Fire Catcher (19 page)

Chapter 53

‘There’s no treasure . . .’ began Charlie. But The Oracle moved to stand by his system of wires. He looped a finger through. Before they could stop him a loud bell could be heard echoing in the distance.

Charlie and Lily could only watch helplessly as the burly guard lumbered down the corridor towards them.

‘This is no treasure for you,’ repeated Charlie, keeping his voice even. ‘Worthless papers only. I swear it.’

‘Even so,’ replied the Oracle. ‘Wilkes should rather see for himself.’

The guard was in the cave now and The Oracle gestured towards Charlie.

‘Take the thief taker’s key,’ he said.

Charlie stepped quickly towards Lily. He placed a careful hand on her waist.

‘Let the girl go,’ he reasoned, working a hand under Lily’s bodice. ‘She has nothing of value to you.’ Charlie’s fingers touched the blade hidden in her skirts.

The Oracle shook his head sadly.

‘Women talk, Charlie, as well you know. Mr Jenks. Take the girl. Kill her quietly. You know how noise unsettles Wilkes.’

In a flash Charlie was behind The Oracle holding a knife to his throat.

The guard’s eyes widened in surprise.

‘Let the girl go,’ Charlie nodded to the guard. ‘Or he dies.’

The guard looked uncertainly at The Oracle.

‘I searched him, I swear it,’ he managed.

The Oracle’s black lips were a straight line of rage.

‘But you didn’t search the girl,’ he said, twitching against the blade at his throat.

The Oracle let out a cold chuckle. His guard moved uncertainly in front of Lily, unsure of how to protect his master.

‘I knew you were fast, Charlie Tuesday,’ said The Oracle. ‘But I’d forgotten you were a sneak thief. And how foolish of me to forget a gypsy rat will always carry a knife.’

Charlie held the blade a little tighter and he stiffened.

‘Let her go,’ The Oracle muttered to the guard. ‘But you pay for her escape, Charlie Tuesday,’ he added. ‘Wilkes will be sure of it.’

The guard had not moved from his position in front of Lily. The Oracle gave a little twitching nod.

‘You may stand aside,’ he said, annoyed. ‘Let the girl leave.’

Instead the guard fell slowly forwards, an expression of frozen shock on his scarred face. As he hit the dirt floor Charlie saw a familiar knife in his back.

Lily knelt by the body, wrenched her blade free and looked up at the Oracle.

‘Gypsy rats carry more than one knife,’ she said. Her eyes switched to Charlie.

‘We both go,’ said Lily. Then she stood and ran.

Charlie hesitated for a shocked second. Then he pushed The Oracle aside and ran out after her.

Chapter 54

Blackstone held the flask up to candlelight. The alchemy chamber was small and dark. A chemical taint stained the air.

‘Very beautiful,’ he said. ‘How do you make the crystals grow that way?’

‘Quicksilver,’ said the alchemist. ‘And aqua fortis.’ He was a handsome-featured man who seemed out of place in a secret underground chamber.

Blackstone moved closer. The alchemist was tall and muscular. But his height and size dwindled beside the other man’s huge bulk.

‘You’re one of the cleverest men in England,’ said Blackstone. ‘Yet no one knows you work down here, beneath the Palace. In secret.’ He sounded the last two words pointedly.

The alchemist pulled his long black coat a little tighter, as though Blackstone gave off cool air.

‘I’m in the King’s employ,’ replied the alchemist carefully. ‘He would rather I work in secret.’

Blackstone raised his eyebrows and returned the flask to the bench. The alchemist watched him uncomfortably. The array of metals and potions, crucibles and invented tools seemed to close around them.

‘You don’t like me down here,’ observed Blackstone. ‘But you must accept my authority.’ He waved a royal sealed paper smugly. ‘She gives me permission.’

The alchemist stared at the name. He hadn’t believed it until now.

‘She gained me entry to the secret tunnel which leads to this room,’ continued Blackstone. ‘And asks you supply as much lead as I ask for.’

The alchemist ran a hand through his thick wavy hair. He looked as though he was fighting back a retort. Blackstone was looking around the alchemy chamber now, taking in the expensive equipment.

‘The King gives you ample funds then,’ said Blackstone. He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. ‘If you make baubles from mercury.’

‘It’s important work,’ said the alchemist. ‘We show that metals have life. Can grow.’

‘You’re sitting very pretty down here,’ continued Blackstone. ‘No one sees you come in or out. I should imagine you have access to anything you wish.’

‘The King likes me near so I might report my findings.’

Blackstone’s ice-blue eyes fixed on him and he stopped talking. The alchemic chamber suddenly felt claustrophobic.

