“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 Only out here had the city’s governor withdrawn his protection.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!

Keshad unsealed the first vessel as he rose. This was the dangerous part! He shook the vessel, oil spraying on the men crowded up below. Flame caught in a rag. Eliar flung it outward, but it fell to the ground and was stamped out at once by the mob. Men began to fling sticks and debris up at them. The first ladder was pushed up against the gate. Keshad emptied the first vessel on top of the men at the base of the ladder and tossed the vessel down; it shattered on the ground. He unsealed the second and ran out along the top of the gate, flinging oil out as far away as he could. Men cursed at him, wiping away the oil that splashed on their faces. Spreading it. A second flaming rag fluttered down, and a third—

And this time, fire touched oil on skin.