Marchamount gave me an apologetic smile. ‘This will be an unusual type of discourse for lawyers, I am afraid.’
I felt Barak tense beside me. His hands, untied, shot down to the floor. Balancing on them, he launched a high kick at Fletcher. It was brilliantly done. He caught him in the stomach and sent him crashing back against the wall. His head hit it with a bang that shook the whole room and he slid down the wall, unconscious.
Barak leaped to his feet and lunged for the corner where his sword had been thrown. I hauled myself up, almost screaming at the pain ,from my back and my cut wrist, as Toky dropped his knife and pulled out his sword. Barak reached his weapon, but half-stumbled as he rose. Toky would have stuck him had I not grabbed my dagger and stabbed him in the thigh. As he let out a bellow of pain and fury Barak slashed at his hand, half severing it. Toky’s sword clanged to the floor.
Marchamount reached to his belt and produced a dagger of his own. Breathing heavily, he lunged at me, but Barak kicked out again and knocked the big man’s legs from under him. He landed on the floor with a thump. I winced as Barak lunged with his sword, burying it in Toky’s heart. Toky looked down, stared round at us with those savage eyes, unbelieving, then their strange light seemed to go out and he crumpled slowly to the floor. Barak and I stood for a second, scarcely able to believe the savage force which had dogged our steps these last weeks was gone.
‘There’s a new face in hell,’ Barak said.
There was a moan from the corner as Fletcher came to. Marchamount hauled himself up with the aid of the table, dusty and red in the face. Barak turned and held the sword at his throat. ‘Now, you big old toad, you’re going to come with us and croak to the earl.’
Marchamount swayed. ‘Please,’ he said. ‘Listen. The duke will pay—’
Barak laughed. ‘Not us, he won’t. You’ll have to do better than that, you fat toad. Whose ancestors were all fishmongers and serfs,’ he added with pleasure.
Marchamount hung his head. I almost felt sorry for him. Fletcher was struggling to his feet. He stood groggily against the wall for a moment, taking in Toky’s body and Marchamount pinned against the table. Then he jumped to the door, threw it open and ran. I made to follow but Barak held me back.
‘Let him go. We’ve got our prize.’
‘Please,’ Marchamount groaned, ‘let me sit. I feel faint.’
Barak gestured to the bale of wool. ‘Go on, then, you great bag of guts.’ He watched contemptuously as Marchamount half-fell onto it, then turned to me. ‘Get that vase.’
‘What?’
‘We’re taking that to the earl as well.’
I picked up the vase. At least it was in my hands. It was very heavy, almost full. ‘I am not sure about this, Barak,’ I said. ‘We have Marchamount, we know about the duke. That’s enough to save Cromwell and damn the Howards.’
He looked at me seriously. ‘I must have that vase,’ he said quietly.
‘But Jack, you know what it can do—’
‘I must have it. I—’
Barak broke off with a yell. Marchamount, moving faster than I would have thought possible, had bent and grabbed at Toky’s sword, then jumped up and thrust at Barak’s neck. Barak twisted just in time to deflect the blow, but it caught his sword arm. He grabbed at his bicep, blood welling between his fingers. He dropped the sword, his arm useless. Marchamount hefted Barak’s sword and glanced at me standing with the vase. He gave me a triumphant look as he drew back his sword arm to give Barak a killing blow.
I threw the contents of the vase at him. A great spout of thick black liquid shot out, its stink filling the room as it drenched Marchamount. He howled, staggered back, and slipped in some of the stuff that had fallen to the floor. He overbalanced, falling back against the table. The candle overturned. The flame touched his sleeve and before my unbelieving eyes Marchamount’s whole body erupted into a pillar of fire. I jumped back in horror as he screamed, a mass of flame from head to toe. He beat his hands against his sides, frantically, uselessly. Already there was an awful smell of burning flesh. I saw the table was burning too, and the floor where some of the stuff had fallen.