Targeting the Weak Link

Kain sat in the dirt, watching the young guard from the corner of his eye.

He was new, barely more than a boy. He didn't eat with the others, didn't joke, didn't carry himself like someone fully part of the group.

A stray.

Alric's words echoed in his mind: "If you're smart, you won't ask him for food. You'll give him a reason to give it to you."

Kain flexed his fingers. Time to see if he could do it.

He moved when the guard was alone.

Kain walked toward him slowly.

The guard stiffened, stepping back, gripping the spear tighter.

"Relax," Kain muttered, keeping his voice even. "I'm not here to fight."

The guard's eyes flicked toward the other men, unsure. He didn't want to be seen talking to a prisoner.

Good.

Kain leaned against the wagon, voice low.

"You don't belong here."

The guard frowned. "Shut up."

"You think they trust you?" He gestured toward Garik's men. "You think they'll have your back when things go bad?"

The guard's grip on his spear twitched.

Kain pressed forward. "I've seen men like you before. You're useful now, but when the real blood starts flowing? You'll be the first one they throw away."

Silence.

The guard's fingers flexed.

"But there's a way to change that," Kain said smoothly.

The guard's eyes flicked toward him, wary.

"A favor."

The guard didn't answer. But he was still listening.

"It's nothing big," Kain continued. "Just a little food. Just enough to keep my strength. That's all."

The guard's fingers tightened around his spear. His lips pressed together, uncertainty flashing in his eyes.

Kain could feel him wavering.

One step closer.

One push.

Then, the moment shattered.

The guard suddenly shook his head, stepping back. His voice was sharp.

"No. I'm not helping you."

Kain's muscles tensed. Too fast. Too direct. He had miscalculated.

He wasn't a lost stray anymore. Kain had pushed him too far, too fast.

"Don't try this again," the guard hissed, his voice low.

His eyes darted toward Garik's men, he was scared, not of Kain, but of being caught.

"You think you're smart, but Garik sees everything."

He took another step back, making the distance clear.

"You ask again, and I'll be the one telling him."

Then he turned and walked off.

Kain let out a slow breath, watching him go.

No food. No deal. And now? A risk.

He had misjudged.

Words alone weren't enough.

People didn't give because you asked. They didn't betray their own for nothing.

The hunger was a dull ache now, settled deep in Kain's ribs. It wasn't unbearable—not yet—but it was a reminder.

A reminder that he'd failed.

The young guard had walked away, and with him, Kain's first chance to control something in this hellhole.

Now he sat near the bars of the cage, arms resting on his knees, staring at nothing but the flickering firelight. He should have known better. He should have seen it coming.

"I could hear you failing from across the camp."

Kain didn't flinch.

Alric crouched beside him, tossing a small strip of dried fruit into his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring it.

"Must've been rough. Walking up there, thinking you were clever, just to get swatted away like a damn gnat."

Kain clenched his jaw, but he said nothing.

Alric chuckled. "I'll give you this, at least you tried. Stupid, but bold."

"But what did you expect?" Alric asked casually, plucking another piece of fruit from his sleeve.

Kain finally looked at him, expression tight.

"What?"

"What did you expect to happen?" Alric repeated, tilting his head. "That you'd walk up, ask nicely, and he'd just hand you food? Out of pity? Fear? Respect?"

Kain exhaled sharply through his nose. "I thought he was weak."

Alric smirked. "Ah. And you thought that meant he was easy to use?"

Kain didn't answer.

Alric shook his head. "That's your mistake."

He gestured toward the scattered men around the camp.

"Weak men don't make decisions, kid. Weak men are scared. And scared men cling to power, any power they have. That guard?" He laughed under his breath. "You tried to pull him away from Garik's grip, but Garik's the only thing keeping him safe. The moment you asked, you made him choose."

His smirk faded, voice lowering slightly.

"And you gave him nothing to choose you for."

Kain let the words settle.

He had walked in thinking the guard was isolated, alone. But that wasn't true.

Even the weakest dogs still followed the pack.

If he wanted to make someone move, he needed something stronger than words.

"So what should I have done?"

Alric smiled.

Alric leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"You want to control people? Figure out what they fear."

He tossed another piece of fruit into his mouth.

Torik sat near the bar and Kain could see it.

He was weaker. Too many days without food.

The bruises from Garik's fists were still fresh, dark smudges over his skin. His body could take it, but his men?

They weren't warriors like him. They were starting to crack.

"Good morning, boys."

Garik's voice carried through the camp as he approached, flanked by two of his men.

He moved slowly, letting the tension settle before speaking again.

