The Emperor's Elephant(52)

Out of the corner of my eye I became aware of two figures weaving their way down the slope of the riverbank. Two ox drivers were stumbling towards the boats. They had the loose-kneed, lurching shamble of men who were very drunk, and occasionally they clutched one another to stop falling over. A snatch of drunken laughter reached me. My stomach gave a sudden lurch as it became clear that they were heading towards the boat with the ice bears’ cage. They had to be intercepted. I scrambled up the bank, looking for Walo. I saw him at once. He was seated by the fire, playing his deerhorn pipe, his head wagging loosely from side to side to the rhythm of the music. It was clear that he too was completely drunk. There was no sign of Osric and I presumed he had gone off to our tent. There was no time to find him so I turned on my heel and set off at a run towards the boats. Ahead of me the two drunkards had already climbed aboard the boat and were standing next to the ice bears’ cage. In the flickering light of the bonfire’s flames they were capering stupidly, dancing and calling out to the bears, encouraging them to join in. I suppose they must have seen a travelling showman with a dancing bear and imagined that Modi and Madi would oblige them.

Desperately I hurled myself down the slope of the bank, shouting at them to stand clear of the cage. They did not hear me. One of the men stopped his capering and, egged on by his companion, he leaned up against the cage, thrust his arm between the bars and beckoned. Modi and Madi were already on their feet. The noise and music from the campfire had roused them. Behind me the flames flared up and in a sudden wash of brighter light I could see the two ice bears staring intently at the intruder. Their eyes were distinct black dots in their white faces. My shouts died in my throat as I recalled the foolish dog in Kaupang whose face had been slashed by the claws of an ice bear cub when he came too close. Modi and Madi were no longer cubs. Half-grown, each was bigger than a bull calf, and infinitely more dangerous.

I was too late.

With a deep-throated growl, one of the bears sprang forward. There was a glimpse of bared teeth and the jaws closed on the out-thrust arm. At the same moment the second bear rose on its hind legs and flung itself against the bars, seeking to attack the second reveller. The boat rocked with the force of the impact.

A terrible shriek cut through the blare of singing and drunken music. Behind me the noise of celebration faltered, then died away. Instead there was scream upon scream of pain, and a low-pitched growling, an awful sound, as the bear – I guessed it was Modi the angry – tugged and twisted at the human arm and tried to drag its owner into the cage. The other bear, Madi the strong, kept dropping back on all fours, then rising up again and hurling his weight against the bars, roaring as he batted with his front paws, trying to reach the other drunkard.

The bile rose in my throat. I was only a few yards away but felt helpless. The entire cage was shaking. Ripples spread as the boat rocked. The agonized screams made it impossible for me to think clearly. Several heartbeats later, someone ran past me – Abram. He was holding a flaming branch that he must have snatched from the bonfire. He jumped onto the boat and thrust the brand between the bars, and straight into Madi’s muzzle. By then the bear’s victim was no longer standing, but slumped on his knees, his shoulder and arm pulled between the bars of the cage.

Abram was yelling at the top of his voice, jabbing at the bear with the flaming timber. On his right the second bear, Modi, continued to roar, swatting at the bars.

Reluctantly, Madi opened his jaws and released his grip on the mangled arm. Then the bear half-rose on its hind legs, spun round clumsily and retreated to the back of the cage. I stumbled forward, alongside Abram, and reached down to drag the bear’s victim clear. Between us we carried the badly injured drunkard away and up the bank, his damaged arm hanging uselessly. Behind us Modi flung himself three or four more times against the bars, then he, too, dropped back on all fours, and began to pace up and down. Abram and I carried the moaning ox driver to the campsite and laid him on the bed of an empty cart. The arm was crushed; white bone gleamed through the mangled flesh. His comrades, suddenly sober, clustered round and clumsily tried to help. Osric arrived to wash the wounds as best he could and swathe the arm in tight bandages. An hour later a team of oxen was yoked and the cart had been driven away into the darkness, heading for the monastery infirmary.

*

Next morning the men were hung over and still in shock. They went about their work in silence, ashamed and morose. To add to the sombre mood the day was sultry and oppressive, heavy with the threat of a storm.

Walo also looked worse for wear, bleary eyed and pale. I did not have the heart to reprimand him for leaving the ice bears unattended. I suspected that the ox drivers had deliberately plied him with strong drink for their own amusement. Together we went to check on the ice bears in daylight. Both were asleep in their cage.