‘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.