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.’