"I was thinking, maybe I've been too generous with you lot. Letting you sit here, waiting for someone to come save you."

He smirked. "Maybe it's time to see what loyalty is really worth."

Two of Garik's men grabbed a prisoner at random.

A younger man, one of Torik's followers. His face paled as they dragged him forward.

"I'll make this simple." Garik crouched in front of the cage, eyes locked on Torik.

"You eat today." He gestured lazily toward a small piece of bread held by one of his men.

"All you have to do is tell me who in this cage isn't worth keeping."

Silence.

The prisoner froze, shaking.

Kain felt his own breath slow.

Garik wasn't asking for much. Just a name. A single word. That's how it started.

One betrayal.

Then another.

And another.

Until no one trusted anyone anymore.

Until Torik's men weren't his men anymore.

Kain knew Torik wouldn't speak. But the prisoners?

They were hungry.

And hungry men made desperate choices.

Garik leaned forward, still watching Torik. "Go on, then. Pick a name."

Torik didn't move. Didn't blink.

But Kain could see the strain in him now.

Not because he was tempted. Because he knew what came next.

One of the prisoners shifted.

A man in his forties. Gaunt, exhausted, eyes filled with something dark.

"Torik…" His voice was hoarse, hesitant. But it was there.

The man swallowed. His hands trembled.

"We're starving."

Kain felt every part of the moment.

The shifting weight of bodies in the cage.

The eyes darting between each other.

The growing fear. The growing doubt.

This was how it happened.

Garik was breaking his command.

And if Torik lost control?

Garik wouldn't need to kill him.

His own men would do it for him.

The prisoner who spoke, a weary man in his forties, kept his eyes down, his hands trembling in the dirt.

The silence stretched. Heavy. Tense.

Garik smirked, leaning in slightly.

"Go on, then." His voice was almost gentle. Mocking. Enjoying the unraveling. "Pick someone."

The man swallowed hard. His throat bobbed.

Someone else shifted beside him. The weight of hunger, of desperation, was pressing down on all of them.

This was it.

The moment Garik had been waiting for.

And then—

Torik laughed.

"Pick someone?" Torik repeated, shaking his head slightly. "If you're that desperate, just say your own name."

The prisoner froze.

Garik's smirk faltered just slightly.

"That's how this works, doesn't it?" Torik continued, voice steady. "We're starving. We're weak. Someone's gotta go."

His eyes flicked up, locking onto the man who had spoken.

"If that's true, if you really believe it, then you might as well offer yourself up. Because if you think I'm choosing for you, you've already lost."

Silence.

Not a breath moved in the cage.

Kain felt it, the shift.

Garik had expected doubt to take root. He had expected Torik to snap, to get angry, to lose control.

Instead, Torik had turned it back on them.

Made them see it for what it was.

And just like that, the prisoner who had spoken lowered his head.

Defeated.

A slow chuckle rumbled from Garik's chest.

"That's cute," he muttered, shaking his head. "Really. But we'll see how long that strength lasts."

He stood up, dusting off his hands.

"Enjoy your hunger, boys. I'll be back tomorrow."

Then he walked off, leaving the tension sitting in the air.

Kain sat still.

The hunger was still there. The pain still pulsed through his ribs. But it wasn't what filled his mind.

He replayed Torik's words, his tone, his presence.

"Pick someone? If you're that desperate, just say your own name."

The cage was silent now. The prisoners hadn't turned on him.

They were still hungry. Still weak.

But for now, they were still his.

Kain exhaled slowly.

Would I have done the same?

"Starting to see what real power looks like, aren't you?"

Kain didn't turn at the voice.

He already knew who it was.

Alric crouched beside him, pulling a small strip of dried meat from his sleeve and biting into it.

"A well-placed word does more than a sword," Alric said, chewing lazily. "A lesson most men never learn."

Kain kept his eyes forward. Thinking.

Kain finally glanced at him. Alric's smirk was gone. His expression was unreadable.

"That worked today." He flicked his chin toward Torik. "But what happens when they're really starving?"

Kain frowned slightly.

"They already are."

Alric let out a quiet chuckle. "No. Not yet."

He gestured at the cage. "They're still waiting for an answer. Waiting for someone to fix it. They still believe Torik can keep them together."

Then he leaned in slightly. His next words were softer.

"What happens when that belief runs out?"

Kain didn't answer.

Because he didn't know.

He had seen what Torik had done. He had felt the moment shift. It had worked.

But was Alric right?

Was it just a temporary win?

Kain clenched his jaw.

"You think they'll turn on him."

Alric shrugged. "Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow."

He took another slow bite of his meat.

"But soon."