Chains of Silvermoor

“Don’t let him free!” Rosie exclaimed as she hurried toward Darius, stopping him just as he was about to untie the dying man. “If the master finds out, we’ll all be in trouble!”

“I can’t just leave him like this!” Darius snapped, his hands trembling with a mix of anger and desperation.

Peter stepped in and grabbed Darius’s arm, forcing him to pause. “Remember why we came here,” he said firmly. “This isn’t the time to fight battles we can’t win.”

Darius’s eyes burned with frustration. “If we let this man die, what does that make us? I left everything behind to stop things like this from happening!”

Logan, silent until now, took a step closer. “Darius is right. This is a fight we can’t avoid. If we need to take a stand, we must.”

Rosie’s voice quivered as she interjected, “You don’t understand. The guards here won’t hesitate to kill anyone who breaks the rules. This man is being punished for asking for three meals a day. He’s been tied there for three days without food or water. If you help him, you’ll share his fate.”

Hans, the quick-witted one, raised his hands in a calming gesture. “The kid’s got a point. Let’s cool it, yeah? So, what’s the plan here? I didn’t throw away my life just to die on some godforsaken farm.”

Peter’s temper flared. “None of us did! But no one forced you to come along, Hans.”

“True,” Hans replied, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “But still, I didn’t expect to rot in a place like this, surrounded by—”

“You ungrateful scum!” Tom cut him off, his face red with anger. “Don’t talk about my cousin’s people like that!”

Logan’s voice cut through the rising tension. “Enough! These people need help, but we can’t act rashly. No one else will stand against the Cleft, so it’s up to us. We can either watch them enslave and kill everyone, or we can fight back.”

Darius took a deep breath and turned to the group. “I know you all think I’m some kind of leader, but I’m just a farmer. I’m not strong like Logan or clever like Peter. I only know one thing: standing against injustice is what separates the brave from the cowardly. As long as I’m leading, I won’t turn my back on what’s right.”

Before anyone could respond, a sharp voice cut through the air. “What are you boys doing here?”

The group turned to see Henry Wellington, the young master of the estate, standing with his hand hovering near his pistol.

“I said, what are you doing here instead of working? And who are you? I don’t recognize any of you,” he demanded.

Logan leaned toward Darius, whispering, “We should capture this brat right now.”

Before the situation could spiral, Avarora arrived. “Master Henry!” she called out with practiced calm. “These are new workers the master hired to help with the harvest. I was just about to show them where to work.”

Henry glared at the group, then turned back to Avarora. “Julius isn’t back yet?”

“No, my lord,” she replied smoothly.

“Get these men working immediately, and send Julius to see me as soon as he returns,” Henry ordered before walking away.

The tension broke as Henry disappeared from sight. Avarora turned to them, her face stern. “You almost got us all killed. If you’re going to survive here, you need to learn to keep your heads down.”

Darius, however, couldn’t forget the man tied to the pole. That night, he snuck water to him, vowing to find another way to save him. But it was too late—the man succumbed to his injuries a few days later.

________________________________________

The following days were a grim routine of hard labor under the watchful eyes of cruel guards. One mistake, and the whip would come down without hesitation. Logan, ever the fighter, struggled to restrain himself.

At an evening meal, Hans broke the uneasy silence. “I’ve only been here a few days, and look at this!” He pointed to the fresh welts on his back. “Maybe we should start by dealing with the traitors—our own kin who work for the Cleft.”

Ned, an older worker sitting nearby, overheard and shook his head. “Be thankful it’s just whips. If Julius were here, you’d be on your way to the mines.”

“The mines?” Darius asked, his curiosity piqued. “Do people really die there?”

“No one comes back alive,” Ned replied grimly. “If you want to live longer, keep your head down and stay quiet.”

The group fell silent, realizing the true danger of the situation. Their guns, hidden in the barn, had been discovered and confiscated by the guards. What had begun as a mission to overthrow the Cleft had turned into a desperate struggle to escape the Wellington estate alive.