I hid a grin. Nothing distracted Rowan like the arrival of an unknown animal. No doubt by tomorrow morning, he’d have these two mammoth horses eating out of his hands just like every other creature on the property.
“Is he another merchant, by any chance?” I asked. “Selling oil, perhaps?” I eyed the rows of large leather jars in the back of the wagon.
“Something like that,” Rowan said, clearly not really listening.
I turned to watch the other servants, but no one seemed in need of assistance. The feeling of fear from earlier had abated, but it hadn’t entirely disappeared. In the current environment, anything unknown seemed suspect.
Idly, while I debated the matter in my mind, wondering what action I should take, I counted the jars.
Thirty-eight.
My stomach clenched, and I counted again. Definitely thirty-eight. It was an oddly specific number—not round, like I would have expected, and it left the rows in the back of the wagon uneven.
“A new friend, did you say?” I asked Rowan in a tight voice, remembering the story Davis had fed Samir. “But also an old one. Perhaps he’s one of Kasim’s associates, but new to Ali.”
Rowan looked up, briefly distracted from the horse. “Yes, now that you say it, that sounds right.”
I nodded, feigning a calm I didn’t feel. “Where is our visitor now?”
“Eating with Ali and Mariam, I believe.” He gave a last pat to the horse by our side and walked around to its pair.
I abandoned Rowan, hurrying toward the house. A small part of me hoped the merchant would be a stranger, and the number of jars a coincidence, but after my run in with the thieves at dawn, I didn’t dare trust such a thought.
Some of the other servants gave me odd looks, but I ignored them, making straight for the smaller dining room where Nyla and Kasim entertained when they had only one or two guests. When I reached it, I found one of the serving girls about to enter with a platter from the kitchen.
Whisking it from her hands without giving her a chance to protest, I walked into the room in her place. The server in front of me stood just behind each guest, offering the platter from their right side without intruding on the table conversation.
I did the same, keeping my head tilted down and looking at the guest out of the corner of my eye. Navid had apparently still not returned, so there were only three around the table.
Ali, Mariam—and Esai, just as I had feared. I moved around the rest of the table with paranoid care, not wanting to put a foot wrong and call attention to myself. Esai never looked my way, however, his focus on charming his hosts. Hearing him laughing and complimenting Ali made my stomach churn, but the thought of all those jars inside the walls kept me from blurting out his real identity. Esai wasn’t the biggest threat—his men were.
It was hard to stay silent when I heard Ali refer to him as Esai, however. What effrontery to not even bother with a false name.
As soon as I was safely back out of the room, I dumped the empty platter in the corridor and hurried back to the courtyard. I slowed my steps as I reached it, however. All the bags and crates had now been carried inside, and only Rowan remained with the horses. If those jars had ears, as I suspected, I didn’t want them hearing anything that sounded amiss.
I arrived just as Rowan finished getting to know the second horse and finally reached for the halter straps.
“Hold on,” I called, making my voice as cheerful as I could manage.
He paused, looking toward me in surprise.
“You need to move the wagon before you unhitch them. They want it around the back after all.”
He opened his mouth—presumably to point out that there wasn’t room for a wagon that large anywhere but the front courtyard—but I gave him my most deadly glare, drawing my finger across my neck menacingly for emphasis.
My efforts only appeared to confuse him, but at least he closed his mouth again, eventually saying a plain, “Ah.”
Miming for him to stay silent and to move away from the horses, I tiptoed close and put my mouth against his ear.
“No time to explain,” I whispered at the lowest possible volume. “But we’re all in terrible danger. I need you to open the gate without saying a word.”
I wanted them to think it was Rowan at the reins—a much less suspicious option than a young girl suddenly commandeering the wagon. Rowan regarded me with concern, and I gave him a pleading look. When he finally gave a small, silent nod, I leaned in to give one further warning.
“Watch out for the guest. He might try to run. Get our guards to stop him, if he does!”
Rowan’s eyes widened, his look of concern deepening, but he stepped toward the gates, and I sent him a grateful smile.
Scrambling onto the bench at the front of the wagon, I took up the reins. This was the part that made me most nervous, but they settled into my hands with reassuring familiarity.