The Magic Trick (The Card Game #2)

Ch 27 - The Master of the White Fortress

CHAPTER XXVII

THE MASTER OF THE WHITE FORTRESS

"Well, everyone take a mask," said Roksana, pulling Gypsy scarves from her purse. "Among so many we should go unnoticed, but we can't risk being spotted by the Seven. Who knows what'll happen with the Apprenticeship after this."

Viktor gratefully selected a white scarf and tied it over his mouth and nose, mirroring everyone but his blood brother.

"You keep it," Romulus said. "Sadly, I think my anonymous days in this town have come to an end. Either way, he'll know it was me."

Roksana shifted, looking as nervous for Romulus as Viktor himself felt. Nevertheless, she twisted her hair into a messy bun, tied her scarf, and spoke in a muffled voice. "It's time."

Viktor looked up and was alarmed to see the Gypsy soldiers running along the edge of the forest on foot. "What about the horses?"

"Too loud," said Romulus, "and we can't maneuver them inside."

Arseni grinned. "Don't worry, Viktor. Star-flank was Romani-trained—they all were. If we need them, we'll call."

The stealthy line of Gypsy soldiers, mixed youths, and a single gray-white wolf ran along the darkened tree line. Traveling north to where Aryk's river passed through the forest, the party then cut across the open field and made for the backside of Staryi Castle. There was no turning back.

As they curled around the white fortress, Viktor hugged the outer walls, hoping that the corner turrets above bowed out enough to conceal their presence. He half-expected to hear a guard cry out and raise an alarm, but no, all seemed peaceful under the moon and stars.

Boldly enough, the side servant gate had been left open and unmanned. Eiruss, however, had already given orders to pass it by in favor of the main gate. Cramped quarters could prove disastrous, especially with the Xaladikta Roma's open fighting style, and if guards were waiting in either direction, Viktor knew it would be unwise to split their force too early. Thus, the silent run continued up to the castle's gleaming iron jaws, which stretched open, eager to devour any who entered.

"Shandor, what do you see?" hissed Eiruss.

Viktor saw the wiry man twist one of his pistols out of a holster. He pointed it between the bars of the gate and slowly shifted to look beyond. "The courtyard is vacant ... the main keep doors agape."

Eiruss turned back to her people. "Penetrate the interior and then disperse with the youths and fight. Guard them on their dungeons path, but beware of dead ends. Many of our number may fall."

"More riches and glory to those who don't," Besnik rasped as he unsheathed his great broadsword.

There was soft, edgy laughter as the many soldiers followed their captain's lead. The sister archers Drina and Mirela strung their bows, Shandor cocked back his flintlock pistol, and Eiruss unsheathed her long, slim sword. Viktor suddenly felt naked, so he rummaged in his satchel and pulled out the first invention his fingers touched: The Orange Split smiled back at him under the moonlight. For a brief spell, he was flooded with old memories.

Eiruss' voice shattered his thoughts: "Lastly, leave me the pale man called Lieutenant Vyrhus. If you want your fair share of my treasure, do not slay him while I yet live."

Viktor was again perplexed by the Gypsy King's grudge, but there was no time to dwell on it—suddenly they were moving! He stowed the Orange Split in his coat pocket for quick access, and then crept past the gate.