‘Hey ho, the smith!’ breezed the pedlar. ‘And I heard you’ve need o’ my wares?’
‘Yes, Wagge Longface. I’ve been much troubled by lice and fleas in this new house near the woods. I’ll thank you for a half-peck of your finest brimstone.’
‘So much? And it’ll take long in the finding, God’s truth on it.’
‘Go to it, old man. Mark you, I pay well for the best.’
The charcoal was easy. Good willow cut from beside the River Dene and fed to the burner by Daw, all believing that this was yet another of his Moorish tricks, perhaps to achieve more fierce heat at the forge.
When it came, the sulphur was of reasonable quality, a thick-smelling dull-yellow grit but with inclusions. It would need purifying.
The hard part was going to be the hsiao. Where was he to find camel stables here? And when he had it, there was the preparation process – the cauldrons, barrels and pipes – these had to be gathered together without raising suspicion.
He needed an accomplice. One who not only understood what he was going to do but was of the utmost trustworthiness. Who knew fire techniques, handling hazardous objects and would in turn trust him.
Perkyn Slewfoot was the only one he could turn to.
Could he ask it of him? He’d taken his exile hard and now wanted nothing more than a peaceful existence. This was going to be secret, exciting and frightening – and dangerous.
Supper finished and the maidservant left.
‘Perkyn, old friend,’ Jared began in a serious tone. ‘I have a matter of great consequence weighing on me. I wondered if you could help at all.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, as you are the only one who might understand.’
‘I-I’ll try.’
‘Thank you, Perkyn. I knew you’d like to help.’
‘If it eases your burden I’d—’
‘A dream was sent to me. A great and burning presence did place upon me a charge and duty that I must obey. Perkyn, I’m called to a purpose I cannot refuse.’
‘C-called?’
‘Yes. And I’m vexed to know how I can proceed.’
Jared had Perkyn’s wide-eyed attention. ‘It is my stern duty to humble those who dwell in high places and oppress the common folk.’
‘D-dwell in …?’
‘Castles, Perkyn, castles.’
Perkyn gave a saintly smile. ‘Ah. And you must humble them. I understand now.’
Jared suppressed his irritation. ‘Yes. And I will do it!
‘You remember the siege of … whatever the place was called, the last one before we were delivered?’
‘Ah, yes.’
‘And do you recall what broke the siege?’
‘I do,’ he said in a rush, ‘such magic! Thunderbolts and lightning, I was sore afeared and hid.’
‘Perkyn. It was not magic. It was the Cathayan’s artifice. And I have their secret.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I have it. And it will be the means to bring down the walls of every castle in the realm, that they must then live and bide with their people.’
‘You … you’re going to bring this magic against all the castles by yourself – and you want me to help you?’ Perkyn gasped.
‘No, no! Only to make up the huo yao for them to throw at each other. We stand aside while they’re at it.’
Perkyn stumbled over the pronunciation.
‘I don’t know what it’s called in English. A kind of dust, powder which burns with great violence. We have to make it from things – charcoal, brimstone and, er, hsiao.’
Rigid with apprehension, Perkyn could not speak.
‘Will you help me, Perkyn? It’ll be exciting work, much more than a forge-hand usually sees.’
‘Um, I …’
‘Wouldn’t you like to take a tilt at those peacocks? They once had you at the end of a rope as I remember …’
‘I’m frightened,’ he said miserably. ‘It was very loud and—’
‘We’re not using it, only making it. Let them hear it.’
‘But …’
‘I knew you’d help me! Stout fellow. Here’s my hand on it, Perkyn.’
It took a round of metheglin to seal the pact but then Jared had the priceless boon of someone to talk to, however unworldly.