Chapter 31 · The White Gate Trap

"Scouts just came back." Virrak dropped the report on the table between us. "White Gate's shut. Supply convoy turned around two hours ago."

I didn't look up from the map. The red arrows were still there, still pointing at my camp like accusation marks. "How many men at the gate?"

"Fifty visible. Could be twice that inside the walls." He leaned closer, squinting at the parchment. "What's that map doing?"

The lines were moving again. Rivers bending. Mountain passes narrowing. All of them funneling toward the same spot—the granary district just inside White Gate's main entrance.

"Showing me where to hit," I said.

"That's a death trap. The granary backs onto the inner wall. One way in, no way out." Virrak's hand came down flat on the table. "We're not walking into that."

"We are." I traced the route with one finger. The map pulsed under my touch, warm like living skin. "Because they want us to think it's a trap."

"It *is* a trap."

"Then we spring it." I rolled up the parchment before he could argue. "Get the men ready. We move at dawn."

Virrak caught my wrist. His grip was careful, but his voice wasn't.