'Was anyone else hurt?'

'A few have burns and plenty more are homeless. The Gristwoods' house is a pile of ashes. Goodwife Gristwood will have no home to come back to.'

'No. Poor old creature.' I paused. 'Well, now I've seen it. That was Greek Fire, wasn't it?'

'Yes, I recognized the smell as the fire started. Those bastards must have been waiting in the parlour till we were trapped upstairs. They must have coated the walls with the stuff, set light to it, then got out the window.' He sat down on the bed. 'Jesu, the terror when I saw it. It was just like at the wharf, the whole place alive with red fire in a second. The same thick black smoke.' He frowned. 'Why try to kill us in that way? They could have surprised us and struck us down as they did Bathsheba and her brother.'

'To show Lord Cromwell they had Greek Fire.'

'That they could make and use it at will.'

'Yes. That was what they wanted him to think.' I looked at him again. 'Thank you, Barak. I would not have got out of that house without you. For a moment there I could not move from fear.'

'I know.' He grinned. 'I thought I might have to kick your arse downstairs.'

'How did you get us here?'

'I grabbed a horse and cart that had been used to bring water and got you and the girl on it, God knows how. I was afraid we'd be arrested or slain on the spot. I couldn't think where to go, then I remembered your apothecary lived nearby. It was only a few minutes' drive.'

I nodded. His quick thinking had saved us from arrest. He stood smiling, pleased with his success.

'How is the girl?' he asked.

'Like to die, Guy said. Are you all right?'

He fingered his talisman, then winced suddenly. 'I got burned on the shoulder as I went through the front door.'

There was a knock and Guy entered. He looked between us. 'The girl is awake,' he said quietly. 'She wants to speak to you.' He took a deep breath. 'I don't think she can last long.'

'Can you get up?' Barak asked me. I nodded and rose painfully from the bed, coughing again. Every muscle seemed to howl in protest.

Guy led us into a little room where Bathsheba lay on a bed, her eyes closed. Her breathing was shallow and she was deathly pale, the colour leached from her face. The whiteness of her skin contrasted with the vivid red spots on the bandage swathing her lower body. Guy had washed her face but her hair was still matted with blood. For a moment I felt giddy.

'I've given her something to ease the pain,' Guy said. 'She is very sleepy.' He touched Bathsheba gently on the shoulder and her eyes flickered open.

'Mistress Green, I have brought them as you asked.'

Bathsheba stared at us. She said something, her voice so faint I could not hear. I took a stool and sat beside her. She turned painfully and looked at me.

'They would have killed you too,' she whispered.

'Yes, they would.'

'I was going to tell you everything and throw myself on Lord Cromwell's mercy. But they were waiting for us, poor George and me. They rushed in at us, lashing with their swords. That man with the scarred face, he struck me in the stomach.' She shuddered. 'They left us for dead, said they would give the hunchback lawyer a spectacular death when he arrived.' She leaned back, exhausted with the effort of speaking.

'How did they know you were there?' I asked gently.

'It must have been Madam Neller, she must have told them. She'd do anything for gold.'

'She will pay for that.'

She winced with pain, then turned again to me and spoke rapidly. 'I want to tell you what Michael said to me. If it will help you find them.'

I tried to smile. 'Go on. You are safe now.'

'Those last weeks before he was killed Michael was afraid, terrified. He said he was involved in a scheme, something he and his brother thought could make them rich. It involved some papers he had at his house. He said he was afraid for their safety.'

'Madam Neller said your brother had been searching there.'

'Yes.' She winced with pain. 'He thought if he could find them, perhaps Lord Cromwell would help us. But they'll all be burned to cinders now.'

'I already have the papers, Bathsheba. Except for one that is missing. A formula. Did Michael say anything about that?'

'No. Only that he feared the people they were working with. He feared they would be killed. They were working to bring down Lord Cromwell.'

'But – but I thought he was working with Cromwell. He had something the earl wanted badly.'

'No. No, the scheme was against the earl.'

I stared at her. It made no sense. She coughed again, and a little watery fluid dribbled down her chin. She winced, then looked at me again. 'We were going to have a child. Michael talked of us escaping the country with his brother, going to Scotland or France and starting afresh. But then he was killed. That man last night, he killed my baby when he stabbed me.'

I reached out and took her hand. It was as light and thin as a bird's foot. 'I am sorry.'

'What do our lives matter?' she asked bitterly. 'What are any of us but pawns in the schemes of the great?' She shook her head in despair, then coughed again and closed her eyes. Guy stepped forward and took her other hand gently.

'Bathsheba,' he said quietly. 'I fear you are like to die. I am an ordained priest. Will you repent of your sins, acknowledge Christ as your Saviour?'

She did not reply. Guy pressed her hand harder. 'Bathsheba. You are about to face your Maker. Will you acknowledge Him?'

Barak leaned forward, put a finger to the pulse in the girl's neck. 'She's gone,' he said quietly.

Guy knelt by the bed and began praying softly in Latin.

'What good's that going to do?' Barak asked harshly. I rose and took his arm, leading him from the room. We returned to my chamber and I sat back on the bed, exhausted.

'Poor bitch,' Barak said. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean any disrespect to the Moor.' He ran a hand through what was left of his hair. 'What in heaven's name did she mean, Michael was involved in a plot against Lord Cromwell?'

'I don't know. All this time we've assumed the person who took the formula stole it for reasons of profit, perhaps to sell to a foreign power.'

'Ay. But you've doubted whether there was a formula at all.'

'Yes. I wondered if the whole thing could have been a fraud on Cromwell, but that something went wrong and the rogues fell out.'

'But we know Greek Fire is real.'

I clenched my fists. 'There are still things that don't add up. Toky's involvement from the beginning, investigating that Polish stuff months before the Gristwoods went to Cromwell. Why the delay? And there are other things-'

I broke off as Guy entered, carrying a bowl of water and some cloths. There was an awkward silence for a moment. 'I must dress your arm, Matthew,' he said. 'You should rest here at least a day before you go abroad again.'

I remembered Marchamount and Bealknap. 'I can't.' We had lost half a day, there were only five days left now. 'I must go to Lincoln's Inn.'

He shook his head. 'You will make yourself ill.'

I sat up painfully. 'Will you dress my arm? Then I must

'I've a burn on my shoulder,' Barak said. 'It stings horribly. Could you look at that too?'

Guy nodded. Barak took off his shirt, revealing a muscular torso boasting a number of scars from old knife thrusts. One shoulder was red and raw, the skin peeling. As Guy examined it he noticed the golden symbol hanging from its chain.

'What's that?' he asked.

'It's called a mezzah. An old Jewish symbol. You were right before when you said my name was Jewish.'

Guy nodded. 'Mezuzah is the full name. The Jews used to fix them on their doors with a scroll from the Torah inside. To welcome visitors. I remember them from my boyhood in Granada.'