Josse went to stand beside him. ‘Greek fire, you said?’ He was intrigued.
‘Yes. It is an invention of the Byzantines. They use it as a weapon, and it is a fearsome, terrifying one for, although when inert it has the appearance of a harmless lump of mud, it leaps into life when water touches it. Imagine, Josse, what that flame could do when stuck like a second skin to a man’s body.’
Josse preferred not to imagine that. ‘Fearsome,’ he muttered. ‘Aye, that it is.’
‘I have never used it to harm a living being,’ Dee said. ‘But I find that, as a light on a moonless night, it is incomparable. I have added a few ingredients of my own to the Byzantines’ formula,’ he went on, eagerness creeping into his voice, ‘and this modified fire suits me well.’ He waved a hand over the iron cup, and the flame quietened further. ‘Now. To business.’
He turned to face Josse, tucking his hands away in his wide sleeves; fleetingly, Josse was reminded of the Abbess. ‘What did you wish to say to me that must not be overheard?’ he asked.
The Magister studied him for a few moments. Then he said, ‘I admired your restraint when you asked your question of Prince John earlier. You merely wondered how he came to know of Sidonius. It displayed wise forbearance, if I may say so, not to have demanded what was really in your mind.’
‘And what was that?’
‘Why, how he knew about the Eye of Jerusalem, of course. You surely realise that it is the jewel he is after?’
With a long sigh, Josse said, ‘Aye. It does not take any great intelligence to work that out, when it is commonly said that the Prince is trying to raise cash and support against the likelihood that he becomes king.’ He scowled at Dee. ‘And I reckon I already know how he found out about the Eye.’ He hesitated for an instant — was it wise to hurl accusations at a sorcerer, out in a lonely valley with nobody about and a magical fire glowing steadily? But his anger burned more hotly than the fire; he leaned closer to Dee and said, ‘You told him about it. You use the scrying glass that your forefathers passed down to you — aye, I know about it, my own father used to tell us tales of the first two King Williams and their court magician — and you saw Galbertius Sidonius carrying the Eye into England, looking for me.’ He paused for breath, then went on, ‘That was why the Prince came seeking me out at New Winnowlands. When I said I had never heard of Sidonius, you knew I spoke the truth, and so you turned the search elsewhere. And, eventually, you came here.’
He heard the echo of his final words on the still air. The intensity of the Magister’s stare was disconcerting; for the first time, Josse felt the stirrings of fear.
But, as if he were aware of it, Dee put out a hand and lightly touched Josse’s arm. ‘I mean you no harm, Josse,’ he said. ‘You are an honest man, and I have no quarrel with one such as you. Indeed, I — But no.’ Briefly he shook his head, as if casting aside whatever he had been about to say. ‘In essence, you guess rightly,’ he said instead. ‘Although we had heard tell of a magical stone of power brought home from Outremer, there are many such tales and few are worth credence. However, the story of Geoffroi d’Acquin and the Eye of Jerusalem did seem particularly persistent, and the Prince suggested that inquiries should be made. Even the best of his spies, I’m afraid, came quickly to a dead end.’ He paused. Then added, compassion in his voice, ‘Literally to a dead end, I fear, in one instance. We are almost certain that the dead body that you told me about, the one discovered here in the Vale, was that of one of the Prince’s agents.’
‘The rotting corpse with the knife stuck in his ribs?’ As soon as he had said the words, Josse regretted their bluntness. ‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘I speak of a rotting corpse, whereas you, Magister, perhaps knew the living man, and regret his death.’
‘I knew him, yes, a little,’ Dee said. ‘And I do indeed regret his death, both for its brutality and for the fact that it was a sheer waste.’
‘A waste?’
‘The young man did not stand a chance,’ Dee murmured. Then, once again, he stared into Josse’s eyes. Instantly Josse had the sense that what they had just been speaking of was now obscured by a cloud of smoke; although he tried, he could not remember what it was.
Dee said firmly, ‘But we were discussing your father. I was explaining how it was known that Geoffroi set out from Outremer to head for home, but nobody seemed to be able to say whether or not he made it. Except that there was you.’ The dark eyes held Josse’s.
‘Me?’
‘Yes. Your name was known — are you not a King’s man? Did not Richard give you a task to do, and award you the manor of New Winnowlands in gratitude?’
‘Aye, that he did.’
‘So. Josse d’Acquin, who came from northern France. You see how the assumption was made, that you could very well be of Geoffroi’s line?’
‘Aye. Which led to the conclusion that he must have got home, married, and had a son.’
‘Exactly!’ The Magister looked pleased. ‘So, assuming that Geoffroi returned to Acquin, we further guessed that he brought the Eye with him. And then, when you came to see me that day, you told me that your father was dead.’
‘You already knew.’
‘Did I?’ There was a definite twinkle in Dee’s eyes. ‘Perhaps I did. As I was saying, knowing that your father was dead, it was natural to reason that the man you call Sidonius would bring the Eye to you, his heir, and so-’
‘You did know that Father was dead!’ Josse interrupted. ‘You came to New Winnowlands to ask me about Sidonius several days before I told you! You would only have done so had you known full well that I now hold the Acquin title!’
‘Very well, then.’ Dee sounded amused. ‘Yes, I knew of your father’s summertime death, and I regret to say that I guided the Prince’s steps to you.’ Sounding serious now, he went on, ‘I serve the Crown, as John Dee has always done and will always do, as long as his services are required. King Richard, however, has no time for my talents; his brother is a different matter. My master’s need, Josse, is for wealth; as his loyal servant, is it not my duty to assist him in its acquisition?’
‘Perhaps.’ Josse was not going to be seduced into an unreserved agreement. ‘But what if Prince John acquiring wealth means stealing things from other people?’
Dee made no answer for a moment. Then, eyeing Josse steadily, he said, ‘There you have it. My dilemma, as bluntly expressed as any man could wish.’
Josse, wanting to be entirely sure that he had understood, said slowly, ‘Let me be clear about this, Magister. You knew of the Eye, you told the Prince it was valuable, you tracked it to the house of Acquin, you brought the Prince to me. You aim to help steal it from me, but the problem is that I do not have it.’
‘I know that, Josse. I can see full well that the Eye has not come to you. But that is not the problem, for I assure you that the stone is on its way. My problem is that I no longer believe the Prince should relieve you of it.’
Stunned, Josse could only manage, ‘Why not?’
‘Because you are an honest man,’ Dee replied simply, ‘like your father before you. And as powerful a tool as the Eye of Jerusalem is will ever be safer in the hands of those whose moral fibre is straight, strong and incorruptible.’
‘I don’t know about all that,’ Josse began. But then, realising what Dee’s comment implied about his master the Prince, he stopped. Confused, vaguely uneasy, he did not know what to say.
‘I see much that the Prince is not aware that I see,’ Dee said, his voice taking on a hypnotic tone. ‘I see that he is clever — oh, yes, highly intelligent — and that he has some fine qualities. But I also see what seethes below the surface; he has all the energy and thrust of his redoubtable parents but, perhaps typically of a last-born, he has a strong sense of survival. He is able, I believe, to put aside what he knows to be right and best for the majority in favour of what is right and best for himself. He is not’ — now the voice spoke out clearly — ‘the right guardian of the Eye. And you are.’