Dark Fire

'You said you might know where it came from,' Barak said, his tone more respectful now.

'I did. We apothecaries are ever on the lookout for new herbs, new concoctions, from the strange parts of the world Englishmen voyage to nowadays. It is the constant topic at the Apothecaries' Hall. A few months ago we heard of a cargo that had been landed at Billingsgate from a ship that had ventured into the Baltic trade, to the lands of endless snow. They brought back a cargo of a colourless liquid they say men drink there. When people tried quaffing it here, as they would beer, it made them very sick. This sounds like the stuff.'

'What happened to the cargo?'

'That I do not know. I think one or two of my brethren went after it as a curiosity, but were told it had been sold. You would need to enquire among the sailors' taverns to find more.'

I nodded thoughtfully. A thick, viscous liquid that burned in a strange way. In some ways it sounded like Greek Fire, but in others quite unlike. The liquid in the monastery had been black, with a strong smell, Kytchyn said, and the flame we had just seen could never have set light to a ship. But what if this stuff was part of the formula, what if it changed its behaviour if other things were added?

'What do you know of alchemy, Guy?' I asked. I took the alchemy books from my satchel and laid them on the table. 'These books are so full of mysteries and jargon I can scarce understand a word.'

He picked one up and leafed through it. 'Alchemy has given itself a bad name. Perhaps worse than it deserves. The alchemists like to keep their trade cloaked in secrecy and fill their books with references only they can understand.' He laughed. 'Some of the old books I think nobody understands.'

'And it impresses people, makes them think there must be a great mystery there to be uncovered.'

Guy nodded. 'But in that they are no worse than some physicians with their ancient remedies and secret formulae. Or lawyers, for that matter: in some courts you plead in old French no ordinary mortal could comprehend.'

There was a bark of laughter from Barak. 'He has you there.'

Guy raised a hand. 'And yet alchemy is part of natural science, the study of the world around us. God has left signs and clues in the world, that by struggling we might come to understand things: cure diseases, grow better crops-'

'Turn lead into gold?' I hesitated. 'Set water on fire?'

'Perhaps. And the task of alchemy, like astrology and medicine for that matter, is to read those clues.'

'As rhinoceros horn is supposed to bring virility, the clue being its resemblance to the male organ. But, Guy, so much of this looking for signatures and correspondences is mere fraud.'

'Yes, it is. I agree that the manner in which alchemists profess secret, arcane knowledge is often no more than a trick to keep their trade inaccessible.'

'So you think, like most, that alchemy's a suspect trade?'

'Not altogether. There are plenty of rogues who claim to have found the philosopher's stone that can turn base metal into gold, but for each one of them there is another who has striven to make real achievements by careful observation, by study of how substances are made up and how they change. How the four elements of earth, air, fire and water interact to make all the things we know. How heat can change one thing into another – wine into aqua vitae, for example.

'And everything comes from the four elements. Earth, air, fire and water. Any new material that appears, like that strange stuff, can be broken down into those essential elements and reconfigured.'

He smiled. 'There is nothing truly new in the world. No new elements, at least. But a good alchemist may, for example, discover by careful observation how to melt down ores in the furnace in such a way as to produce better iron, as they are doing in the Weald now.'

'Or how to make a finer form of pewter,' I said, remembering Goodwife Gristwood's story of Sepultus's failed experiments.

'Exactly. It is usually a matter of separating out some impurity of an earthy nature.' He smiled. 'I am with those thinkers who consider God means us to uncover the secrets of the earth by the slow, sure path of observation rather than mystical formulae in ancient books. Even if they do come up with some strange notions, like the man in Poland who says the earth goes round the sun.'

'Yes.' Something had stirred a memory. 'A furnace, you said. You remind me that metals are forged in furnaces. So alchemists must often work with founders, as they all have furnaces.'

'Of course,' Guy agreed. 'I make do with a fire here to distil my herbs, but to melt ores and metals a furnace would be needed.' He frowned. 'This is a strange discussion, Matthew. What has it to do with this – ' he glanced at Barak – 'this case of yours?'

'I'm not sure.' I frowned in thought. 'A founder would also be needed to make, say, a large metal tank with a pump and pipes.'

'Yes. Alchemists often have arrangements with the Lothbury founders to assist them. It has to be someone they trust, of course, if they're to share their secrets.'

'Guy,' I said excitedly, 'do you remember that young founder I met last week? Would he know who might work with alchemists up there? And perhaps one who works with the City on the water conduits, works with pumps and valves?'

He hesitated. 'Perhaps. That would be a specialized trade. But Matthew, if this is a dangerous matter, I would not involve him.'

'Lord Cromwell may command it,' Barak said.

Guy turned to him. 'He may command what he wishes,' he said imperturbably.

Barak glared. 'Yes, my Spanish friend, he may.'

'God's death, Barak, be quiet,' I said angrily. 'I understand, Guy. I can find what I need as easily from the City records, see whom they employ on the conduits.'

Guy nodded. 'I would prefer that.' He turned back to Barak. 'And by the way, sir, I am not Spanish. I come from Granada, which was conquered by Spain fifty years ago. My parents were Moslems who were expelled from Spain by Ferdinand and Isabella. Along with the Jews – yours is a Jewish name, I think.'

Barak reddened. 'I am English, apothecary.'

'Are you now?' He raised an eyebrow. 'Ah well. Thank you for your understanding, Matthew. I wish you safe in your quest.' He shook my hand, then looked at me wryly. 'Your eyes are alight, Matthew, alight with the prospect of progress in your chase. May I keep those books, by the way? I should be interested to look through them.'

'Please do.'

'If you want to talk more, I am here.' He gave Barak a cold look. 'So long as foreigners are allowed to remain.'

***

OUTSIDE I TURNED angrily on Barak. 'Well done,' I said. 'Your manners really helped our enquiries.'

He shrugged. 'Insolent old Moor. God's teeth, he's an ugly creature.'

'And you,' I snapped, 'you are what you call everyone else – an arsehole.'

Barak only grinned.

'Since you probably lost us Guy's help in finding the founder, you can go up to the Guildhall and ask for details of all the founders they employ on the conduits. I am going to Wolf's Lane to ask Goodwife Gristwood a few more questions. If Michael and Sepultus were visiting the founders, she must have known about it.'

'I thought we were going across to Southwark to find the whore.'

'I'll meet you at the Steelyard steps in an hour and a half. Who knows, I may even have time to grab a pie from a stall.' I wiped sweat from my brow, the heat of the afternoon was punishing. Barak hesitated and I wondered if he were going to argue: I felt so angry I would almost have welcomed it. But he only smiled, mounted his black mare and cantered away.