He ran to the forecourt. The guards had abandoned the two small watch platforms that flanked the gates. The wall walk Eliar had spoken of must run off in either direction, and obviously access to the platforms and the walk came from inside the guardhouse. Which was now being fought over.

About ten merchants came running, all with weapons, some bearing rags or cloth, one dragging a thin pallet. Two carried lamps. Eliar ran up in their wake with three leather bottles.

“Anyone else understand them?” Kesh shouted to be heard above the screaming pack of men beyond the gate.

“They want our blood, like it’s our fault their cursed emperor got himself killt in battle. Gods-rotted out-landers!”

Other men, experienced traders, nodded. Muffled crashes and shouts came from the guardhouse. Someone was taking a beating.

“We’re getting me and one other volunteer up there.” Keshad indicated the platforms. “We’ll splash oil of naya over the crowd, and then light rags and such and throw them down on top. That should drive them away.”

“Heh. Just like the battle over Olossi,” said one older man.

“I’ll go up,” said Eliar immediately.

“All right then.” Kesh took the vessels from him and as he fastened them on his back, he called the other merchants closer. “Those who can truly fight, brace yourself. Form up around the door. That’s a bottleneck. Cut down the attackers as they come out of the door. One of you go back and roust out the cowards. We need everyone. The rest of you, Eliar will need flint or some such, anything that will give him flame immediately. I need a lift up.”

A man laced his fingers together and, when Kesh set a foot into the makeshift stirrup, raised him up so he could throw rope around one of the poles making the scaffolding of the platform; he clambered up and crouched on the platform as Eliar was helped up on the other side. The mob below hadn’t yet spotted them. Men surged and pushed by the guardhouse door. It seemed men were pushing inside only to be cut down by the armed guardsmen. But the mob was growing, howling and barking like animals, or so it seemed to his ears because he could understand so little of what came out of their mouths. Working men who had, Kesh supposed, filled up with fear and now had to take it out on someone else, they were variously armed with torches, sticks, tools, and other such humble implements. None seemed to have bows. He licked his lips, tasted smoke. Elsewhere in the market district, several compounds were burning. The inner city remained dark. Only out here had the city’s governor withdrawn his protection.

“I’m up,” said Eliar in a low voice from across the gate. The top of the twinned gates were broad enough to walk across if you didn’t mind the height. Eliar hauled a basket up behind him and knelt beside it. He snapped flint to steel. Sparks flew. Below, with the mob, a face looked up. Down along the street about ten men came running carrying ladders. Eiya! They were ready to storm the compound and kill them all!