Saxon: The Emperor's Elephant by Tim Severin Read Free Book Online Page B

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.
    *
    Some hours later, I was standing beside the shipmaster on the cog’s deck and feeling apprehensive. Redwald had ordered his sailors to cast off from the jetty the moment we
had brought aboard our wine and I had dismissed the escort troopers. Dorestad was already several miles behind us, and the last trace of daylight was bleeding from the sky. I could scarcely make
out any difference between the black surface of the Rhine and the distant line of the riverbank. The cog was floating downstream, carried along by the current, her great rectangular sail barely
filling with the breeze. There was no moon, and soon there would only be starlight to see by. As far as I could tell, we were rushing into blackness and out of control.
    ‘How do you know which way to steer?’ I asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice. Osric and Walo were below deck, keeping watch over the silver coin in our saddlebags, for
we had agreed that someone should be awake at all times.
    ‘I use my ears,’ Redwald grunted.
    I