kingâs men. Everyone was simply getting away with what they could. Down at the front of the building, he recognised the prior and his father, arguing with a tall man who looked as though he was directing some of the other men. Whatever they were saying, it was having little effect on the looters who were sifting through a pile of furniture and oddments.
Thomas shifted his gaze over to the library at the back of the building. Luckily, it seemed to have been pretty much ignored by the looters, but there was a wisp of smoke drifting out of the top of the left-hand window.
He kept low to the ground as he darted out of the wood and across what had been the vegetable garden, flattening himself against the building. He could feel the heat of the fire through the stone walls as he edged along and round into the darkness at the back of the library.
The thin windows would have been too narrow for an adult to squeeze through, which was probably whythe looters had abandoned the library after smashing the windows and ripping out the lead linings. However, Thomas was smaller. With a grunt, he managed to pull himself up on to the narrow frame and drop down on to the floor inside.
The only door to the rest of the building was securely locked, but smoke was pouring in underneath it and filling the room. It looked as though it could burst open at any moment, flooding the room with fire and choking fumes.
The books were still there. The newer, less precious volumes were kept in a bookcase near the window. They were arranged in rows with their spines facing the wall so that they could be taken out and opened without tangling the metal chains that locked them to the shelves. The more valuable handwritten books were chained to rows of solid oak desks. Thomas grabbed a book and yanked at it, but it held firm. He wasnât going to be able to break the chains or move the desks, so he turned his attention to the bookcase. He grabbed at the side and pulled. It moved a little. Puffing and panting, he prised it from the wall, and dragged one end and then the other, until the bookcase stood side-on in front of the window. It looked like it might just fit through, if he could lift it.
He grabbed the bottom, and heaved with all his might. It tilted a little then slammed back down on his fingers. He put his shoulder against it and tried again. This time he got it a little higher before it crashed back down. One more try⦠Thomas put his fingers underneath the bottom shelf, his feet against a desk, and heaved. The bookcase lifted. His feet slid and scrabbled against the floor as he leaned into the wooden cabinet and heaved again.
Slowly, the bookcase tilted upward, then over, the far side crashing down on the window sill with the edge sticking out into the night. Thomas lifted the bottom and pushed hard until the case slid out, pivoted on the window sill, and smashed upside down on to the ground outside.
The smoke was getting thicker now, and tongues of orange flame had begun to flicker under the door. Thomas looked around for something that might break the chains holding the books to the desks. He remembered that his father had been working on a tile in the corner of the room just before theyâd left for the market. If he was lucky, he might have left some of his tools behindâ¦
He had.
Thomas recognised a cloth bag left neatly in thecorner beside a cracked stone. Inside were a small chisel and a hammer. He scooped them up and aimed a blow at the chain nearest him, pinning it against the floor. The floor tile cracked, but the chain held. He hit it again and it folded in two. Another blow, and the link split. He grabbed the book, threw it out of the window and moved on to the next one.
He was keeping low to avoid the smoke and trying to hold his breath for as long as he could, but his eyes were stinging and he was starting to feel dizzy. He freed two more books and took a gulp of air at the window as he threw them outside, but as