Saxon: The Emperor's Elephant (10 page)

Clearly he already knew Ohthere well, and I made a mental note to be vigilant in my dealings with regular visitors to Kaupang market. They seemed to form a close-knit circle and were likely to
serve their own interests when it came to setting prices and negotiating deals.

‘I’ve offered to buy the bears and he’s thinking about the price. I’m going back to see him tomorrow,’ I told the shipmaster.

Redwald watched as a porter balanced his way down the unsteady gangplank with several bottles of my Rhenish wine cradled in his arms. ‘Then I’ll come with you. I’ve got my own
business in town that needs attention,’ he said.

‘There’s something else I need to discuss with you before then,’ I told him, with a sideways glance at Osric.

Redwald was quick on the uptake. He turned to the bird dealer. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Gorm, at your place.’

As Gorm walked off along the jetty, Osric and I followed the shipmaster up the gangplank. When we were out of earshot of the crew, I asked Redwald to be more discreet in his market dealings.
‘I would prefer that as few people as possible know why I’ve come to Kaupang,’ I told him.

He shrugged dismissively, then shocked me by saying, ‘It’s about time we discussed just how you’re going to pay for the goods.’

‘What do you mean?’ I demanded sharply.

‘Come with me and I’ll show you,’ he grunted.

He escorted us down the ladder into the hold, almost empty now except for a few remaining sacks and packing cases. Walo was seated on a sack, guarding our precious saddlebags with the silver
coin.

‘I presume those bags contain your funds,’ Redwald announced bluntly.

There was no point in denying it. I nodded.

‘Mind if I take a look?’

‘As you wish,’ I said, though I felt a stab of suspicion.

I asked Walo to bring one of the bags across and he handed it to Redwald.

The shipmaster hefted one of them approvingly. ‘Carolus’s denarii?’ he asked me, raising an eyebrow.

‘Fresh from the Aachen mint.’

Redwald unlaced the saddlebag’s flap and picked out one of the silver coins. He held it up to the light falling in through the open hatch. ‘The Aachen stamp has been changed,’
he announced. ‘The cross in the centre is different, more ornate than before. Mind if I use this coin as a sample?’

‘A sample for what?’ I asked, my suspicions now thoroughly aroused.

‘I’ll show you.’

Keeping the coin, he handed the saddlebag back to Walo and then made his way into the gloomy shadows beneath the overhang of the deck. Rolls of spare sailcloth lay on a shelf built into the
stern. Pushing them aside, he reached his arm into the space, felt around for a moment, tugged, and there was a soft thump as something shifted. It was too dark to see what he was doing, but when
he turned to face us he was holding a bundle wrapped in oilcloth.

‘Tools of my other trade,’ he announced cryptically. From the package he extracted a set of small weighing scales, their weights, a soft leather pouch fastened with a drawstring, a
tiny flask and a fist-sized object wrapped in a cloth bandage. Unwinding the bandage, he produced a flat stone, smooth and black, and laid it on top of a packing case. He unstoppered the tiny
flask, dripped a small amount of oil on the surface of the stone, then wiped it. With quick, firm strokes he rubbed Carolus’s coin up and down on the stone, leaving a thin silver streak.

Next, he tipped out the contents of his leather pouch. A jumble of odd-shaped items rattled out on the surface of the packing case. Some were chunky, others flat or slightly dished, many had
jagged edges or were thin strips folded over, twisted, and then hammered flat. They were all a dull grey.

‘The sea air takes the shine off them,’ said Redwald, picking out a flat piece about two inches across, one edge smoothly curved. It took me a moment to recognize a scrap of
tarnished silver, probably chopped from a silver platter.

Redwald rubbed it against the stone, leaving a second silvery streak, parallel to the first.

‘See any difference?’ he asked Osric who had been watching him closely.

Osric shook his head.

‘It takes experience,’ Redwald told him. ‘The mark from the coin shows good silver, more than nine parts silver to one of copper. I happen to know that the platter fragment is
silver mixed with copper, three parts to one.’

He swept up the pile of broken silver pieces and dropped them into the pouch. ‘As I told you, Sigwulf, the Northmen don’t trust coins. If Ohthere sells you those bears, he’ll
want most of his payment in broken silver. And he’ll probably expect a couple of pieces of worked jewellery, something bright and gaudy, that he can trade to the Finna in future.’

