Dark Fire (47 page)

‘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?’

‘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.

‘Your aim is to catch these killers?’ he asked.

‘Yes. They have killed five people now. The Gristwood brothers, Bathsheba and her brother, and the watchman. A founder called Leighton is probably dead too.’

‘I remember you were asking about founders.’

‘Yes. I think we were too late to save him. And there are three more people kept in hiding for fear of these monstrous rogues. I want to catch them, stop them cutting this swathe through
London.’

‘And to recover the formula for Greek Fire for Cromwell?’

I hesitated. ‘Yes.’

‘Have you considered the havoc such a weapon may wreak? It could burn whole navies. It could be used to fire a city, as we saw last night.’

‘I know,’ I said quietly. ‘The image of great ships on fire forever comes unbidden to my head. But, Guy, if Cromwell does not get it, others will, foreign powers who would use
it against England.’

‘And take her back to Rome?’ He raised his eyebrows, and I remembered he was neither English nor Protestant. He considered for a moment. ‘What did you wish to ask
me?’

‘Do not answer if you feel you cannot. But I know now that there was a barrel of Greek Fire kept at Barty’s for a hundred years. And that there was a formula. My belief is the
Gristwoods used the period between their discovery last October and their approach to Cromwell in March to build their apparatus – there is evidence of that – but also to try and make
some more, using the formula.’

‘A barrel would not last for ever.’

‘Exactly. And with two ships destroyed, most of the barrel is probably used up. That they could set that fire last night may indicate they have made more. But
how
, Guy? How does an
alchemist create material from a formula?’

‘By finding the correct mixture of the four elements. Earth, air, fire and water.’

‘That all things are composed of. Yes, but that is no easy task.’

‘To be sure. It is easy enough to make iron, using the minerals God has seeded in the earth, but hard to make gold or we would all be eating from gold plates and the stuff would be
worthless.’

‘And to make Greek Fire, how easy might that be?’

‘Without the formula, it is impossible to tell.’

I sat up. ‘You spoke of iron and gold just then. There are some things that are common, easy to find, like iron, and others like gold which are very rare.’

‘Of course. That is obvious.’

‘I have been reading about the history of fire weapons in the east. We know the Byzantines had no problem in finding the elements needed to create the liquid that is set on fire. Equally,
similar substances are mentioned by the Romans, but they were not developed as weapons. I think that perhaps a crucial element needed to manufacture Greek Fire is hard to get. I think the
Gristwoods may have been looking for a substitute for this missing element. This could have led them to the Polish drink that burned the table at the inn.’

He stroked his chin. ‘So they used that to make Greek Fire?’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps.’

‘And, from what you say, they were already working with the rogues who were to become their killers in a plot
against
Cromwell?’

‘Yes. I don’t know how that came about. But, Guy, if I was able to find some of the original Greek Fire in the Barty’s churchyard I told you of—’

His face wrinkled in distaste. ‘Desecrating graves—’

‘Yes, yes, I agree. But it is to be done anyway. If I found some and brought it to you, could you analyse it for me, distil its essence or whatever it is you do?’

‘I am an apothecary, not an alchemist.’

‘You know as much of their arts as most of them do.’

He took a deep breath and folded his arms. ‘To what end, Matthew?’ he asked.

‘To help me find out what has happened—’

He broke in sharply. ‘Matthew, you forget what you are asking me. To analyse Greek Fire so that Thomas Cromwell may have the secret.’ He paced the room, his dark face more serious
than I had ever seen it. At length he turned to me.

‘If you can find this cursed stuff and bring it to me I will look at it. But then I will destroy it. I will give you no clue to its manufacture that may help Cromwell. If my researches
throw up anything that will aid you to catch these murderers without doing that, I will tell you. I am sorry, Matthew, but that is all I am prepared to do.’

‘Very well. I agree.’ I extended my hand and he took it. He still looked serious. ‘St Gregory of Nyssa once said all the arts and sciences have their roots in the struggle
against death. And so they should have. This thing of ruin and destruction is a perversion, a monstrosity. If you find that formula, you should destroy it and all the world will be
safer.’

I sighed. ‘I am bound to Cromwell. And to help my country.’

‘And how do you think Cromwell, and King Henry, would use Greek Fire, ruthless men of blood that they are? For murder and mayhem, that is how.’ He was angry. ‘This is far worse
than Scarnsea, Matthew. Cromwell has used you again not just to hunt a murderer, but to aid him in a brutal, cruel blasphemy.’

I bit my lip.

‘And Barak,’ he continued, ‘how does he see things?’

‘He is utterly loyal to his master.’ I looked at Guy. ‘I will tell him nothing of this conversation.’ I leaned back on the bed with a sigh. ‘You do well to upbraid
me,’ I said quietly. ‘I have worried about what Greek Fire may do, but – yes, I have been driven on by a passion to catch these murderers, recover what was stolen. And to save
Elizabeth Wentworth. At any cost.’

‘That cost may be too high. You must decide when the time comes, Matthew. It will be between you and God.’