Dark Fire

'She knows nothing more than what she has told me before. I am convinced of that now.'

'Rude woman,' he said.

'God's death,' I snapped, 'you are a churl. You enjoy mocking your betters, don't you? Refinement seems a crime in your eyes.'

'She's got haughty ways and a vile tongue,' Barak said, 'like all her class. People like her grow rich on the sweat of those who toil on their lands. Put her out to fend for herself and she wouldn't last a week.' He smiled bitterly. 'They use honeyed words when it suits them, but see how they address their inferiors and you divine their true natures.'

'Oh, you are a bitter man, Jack Barak,' I said. 'Your time in the gutter has soured you like an old apple. She has more care for the people around her than you do.'

'And you?' he asked unexpectedly. 'Do you have a care for your servants?'

I laughed. 'You are hardly a servant. If you were I should have put you out long ago.'

'I did not mean me. I mean your clerk John Skelly. Has it never occurred to you why his copying is so bad, why he works with a candle?'

'What on earth do you mean?'

'The man is half blind.'

'What?'

'He can hardly see. I noticed it the first time I saw him. He's afraid to say anything lest you put him on the street. But you didn't notice, did you? Neither you nor your holy friend, Brother Wheelwright.'

I stared at him, realizing that if Skelly could not see properly that would explain all his inefficiencies. 'I – I did not think-'

'No. He was beneath notice,' Barak replied bitterly. He jammed his cap back on his head as a boy appeared, leading the horses. 'Well, where to now?' he said. 'Did the fine lady tell you anything new?'

'No. Whatever Marchamount is hiding, I think perhaps it is now time to leave the earl to pressure him.'

Barak grunted. 'You're seeing sense at last.'

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.