Dark Fire

Chapter Thirty-eight

WHEN WE REACHED HOME I felt faint again as I dismounted. I almost fell down in the yard. I leaned against the horse, taking deep breaths. Barak looked at me.

'You all right?'

'Yes,' I replied curtly. 'But I think I'll lie down for a while.'

'What about Marchamount? Shall I send word to the earl, get him brought in for questioning?'

'Yes. But to Cromwell's house, not the Tower. Being ordered there should be enough to make him talk and it will keep the matter privy.'

He nodded. 'I'll ride on to Whitehall, then. I'll be back later. Don't go out till I return, it may not be safe.'

I nodded and went indoors to ask Joan to get me some bread and cheese and a jug of beer. I took them up to my room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I put my hand on my brow and was relieved to find no sign of fever. My faintness must have been due to the strain of the last two weeks, coupled with constant chasing across London in this endless, burning heat. I would not let infirmity make a victim of me. Four more days and everything would be settled one way or another. And then – then I would see Lady Honor again, and next time I would not play the coward. All the questions surrounding her had been answered, yet still she wanted to know me. I had felt it, more strongly than ever on the bench; she cared for me as I did for her. Curse Barak for his interruption.

My burnt arm was stinging. I removed the bandage and applied some of Guy's oil to the red, puckered skin, shuddering as I remembered the flame licking at it. The kiss of fire so light and agonizing. I bound my arm up again and lay back on the bed.

I fell asleep at once and again slept for several hours, this time without dreams. I woke to find the air mercifully cooler, long shadows stealing across the garden. My head felt clearer and I lay thinking about what Barak had said about John Skelly, how it made sense. I had been angry with Skelly because I thought him careless, unworthy of the kindness I had shown him, while all the time – I thought of his tired red eyes looking up at me, and shook my head.

It occurred to me that perhaps his problem could be solved with spectacles. More and more people wore them, the king himself it was said. I could buy him a pair. I nodded happily at the thought of telling Barak that. Then I frowned. Why should I tell him anything? What did his good opinion matter to me? With luck our association would soon be over and I should have no more of his brutal crudity or inconstant moods. I smiled at the memory of how Lady Honor had spoken to him: few people could have put Barak in his place, yet she had.

His place. My conscience assailed me again as I remembered saying that if he worked for me I would have sacked him. Yet then I should have lost a man of brains and courage, for all his impudence, a man who had saved my life. And whom I needed to go down the Wentworths' well tonight.

I heaved myself up and descended the stairs. I found Barak in the kitchen, washing the chain that held his mezuzah with vinegar. The little gold tablet itself lay on the kitchen table. He gave me a sharp look; he was still angry with me.

'Where's Joan?' I asked.

'Having a rest before preparing supper. Even servants need a rest,' he added pointedly.

I sat opposite him. 'I have been thinking about Skelly. I shall take him to Guy, see if there may be spectacles he can prescribe that may help his sight.'

Barak stared at me with his sharp eyes. 'Skelly wouldn't be able to afford spectacles.'

'I shall pay.'

He grunted. 'And if spectacles won't help him? Will you put him out?'

'I shall have to. God's death, Barak, I have to turn a profit. I'd see if there are any charitable foundations that could help him. Come, let's not quarrel.'

He grunted. 'Yes, you want me to go down that well tonight, don't you?'

'If you will.'

'I said I would.' He replaced the mezuzah round his neck.

'Did you get the message to Cromwell?'

'I left it with Grey. He made a tart comment about how I kept asking the earl to do things when it ought to be the other way round.'

I smiled. 'He's a sober old fellow. You probably rub him up the wrong way.'

'Like Lady Honor.' He gave me a direct look. 'But are you sure the lady is all she seems? Can you see her clearly?'

'I try to.' I frowned. 'Yes, I believe so. I think we can clear both her and the duke from our calculations: that was another wrong trail.' I studied him. 'Why do you dislike her, Barak?'

He shrugged. 'People with that much pride in rank bring bad luck to those around them. I've seen how these fine families spit and scratch at each other around the court. It is dangerous to get caught in her wake. But never mind that. So she is no longer a suspect. Nor, it seems, are Bealknap and Rich.'

'Not necessarily. We should wait and see what Cromwell says about them. I hope he can make Marchamount talk.'

'He can make anyone talk. He'll show him the rack if he won't cooperate.'

'Marchamount has courage under his pomposity. He's come far from nothing.'

Barak shrugged. 'If he's defiant he'll pay the consequences.'

We stopped talking as footsteps sounded on the stairs. Joan appeared and we went through to the parlour while she prepared supper. It was starting to get dark.

'Are you fit to go to the well after we have eaten?'

'Ay,' I said. 'I don't know what came over me earlier. Heat maybe, the strain of it all.' I looked at him. 'But I shall hold fast. Let us go tonight, then perhaps at least we shall have one thing solved.'

ONCE AGAIN WE WALKED UP Budge Row and down the dark little alley. A new lock had been put on the door to the orchard, but Barak broke it open as casually as before. We slipped through the trees to the Wentworths' wall. Again Barak made a stirrup of his hands and I climbed up, grasping the top of the wall, to take a look. I set my teeth as my back protested.

There was someone in the garden. I could see two dim figures walking there, one holding a lamp. There was a faint murmur of voices. It was Needler and Joseph's mother. I thought an old woman walking with a stick could easily slip in the gloom, then remembered that light or dark made no difference to her. I signed to Barak not to move and stood there uncomfortably, my foot in his hands and my arms on the wall. I lowered my head so that my pale face would be concealed and waited as the pair came closer. My dark hair, I was sure, would be invisible.

