Paul Doherty - The Book of Fires

Athelstan grasped her proffered hand and they left the bedchamber, going down to the buttery, where Sir John was in deep conversation with Sir Henry and Lady Rohesia. They welcomed Athelstan and Lady Anne, who joined them around the well-polished oval table. Morning ale, cuts of chicken and pancakes were served. The conversation was desultory after expressions of shock at the attack the previous evening. Lady Anne pointed out, and they all agreed, how this part of the city was ideal for such an assault with its twisting runnels and narrow lanes. The discussion then moved to the growing crisis in the city: the plotting of the Great Community of the Realm. On this, Sir Henry proved obdurate, denouncing the rebels, insisting that Gaunt would ruthlessly crush all insurgents in the city and the surrounding shires. Athelstan gently guided the conversation on to the threats Sir Walter had received a year ago and asked to see the actual messages. Sir Henry hurried off to his chancery chamber and brought back a clutch of parchments. They were dark and ragged, the ink rather faded but the letters were well formed. The message was the same time and again. The specific warning clear and stark: ‘As I and ours did burn, so shall ye and yours.’

‘Do you think that’s the Upright Men?’ Sir Henry asked plaintively.

‘I don’t know,’ Athelstan replied, handing them back. ‘They certainly have the ring of a proclamation about them. Of course, you supply Gaunt with powder for his culverins and cannon. The Upright Men would resent that.’

‘So when the great revolt comes,’ Sir Cranston asked, ‘have you, Sir Henry, like other merchants, contributed secretly to the coffers of the Upright Men, a sort of tribute so that when the Day of Slaughter dawns you and yours will be safe?’

‘Never!’ Sir Henry’s reply was almost a shout. ‘Oh, I know about the Great Community of the Realm, their leaders and their chants. God knows what my brother truly thought! He was, in all things, secretive, but you are correct – few mansions will be safe.’ Sir Henry rose and closed the buttery door. ‘Buckholt,’ he continued, returning to his seat, ‘is a most loyal steward – well, he was to Sir Walter. I am not sure whether I will retain him, and one of my reasons for that is Buckholt’s support for the Great Community of the Realm, his open admiration for the Upright Men. I know that from the chatter of the servants, who,’ he took a deep breath, ‘sing his doggerel chants. So, to answer your question, Sir John, when and if such a treasonous revolt occurs, I shall hire mercenaries – the very best – to defend Firecrest Manor.’

‘As shall I,’ Lady Anne declared sharply.

‘Nonsense!’ Sir Henry blustered. ‘My brother always maintained, and he had his informers, that you, Lady Anne, your house and your retainers would be regarded as sacrosanct by the rebel leaders, Jack Straw and Wat Tyler. You do such good work in the prisons. You have helped the families of those whom Gaunt has arrested and executed. Sir Walter believed that when the revolt breaks out your house will be safer than the Tower or Westminster Abbey.’

Lady Anne blushed and lowered her head.

‘Our situation is different,’ Sir Henry continued. ‘I find it difficult to sift friend from foe. Last night,’ he glanced quickly at the closed door, ‘Edward Garman, prison chaplain at Newgate during Lady Isolda’s imprisonment there? We have heard rumours that Garman is very close to the Upright Men. Tongues wag and gossips chatter how Garman may have even been involved in the escape of rebels from Newgate.’

‘True.’ Sir John, who had been strangely quiet, broke from his own reverie. ‘Very true,’ he repeated. ‘I studied Garman last night – he certainly stirred memories. Garman has acquired a certain reputation delivering sermons and homilies very similar to those of the hedge priest John Ball. Garman talks of a Commonwealth, of a “ Bonum Commune ” – a “Common Good”. He has shown great partiality to any Upright Men seized and imprisoned by Gaunt’s agents.’ Cranston grinned at Athelstan. ‘But I’ve heard other priests preach the same and, in the end, is that so wrong? To want to live in peace and justice?’ Sir John blinked, staring down the table. ‘Remember that quotation from the Book of Micah, how does it go? “Three things I have asked of thee, says the Lord: to love tenderly, to act justly and to walk humbly with your God.”’ Cranston’s words created an uncomfortable silence.

‘It’s one thing to preach Christ,’ Lady Anne murmured, ‘but,’ she gestured at Turgot standing behind her, ‘when we visit Newgate we also hear rumours. Garman just doesn’t preach, he plots and, Sir John, the revolt is coming. Newgate will be stormed. I am sure the royal council realize that. The prison will be seized and all its malefactors allowed to join the gangs. Priests like Garman should be warned.’

‘And he has been,’ Cranston replied. ‘But Garman is a cleric, subject to Church law, and we must have proof of conspiracy to treason.’ He spread his hands. ‘The worst we can do is remove him, but on what grounds? He has proven to be a devoted pastor. The Bishop of London could replace him but not many priests, if any, would want such a benefice, whilst a replacement could be worse in every way …’

Lord Henry began to question Cranston about city politics. Athelstan sat silent. He knew the coroner was correct. Many village priests, as well as those who worked amongst the poor, were openly espousing the Upright Men as the only possible cure for the kingdom’s ills, yet that wasn’t relevant now.

‘Vanner!’ Athelstan’s exclamation silenced the discussion. ‘Vanner has apparently fled, for whatever reason. If he is alive, he is a fugitive, a man sliding through the shadows fearful of capture. Let us say Vanner is the Ignifer – could he fashion and prepare Greek fire?’

‘He may have stolen “The Book of Fires”,’ Sir Henry countered, ‘but …’

‘I wager Vanner was not involved in the manufacture of cannon, culverins and powder?’ Athelstan asked.

Sir Henry nodded in agreement.

‘Even if he had “The Book of Fires”,’ Athelstan continued, ‘how can he, a clerk, slip through the streets of London dealing out death whenever, wherever he wishes? Sir Henry, I understand there is a hierarchy of strengths when it comes to Greek fire?’

‘Yes, Brother. It’s like any other weapon with a range of power and force. You can have a small hand-held crossbow or the powerful Brabantine, which can bring down a mailed knight.’

‘Very good.’ Athelstan rubbed his hands together. ‘So, if Vanner was the Ignifer he would need to buy certain commodities, but how could he do that as a fugitive? Where would he get the money from? He is a soft-handed clerk fleeing for his life. He will need a place to shelter, to sleep and feed. More importantly, as I have said, he has to buy certain items, deal with merchants who could well recognize him. Then there is the problem of storage, of manufacture, and all this brings me to one logical conclusion.’ Athelstan paused as he reflected on what he just said. ‘Impossible,’ he breathed.

‘Brother?’ Lady Anne asked. ‘What is impossible?’

‘I suspect, indeed I am sure that Vanner is not the Ignifer. In fact, he is dead, and has been for many days, even before Lady Isolda was executed.’

‘Dead?’ Sir Henry queried.

‘To be more precise murdered but where, how and by whom I cannot say. Sir Henry, where are Vanner’s papers, his manuscripts?’

‘Like Lady Isolda’s, they were destroyed. Sutler never established who did that.’

‘But he suspected Lady Isolda?’

‘I think so.’

‘And I will need to examine Sir Walter’s papers.’