The Emperor's Elephant(23)

‘And none of them are white?’

‘Not that I’ve seen. The only white thing about them is their teeth. Great long fangs. They fetch a good price for carving into ornaments and jewellery.’

Now I knew what animal he was talking about. At Carolus’s court I had seen chess pieces, sword handles and pendants that were said to have been carved from the massive teeth of a sea beast. An image flashed into my mind from the Book of Beasts that Carolus had showed me. As he flicked through the pages, I had caught a quick glimpse of a drawing of a great ungainly animal lying on a rocky shore. It had a bulging body, a tail like a fish, a mournful-looking face, and drooping whiskers. It was not a unicorn, and not what the king had wanted.

Ohthere must have read the disappointment on my face. ‘I’ve heard rumours of a small whale that is as white as snow. But it’s only a rumour.’

‘Thank you for your help. I’m sorry to have disturbed you. Those dogs must be a nuisance,’ I said. Several of the curs had sneaked around behind us while we were talking, and were again at the bars of the pen, snarling and growling.

‘If they get too close, they’ll be sorry,’ said Ohthere. ‘Here, let me show you what I’ve got inside.’ He led me over to the wooden enclosure.

It was more of a large strong cage than a pen. The sides were made of stout timber posts and a number of heavy slats had been laid across to form a roof.

I peered inside.

All that was visible were two grubby yellow shapes on the ground. At first I mistook them for a pair of large and dirty sheep, sound asleep. Then one of the shapes moved slightly and I saw a snout with a black tip and two bright black spots. They were eyes.

‘Yearling ice bears,’ Ohthere announced beside me. Without warning he lashed out with his stick and caught one of the dogs across the rump. It ran off with a howl.

‘They don’t look that dangerous,’ I said, still gazing at the bears. They were both slumped on the ground. The two black eyes had closed.

‘That’s because they’re half-starved.’

‘How did you get them?’ I asked. I was utterly disappointed. I had expected to see a wonderful white creature like the one drawn in the bestiary. Instead, these two creatures looked sick and feeble, and their dirty fur was the colour of urine. They also smelled of piss. I wondered what impression such dejected and mangy animals would make on the caliph of Baghdad in return for his gift of a white elephant to Carolus.

‘The Finna traded them to me,’ Ohthere replied. ‘They had killed the mother bear. They let me have her skin as well. I’ve already sold it.’

‘Who are the Finna?’ I was already wondering if I should travel onwards and contact these people in my quest.

‘They roam the mountains and wastelands near my farm. A native people and always on the move. They come to me, asking to trade metal in exchange for feathers, horse whale teeth and skin rope. You never know when they will turn up or what they will bring for barter. This year they produced two bears.’

Ohthere stared in at the two animals. ‘It’s been impossible to get them to eat properly. They’ll eat a couple of mouthfuls and leave the rest. I’ve tried seal blubber, mutton fat, chicken, milk. I’d say they’re pining for their mother.’

One of the young ice bears had risen to its feet. It was somewhat bigger than I had imagined, the size of a large mastiff. It padded slowly towards the far side of the pen. The gait was strange, sinuous and soft.

‘How big will they grow?’ I enquired.

‘If they live, they’ll be as big as their mother, and her pelt was two fathoms from nose to tail.’

‘They don’t look very dangerous.’ A dog had poked its muzzle between the wooden bars and was barking shrilly at the moving bear. Scarcely were the words out of my mouth than the bear made a sudden pounce, lashing out with its paw. The movement was almost too quick to see. The claws raked the face of the cur. The dog screamed and fled, blood spraying from the wound.

‘You see my problem,’ said Ohthere. ‘You don’t want to get too close when you’re trying to coax them into feeding.’

‘I thought ice bears are white?’

‘In winter the fur is the same colour as the snow and ice. If they were healthy they would not look so shabby.’

‘Are they for sale?’ I asked, turning to look at him.

‘Why else would I have brought them to Scringes Heal?’ he said ruefully. ‘I was hoping that they would regain their appetites, but it seems I was wrong.’

‘I’ll make you an offer,’ I said.

Ohthere looked at me in surprise. ‘What would you want with them?’