‘I remember this room,’ said Blackstone moving to the damp walls. His hand traced the remains of two heavy bolts. ‘I am all amazement His Majesty should wish alchemy here. Perhaps he was too young to know.’

The alchemist fingered a vial of silver beads nervously.

‘You’re a clever man,’ said Blackstone moving back towards him. ‘You’ll have deduced things about this room. Underground. Hidden.’ His eyes landed on the alchemist again. ‘The old King certainly knew.’

‘I had some . . . tools cleared away,’ said the alchemist, his face twisting at the memory. ‘Ugly, terrible things.’

‘You didn’t think to modify them for your purposes?’ asked Blackstone. ‘Good strong metal they were made from.’

‘No,’ said the alchemist sounding appalled. ‘I didn’t want anything of that nature here.’

Blackstone was regarding the stone wall again. His hands shifted across to a pattern etched on it. He stopped and stared.

‘The Tree of Life?’

‘It’s the Kaballah,’ said the alchemist. ‘A mystic understanding of . . .’

‘I know what it is,’ snapped Blackstone.

He strode back to the workbench and fingered a crucible.

‘You’re broad-minded,’ he said. ‘Men like you can afford to be. Men like me, however . . .’ Blackstone let the comment hang, his gaze sweeping around the room. ‘We no longer have that luxury.’

Chapter 55

Charlie and Lily barrelled back past the fruit and fish stalls and into the main belly of the Shadow Market.

Behind them The Oracle emerged with a roar. Then he seized a bell pull and gave three great rings.

Lily turned towards the river exit but Charlie grabbed her by the skirts.

‘Not to the river!’ he hissed. ‘You can’t escape a smuggler on water.’

‘Where then?’ asked Lily, swinging desperately to survey the market floor.

Their eyes both fell on the tea-chest rope winch and the donkey.

‘It goes somewhere above,’ said Charlie.

‘To a pack of smugglers!’ protested Lily. ‘They’ll slice our throats before we get out of the tea chest.’

Charlie was calculating their distance from the river. Under Borough Street, he thought, south of St Oleffs.

‘Maybe not,’ he said. ‘It’s possible we’re under Bermondsey Market. Perhaps the Shadow trade supplies the legitimate one. That winch could lead to the trade floor.’

‘You’re sure of that?’

Behind them a bell was ringing. A pack of guards appeared from the meat and fish corridor. The Shadow Market fell to an immediate hush.

‘Not sure at all. But it’s our best chance,’ promised Charlie, grabbing Lily’s hand. ‘We must go now.’

They got to the winch and Charlie shoved Lily inside the crate. Her skirts stuck out and Charlie threw them in behind her.

A few eyes had turned to them now, struggling with the winch.

‘We’re too late,’ said Lily. ‘He comes.’

Charlie turned to see The Oracle had appeared in the main Shadow Market. He was holding up a hand to shield his eyes. All eyes were on him. The market floor was completely silent. In a moment The Oracle had sought out Lily and Charlie. His finger shot out to point.

‘Stop them!’ His husky voice broke the still air. ‘Five guineas dead or alive!’

His words had an immediate effect. Guards by the doorway righted themselves and made for Charlie and Lily. The wider market was in disarray trying to understand what was happening.

‘Keep your hands free of the rope,’ shouted Charlie grabbing for the pulley. He seized and freed the counterweight as Lily wrenched in the last of her skirts. The crate went rolling upwards.

The guards were dodging through stalls now, toppling barrels and piles of fabric in their wake. Behind them The Oracle was running full pelt, his face like thunder.

‘Stop those thieves!’ he shouted.

Smugglers nearer to the winch were trying to understand who The Oracle meant to apprehend, looking in confusion to the unfamiliar dark-blond man pulling at the winch.

Charlie felt the crate seize and his arms burn under a sudden huge load. The counterweight had failed. He gritted his teeth, dug in and pulled with all his might. He could feel the crate jolting. Either Lily was trying to climb the final distance, or she was putting up a fight against a pack of smugglers above.

Charlie looked back desperately. The guards were yards away. Then he remembered the donkey.

In a lightning move Charlie threw the rope around the donkey’s neck and gave the rump a hard slap. The animal bucked and then charged in the direction of the approaching guards.

Darting free of the flying hooves Charlie pulled at the rope. It went suddenly slack. Lily was no longer in the crate. The counterweight had reset itself.

Charlie glanced at the guards who had regrouped themselves after the unexpected donkey charge. Then he wrapped the rope around his wrist and cut it free. The counterweight dropped, sweeping Charlie up the shaft just as the first guard made a grab for him.

