Revelation

Men began running to the steward's directions, their swords drawn. Footsteps echoed on the stairs. I followed Barak towards the right-hand doorway. Barak spoke, his voice a murmur. 'I saw a faint light down here,' he whispered. 'Now I will get him.' He gripped his sword firmly in his uninjured arm.

He was right. As we passed into a dusty hallway of shuttered windows, I saw that a door at the far end was half open. A dim red light came from inside, flickering softly. It must be the room where the fire was lit. I felt heat wafting out. Then a tinkling of breaking glass sounded, and we became aware of another sound within the room, a low continual hissing, like a disturbed adder.

'What in God's name is that?' I whispered. I stared at Barak, wide-eyed. 'What's going on?'

'I don't know.' Barak hesitated, then walked steadily on, his sword held before him. He reached the doorway and stood listening for a second. The hissing was louder now. With a backward glance at me, he pushed the door open. We stared in, at a scene that might have come from Hell itself.

The room was large, probably the master bedroom. In one wall a large fireplace was set, and a fire burned brightly there, making the room stifling. Straight ahead of us was the only furniture in the room, an ornate, high-backed chair, such as a high official might use. A man was sitting there, dressed in the black robe of a Benedictine monk, the hood raised over his head. The face was middle-aged, with high cheekbones. The man stared straight at us, flames reflected from the fire dancing in his eyes. There was a large mole on one side of his long nose, a red gash across one cheek. Goddard stared at us. His lips were drawn back into a terrible, triumphant smile. One arm rested on the chair-arm, the other hung over the side. Beneath it lay a smashed lamp: that must have been the tinkling sound we heard. The candle within it still burned on the floor, on top of a thin trail of grey ash like stuff. The ash led to a hissing, sparkling fire that was running quickly down a trail of dark powder to two large barrels under the shuttered window. It was at the far end of the room; we might not reach it before it burned down. I saw the shutters were not quite closed.

For once I reacted quicker than Barak, who seemed transfixed by the sight of the gunpowder trail. I grabbed his arm, twirled him round and shouted, 'Run!'

We fled the room, back down the corridor. Sir Thomas, Russell and Harsnet stared at us. 'Get everybody out, now!' I yelled. 'There's gunpowder, he's going to blow up the house!'

I heard footsteps running towards us from all over the building. Those in the hall were already running for the door. Barak and I followed, with huge strides, almost leaping.

Then I felt a hot heavy impact at my back. It blew me off my feet as though I was a doll. Everything round me seemed to quiver, though strangely I heard no sound. My last thought before losing consciousness was, he did it, he made the earth quake.

Chapter Forty-two

WHEN I WOKE my first terrible thought was that I was dead and had been sent to Hell for my unbelief, for all around me was smoke, lit from behind by fire. Then I saw white circular lights moving in the smoke. One approached and for a dizzy moment I feared to see a demon, but the shape resolved itself into Harsnet's face, looking shocked and streaked with smoke-marks. He knelt beside me and I realized I was lying on my side on damp grass, and then that my back was bare, for a chill breeze wafted across it.

'Stay still, Master Shardlake,' Harsnet said in soothing tones. 'Your back is burned, not badly but the village healing man has been, he has applied some lavender to it.' I became conscious then that my back hurt; at the same time the echo of a distant, tremendous explosion seemed to sound in my ears. I realized that Harsnet's voice sounded strangely muffled.

I sat up, shaking my head. A blanket half covered me and I pulled it round to cover my bare back, a movement that hurt it, making me wince.

'I said that was the first thing you'd do when you woke up,' a voice beside me said. I turned to see Barak beside me, his lower half also covered with a blanket. Other men were lying in similar positions all over the long grass of the lawn. I turned my neck painfully. Behind me, at the far end of the lawn, the Goddard house was ablaze from end to end, flames and smoke belching from the windows and from the collapsed roof.

'He had gunpowder,' I said, clutching Harsnet's arm. 'He was in there, he lit the barrels—'

'Yes,' the coroner said gently. 'It is over. The back of the house has collapsed and the rest is burning fast. You saved our lives, sir, by calling out to us.'

'Did everyone get out?'

'Yes. But several others were injured by the blast. One of Sir Thomas' men was thrown through the air and landed on his head. He is likely to die. A doctor has been sent for from Barnet. You worried us, sir, you have been unconscious over an hour.'