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The Emperor's Elephant(14)

By:Tim Severin


The shipmaster glanced towards my companions, a wary and disapproving expression on his face. ‘I wasn’t told that there were so many in your party.’

‘Only three of us are for the voyage,’ I said.

Redwald put up a hand to rearrange a stray wisp of long hair across a bald patch on his scalp. ‘No point in discussing our business in public. Your companions can wait here while we settle terms.’

‘Osric is my business partner. He needs to hear what you propose,’ I answered frostily.

Redwald swung round and gave Osric a cursory inspection. ‘Very well. Come with me.’ He let go of the bridle and stamped off along the nearest jetty, his clogs echoing on the planks.

Osric and I handed the reins of our horses to Walo, and followed. At the far end of the jetty was moored a solid-looking cargo ship. Big and beamy, with a thick single mast, it looked like the sort of vessel to trust. I was not so sure about its uncouth master.

Redwald jumped aboard then waited while Osric, hampered by his stiff leg, clambered over the ship’s rail and onto the deck. I followed them to where a length of sailcloth had been rigged to provide a patch of shade. Redwald growled an order and a sailor came scrambling up a ladder from below deck. He brought three stools and, as soon as he had set them down, Redwald sent him scurrying off to the local tavern to bring back a jug of ale and three tankards.

With the sailor out of earshot, Redwald waved us to our seats and got down to business. His tone was far from friendly.

‘Why did the mews master send you?’ he demanded. ‘There’s a rumour going around that you’re going to Scringes Heal to buy falcons. Until now I’ve bought them as his agent.’

I didn’t enquire as to the source of the rumour but it was further proof that my attempt to keep our mission secret had failed. ‘This is a special requirement,’ I told the shipmaster. ‘Carolus requires only birds that are white.’

Redwald snorted. ‘I can recognize a white bird when I see one.’

I guessed that the shipmaster was irritated because he turned a profit on his transactions as agent for the mews master, inflating the price he had paid for the birds in Kaupang.

‘I’ll be paying a bonus if we return from Kaupang with all our purchases alive and in good condition,’ I said.

His eyes narrowed. ‘What purchases are you talking about? I’ve never lost a gyrfalcon yet.’

‘The king also wants a pair of ice bears brought back from Kaupang.’

Redwald threw back his head and guffawed, showing several gaps among his yellowing teeth. ‘Difficult to find. And shitting all over my deck if you obtain them. I’ll charge you extra for that.’

The sailor returned with the ale and mugs and poured out our drinks. Redwald had been speaking to me in Frankish, but now he switched to his local dialect as he muttered to the sailor that his two visitors were a couple of troublesome dolts. His dialect was almost identical to the Anglo-Saxon I had spoken as a boy so I understood every word.

Keeping my temper in check, I said in my mother tongue, ‘Transporting ice bears should present no problems if they are caged securely.’

Redwald’s head jerked round. ‘So you speak Frisian.’

‘Not Frisian . . . my own Saxon tongue,’ I told him.

‘I should have known,’ he growled. I wondered what he meant by this remark, but already he had changed the subject. ‘What have you got in those panniers on your horses?’ he demanded bluntly.

‘Good-quality Rhenish wine. Once we reach Kaupang, I intend to do a little trading on my own account.’ I had hoped to make myself sound suitably devious, to encourage him to think that I, too, was unprincipled enough to make a profit on the side.

Instead he scowled. ‘You leave your wine right here on the dockside. Half my own cargo is wine. I don’t need competition.’

I saw my opening. ‘I’ve a better idea that will suit both of us. I’m willing to add my wine to your own stock so that you can sell it for me on commission.’

He swirled the contents of the wooden tankard in his hands while he thought it over. ‘Here’s what I can do,’ he said finally, ‘I’ll bring you and your companions to Scringes Heal and back again, but I’ll take no responsibility for the health of the animals. That’s your lookout. In return, I take a thirty per cent cut from the sale of your goods.’ Abruptly he thrust out his tankard towards me. ‘Is it agreed?’

I touched my tankard against his. ‘Agreed.’

A draught of juniper-flavoured ale sealed our bargain. I watched Redwald over the rim of the mug and wondered why he had not asked how I was going to pay for the gyrfalcons and the ice bears. He must have known that they would be very costly.