Njuwa lay awake long after the others had fallen into exhausted sleep. His body ached, his limbs felt as heavy as stone, but his mind was sharper than ever. Toro's words echoed in his head.
"The real battle isn't fought in the yard. It's fought in the shadows."
He needed to understand. The Baron's fortress wasn't just a prison; it was a system. And if he wanted to survive—if he wanted to escape—he needed to learn how that system worked.
A soft shuffling sound caught his attention. Someone was moving in the darkness.
Slowly, Njuwa sat up, careful not to make a sound. His eyes adjusted to the dim torchlight filtering through the iron bars. He saw a figure near the far wall, crouching beside one of the sleeping boys.
Stealing food? No. The movements were too precise.
The figure leaned closer, whispering something into the sleeping boy's ear. Then, just as quickly, he melted into the shadows.
Njuwa tensed.
A message?
He waited until the figure had slipped out of sight before lying back down. His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to breathe slowly. He would get no answers tonight.
But tomorrow, he would start looking.
---
The next morning, training resumed. The sun was barely up when Goro marched them into the yard. The older boys stood waiting, their expressions cold and expectant.
Today, there were no buckets of sand. No forced runs.
Instead, Goro held up a wooden staff.
"Today, you fight."
A murmur ran through the group. Some with excitement, others with dread.
Goro's gaze swept over them like a hawk searching for prey. "You think strength is enough? That muscle alone will keep you alive?" He snorted. "Fools. Strength without skill is weakness. And weakness is death."
He threw the staff at the nearest boy, a lanky figure with nervous eyes. "Defend yourself."
A second staff was handed to an older, more confident boy. Without hesitation, the older boy struck. The fight was over in seconds.
The younger boy lay on the ground, groaning. The older one stood over him, breathing heavily, a hint of a smirk on his lips.
Goro nodded in approval. "This is how the world works. The strong survive."
He turned to the rest of them. "Pair up."
Njuwa barely had time to react before a staff was thrust into his hands.
Across from him, his opponent stepped forward.
It was Toro.
The older boy grinned. "Looks like we get to test that fire of yours, new blood."
Njuwa tightened his grip on the staff. "I won't hold back."
Toro laughed. "Good. Neither will I."
Goro snapped his fingers. "Begin!"
Toro moved first, striking fast. Njuwa barely had time to block before the impact sent shockwaves through his arms.
Too fast.
Toro didn't give him a chance to recover. He attacked again, feinting left before sweeping low. Njuwa jumped back just in time, but his footing wavered.
Toro pressed forward.
Njuwa had no choice but to react. He shifted his grip and countered, striking out at Toro's ribs. The older boy twisted, avoiding the blow with ease.
"You've got speed," Toro admitted. "But you're not reading my movements."
Njuwa gritted his teeth. He could see it now—the small shifts in weight, the slight tensing of muscle before an attack. But seeing wasn't enough.
Toro lunged again, but this time, Njuwa was ready. He sidestepped, bringing his staff up in a sharp arc.
The wooden rod connected with Toro's side.
The older boy grunted but grinned. "Better."
Before Njuwa could press his advantage, Goro's voice rang out.
"Enough!"
They both stepped back, breathing hard.
Goro studied them for a moment before turning away. "Some of you might actually live past a year."
The training continued, but Njuwa wasn't focused on fighting anymore.
Something was happening beneath the surface of this place. He could feel it.
And he needed to know more.
---
That night, he waited.
The barracks fell into silence, but Njuwa remained awake, his breathing steady, his body still.
Then, movement.
The same shadow from the previous night emerged again.
Njuwa didn't hesitate.
He followed.
Staying low, he moved silently through the chamber, his steps carefully placed. The figure slipped through a loose section of the wooden wall, disappearing into the night.
Njuwa took a breath and followed.
The outside air was cool against his sweat-damp skin. The figure moved quickly, staying close to the fortress walls, avoiding torchlight.
Njuwa stayed back, watching.
The figure finally stopped near a stack of barrels. Another shadow emerged from the darkness, taller, broader.
A hushed conversation began.
Njuwa crept closer.
"—training is getting harder," the first voice whispered. "We need to move soon."
The second voice, deep and rough, replied, "Not yet. We're not ready."
"We may never be ready."
Silence.
Then, the taller figure sighed. "One more week. Then we act."
A rebellion.
Njuwa's heart pounded.
This was the chance he had been waiting for.
But was it the right move?
The Baron was a monster, but if they failed… it would mean death.
Njuwa clenched his fists.
He had a choice to make.
But whatever path he took…
He would not remain a slave forever.