“Heya!” he whispered, shutting his eyes at once. “Pinch that out, you fool! We don’t want anyone to know we’re awake.”

With a hiss, the light vanished. Eliar bumbled up against him and, with a stifled oath, took a step back so they weren’t touching.

“Sheh!” Kesh opened his eyes. Nothing stirred in the courtyard. If anyone had seen that flare of light within the room, they weren’t acting on it. “The whole point is to stay hidden, so no one knows we’re awake. That’s the best way to protect ourselves. So we can get back to the Hundred alive.”

“And fulfill our mission!”

“Say it a bit louder, perhaps. That will help us, neh? If everyone figures out we’re spies?”

He stuck his head out a bit farther. A pair of figures slipped through the shadows, moving toward the gate. He ducked back inside.

“Listen, Eliar, you stay here with your cursed sword or whatever it is you think you can fight with, and make sure no one gets into the back room and goes after our trade goods. I’m going to the gate to see if there’s any news from the guards.”

“Why can’t I go?”

“You, who lit a lamp in such circumstances?”

“No need to constantly criticize me—”

Keshad bit at his own lip to keep his mouth shut on another carping comment. Aui! No matter how much he disliked Eliar, he had to make this expedition work or he’d never get what he wanted. And to get what he wanted, he had to stay on Eliar’s good side.

“No, you’re right. I beg your pardon. It’s hateful to be stuck in this cursed compound day and night.”

Eliar grunted in acknowledgment of an apology Kesh knew was gracelessly delivered. “The guards won’t tell us anything anyway. They never tell us a cursed thing.”

“They may talk to me because I worship at the Beltak temple.”

Thankfully, that shut Eliar up.

Keshad sheathed his sword and slung the sword belt over his back. He eased into the courtyard and padded cautiously to the doubled wall that funneled traffic to the double gates, locked and barred for the night. Indeed, they had been locked and barred for eight days, since the night when trumpets and horns had disturbed the peace and all the markets had been closed. He counted eight figures huddled by the gates, muttering to each other as one of their number lit a lamp and raised it.

By its light, the other merchants recognized him.

“Is that you, Master Keshad? Maybe you can get these cursed guards to talk to you, since they favor you so much.”

The other Hundred merchants didn’t like him any better than he liked them. They thought him a traitor for abandoning the gods of his birth for the empire’s god, but what did it matter to them what god he chose to worship or what benefit that worship brought him? There were a pair of outlanders as well, a man out of the Mariha princedoms and one from the western desert who had slaves languishing in the slave pens he hadn’t seen for days. For that matter, the drivers and guardsmen he and Eliar had hired in Olossi were confined in a different housing establishment altogether, and he’d had no contact with them since the citywide curfew was imposed.