Dark Fire

‘Tales?’ Joseph asked. ‘What tales?’


‘Better you don’t know,’ I replied. I stared out of the window at the gatehouse, imagining riders coming through the gates and leading us away too, to the Tower. But more likely it would be a knife thrust in the dark from some ruffian like Toky. I turned back to Barak.

‘You’re right, Jack, it’s not safe for us in London. Grey. By God - he started as a lawyer.’

‘And learned to dissemble.’ Barak frowned. ‘Why didn’t he kill Kytchyn and Goodwife Gristwood? He knew where they were.’

‘He was almost the only one who did. If they’d been killed the trail would have led back to him. Besides, they’d told us all they knew. I hope they will be safe now, given what they know too.’

Barak shook his head. ‘We can’t hang around to find out.’

‘But where will you both go?’ Joseph asked.

‘I’ve got people who’ll keep me safe over in Essex,’ Barak replied. He turned to me. ‘You could go to your father’s place - at Lichfield isn’t it?’

I nodded. ‘Yes, that’s safest. It looks like I will have a sojourn in the country after all. Joseph, you should leave. Better you are not seen with us.’

Joseph was looking at the gate, where a messenger in the king’s livery was dismounting. He ran across the courtyard to the hall. ‘They’re bringing the news to the lawyers,’ I said.

‘I’m off,’ Barak said.

‘Are you fit enough?’

‘Ay.’

He stared at me with those keen dark eyes, then reached out and shook my hand. To my surprise his eyes were moist. ‘We gave them a good run, eh?’ he said. ‘We did all we could?’

I returned his grip. ‘Yes. We did. Thank you, Barak, for everything.’

He nodded, then turned and walked rapidly away across the yard, pulling his cap down low. The messenger had disappeared into the chapel. I felt alone, unprotected. I sat down again.

‘Are you truly in danger, Master Shardlake?’ Joseph asked quietly.

‘I could be. I shall leave now, go home and pack some things, then ride out. There is just one visit I have to make before I go.’ I shook his hand. ‘Go, Joseph, now. Take Elizabeth and your brother to Essex.’

He shook my hand firmly. ‘Thank you, sir, for everything. I shall never forget what you have done.’

I nodded. I could think of no words.

‘If anyone asks, I’ll say I don’t know where you’ve gone.’

‘That would be best. Thank you, Joseph.’

A bell began ringing through the misty morning, calling the members of the Inn to hear the news. A puzzled throng of lawyers appeared, crossing to the chapel. I saw Bealknap darting among them, announcing the news, his face flushed with pleasure at knowing before everyone else. I stood a moment, gathering all the reserves of strength I had left, then went back to my chambers.




I LEFT SKELLY SOME money and instructions to refer Godfrey’s and my cases to barristers I trusted with the work. I told him I did not know how long I would be away. Then I slipped out while everyone was in the chapel and walked quickly home. Joan was out; she had taken Simon with her on some errand. The house was still and empty in the quiet morning. I was glad I did not have to explain this latest disruption to her.

I took some money from the store in my room, leaving the rest for her with a note. Then I went out to the stable. Barak’s mare Sukey was already gone, but Genesis was standing quietly in his stall. I patted him. ‘Well, I think we may be stuck with each other. Lord Cromwell will not be wanting you back.’

And then, quite suddenly, it all overwhelmed me. I thought of my first meeting with Cromwell, at a dinner for reformers more than fifteen years before. I remembered his keenness for reform, his powerful mind, the forcefulness and energy that had held me in thrall. Then the years of power, his patronage of my work and afterwards my disillusion with his ruthlessness and brutality. My break with him three years before and now my failure to save him at the end. Perhaps no one could have saved him after the Cleves debacle, but I laid my head against the horse’s flank and wept for him. I thought of that great man of power, now locked in the Tower, where he had sent so many of his foes.

‘I am sorry,’ I said aloud. ‘I am sorry.’

I must leave, I told myself, I must pull myself together. I dried my face as best I could on my sleeve, then rode out into the City. I had one more thing to do.


C. J. Sansom's books