The first pitch jar broke against the south-store wall before Jace had even finished shoving the broad man from the shepherd track through the inner gate.
It struck hard enough to burst black across the stone in a wet, ugly spray, and the stink hit the yard before the flame did. A second jar smashed against the rain barrel by the steps and threw fire low over the wet pitch in a crawling sheet that reached for the store door and the lower passage together. For one stunned beat the whole south yard stopped around it. Men carrying the key chest checked hard and nearly lost their hold. One of the women with the birthing cloth bundles turned so fast the linen slipped against her forearms. The horse hitched near the cart screamed and pulled at the traces.
Then the arrows came.
