Dark Fire

I bowed quickly and left him. I told Joan to fetch him some food, then hurriedly donned my robe again; it had been washed the day before but already had a City stink. I wanted to catch both Marchamount and Bealknap before the dinner. As I hurried out to the street, I thought: poor honest Joseph, if he knew the nightmare tangle of deceptions Cromwell had involved me in he would flee the house. But no, he would not; while I was his only hope of setting Elizabeth free he would stand fast, like a much-battered rock.

***

I REFLECTED ON WHAT Barak had told me at the wharf. With my naturally sceptical temperament it was hard for me to believe Greek Fire could be real, and as for 'Sepultus' Gristwood, no class of persons is more associated with trickery than alchemists. Yet I had no doubt Barak had truthfully described what he saw. And he and Cromwell were hardly people to be taken in easily. There were new wonders and terrors every day in this world, which many prophets said was coming to its end; but I could not quite believe in it all yet. It was too fantastical.

And if it was

real? The Byzantines might have kept the secret so well they ended by losing it, but in this our Europe of spies and religious quarrels England could not keep such a secret for long. It would be stolen sooner or later, and then what? The seas empty of ships, whole navies devoured by fire? I shook my head in troubled perplexity; how bizarre it seemed to me, thinking of such things and all the while trudging through the dust of staid, familiar Chancery Lane. I must put such thoughts from my head, I told myself, concentrate on the task ahead. And after being followed yesterday I had an eye out for my own security. I cast a quick glance round, but the only others in the lane were more robed lawyers riding to the Inn. An acquaintance waved and I returned his salute. With a dark glance at the Domus opposite, I turned under the Lincoln's Inn gate, the guard in his box bowing as I passed.

I went first to my chambers, for I needed to leave a note for Godfrey. I had expected them to be empty but when I entered Skelly was there copying, slouched so low over his quill his nose almost touched the papers. He peered up at me.

'In on a Sunday, John? You should not bend your head so close to the paper, the humours will rush to your brain.'

'It took me so long to rewrite the Beckman conveyance, sir, I got behind. I came in to copy the arbitration agreement for the Salters' Company.'

'Well, this shows application,' I said. I leaned over to have a look, then caught my breath. He had failed to ensure his ink was well mixed and a pale dribble of words ran across the page. 'This is no good.'

He looked up at me tremulously, his eyes red. 'What's wrong with it, sir?'

'The ink is watery.' His miserable stare made me suddenly angry. 'Look, can't you see? This will fade in a year. A legal document is no good unless it be written in thick black ink.'

'I'm sorry, sir.'

My irritation spilled over. 'It'll have to be done again. That's more good paper you've cost me, Skelly. The cost will come from your wages.' I frowned at his anxious face. 'Oh, just start again.'

Godfrey's door opened. 'What's afoot? I thought I heard raised voices.'

'John Skelly would make an angel in the heavenly spheres raise its voice. I didn't think you'd be in, Godfrey. You're not going to the lunch with Norfolk surely?'

He grunted. 'I thought I should see what the papist rogue looked like in the flesh.'

'Now that we are met, may I ask a favour? Come into my room.'

'Certainly.'

I closed the door on Skelly, and bade my friend sit down. 'Godfrey, I have a – a new matter. Something urgent. Together with the Wentworth case it will take much of my time this next fortnight. Can you deal with some of my work? For a share of the fee, of course.'

'I would be happy to. Including the Bealknap hearing?'

'No, I had better keep that. But everything else.'

He studied me carefully. 'You look troubled, Matthew.'

'I hate losing my temper. But between Skelly and this new affair-'

'Something interesting?'

'I can't speak of it. Now -' I lifted a heap of papers from a table – 'I will show you what cases I have.' I spent half an hour going through my matters with him, relieved that, apart from the Bealknap case next week, I should not have to appear in court for a fortnight.

'I am in your debt again,' I said when we were done. 'Any news of your friend Robert Barnes?'

He sighed heavily. 'Still in the Tower.'

'Barnes is a friend of Archbishop Cranmer's. Surely he'll protect him.'

'I hope so.' He brightened. 'The archbishop is to give the sermons at St Paul's Cross next week now Bishop Sampson is in the Tower.' He clenched his fist, reminding me that for all his mild ways he was fierce in his religion. 'With God's help we will prevail over the papist troop.'