your time is running out," Leon continued. "You're a ticking time bomb, Grig. I know you'll betray us the moment it benefits you. So here's what's going to happen: you're going to stay here, under my watch. You'll help build this village, do what's asked of you, and make yourself useful. But if I see even the slightest sign that you're plotting against us, I'll deal with you myself."
Grig swallowed hard, his face pale. "I'll—I'll do whatever you say. I swear, Leon. I won't betray you again."
Leon's gaze hardened. "I don't trust you, Grig. And I never will. But for now, you're more useful to me alive."
Grig nodded frantically, his eyes wide with fear.
Leon's voice softened, but his words were no less deadly. "And if you ever cross me again, I won't hesitate to sell you out to the king. Play you at your own game. Do you understand?"
Grig nodded again, his entire body shaking.
Leon turned to leave, his steps measured, but before he did, he glanced back over his shoulder. "Remember, Grig. I'm watching you."
As Leon walked away, leaving Grig trembling in the dirt, his mind was already spinning with plans. Grig was a liability, that much was certain. But he was also an opportunity. The man had his uses—his knowledge of trade, his ability to manipulate people, his way of surviving. If Leon played his cards right, Grig could be used to further their cause—or he could be sold out when the time was right.
The village needed to grow strong, and Leon knew that trust would be the foundation of their success. But sometimes, he would have to play the game that men like Grig played—to keep his enemies close, even when they were still a threat.
As he walked back toward the village square, where the fires still burned and the people celebrated their newfound freedom, Leon allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction. The future was uncertain, but the village would grow. And if men like Grig tried to sabotage it, Leon would be ready.