The Straw Men(42)

‘A gift from the King of Norway,’ Artorius sang out. The bear was at least three yards high and, despite a few stains from lying in its cage, the animal’s hide was a brilliant thick, white fur. Athelstan had seen many a mangy-coated travelling bear much smaller and black furred; usually broken and infirm, fed on ale slops and discarded food, these hobbled along, muzzled and chained like beaten dogs. This was different. The snow bear was certainly chained: a massive leather collar circled its thick neck with a finely wrought, very long silver-like chain secured to one of the cage poles; this allowed the animal considerable freedom of movement.

‘Behold Maximus,’ Artorius declared, ‘truly the king of all beasts!’ Athelstan could only agree. He had never seen such a splendid creature. Maximus, startled from his sleep, lurched forward and crashed against the poles, his black, red-rimmed eyes with their hard, unblinking stare conveyed his sheer ferocity, his large, massive jaws open to display teeth as long, white and sharp as ivory daggers. Maximus again crashed into the cage poles before lumbering on all fours to a broad, iron-plated door built into the far end of the Tower.

‘The finest steel of Milan,’ Artorius declared, tapping one of the bars. ‘A gift from the Sforzas, as is the chain.’

Athelstan stood back, viewing the cage in the strengthening light of all the torches which were now lit. Maximus appeared to dislike the glare and the heat; he stood with his back to them, pushing at that gate with his head.

‘The best steel,’ Cranston breathed. ‘It would have to be.’

‘True, Sir John,’ Artorius replied. ‘Maximus can take a man’s head off, and has, with one bite or sweep of his paw.’

‘Is he so savage?’ the coroner asked.

‘On a full stomach Maximus can be as content as a pig; he will even play with you,’ Artorius nodded. ‘And I mean that, though even then you have to be very careful, yet he is mild enough. However, once he’s hungry or if he smells blood or worse, both, I do not like being in here, finest steel or not.’ Athelstan studied the cage again; the snow bear was a marvel and so was this. Cunningly devised, the close-set poles stretched from wall to wall, cordoning off most of this cavernous chamber. Maximus kept pressing his head against the gate in the wall leading on to the wharf.

‘He is hungry and wants to go swimming; he hopes to catch fish. Come, I’ll show you.’

Athelstan and Cranston followed. The friar noticed how the aisle was broad enough but he followed the keeper’s advice and kept as far away from the bars of the cage as possible.

‘It has been known,’ Artorius sang out, ‘for Maximus to suddenly make a lunge. One thing about him which always surprises our visitors, despite his bulk, is that he can be as swift as a greyhound.’

‘Like someone else I know,’ Athelstan whispered. He winked as Cranston turned and glared at him. Artorius opened the door at the end of the aisle and led them out on to the broad, snow-swept wharf which ran alongside the moat. Despite being constantly fed by the river, the water here had begun to freeze: sheets of ice bobbed on the surface, the cold was bitter and a thick river mist twisted above the quayside. Artorius walked to the outside entrance to the cage. Maximus was now banging noisily. The keeper pulled back the heavy bolts and lifted the huge bars. Artorius leaned these against the gate and hurriedly withdrew back through the door, beckoning at Cranston and Athelstan to follow. Once inside Artorius lowered the small door hatch so his visitors could have a good view. Athelstan glanced to his left; Maximus was now shoving the gate open. It creaked noisily and the bars on the other side fell away.

‘Deliberately so,’ Artorius whispered. ‘The gate is heavy. The bars delay Maximus so I have enough time to get back in here.’

‘And how do you get him back and seal the gate?’ Athelstan asked.

‘A juicy piece of meat placed at the far end of the cage oozing blood. Maximus loves that. He knows his routine, which is as fixed as any monk’s horarium. Maximus becomes busy with his food. I close over the gate with a hooked pole, pull the bolts across and place the bars back down.’ He paused. ‘Now, watch this.’ Maximus had pushed open the gate. Athelstan glanced through the door hatch, fascinated by the bear’s speed. Maximus, the long chain rattling out, raced across the wharf and plunged into the icy moat, revelling in the splashing water.

‘It’s safe now,’ Artorius declared. He opened the door and led them out.

‘Is it safe?’ Athelstan asked anxiously.

‘Maximus loves to swim and fish,’ the keeper reassured him. ‘He’ll be there for hours.’