'She was screaming at me like the devil,' I caught Needler saying. 'I can't manage her any more. She's terrified under that pert exterior and so's Avice.'

The old woman sighed. 'I must tighten the girls' reins.' They were very close now, but I took the risk of raising my head and peeping at their faces. Needler's heavy features looked worried. The old woman's face, like a demon from a painting of hell in the flickering lamplight, wore a frown.

'We must help them, David –' she said, then stopped suddenly. She seemed to cock her head. I remembered the blind often have remarkable hearing.

'What is it?' Needler asked sharply.

'Nothing. A fox perhaps.' To my relief they turned and walked back to the house. I heard no more of what they said. A door shut in the distance and shortly afterwards lights were extinguished all over the house. I stumbled down again. Barak stood rubbing his hands.

'God's death,' he whispered, 'you've near dislocated my wrists.'

'I'm sorry, but I couldn't move. The old beldame heard something as it was.'

'What in God's name was she doing in the garden in the dark?'

'She was with the steward. They wanted to talk alone, I think. I only caught a snatch of what they said. Something to do with the two girls being frightened.'

We waited for a while. An owl swooped down from a tree in the orchard, a white ghostly shape, and some small creature in the long grass screamed as it was carried off. At length I climbed the wall again. The lights were out, the garden silent, the well a dim shape in the moonlight.

'There's no sign of the dogs,' I said.

Barak hauled himself up beside me. 'That's strange. Surely if you'd had people trying to break in you'd loose the dogs at night?'

'I agree, but it seems they haven't.'

Barak sat astride the wall and pulled a couple of greasy pieces of meat wrapped in paper from his satchel. He threw them on the lawn, then tossed a stone he had found somewhere at the tree. It bounced off with a clack.

'The Moor said if a dog ate that it'd be asleep in minutes,' he whispered.

'You got that from Guy?'

'Ay. I told him the story yesterday while you were asleep. I thought he'd know of something.' He grinned. 'I found I got on well with the Moor on better acquaintance.'

I looked out over the silent lawn. 'Still no dogs.'

He scratched his chin. 'What say we risk it?'

I looked at the blank windows of the house. 'So long as we keep an eye out.'

He looked at me. 'You all right?'

'Yes, yes!'

'Right then, down we go.'

Barak leapt easily onto the lawn and I followed, wincing at the jarring my spine took as I landed. I watched the house as Barak fetched his hunks of meat and replaced them in his knapsack.

'Best not to leave these, or they'll know someone's been here.'

He removed the padlocks from the well, then I helped him off with the lid. The smell was fainter now, but the sight of that black opening still made my stomach clench. Barak unfurled his rope ladder and climbed quickly down. I kept glancing over at the house. For a moment I thought I saw a movement, a deeper blackness, at one of the upper windows, but when I looked again I saw nothing.

This time Barak managed to light his candle the first time. I turned from the house as a faint white glow lit the well and leaned carefully over the side. It was shallower than I had expected, no more than twenty feet. It was weird to see Barak standing at the bottom of that long circular hollow. He was crouching, looking at a huddle of dark shapes. He explored them with his hands. This time he was quite silent. I could not see his face.

'What is it?' I whispered.

He looked up at me, shadows from the candle making eerie shapes on his face. 'Animals. There's a cat here, a couple of dogs.' He bent down again. 'Shit, there's horrible things been done to them – the cat's had its eyes put out. This is where that neighbour's retriever went – Jesu, it's been hanged.' He half-turned and examined a larger shape. This time he did cry out, an abrupt shout that echoed off the bricks.

'What? What is it?'

'I'm coming up,' he said abruptly. 'For God's sake, keep watch on the house.'

He snuffed out the candle and clambered up again. I peered at the house, my heart beating so fast it made my vision judder. All remained dark and silent. Barak clambered over the top of the well. His eyes were wide.

'Help me get the well cap back on,' he breathed. 'We have to get out of here.'

We slid the cap back and Barak replaced the locks. With a last look at the silent house we ran back to the wall and clambered over. Back in the orchard, Barak leaned against a tree. He stared at me, then gulped.

'Someone in that house has been torturing animals. But not just animals. There's a little boy down there, a ragged boy of about seven. He's been –' he broke off '– you don't want to know, but he's dead and he didn't die quick.'

'The mad girl's brother,' I breathed. 'The girl that was put in Elizabeth's cell.'

'Perhaps. Whoever took him probably thought a beggar boy wouldn't be missed, didn't matter.' He blew out his cheeks. 'It scared me, I'll admit. I thought, if whoever did that came I would be helpless down there. I had to get out.' His voice trembled.

'I don't blame you.'

He stared at me aghast as a thought struck him. 'Could it have been Elizabeth Wentworth who killed the boy? Was that why she lost the will to live after the girl was put in with her? If that's the girl's brother down there –'

I thought a moment. 'No. Joseph said Elizabeth had a cat she was devoted to. Needler said it ran away, but I think it's her cat down there. No, it wasn't her. I think young Ralph did this. First the animals, then the child.'

'But then – Don't you see? This gives Elizabeth a motive to put the boy down the well! You could say it was apt justice for the wretch. Perhaps she found out what he was doing –'

'But why, when Needler pulled Ralph from the well, did he say nothing about the animals or the dead child?' I shook my head. 'He must have seen what was down there. I have to see Elizabeth again – I have to get her to talk.'

'If she's still alive.'

'I'll go first thing tomorrow. Thank you for what you did,' I added awkwardly.

Barak gave me a sombre look. 'You think me hard, but I'd never hurt a defenceless creature.'

'I believe you,' I said. 'Come, let's get back to Chancery Lane.'

He nodded. 'All right. Jesu, I'll be having nightmares tonight.'