‘You all right?’ he gasped.
‘I think so.’
A man in a watchman’s jerkin, carrying a staff, bustled over to us. His face was alive with fury. ‘What have you done to set the house on fire like that?’ he shouted. ‘Wizards!’
‘We didn’t do it,’ Barak croaked. ‘Fetch a physician - there’s a woman hurt here.’
The man looked at Bathsheba, his eyes widening as he saw the blood covering her. I shook my head, the tumult of shouts and running feet seemed to have taken on a strangely distant, echoing sound.
‘What have you done?’ the watchman breathed again.
‘It was Dark Fire,’ I said. ‘The rats knew.’
Then the noise of the fire and the shouting faded away, and I blacked out.
Chapter Thirty-two
I REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS slowly, as though swimming up from a dark lake. When I opened my eyes I thought for an awful moment I was blind. Then my eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness and I realized I was in an unlit room, at night. There was an open window to one side of the truckle bed I lay on, just visible as a slightly lighter square through which a hot breeze sighed.
I could not remember what had happened or where I was. I tried to sit up to see more of my surroundings but my body was seized with pain and I lay down again with a groan. My back was agony and I had a smarting pain in my left forearm. I realized I was thirsty, a terrible dry thirst; when I swallowed it was like gulping down thorns.
I became aware of a smell. Burning. Fire, I thought, and everything that had happened at Wolf’s Lane flew back into my mind. I tried to sit up again and shout, but the effort was too much and I nearly passed out. For a few seconds I lay there in terror. Had the fire spread to wherever it was I had been taken? Then I lifted my right arm to my nose. The smell of smoke was coming from my shirt. I lay back, breathing heavily and painfully. I must gather my strength, then try to call out for water, find out where I was. The thought came that I had been arrested for starting the fire, put in prison. Where were Barak and poor Bathsheba ? That awful tableau of the girl leaning over her dead brother, the pair of them boltered in blood, returned and I let out a harsh dry sob.
There was an unexpected sound from the window, a soft chirruping. Other birds joined in and as I lay there the sky began to lighten, turning from dark blue to greyish white. I made out the steep outlines of roofs and realized I was on the upper floor of a house somewhere. The sun appeared, at first a little dark-red orb but very soon, as the mist burned away, a fierce yellow ball.
As the light grew I studied the room I was in. It was sparsely furnished: just the bed I was lying on, a chest and on the wall a big cross, Christ hanging with agonized face and gaping wounds. I stared at it in puzzlement for a moment, then I remembered; it was Guy’s old Spanish cross, I was at Guy’s.
I lay back with a sense of relief. I must have slept again, for when next I stirred and looked around the sun was high, the room hot. My thirst was unbearable now. I tried to call out but could manage only a croak. I leaned over, wincing at a sharp pain from my left arm, and banged on the floor.
To my relief I heard movement downstairs, then footsteps. Guy came in, carrying a large flagon and a cup. His face was drawn with anxiety and lack of sleep.
‘Wa—water,’ I croaked.
He sat on the bed and lifted my head to the cup. ‘Do not gulp it,’ he said. ‘You will want to, but you must take small sips or you will be sick.’ I nodded, letting him trickle water slowly into my mouth. My throat seemed to sing with relief as it passed down. He sat with me thus for several minutes, letting me drink slowly. At length I lay back, noticing that my arm was bandaged.
‘What happened?’ I whispered.
‘You were brought here insensible last night, on a cart with that man Barak and the girl Bathsheba. You are suffering from the effects of smoke and you have a burn on your arm.’ He looked at me seriously. ‘The fire has caused much damage. Two streets at Queenhithe were quite burned down. Thank the Lord they were so close to the river - they were able to draw water from there.’
‘Is anyone hurt?’
‘I do not know. Your friend Barak has gone to rouse Lord Cromwell, he says he will need to deal with this. Barak was affected by the smoke too. I told him he should not go out but he insisted.’
