CHAPTER VIIIThe Called Bluff
Kerak’s quarrel,” Guillaume had said, “is with the Sorcerer King and the men about him. The common folk of the city know little about us and care less. You can go safely among them—or as safely as anyone may go who enters for a pilgrimage. That is not very safe, du Boyce. Go carefully.”
The man who looked out of the opened gate bore out Guillaume’s warning. He was a swarthy, small man with shifty eyes and a bandage around his head. He gave Boyce a look of indifferent dislike and said something in a tone of bored inquiry.
Boyce said, “Nain.”
The gatekeeper nodded and stood back. Boyce bent his head under the low archway and stepped into the street within.
It was a narrow street, walled by high, narrow houses. Colored lanterns hung here and there from upper
