The dragoman smirked. ‘Sigwulf, I never thought you were a dream believer. How do you explain Haroun’s other gifts to Carolus – the mechanical clock and the other baubles? I delivered them safely.’
‘That was when you made your really clever move. You claimed falsely that the dead elephant was white because white was the royal colour in Baghdad. You charmed Carolus’s advisors with the idea that if there was to be a return mission to Baghdad it should take white gifts. You knew that would offend Haroun.’
Abram appeared to regain his poise, and that brought me a twinge of worry.
‘Of course, Adrian has paid me well,’ he admitted, giving me a pleasant, relaxed smile. Then to my astonishment he leaned forward and gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder.
‘Sigwulf, if I were you, when you get back to Aachen, I wouldn’t tell Carolus or Alcuin that the Holy Father tried to wreck their foreign policy.’
‘Why not?’ I retorted. ‘Alcuin might be shocked, but Carolus is sufficiently worldly wise to accept that Pope Adrian’s priority must be the Church itself.’
Abram gave me a look loaded with sympathy but a warning as well. ‘Kings also don’t like to be made to look stupid and ignorant.’
The dragoman was all too sure of himself. Again I sensed that he had planned ahead and out-witted me. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked cautiously.
‘Think back to the day you met with Carolus and were given the mission to Baghdad. Do you recall that meeting?’
I could remember every detail. ‘I had come back successfully from Kaupang, bringing the gyrfalcons, the white dogs and the ice bears,’ I said slowly.
‘And what did you give to him?’ Abram prompted.
I thought back to the scene in the king’s apartments and Carolus’s reaction when I produced the horn of a unicorn. He had been like a child seeing a wonderful present.
‘I showed him a unicorn’s horn that Osric had bought in Kaupang for a princely sum,’ I said.
‘You told me that Carolus decided to keep it for himself, and not send it to the caliph,’ Abram replied.
‘That’s true. He was delighted. He was going to show it to his sceptical counsellors who doubted the existence of the unicorn.’
Abram chuckled. ‘And how would the king react if he knew he had been tricked?’
I stared at him. ‘The king is known to have a notoriously short temper,’ I said.
‘It would be very unfortunate, then, if he learned his precious unicorn horn is nothing more than a tooth. What is more, it is a tooth from a large, fat sea creature that’s more like a sea slug than a graceful deer.’
I stared at the dragoman. The triumph in his dark brown eyes told me that he was telling the truth. His threat was real. If I revealed the pope’s plot to Carolus, Abram would make sure the king would learn that his precious unicorn’s horn was a fake. My own future at court would be ruined.
I had to admire Abram’s audacity. He had shown himself to be a past master at double-dealing. In my present disenchanted mood I was entirely ready to accept that my only sensible course of action was to let matters lie where they were: I would go back to Aachen, not mention Abram’s treachery, and continue to pay lip service to the myth of the unicorn. It would be much the same as my clandestine arrangement with Osric to keep the secret of the so-called rukh’s eggs.
‘I agree to your terms,’ I said reluctantly, holding out my hand. ‘I will say nothing to Carolus or to Alcuin about Pope Adrian’s plot. In return, you will keep the secret of the unicorn’s horn.’
Abram shook my hand. I turned on my heel and was nearly at the double doors on my way out of the menagerie when the elephant trumpeted angrily, either from bad temper or because he had been denied any further food. The hoarse sound echoed through the building and shattered my complacency like a physical blow. I heard again the aurochs in the pitfall bellowing in triumph over Vulfard’s crushed body. My stomach heaved at the thought that while others were dying, Abram had taken his chance to serve two masters and line his pockets.
I hurried my steps, going first to the royal library for a private conversation with Musa, and then on to our lodgings where Osric was standing at a window, staring out at the fountain in the courtyard and deep in thought. He looked round, surprised at my sudden, urgent arrival.
‘Osric, I need your help,’ I told him. ‘I’ve been talking with Abram.’
He listened as I described the extent of the dragoman’s treachery. ‘He can’t be allowed to get away with it,’ I concluded.
‘What do you propose?’ Osric asked.