‘Bathsheba,’ I said. ‘The girl, how is she?’
Guy’s face darkened. ‘She has been stabbed in the stomach, there is little I can do. I have given her some drugs to ease her pain and she is sleeping. But it is only a matter of time. Who did that to her, Matthew?’
‘The same villain who set fire to the house and left me and Barak to burn to death. There were two more bodies there, the girl’s brother and the watchman.’
‘Dear Christ.’ Guy crossed himself.
‘Barak is right: Cromwell’s intervention will be needed here or there will be a great hue and cry.’ I closed my eyes. ‘Dear God, is this to be Scarnsea again, a host of innocent people torn from the world in blood and violence?’
Guy continued to look at me, sternly but also doubtfully, in a way he never had before.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘I went out to buy some things I needed while you were sleeping. There are rumours abroad that the fire was started by supernatural means, that there is magic involved. Apparently it was not a normal fire, it roared up suddenly and consumed the ground floor of the house in a moment.’
‘It did,’ I said. ‘I was there. But there is no magic, Guy, I promise you. Did you think I could ever become involved in the dark arts?’
‘No, but—’
‘No forbidden knowledge, I swear. An ancient way of making fire rediscovered, that is all. It is what I have been working on for Cromwell. I could not tell you.’
He continued to look at me questioningly. ‘I see. Your friend distrusts me. Perhaps you did too, if this matter affects Cromwell whom, yes, I see as an enemy. I wondered why you would not tell me more.’
‘I don’t distrust you, Guy. God’s wounds, I think you’re the only one left I do trust.’
Guy looked at the cross. ‘There is the only one you need to trust and follow.’
I shook my head sadly. ‘Where was Christ when that poor girl and her brother were being cut to pieces last night?’
‘Watching, in the sorrow you see there in his face, as men used the free will God gave them to do terrible evil.’ He sighed. ‘Here, take this flagon. Keep taking water but remember, drink slowly.’
WHEN BARAK RETURNED an hour later, Guy brought him to my room and left us together. Barak’s eyes were red and smarting and his voice was a strangled croak. His shirt was smoke-stained and the hair on the right side of his head was quite singed away, leaving only stubble. The contrast with the untidy brown locks on the other side was so bizarre I could not help letting out a bark of nervous laughter. He grunted.
‘You should see your own face, it’s black as soot. And Lord Cromwell’s not laughing. He’s going to have to put pressure on the mayor and coroner to keep this quiet. The people down at Queenhithe found what was left of George Green’s body and the watchman’s, little more than charred sticks, and they’re talking about magic. You know there’s two streets gone? It’s lucky there was no wind or the fire could have spread across the City.’
‘Was anyone else hurt?’
‘A few have burns and plenty more are homeless. The Gristwoods’ house is a pile of ashes. Goodwife Gristwood will have no home to come back to.’
‘No. Poor old creature.’ I paused. ‘Well, now I’ve seen it. That was Greek Fire, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, I recognized the smell as the fire started. Those bastards must have been waiting in the parlour till we were trapped upstairs. They must have coated the walls with the stuff, set light to it, then got out the window.’ He sat down on the bed. ‘Jesu, the terror when I saw it. It was just like at the wharf, the whole place alive with red fire in a second. The same thick black smoke.’ He frowned. ‘
Why try to kill us in that way? They could have surprised us and struck us down as they did Bathsheba and her brother.’
‘To show Lord Cromwell they had Greek Fire.’
‘That they could make and use it at will.’
‘Yes. That was what they wanted him to think.’ I looked at him again. ‘Thank you, Barak. I would not have got out of that house without you. For a moment there I could not move from fear.’
‘I know.’ He grinned. ‘I thought I might have to kick your arse downstairs.’
‘How did you get us here?’
‘I grabbed a horse and cart that had been used to bring water and got you and the girl on it, God knows how. I was afraid we’d be arrested or slain on the spot. I couldn’t think where to go, then I remembered your apothecary lived nearby. It was only a few minutes’ drive.’
