The Emperor's Elephant(74)

Paul’s eyes lit up with interest. ‘Tell me about that.’

I described how two ruffians with knives had cornered me. When I finished, he looked thoughtful. ‘If that had happened in Rome, I’d say the attack was more than an attempt at simple robbery.’

‘It did seem to have been planned,’ I answered, reaching to the purse on my belt. I took out Offa’s gold coin which Redwald had given me and which I kept as a memento. I held it up for the Nomenculator to see. ‘This man – King Offa of Mercia – would like to see me dead. One of my attackers had this coin in his possession. It could have been part of his pay.’

‘May I see that?’ Abram broke in. He was seated on my right and I held the coin out to him. ‘Fascinating,’ he said, taking the coin and turning it over. ‘I’ve heard of King Offa, of course, but I’ve never seen his coinage before. It’s a copy of an Arab dinar, but I would hesitate before trading it to a Saracen.’ He smiled knowingly as he passed the coin on to Osric. ‘I’m sure you can tell me why.’

Puzzled, I looked from one to the other as Osric also examined the coin. ‘I see what you mean,’ he said. ‘Offa’s name is in Saracen script. Whoever minted the coin couldn’t read the writing for himself. It’s upside down.’

He handed me back the coin, and I returned it to my purse.

Paul nodded to a servant to clear away the last of the little bowls of sweetened milk. Platters of dried fruits and nuts were placed on the table.

‘You were very lucky to get away with your life,’ he observed.

‘It was Redwald who saved me, just as Protis here came to our rescue. Our mission has been lucky in its shipmasters.’

‘Another adventure then?’ said Paul expectantly. He selected a dried apricot and took a small, neat bite.

I described the slow sinking of Protis’s ship and how we had been forced to row for shore. When I came to the moment when the aurochs emerged on the beach, Paul clicked his fingers delightedly. ‘The bull from the sea no less!’ he exclaimed and indicated the wall paintings that surrounded us. ‘A picture in this house shows the tale. For his Seventh Labour Hercules had to capture the wild Cretan bull on its island. King Eurytheus set Hercules the task, but was too frightened to accept the bull when Hercules brought it back to his palace in Greece. So Hercules set the beast free and it ravaged the countryside until it was captured and killed by the hero Theseus.’

‘I don’t know that story,’ I admitted. ‘I was told that Theseus killed the Minotaur in the labyrinth.’

Paul took another careful bite from the apricot. ‘The Minotaur and the Cretan bull may not be the same thing. Every story has its variations.’

Protis could restrain himself no longer. ‘The Cretan bull was simply that – a very dangerous bull. The Minotaur was a wondrous creature half-bull, half-man.’

‘Which half was which?’ asked Abram, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Protis took the question very seriously. ‘Some artists depict the Minotaur with the head of a man set on the body of a bull; others prefer the body of a man with bull’s head and tail.’

‘Both sound highly unlikely,’ Abram muttered under his breath.

Protis failed to hear him. ‘The Minotaur,’ he said, adopting a schoolmaster’s tone, ‘was the result of the queen of Crete mating with a bull. She hid herself inside the replica of a wooden cow and attracted the bull to her.’

Abram made a scoffing sound under his breath but Protis was still not put off. ‘All sorts of strange-looking babies are born to humans. You’ve all heard of babies that have webbed hands and feet like frogs.’

I thought it was wise to intervene before Protis fell into an open dispute with our dragoman. ‘We mustn’t be too quick to dismiss the idea of a creature with the head of a bull and the body of a man,’ I said. ‘King Carolus’s bestiary has several illustrations of creatures which could be the result of strange coupling. For example, the cameleopard is clothed in the spotted pelt of a leopard yet it has the shape of a camel. It could be the offspring of those two creatures.’

The Nomenculator was enjoying the discussion. He placed the stone from the dried apricot carefully on the table, took a cloth from an attendant and wiped his lips. ‘There were cameleopards in those wild animal displays in the Colosseum I spoke about,’ he said.

‘What were they like?’ I asked.

‘Very timid, apparently. Two of them were brought from Africa, a long and difficult journey, and let loose in the arena. They galloped around the ring in a panic. Then hungry lions were sent in. It was very disappointing for the crowd. The lions pulled down and killed the cameleopards who put up no resistance.’