wincing at a sharp pain from my left arm, and banged on the floor.
To my relief I heard movement downstairs, then foot-steps. Guy came in, carrying a large flagon and a cup. His face was drawn with anxiety and lack of sleep.
'Wa – water,' I croaked.
He sat on the bed and lifted my head to the cup. 'Do not gulp it,' he said. 'You will want to, but you must take small sips or you will be sick.' I nodded, letting him trickle water slowly into my mouth. My throat seemed to sing with relief as it passed down. He sat with me thus for several minutes, letting me drink slowly. At length I lay back, noticing that my arm was bandaged.
'What happened?' I whispered.
'You were brought here insensible last night, on a cart with that man Barak and the girl Bathsheba. You are suffering from the effects of smoke and you have a burn on your arm.' He looked at me seriously. 'The fire has caused much damage. Two streets at Queenhithe were quite burned down. Thank the Lord they were so close to the river – they were able to draw water from there.'
'Is anyone hurt?'
'I do not know. Your friend Barak has gone to rouse Lord Cromwell, he says he will need to deal with this. Barak was affected by the smoke too. I told him he should not go out but he insisted.'
'Bathsheba,' I said. 'The girl, how is she?'
Guy's face darkened. 'She has been stabbed in the stomach, there is little I can do. I have given her some drugs to ease her pain and she is sleeping. But it is only a matter of time. Who did that to her, Matthew?'
'The same villain who set fire to the house and left me and Barak to burn to death. There were two more bodies there, the girl's brother and the watchman.'
'Dear Christ.' Guy crossed himself.
'Barak is right: Cromwell's intervention will be needed here or there will be a great hue and cry.' I closed my eyes. 'Dear God, is this to be Scarnsea again, a host of innocent people torn from the world in blood and violence?'
Guy continued to look at me, sternly but also doubtfully, in a way he never had before.
'What is it?' I asked.
'I went out to buy some things I needed while you were sleeping. There are rumours abroad that the fire was started by supernatural means, that there is magic involved. Apparently it was not a normal fire, it roared up suddenly and consumed the ground floor of the house in a moment.'
'It did,' I said. 'I was there. But there is no magic, Guy, I promise you. Did you think I could ever become involved in the dark arts?'
'No, but-'
'No forbidden knowledge, I swear. An ancient way of making fire rediscovered, that is all. It is what I have been working on for Cromwell. I could not tell you.'
He continued to look at me questioningly. 'I see. Your friend distrusts me. Perhaps you did too, if this matter affects Cromwell whom, yes, I see as an enemy. I wondered why you would not tell me more.'
'I don't distrust you, Guy. God's wounds, I think you're the only one left I do trust.'
Guy looked at the cross. 'There is the only one you need to trust and follow.'
I shook my head sadly. 'Where was Christ when that poor girl and her brother were being cut to pieces last night?'
'Watching, in the sorrow you see there in his face, as men used the free will God gave them to do terrible evil.' He sighed. 'Here, take this flagon. Keep taking water but remember, drink slowly.'
WHEN BARAK RETURNED an hour later, Guy brought him to my room and left us together. Barak's eyes were red and smarting and his voice was a strangled croak. His shirt was smoke-stained and the hair on the right side of his head was quite singed away, leaving only stubble. The contrast with the untidy brown locks on the other side was so bizarre I could not help letting out a bark of nervous laughter. He grunted.
'You should see your own face, it's black as soot. And Lord Cromwell's not laughing. He's going to have to put pressure on the mayor and coroner to keep this quiet. The people down at Queenhithe found what was left of George Green's body and the watchman's, little more than charred sticks, and they're talking about magic. You know there's two streets gone? It's lucky there was no wind or the fire could have spread across the City.'
'Was anyone else hurt?'
'A few have burns and plenty more are homeless. The Gristwoods' house is a pile of ashes. Goodwife Gristwood will have no home to come back to.'
'No. Poor old creature.' I paused. 'Well, now I've seen it. That was Greek Fire, wasn't it?'
'Yes, I recognized the smell as the fire started. Those bastards must have been waiting in the parlour till we were trapped upstairs. They must have coated the walls with the stuff, set light to it, then got out the window.' He sat down on the bed. 'Jesu, the terror when I saw it. It was just like at the wharf, the whole place alive with red fire in a second. The same thick black smoke.' He frowned. 'Why try to kill us in that way? They could have surprised us and struck us down as they did Bathsheba and her brother.'
'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.'