I nodded. His quick thinking had saved us from arrest. He stood smiling, pleased with his success.
‘How is the girl?’ he asked.
‘Like to die, Guy said. Are you all right?’
He fingered his talisman, then winced suddenly. ‘I got burned on the shoulder as I went through the front door.’
There was a knock and Guy entered. He looked between us. ‘The girl is awake,’ he said quietly. ‘She wants to speak to you.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I don’t think she can last long.’
‘Can you get up?’ Barak asked me. I nodded and rose painfully from the bed, coughing again. Every muscle seemed to howl in protest.
Guy led us into a little room where Bathsheba lay on a bed, her eyes closed. Her breathing was shallow and she was deathly pale, the colour leached from her face. The whiteness of her skin contrasted with the vivid red spots on the bandage swathing her lower body. Guy had washed her face but her hair was still matted with blood. For a moment I felt giddy.
‘I’ve given her something to ease the pain,’ Guy said. ‘She is very sleepy.’ He touched Bathsheba gently on the shoulder and her eyes flickered open.
‘Mistress Green, I have brought them as you asked.’
Bathsheba stared at us. She said something, her voice so faint I could not hear. I took a stool and sat beside her. She turned painfully and looked at me.
‘They would have killed you too,’ she whispered.
‘Yes, they would.’
‘I was going to tell you everything and throw myself on Lord Cromwell’s mercy. But they were waiting for us, poor George and me. They rushed in at us, lashing with their swords. That man with the scarred face, he struck me in the stomach.’ She shuddered. ‘They left us for dead, said they would give the hunchback lawyer a spectacular death when he arrived.’ She leaned back, exhausted with the effort of speaking.
‘How did they know you were there?’ I asked gently.
‘It must have been Madam Neller, she must have told them. She’d do anything for gold.’
‘She will pay for that.’
She winced with pain, then turned again to me and spoke rapidly. ‘I want to tell you what Michael said to me. If it will help you find them.’
I tried to smile. ‘Go on. You are safe now.’
‘Those last weeks before he was killed Michael was afraid, terrified. He said he was involved in a scheme, something he and his brother thought could make them rich. It involved some papers he had at his house. He said he was afraid for their safety.’
‘Madam Neller said your brother had been searching there.’
‘Yes.’ She winced with pain. ‘He thought if he could find them, perhaps Lord Cromwell would help us. But they’ll all be burned to cinders now.’
‘I already have the papers, Bathsheba. Except for one that is missing. A formula. Did Michael say anything about that?’
‘No. Only that he feared the people they were working with. He feared they would be killed. They were working to bring down Lord Cromwell.’
‘But - but I thought he was working with Cromwell. He had something the earl wanted badly.’
‘No. No, the scheme was against the earl.’
I stared at her. It made no sense. She coughed again, and a little watery fluid dribbled down her chin. She winced, then looked at me again. ‘We were going to have a child. Michael talked of us escaping the country with his brother, going to Scotland or France and starting afresh. But then he was killed. That man last night, he killed my baby when he stabbed me.’
I reached out and took her hand. It was as light and thin as a bird’s foot. ‘I am sorry.’
‘What do our lives matter?’ she asked bitterly. ‘What are any of us but pawns in the schemes of the great?’ She shook her head in despair, then coughed again and closed her eyes. Guy stepped forward and took her other hand gently.
‘Bathsheba,’ he said quietly. ‘I fear you are like to die. I am an ordained priest. Will you repent of your sins, acknowledge Christ as your Saviour?’
She did not reply. Guy pressed her hand harder. ‘Bathsheba. You are about to face your Maker. Will you acknowledge Him?’
Barak leaned forward, put a finger to the pulse in the girl’s neck. ‘She’s gone,’ he said quietly.
Guy knelt by the bed and began praying softly in Latin.