He began to wind the bandage back around the black stone. ‘It’s going to be a tedious job demonstrating to him that every one of your coins is genuine. I’m not looking forward
to it.’ He grimaced. ‘But first we have to agree a price for those bears.’

*

Next morning, I set out with Redwald and Walo for our meeting with Ohthere. Osric had volunteered to stay onboard the ship and watch over our silver hoard. He claimed that his
crooked leg was hurting after the previous day’s walk. But the truth was that he and I were both feeling guilty that Walo had not yet had a chance to get off the ship and see Kaupang for
himself.

Once again Kaupang’s street was thronged with customers, and as we made our way through the press of people Redwald drew my attention to two brawny individuals loitering outside one of the
small wooden houses.

‘Hired guards. Every year that same house is rented by a dealer in precious gems and metals.’

At that moment the crowd ahead of us hurriedly parted to allow a group of half a dozen men to stride through. They were armed with swords and daggers and their leader was a big, red-faced fellow
with a truculent expression. Walo had fallen behind to examine some wooden trinkets on a stall and was in their path. Redwald hastily turned back, grabbed him and pulled him aside. After the group
had disappeared into one of the taverns, Redwald explained quietly that the man at the head of the group was a minor jarl, a local lord. His companions were his retainers and it was wise to steer
clear of such people as they took offence easily.

A few steps further on, Walo again needed to be rescued. He had halted in front of a display of skins and furs, and the stallholder snapped at him to stop fingering the merchandise. Redwald
quickly intervened. ‘That’s a sealskin, Walo,’ he explained.

‘It is like a big otter,’ said Walo, stroking the glossy pelt.

‘He can handle it all he wants, once he’s paid for it,’ grumbled the vendor, an old man with a long, lugubrious face and a heavy scarf wound around his neck despite the warm
day.

‘Where did those white skins come from?’ I asked him. In a pile of smaller furs were several pelts that were a soft, lustrous white.

‘Winter fox and hare,’ said the old man.

My hopes rose. ‘Can I obtain these animals alive?’

‘They’re no good to you, Sigwulf,’ Redwald intervened. ‘By the time you get the creatures to the caliph they’ll have turned back to their normal brown. The animals
are white in winter only.’

‘How about this, then? Fit for a jarl’s cloak,’ coaxed the old man. Struggling with the weight of it, he unrolled a massive white bearskin. The head and paws were still
attached. I had witnessed the injuries inflicted on a dog by the hooked black claws of a yearling bear. Now the huge teeth set in the gaping jaw of an adult made me shudder. There was no need to
confirm with the old man that he had purchased the bearskin from Ohthere.

We found Ohthere himself on the edge of town, as before, staring moodily in through the wooden bars of the stout cage. The two yearling ice bears were slumped on the bare earth, eyes closed.
They lay so still that it was difficult to tell whether they were even breathing. Just inside the cage’s heavy door was placed a wooden water trough. Beside it were two trenchers heaped with
what looked like strips of yellowy-white pig fat with thick black rind.

‘They’re still refusing to eat,’ said Ohthere, his frustration evident. He had his wooden stick with him and put the tip between the bars of the cage and pushed one of the
trenchers closer to the nose of an ice bear.

Both animals ignored him.

‘What are you trying to feed them?’ asked Redwald.

‘Whale blubber, from my own larder.’

‘You must be getting desperate,’ teased the shipmaster. It was obvious that the two men were on friendly terms.

The shipmaster turned to me. ‘Ohthere has a weakness for whale blubber and hoards the stuff like a child. Don’t know why. It tastes vile.’

Ohthere snorted. ‘Not everyone thinks so. Wait here a minute.’ He strode off in the direction of his leather tent.

Redwald peered in at the two ice bears. ‘Are you sure about buying them, Sigwulf? They look as though they’re not long for this world.’

‘I’ll have to take that chance. They’re the only ones available, and maybe we can find a way of making them eat.’

Redwald shrugged resignedly. ‘Leave the negotiations to me. At least I should be able to get them cheaply because they’re half-starved.’

‘I’ve already told Ohthere that they are for King Carolus,’ I confessed. ‘I’m afraid that will have put up the price considerably.’

