C. Sansom - Dark Fire

'Only for those that can pay.'

'We'll pay,' I said. 'Take me back to the gaoler.'

The turnkey locked the door again and, motioning the others to remain behind, I followed him back up to the gaoler's room, a comfortable chamber with a feather bed and a wall hanging. The gaoler was sitting at his table, a worried look on his hard features.

'Is she dead yet, Williams'' he asked.

'No, master.'

'Listen,' I said. 'We want to get her out of these foul airs. I'll pay for a good room.'

The gaoler shook his head. 'Moving her will only spread the humours of her fever round the gaol. And the judge's order was she was to stay in the Hole.'

'I'll answer to Forbizer. I have an apothecary who may be able to help her. He might be able to cure her fever. Then it won't spread, eh?'

He still looked doubtful. 'Who's to carry her up there! I'm not going near, and nor are my men.'

I hesitated a moment, then said, 'We will. There must be some back stairs we could use.'

He pursed his lips. 'Two shillings a night's the price. I'll show you where to take her.' Even in his terror of gaol fever the man's greed glinted in his sharp eyes.

'Agreed,' I said, though the price was outrageous. I reached for my purse and held up a gold half angel. 'For five nights. That'll cover her till she goes before Forbizer.'

That seemed to decide the wretch. He nodded, holding out his hand for the coin.

IT WAS A NIGHTMARE climb, up four floors from the Hole to the tower room my half angel had bought. The gaoler walked well ahead with a candle while Barak and Joseph carried the unconscious Elizabeth between them. I clambered up behind as they half-dragged, half-carried the poor girl up the stone steps, the outlines of Elizabeth's and Barak's two shaven heads making weird shadows on the walls. A vile smell came from poor Elizabeth's unwashed, feverish body. As I climbed painfully upwards, I realized my strength was ebbing again – I could not possibly make it to the well that night.

We were shown into a light, airy room with a good bed with a blanket, a ewer of water on a table and a large window which though barred was at least open; a gentleman prisoner's room. Joseph and Barak laid Elizabeth on the bed. She seemed unaware of her removal, only stirring slightly and moaning, Then she muttered a name. 'Sarah,' she muttered. 'Oh, Sarah.'

Joseph bit his lip. 'The girl who went to Bedlam,' he whispered.

I nodded. 'Maybe if she recovers she will speak at last, tell us why the girl upset her so. Tell us everything she has chosen to keep to herself while we are distracted with worry,' I added with sudden bitterness.

Joseph looked at me, then said softly, 'I become angered with her too.'

I sighed. 'My apothecary should be here soon.'

'You are generous, sir,' Joseph said. 'How much-'

I raised a hand. 'No, Joseph, we can discuss that later. Barak, you look exhausted. You should go home.'

'I can stay,' he said. 'I'd like to see whether the Old Moor can help her.'

It was strange, even touching, to see how absorbed he had become in Elizabeth's fate. Yet I did not want him here when Guy came; I had secreted the pewter jar of Greek Fire in a pocket of my robe. 'No, go,' I said sharply. 'I don't want you risking gaol fever, I need you fit.'

He nodded reluctantly and went out. I clutched at the jar of Greek Fire as Joseph and I stood in silence, listening to Elizabeth's fevered breathing.

GUY ARRIVED an hour later. The gaoler himself fetched him up, goggling at his brown face till I bade him sharply to be gone. I introduced Guy to Joseph, who likewise stared at him in surprise, although Guy affected not to notice.

'So this is the poor girl whose travails have worried you so,' he said to me.

'Yes.' I told him of the onset of her fever. He looked at her for a long moment.

'I don't think it's gaol fever,' he said at length. 'The fever would be higher. I'm not sure what it is. It would help to see her urine. Does she have a pisspot?'

'She was left to piss on the straw in the Hole.'

He shook his head. 'Then I will give her something to try and stop her burning up, and it would be good if she were to be washed and that filthy dress taken off her.'

Joseph blushed. 'Sir, it would hardly be proper for me to see her unclothed-'

'I will do it, if you like. In my trade a naked body is hardly a new sight. Could you buy her a shift tomorrow and bring it here?'

'Yes. Yes, I will.'

As we watched Elizabeth stirred and made a little moan, then lay back again. Guy shook his head. 'What pain and anger there are in that face, even while her mind sleeps.'

'Is there any hope, sir?' Joseph asked.

'I do not know,' Guy said frankly. 'This may be one of those cases where much depends on the sufferer's will to live.'

'Then she will surely die,' he said.

'Come, we do not know that.' Guy smiled gently. 'And now, if you will leave me, I will wash her.'

Joseph and I waited outside while Guy carried out his task. 'I cannot help being angered, sir,' he said. 'But I love her; for all she has put me through I still love her.'

I touched his shoulder. 'That is very plain, Joseph.'

At length Guy called us back. He had laid Elizabeth under the blanket and lit some sort of oil in a lamp, which made a sweet smell in the room. A cloth, black with dirt, floated in the ewer. Elizabeth's face was clean, the first time I had seen it so.

'She is pretty,' I said. 'How sad she should come to this.'

'Sad whether she is pretty or ugly,' Guy said.

'What is that smell?' Joseph asked.

'An infusion of lemons.' Guy smiled. 'Sometimes when a soul is in pain a foul or cruel environment can drive it deeper into darkness. Thus light and cleanliness and soft airs may help lift her spirit, perhaps even reach it while she lies unconscious.' He shrugged self-deprecatingly. 'So I think, at least.' He looked at us. 'You both look exhausted. You should sleep. I will stay with her till morning if you wish.'

'I could not ask that-' Joseph protested.

'Please, I would be happy to.'

'I would stay a little too,' I said. 'I have something else I wish to discuss with you.'

Joseph left, with fulsome thanks, his weary footsteps clattering down the stairs.

'Thank you for this, Guy.' I said.

'It is all right. I confess I am intrigued. This is a strange condition.'

'I have something even more intriguing,' I said. I reached into my pocket and took out the cloth with the pewter jar in it. 'This, I believe, is Greek Fire. No one else knows I have it.' I unwrapped the jar and laid it on the table, first putting the oil lamp on the floor. 'Don't bring the candle near, Guy. I fear it may take light.'

He examined the stuff as best he could in the weak light, rubbing the dark liquid between his fingers, sniffing it with a look of distaste. 'So this is it,' he said. 'Dark Fire.' I had never seen his face more serious.

'Ay. I wondered how fire could be dark; I see now they meant the liquid was black.'

'Perhaps they also meant the darkness it could bring to men's lives.'

'Perhaps. They called it the devil's tears as well in the old books.' I told him how I had found it at Smithfield, how narrowly it had escaped Rich's clutches. 'Take it. Will you examine it tomorrow?'

'On the terms I gave you. I will do nothing to help Cromwell use it.'

'Agreed.'

He shook his head. 'You would be in serious trouble, Matthew, if he were to find you had given this to me instead of to him.'

I smiled nervously. 'Then we must be sure he does not find out.' I shook my head. 'Yet I cannot help thinking-' I hesitated – 'Cromwell has done many evil things. But at least he has a vision of a Christian commonwealth, while Norfolk would take England back to superstition and darkness.'