Deliver us from Evil (57 page)

'And so resolution,' he whispered, gazing down at the thing by his feet, 'is fortified by despair.' He turned round slowly. For a long while, he said nothing; then he crossed back to Milady and brushed her hand with his fingertips. 'All is gone now,' he whispered. 'Save only that matter of which
I
spoke to you before. For that, Milady - that still remains.'

Milady did not answer, but reached for her dagger. She took it, and sheathed it away beneath her cloak.

Robert tightened his grip on her hand. 'You know full well what it is
I
am talking about.'

She did not answer.

'Very well, then -
I
must be plain.
I
would grow, Milady, a being like yourself

Milady shook her head. 'This is not the time.' 'When better?'

'When we have read the book.'

'Why not now?'

'Because' - Milady studied him a moment more, then broke away -'we still have much to do.' 'What?'

She made no reply, but glided from the room and out through the house. Robert followed her, until they were both standing in the street again, perfectly still. Milady closed her eyes, then sniffed the faint breeze. 'Yes,' she nodded, it is already spread.'

Robert met her stare for a moment and then, deep in his stomach, felt the sharpening of the agony again. He drew out his sword. Halfway down the narrow street, he could see a baker's shop; the door was hanging half-broken on its hinges. From inside the shop, he heard the sudden clattering of a pan; and at the same moment, the pain in his stomach grew worse. He began to hurry down the lane, but he could only stumble, for it hurt him now to breathe; and it was Milady who passed through the shop door first. Robert followed - and saw ahead of him the corpse of what appeared to be a servant girl. Two creatures, plague-marked and rotten as Emily had been, were bent over her, feeding like dogs. They had hissed as Milady entered; but then, as Robert joined her, the two creatures backed away, and their eyes grew dead.

'Wondrous,' Milady murmured, 'the power which you possess over these things.'

Robert laughed despairingly. 'Yet if the venom spreads to every plague-corpse in London, what value will my power have then?' He stepped forward, and aimed with his sword. 'For
I
cannot stab a whole teeming city of them - thus.' His aim was a good one; the creature he ran through sighed a soft scream, and collapsed. But its fellow, emboldened by Robert's distraction, leapt suddenly; and he found himself staggering and falling beneath its weight. He twisted desperately to avoid the creature's jaws, and struggled to stab it as he had just stabbed its mate. But the creature was too close, and Robert's sword too long. He felt clammy fingers about his throat, their bones creaking as they flexed - and though he twisted again, this time the creature would not be escaped. Then suddenly, he heard a thud and a smashing of glass; and the creature shrieked and was knocked back across the floor. Robert leapt at once to his feet, and watched as the creature tried to stagger to its own. For a moment it appeared to be succeeding, despite the shards of the lantern in its skull; but the flames were already licking down its body, and the bones in its legs were starting to bubble and collapse. 'Fire,' whispered Milady, stepping back. The heat was increasing, and the flames seemed greasy with melted flesh. She smiled faintly as she backed into the street. 'For what other hope, at this late stage, do we have?'

The flames were already spitting sparks into the night; and as Robert watched, he saw a sudden orange glow from an inn across the street. Its yard had been layered with chippings and hay, and the fire spread across it like the surge of a wave. Soon other buildings too were being licked by the flames; and there came the crashing of timbers, and distant, startled screams.

'The city is so dry,' Robert shouted, 'that if this continues, it will be utterly consumed.'

'Yes!' Milady cried back. Her eyes, like the inn, seemed ablaze with golden fire. 'And if the city is consumed - then so is the danger as well!' She pointed, and Robert could see how the flames were spreading fast down the lane. Then suddenly, stumbling through the sparks, he could make out three, four, five dark figures and, as one of them was caught and enveloped by the fire, Robert glimpsed for a moment its rotted, plague-marked face. Then the flesh began to sizzle; and the creature writhed and stumbled, and was lost upon the smoke. 'So shall they all be served,' Milady cried, 'provided only the fire can spread far enough.'

