Dark Fire

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?’

C. J. Sansom's books