C. Sansom - Dark Fire

'We'll put you down the pit alive for this, matey,' he said. He stepped aside as Wright charged through the door and headed straight for me, axe raised high.

Then he stopped with a howl as a flood of liquid landed on him from above, followed by an earthenware pot that banged on his shoulder. I stared upwards. The old woman had thrown a full pisspot at him. Her neighbour ran from her door, carrying another. She hurled it too at the big man. This time it caught him on the forehead and he stumbled against the wall with another cry, dropping his axe.

'Run!' the old woman yelled. Toky was running down the aisle, fury in his eyes now. I sped for the main door, jerking Chancery's reins free. He was wide-eyed and trembling with anxiety, but allowed me to haul him outside. Riding away was my only chance – on foot they would get me in the street. I leaped clumsily into the saddle and grasped the reins. Then they were seized from below, jerking Chancery's head aside. I looked down. To my horror I saw Toky directly underneath me, staring up at me with a snarling smile, the sunlight flashing off his dagger. I fumbled frantically for my own, which I had slipped up my sleeve as I mounted, but I was too late. Toky thrust upwards at my groin.

Chancery saved me. As Toky stabbed he reared up, neighing in terror and kicking out. Toky jumped back. I saw with a thrill of horror that his dagger was bloody; I glanced down at my waist, clutching the slippery neck of the rearing horse, but it was Chancery's blood that stained it, welling from a great gash in his side. Toky dodged the flying hooves and struck at me again but Chancery, screaming now, shied away, almost unseating me. Toky looked quickly round; along the street shutters were banging open; a group of men had appeared in the doorway of an inn at the top of the street. I pulled at the reins and Chancery stumbled towards them, his blood dripping on the road. I looked over my shoulder. Wright had joined Toky now but half the street lay between us. The sunlight glinted on Wright's axe.

'Hey, what's going on?' someone called. 'Constable!' The men from the inn spilled into the road; doors were being opened along the street, people looking fearfully out. Toky glanced at them, gave me a savage look, then turned and ran off up the street, Wright running after him. The men from the inn came over to where Chancery stood trembling from head to foot.

The innkeeper approached me. 'You all right, lawyer?'

'Yes. Thank you, yes.'

'God's death, what happened? Your horse is hurt.'

'I must get him home.' But at that moment Chancery shuddered and slipped forward to his knees. I had barely time to jump off before he fell on his side. I looked at the blood still welling on to the dusty cobbles, and thought how easily it could have been mine. I looked at his eyes and but already they were glazing over; my old horse was dead.

SOME HOURS LATER, as the heat of the day began to fade, I sat under the shade of a trellis in my garden. I had told the crowd in the street that I had been the victim of a robbery, bringing forth mutterings about the type of people living at the old friary. The innkeeper had insisted a cart be sent for to remove the horse, which was blocking the narrow street, and that I pay for it. When the cart arrived I had a ridiculous urge to ask the driver to take Chancery's corpse to my house; but what would I do with it there? As they loaded him on the cart, to take him to the Shambles, I walked down to the river to catch a boat. I blinked back tears. There was no point in going to Lady Honor's now, I was too dusty to present myself at the House of Glass, and my legs were trembling as I walked.

I closed my eyes at the memory of the sudden stillness in Chancery's eyes. He had died of shock as much as loss of blood and I blamed myself; for days I had ridden him beyond endurance through London in the heat. The poor old horse, with his quiet gentle ways. Young Simon wept when I told him Chancery was dead. I had not realized the boy was so fond of him; he had seemed more taken with Barak's mare.

I remembered the day I bought Chancery. I had been eighteen, not long in London, and he was the first horse I had bought for myself. I remembered how proud I had been as I led the pretty white creature with the broad hooves from the stables, how gentle he had been from the start. I had promised myself I would put him out to grass, but now he would never enjoy those last years in the orchard behind my garden. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes again. I wiped them away.

There was a cough at my elbow and I turned to find Barak, looking hot and dusty.

'What's happened? The boy tells me your horse has died.'

I told Barak of the attack. He frowned as he sat beside me. 'Shit, that's more bad news for the earl tomorrow. How did they know you were going there?' He thought a moment. 'It was Bealknap's property. That points to him.'

I shook my head. 'Bealknap had no idea I was going there today. No, I think Toky was following me again. I wasn't looking round me as I should, I was careless. I had an – an – encounter with Sir Edwin Wentworth at the Guildhall. They knew who you are,' I added. 'They know you have been looking for them.'

'Word's got around.' He shook his head. 'What did Lady Honor have to say?'

'I didn't go to see her. I was covered in dust and blood and sore shaken.'

'We've only eight days.' He eyed my face. 'Have you been weeping?'

'For Chancery,' I said, my voice gruff with embarrassment.

'God's death, it was only a horse. Well, I've been working while you've been sitting here. I've found a man Bealknap used as a compurgator, vouching for the good character of people he'd never heard of.'

I sat up. 'Where is he?'

Barak jerked his head towards the house. 'In there. He keeps a clothing stall in Cheapside, works for Bealknap on the side. I've put him in the kitchen. Want to talk to him?'

I followed Barak to the kitchen, trying to pull myself together. A middle-aged man sat at the table. He was plump and respectable looking, which no doubt was why Beak knap had chosen him. He rose to his feet and gave a deep bow. 'Master Shardlake, sir, a pleasure to meet you. Adam Leman, sir.'

I sat down opposite him, while Barak stood looking on.

'Well, Master Leman, I hear my brother in the law, Stephen Bealknap, has employed you as a compurgator.'

Leman nodded. 'I have assisted him.'

'To swear to the good character of men held in the bishop's gaol under benefit of clergy.'

He hesitated. I noticed his eyes were watery, and his nose a mess of broken red veins. A drunk, probably unable to run his stall properly and in need of extra cash for strong beer.

'Master Bealknap is kind enough to pay me a retainer,' he said cautiously. 'Perhaps I do not know all the gentlemen whose character I swear to as well as I might, but I feel I am doing a Christian service, sir. The conditions in the bishop's gaol-'

I cut through his nonsense. 'You pretend to know people you have never heard of and pervert the course of justice for money. We both know that. Now, have a beer.' I nodded at Barak, who fetched a jug from the cold cupboard. Leman coughed, then sat up in his chair.

'Bealknap hasn't paid me, sir. I said I'd do no more work for him till he did. He's the meanest man alive, he'd skin a flea for its hide and tallow. Makes a point of never paying anyone if he can get out of it.' He nodded self-righteously. 'Well, now it's caught up with the bastard. I've told your man I'll help you nail him and I shall. Thank you.' He took a cup from Barak and gulped noisily. 'That's good in this hot weather.' He looked at me sharply. 'You can give me immunity?'

I ever preferred a rogue who would come to the point. I nodded. 'In exchange for an affidavit to go before the disciplinary authorities of Lincoln's Inn. But once we've completed the affidavit I want you to come with me and tell Bealknap to his face what damage you can do him. Will you do that?'