He reached the top with a jolt which nearly shook him free from the rope and swung himself feet first through the narrow exit. Hitting the floor at a clumsy thump Charlie rolled, swore, then righted himself.

Lily was staring down at him. She extended a hand and he took it.

‘Thank you,’ he said, pulling himself up. ‘You saved me back there. From The Oracle.’

She smiled. ‘You promised me half the treasure. Where are we?’

Charlie was looking around. Relief flooded through him.

‘We’re at Bermondsey Market,’ he said, taking in the smartly dressed traders. ‘Let’s go before The Oracle’s men get here.’

They emerged on Maid Lane where nearby cattle were gazing warily at the burning city.

‘The Fleet’s not flamed yet,’ said Charlie, looking at the direction of the fire. ‘If we cross the river in the next hour . . .’ There was a clutter of ferries and ships on the water. None were taking passengers south of the river.

‘The Bridge,’ decided Charlie. ‘We can get to London Bridge. Cross the river that way.’

Lily bit her lip nervously.

‘It’s close wooden houses all round the head. If the wind sweeps east we’ll be trapped on a burning bridge.’

Charlie pointed to the squat shape of the Tower of London to the east. ‘All the King’s men will be protecting the Tower. There’ll be firebreaks from London Bridge to Tower Hill.’

His mind was working, charting their route.

‘The Bridge takes us past the laundry houses,’ he added. ‘Where they use lye. Perhaps we may discover something of Blackstone’s alchemy on the way.’

Chapter 56

The King looked up the river. The sumptuous barge was touring them eastwards. London Bridge was on the horizon. The huge waterwheels were chugging slowly.

‘The waterwheels,’ said the King. ‘They should supply water to the whole city. There are pipes from Cornhill water tower from Bishops Gate to Westminster.’

‘The pressure is gone,’ admitted Clarence. ‘Fools dig down into the pipes all over London.’

‘But we have muster points,’ protested the King. ‘The engines alone should be able to use those pipes.’

‘The pipes under London are rotted trunks of elm,’ said Amesbury. ‘They are easy to breach with a spade or a hoe. And there are only five engines in any case. The guilds have been negligent.’

The King was suddenly very sober. He turned to Clarence.

‘You told me the flames wouldn’t go south of Maiden Lane,’ he said. ‘Thames Street has warehouses of pitch and timber.’

‘They hold it back on Thames Street,’ said Clarence. ‘We’ve press-ganged men.’ He pointed. ‘See where the steam rises? They fight the fire there.’

Charles laid down his wine goblet. He gestured for the actors to disperse.

‘What else?’ he said, pinching his forehead.

‘Your Majesty?’ Clarence smiled uncertainly.

‘What else?’ demanded the King. ‘What else is being done?’

‘Firebreaks . . .’ began Clarence. He couldn’t stop himself staring at the devastation.

‘How does it approach the Tower?’ asked the King, thinking of the enormous stores of gunpowder. ‘If a flame was to reach it, it would blow the heart out of England.’

‘The wind doesn’t bluster that way,’ reassured Amesbury.

Charles looked out at the endless abyss of fire.

‘I’ve let them make a puppet king of me,’ he said. ‘Now my city burns.’

A blackened church caught his eye. Weeping people were pulling things from the ruins.

‘Their livestock burned,’ he murmured, looking at the charred remains being removed. ‘Why do they retrieve the bones?’ And then he realised.

‘I had it in writing,’ said the King, his voice thick, ‘that no lives were endangered.’

‘We record only nobles or guildsmen,’ said Clarence. ‘Commoners are not . . .’ He caught the King’s expression and looked away. ‘They weren’t deigned to be of note,’ he mumbled.

The King stood.

‘Land at Somerset steps,’ he said, a steely glint in his eye. ‘We’ll convene Lord Somerset’s house as a war room.’

‘Your Majesty,’ said Clarence, ‘only Parliament can grant authority for such measures.’

‘Parliament told me houses were being pulled down,’ said Charles. ‘There comes a time when a King must act.’

The barge drifted slowly to Somerset steps. Servants began readying the elaborate platforms needed to transport His Majesty’s silver-buckled shoes over the mud.

‘Put out the word that we need men to defend the Palace. Call it from the London Stone,’ said the King.

The boat drifted closer to shore.

‘Take Barbara back to the Palace,’ said Charles. ‘This is no business for women.’

Barbara’s cheeks turned pink.

‘Where shall I say to the courtiers that you have gone?’ she demanded.

The King leapt to shore. ‘I am going,’ he said, ‘to save my city.’