The Silent Deal (The Card Game #1)

Ch 1 - The Prisoner

Don't be a coward after you've come this far, Viktor told himself, scanning down the border. He needed a means of getting in, but lying wouldn't work. When he lied, his old stutter came back, which shamed him as much as the lie itself. A much simpler solution popped into his head. Taking out a kopek, he silently swore to eat only half portions this week. This was his family's money, and he wouldn't make them suffer for his foolishness. But going hungry was worth being able to say he'd snuck into a Town Square meeting.

A dull-looking guard at the corner of the Square's perimeter was doing more storm watching than crowd watching. There were guards on either side of the man, but one was dealing with a drunken beggar, and the other was engaged in a conversation with a merchant. Moving closer to the unbothered guard, Viktor took one last remorseful glance at the kopek. Then he flicked it forward into the air. It landed with a clink, and the guard watched it roll a few meters forward. His greedy eyes turned larger than kopeks as he glanced both ways at his occupied comrades. With a gulp, the guard broke the most basic rules of his training and scuttled over to grab the coin.

It was all Viktor needed. He slipped past the perimeter without the slightest hiccup. He was young, but already he knew what men were distracted by. The Square was so packed that none of the adults seemed to notice Viktor. He was able to squeeze through small gaps and find a spot with a good view of the stage. Around him, people were busy whispering to one another. Conversations died off as a large man in decorative military dress strode across the stage. The heavy gray uniform could not hide the man's muscles, and a thick black-brown beard only made him look stronger. Behind him, a long line of guards stood motionless against the backdrop of a gloomy sky.

A short man next to Viktor nudged his friend. "I told you, that's him—Captain Ulfrik. See his epaulettes?" he hissed, gesturing at the metal ornaments on his shoulder. "Molotov's made him head guard."

Everything about the officer was polished—from his gold shoulder tassels to his black leather boots. His gloved hand held a thick leash, and when Viktor saw the creature it attached to, his heart leapt into his throat. The beast was ferocious. Its head was gigantic, its chest as big as a barrel. As if it needed more volume, the great animal was shielded in thick black-and-tan fur and had a bushy curled tail.

"Is that a dog?" Viktor murmured to himself.

"Caucasian mountain dog," answered the short man to his side. "The captain calls it Major Canis. Why the blast would he give his dog a higher rank than himself?"

"I don't know ..." Viktor muttered, glancing at the man who was obviously fond of gossip.

Enjoying the attention, the man continued. "Wicked dogs, those. They'll never stop a charge once they start. I hear the brutes guard the worst prisons in Russia. The captain imported his when it was just a pup—all the way from Armenia. Armenia ... Can you imagine such a distance?"

"Not really," Viktor answered, having absolutely no idea where Armenia was.

The trader shot him a skeptical look and did a double take. "Hey, what are you doing here anyway? You're too young to be here. Who let you in?"

"Oh, I'm meeting my father," Viktor said, slipping away.

He didn't hear anyone trying to follow him, and Captain Ulfrik had begun to speak, which diverted everyone's attention. He safely found a new spot where he could watch the stage.

"'GOD IS FAR UP HIGH, THE TSAR IS FAR AWAY!'" boomed Captain Ulfrik's deep voice. "Isn't that how the saying goes?"

The crowd was silent.

Ordering Major Canis to stay put, Captain Ulfrik paced slowly across the front edge of the stage. "Here we are again, and I cannot say I am surprised. Some people will never learn. If it is written, it is not read. If it is read, it is not understood. And if it is understood, then in the wrong way. THERE IS NO LAW FOR FOOLS!"