Ohthere emerged from his tent holding a slab of something in his hand. We walked across to meet him as he held it up for our inspection. One side had a thick skin, dark and slightly wrinkled.
The rest of it was pale yellowish-white, two inches thick, and resembled solid jelly.

‘Best whale blubber, air dried,’ he announced. ‘Here, try a bite.’

He took a sailor’s knife from his belt, cut off a small cube, and offered it to me.

I popped the piece of whale blubber into my mouth and chewed cautiously, not knowing what to expect. The taste was surprisingly pleasant. As I bit down, I felt the oil squeeze out and run down
my throat. It was vaguely soothing and reminded me faintly of hazelnuts.

At that moment Ohthere gave an annoyed grunt. He was gazing over my shoulder. ‘What’s that idiot doing!’ he growled.

Alarmed, I swung round on my heel.

It was Walo. We had left him standing beside the bear cage and had failed to keep an eye on him. He had unfastened the heavy door to the cage, opened it, and was crawling inside on his hands and
knees.

‘He’ll get himself killed,’ I blurted, and started forward. But Ohthere’s grip on my wrist stopped me. ‘Don’t rush and don’t shout. It’ll only
upset them. We need to get close enough to speak to your man quietly and tell him to back out.’

He glanced at Redwald. ‘The fewer the better. Best you stay here.’

Slowly and deliberately Ohthere and I began to walk towards the cage. Walo was fully inside now, crouched on all fours, facing towards the two ice bears. To my dismay I saw that both animals had
raised their heads and were staring at him. The gap between them and Walo was no more than four or five feet.

‘I suspected he wasn’t quite right in the head,’ Ohthere muttered.

Walo had turned his back on the bears and was pulling the door shut behind him. I was appalled to see him then put an arm out through the bars and push in place the peg that served as a catch.
He was now locked in with them.

‘At least they can’t escape, whatever happens,’ Ohthere said quietly.

Just then there was a low growl close to my right knee. My heart flew into my mouth. One of the scavenger curs had come between us, hackles raised, and with a continuous, rumbling deep in its
throat was keeping pace with us.

Ohthere’s hand shot down. He grabbed the dog by the neck, squeezed fiercely, and the growl suddenly choked off. We halted while Ohthere bent down, placed his other hand around the
dog’s throat, tightened his grip and held it until the dog’s frantic thrashing stopped. Calmly he laid its corpse on the ground.

Meanwhile Walo had made himself comfortable. He was sitting inside the cage with his back against the bars, facing the ice bears. They were still lying on the ground, but were fully alert, heads
up, their black eyes fixed on the intruder.

I was about to creep forward but Ohthere warned quietly, ‘Better keep our distance.’

Walo had pulled something from his pocket, and was holding it to his lips. A moment later I heard the same four notes he had played in the farmyard back in Frankia, softly repeated.

First one bear, then the other, rose slowly to its feet. But they did not approach him.

Unperturbed, Walo kept playing. I was aware that beside me Ohthere had turned and gestured urgently at Redwald to stay back.

After a little while Walo put the whistle back in his pocket. Then he began to crawl on all fours towards the two bears, sliding the trenchers across the ground in front of him.

When he was very close, well within reach of the slashing claws, he halted. He crouched even lower, his face almost on the earth, and stretching out his arms, pushed the two trenchers sideways,
away from one another.

‘He’s making sure the bears don’t quarrel over their food,’ said Ohthere, barely whispering.

Walo straightened up, sat back on his heels and waited. For several moments nothing happened. Then both ice bears padded forward a step or two, lowered their muzzles and sniffed the offering.
Another pause, and finally both bears began to feed on the blubber.

I breathed a sigh of relief, expecting Walo to leave the cage. Instead, to my astonishment, he crawled even further forward until he was right between the animals, then he turned and sat
cross-legged. Out came his deerhorn pipe and he started playing his simple melody again. On either side of him, the two young bears gulped down their food.

Redwald tentatively came forward to join us and I overheard Ohthere make a comment to Redwald. He spoke in hushed tones, and it took me a moment to understand him. The word he used for a bear
was one that I had not heard since I was a lad. My own Saxon people consider the bear to be a creature with mystical powers, so they often refer to it with respect and indirectly, not as a bear,
but as a beowulf. Now Redwald had used the same word, saying that if he had not seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed that anyone could tame the beowulf. The hairs on the back of
my neck rose in prickles: beowulf means ‘bee wolf’.