Robert had no doubt that it would. He stepped back, for the heat of the flames was already intense. He began to walk down Pudding Lane, following the course of the fire, waiting for it to reach the warehouses and sheds along the Thames where oil, and tallow, and spirits were kept. Then Milady squeezed his hand, and raised her cloak to shield her face. At the same moment, there was a deafening explosion; and a sudden ball of fire reached high into the night. The sparks were so bright, and scattered so wide, that Robert too veiled his face behind his cloak; and when he lowered it again, it was to see that London Bridge was ablaze.

Crowds of people were now gathering in the streets. Some were struggling with bags of possessions, pushing barrows piled with crockery and clothes; but already, such was the heat of the flames that buildings were starting to shatter and crack, and suddenly people began to run, leaving their possessions spilled amidst the rubble. Robert seized Milady's arm, and pulled her desperately, for he had seen that they too ran the risk of being trapped by the fire; and even as he did so, there was a crashing from above them, and a wall of burning brick began to break and collapse like a wave. Milady screamed; Robert seized her in his arms; and both of them threw themselves forward into the mud. At the same moment, a heavy beam teetered, and fell; and as it came crashing downwards, Robert heard the hiss of sparks and felt them scorching his cheeks. He staggered to his feet and stumbled forward again, still pulling on Milady; and as he did so, he laughed, for he could see the glint of passion in her golden eyes, as the furnace of London was reflected in her stare. He kissed her, feeling drunk himself with a strange, wild passion; and Milady's lips were hungry and eager in response. She broke away suddenly, for the heat was growing ever more intense; but even as they ran, they clasped each other and continued to laugh. They could see now how the fire was spreading deep into the City; and how the crowds were twisting and widening as though in mimicry of the flames. Robert and Milady were swept along with them; and in the midst of so much terror and despair, still they felt their strange, exultant delirium, so that they would dance, and laugh, and kiss all the more, as the flames rose brighter and brighter into the sky.

By dawn, the fire was still widening in a mighty arc; and not a single rain-cloud marred the blue sky. Robert and Milady began to leave the crowds behind, for although the fire was still a long away from the Tower, Milady had grown suddenly anxious to ensure that the book was secured. Once arrived at the Dolphin, she removed it from the mattress, then continued with Robert on towards Wapping, where their ship was being loaded for the onward voyage. They boarded it and went to their quarters, where the book was carefully concealed once again; then they returned towards the Tower, and their rooms at the inn. There seemed little outward signs of panic in the streets; but from the towers of distant churches, bells were clanging the alarm, and to the west, high above the City, billowing clouds of smoke marked the progress of the fire.

Arrived back at the Dolphin, Robert reached for Milady again. For a moment, the distant blaze was reflected in her stare; and she smiled as she kissed him, and ran her fingers through his hair. He sought to pull her down with him upon his bed; but she broke free, and laid a fingertip on his parted lips. 'A moment,' she whispered; then she smiled again, and left the room. Even as Robert watched her leave, he felt an aching weariness seeping through his limbs, and his eyes begin to close. For a moment he struggled to keep them apart; but he knew that Milady would wa
ke him on her return; and so he
surrendered to his tiredness, and at once fell asleep.

When he opened his eyes again, though, it seemed strangely dark. Robert leapt to his feet. He stared about him wildly, but he was alone in the room. Where was Milady? He hurried to his window and, even before he had looked out from it, could hear the crackling of the flames. The fire was still a long way distant; but it had spread violently and, as it burned, its colour seemed like that of blood. Again, Robert stared about him, and wondered with a sudden anger where Milady could have gone. He turned back to the window; stared a second time at the great bow of fire. He swore softly to himself beneath his breath; then dressed quickly and hurried out into the streets.

