The roof above was making alarming sounds, creaks and groans, that told James the support timbers were weakening. Soon the upper floor would collapse on him and the children if he didn’t move. The smoke was making the children cough and James’s eyes were tearing to the point of being unable to see through the smoke. Taking in a lungful that caused him to cough, he shouted, “Jazhara! William!”
William’s booming voice answered from slightly to his left. “This way!”
James didn’t hesitate. He leapt forward, trying as well as he could to avoid the flames, but by the time he came spilling out the door with a child under each arm and one across his back, he was burned on both legs and arms. The children were crying from their burns, but they were alive. He collapsed onto the cobblestones, coughing.
Two women took charge of the burned and frightened children, while Jazhara knelt and examined James’s burns. “Not serious,” she judged.
James looked at her through watering eyes and said, “Easy for you to say. They hurt like the blazes!”
Jazhara took a small jar out of her belt pouch and said, “This will make them stop hurting until we can get you to a healer or priest.”
She applied a salve gently to the burns and, true to her words, the pain vanished. James said, “What is that?”
“It is made from a desert plant found in the Jal-Pur. My people use this salve on burns and cuts. It will keep wounds from festering for a while, enabling them to heal.”
James stood up and looked toward the gate. “He’s gotten awayr
William said, “I expect so. Look.” He pointed to the other side of the street where members of the city watch were moving citizens back from the fire so that a chain of men with buckets could start wetting down the nearby buildings. It was clear that the orphanage was doomed, but the rest of the quarter might be saved. William sounded defeated. “Those men are from the gate watch, so I suspect the murderer got out of the city just by walking through.”
Jazhara said, “What sort of monster would set fire to an orphanage to create a diversion?”
James said, “The same sort who would break into a jail at sunset.” He coughed one more time, then said, “Let’s go back and see if we can find out who he was after.” He started walking back toward the jail.
Soldiers from the palace had arrived to augment the surviving city guards at the jail. James had just learned that Sheriff Wilfred Means and all but six of his men had been killed. The sheriffs son, Jonathan, stood in the main room surveying the damage. James had recently recruited the young man to work secretly for him in the Prince’s burgeoning intelligence network. The squire put his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder and said, “I’m sorry for your loss. Your father and I were never what could be called friends, but I respected him as an honest man who was unstinting in his loyalty and duty.”
Jonathan looked pale and could only nod. Finally he controlled his emotions and said, “Thank you.”
James nodded. “For the time being, you and the other deputies report to Captain Garruth. Arutha will need time to name a new sheriff and you’ll be undermanned for a while.”
Jonathan said, “I need to go home if that’s all right. I must tell my mother.”
James said, “Yes, of course. Go to your mother,” and sent the young man on his way. Jonathan was an able man, despite his youth, but he doubted Arutha would willingly elevate him to his father’s office. Besides, having Jonathan tied to a desk wouldn’t help James’s plans. He put aside those thoughts and went looking for Garruth.
The captain was directing workers and soldiers as they started making repairs on the jail. “Didn’t catch him?” he said when he saw James and the others.
James held up one of his burned arms and said, “Bastard set fire to the orphanage as a diversion.”
Garruth shook his head. “That one is a mean piece of work.” He inclined his head to the stairs leading to the cell below. “You should take a look at what he did down there. I’d not want to be on this one’s bad side.”
James led the others down the steps to the lock-up. The jail was a holding area for minor criminals waiting to get justice from Arutha’s magistrates, or for prisoners waiting to be transferred to the palace dungeon or the prison work-gangs.
The jail comprised a large basement divided by bars and doors into eight cells - two large general holding pens, and six smaller cells used to isolate the more troublesome prisoners. At any hour of the day, drunks, petty thieves, and other troublemakers would be found locked up.
A city watchman saluted when he saw James and said, “It’s not pretty, Squire. Only one man left alive here, in that far cell.”