‘What good’s that going to do?’ Barak asked harshly. I rose and took his arm, leading him from the room. We returned to my chamber and I sat back on the bed, exhausted.
‘Poor bitch,’ Barak said. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect to the Moor.’ He ran a hand through what was left of his hair. ‘What in heaven’s name did she mean, Michael was involved in a plot against Lord Cromwell?’
‘I don’t know. All this time we’ve assumed the person who took the formula stole it for reasons of profit, perhaps to sell to a foreign power.’
‘Ay. But you’ve doubted whether there was a formula at all.’
‘Yes. I wondered if the whole thing could have been a fraud on Cromwell, but that something went wrong and the rogues fell out.’
‘But we know Greek Fire is real.’
I clenched my fists. ‘There are still things that don’t add up. Toky’s involvement from the beginning, investigating that Polish stuff months before the Gristwoods went to Cromwell. Why the delay? And there are other things—’
I broke off as Guy entered, carrying a bowl of water and some cloths. There was an awkward silence for a moment. ‘I must dress your arm, Matthew,’ he said. ‘You should rest here at least a day before you go abroad again.’
I remembered Marchamount and Bealknap. ‘I can’t.’ We had lost half a day, there were only five days left now. ‘I must go to Lincoln’s Inn.’
He shook his head. ‘You will make yourself ill.’
I sat up painfully. ‘Will you dress my arm? Then I must go.’
‘I’ve a burn on my shoulder,’ Barak said. ‘It stings horribly. Could you look at that too?’
Guy nodded. Barak took off his shirt, revealing a muscular torso boasting a number of scars from old knife thrusts. One shoulder was red and raw, the skin peeling. As Guy examined it he noticed the golden symbol hanging from its chain.
‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘It’s called a mezzah. An old Jewish symbol. You were right before when you said my name was Jewish.’
Guy nodded. ‘Mezuzah is the full name. The Jews used to fix them on their doors with a scroll from the Torah inside. To welcome visitors. I remember them from my boyhood in Granada.’
Barak looked impressed. ‘All these years I’ve wondered what it was for. You are a knowledgeable man, apothecary. Ah, that stings!’
Guy dressed his burn, coating it with a harsh-smelling oil, then sent him back to his room while he dressed my arm. I winced as he lifted my sleeve to expose the livid red mark, the puckered skin. He applied some of his oil and I felt the smarting ease a little.
‘What is that stuff?’
‘Oil of lavender. It has cold and wet properties, it draws the dry heat from the fire that has stung your flesh.’
‘I remember you using it on the young founder
who burned himself.’ I looked at him seriously. ‘There is a fire I think no amount of lavender could quench. Guy, I was going to talk to you anyway, ask you some questions about the matter that has caused all this death and ruin. It involves alchemy, as I told you, and there are aspects that have me sore puzzled. I would tell you all, if you will listen.’
‘Is it safe for me to know?’
‘If you keep it close, there should be no danger from those that pursue us. But I will not tell you if you would rather not know.’
‘Cromwell would not be pleased, I think. I note you have waited till friend Barak was gone.’
‘I’ll take the risk if you will.’
‘Very well.’
As he bound my arm with a strip of cloth, I told him all I knew of Greek Fire, from Cromwell’s first summons to the fire last night. As he listened his face grew more troubled.
‘Your aim is to catch these killers?’ he asked.
‘Yes. They have killed five people now. The Gristwood brothers, Bathsheba and her brother, and the watchman. A founder called Leighton is probably dead too.’
‘I remember you were asking about founders.’
‘Yes. I think we were too late to save him. And there are three more people kept in hiding for fear of these monstrous rogues. I want to catch them, stop them cutting this swathe through London.’
‘And to recover the formula for Greek Fire for Cromwell?’
I hesitated. ‘Yes.’
‘Have you considered the havoc such a weapon may wreak? It could burn whole navies. It could be used to fire a city, as we saw last night.’