Dawn was already rising behind him; but the sun's light seemed feeble compared with the furnace ahead. The fire was now so intense that even the pigeons, flapping desperately above their burning roosts, found their feathers singed and fell, tiny balls of flame, into the vaster blaze. Nothing, Robert thought, gazing at the showers of firedrops which marked the inferno's outer edge, would survive such a storm of heat; and he smiled, to think of the horror which had been so utterly consumed. At the same moment, he felt a shiver of that same glee he had shared the night before, when he had danced through the streets with Milady; and he wondered again with sudden desperation where she could have vanished to. He began to hunt her, but he knew -
swept as he was on the chaos of the terror-stricken streets - that his search was hopeless; and he abandoned it at last, and returned to the inn. From there he watched the fire, and its continued spread, until at last the sun began to set and the night to return. And still the fire raged; as the stars seemed to melt, and the flames beat high against the purple sky.

Not until next morning did Milady finally return. Robert asked her where she had been, but she did not reply, only took his arm and insisted it was time that they boarded their ship. Robert could read, though, in the flush of her cheeks and the gleam of her skin, what her business had been; and when they arrived in their cabin, she gestured to a trunk. 'There are always easy pickings,' she murmured, 'in times of such chaos.' Robert glanced at her, then opened the lid. There were rows and rows of bottles inside, and he knew at once, from the pain in his guts, what had been mingled with the wine,
I
have always found,' Milady nodded, 'that when embarking on a voyage, it is best to have a cordial ready to hand.'

'And a companion too,' Robert asked, 'to share in such pleasures?'

Milady did not answer straight away. Instead, she closed the lid of the trunk, and then kissed him softly. 'All in good
time,' she murmured at last. 'All
in good time.'

They left that same night. The ship pulled out from its harbour past tiny, overloaded boats, fleeing down-river towards the darkness ahead. Behind them, though, even the Thames seemed consumed by flames as it boiled with the reflection of the burning city, and sparks like fireflies swarmed above its flow. Only by London Bridge, where the fire had first begun, did the waters seem calm; for there, along the bank on which Pudding Lane had once stood, there was nothing left to be burned, only a heart of blackness abandoned by the flames. Robert stared at it for a long while; then he turned to Milady, and held her tightly in his arms. Over her shoulder, he could see all of London spread out before him: its steeples, and towers, and chimneys, and roofs crumbling, even as he watched them, into the raging arc of the flames, dust to be borne and scattered on the winds. Only St Paul's, the highest and greatest building of all, still seemed to stand unharmed upon its hill, looming dark above the flames; and then suddenly, on its roof, there rose the flickerings of fire. The ship began to swing with the course of the Thames, so that the view of the burning city was lost and nothing could be seen of London, only the hectic bruising of the flames across the sky. But later, the course veered back, and Robert could make out the tower of St Paul's again, now completely enveloped by flames; and suddenly, even as he watched it, he saw a spitting of stones and a portion of the tower began to collapse. Robert turned back to Milady. Me kissed her with a sudden, urgent passion; then he broke from her again, and stared ahead into the waiting silence, and the darkness of the night.

IV

'In his las
t sickness he was exceedingly p
enitent and wrote a letter of his repentance
..."

John Aubrey,
Brief Lives

D

usk was lengthening over Woodstock Park. Faint across the dap pled stillness, bells chimed out the summons to evensong; but on the lawns of High Lodge they sounded barely at all, for there was no breeze borne upon the purpling shadows, and the heat of afternoon still lingered in the air. Not even the branches of the oak trees stirred; not even the leaves against the open bedroom windows. Nothing to disturb the calm; nothing to disturb my Lord of Rochester's bad dreams.

And then suddenly, very distant, the sound of a horse's hooves. Lord Rochester stirred. He struggled to raise his head. Then he moaned; the pain from his suppurations was great, his back so sticky that it clung to the sheets. He slumped again on to his pillows. The hoofbeats were drawing nearer now, and there were footsteps too, crunching across the forecourt: servants running out to meet the unexpected guest. Then the hoofbeats came to an abrupt, wheeling halt. Boots could be heard stepping down on to the gravel; the low murmur of conversation; and then the horse being led away to the stables. At the same time - footsteps crossing to the main door.