Next, he tipped out the contents of his leather pouch. A jumble of odd-shaped items rattled out on the surface of the packing case. Some were chunky, others flat or slightly dished, many had jagged edges or were thin strips folded over, twisted, and then hammered flat. They were all a dull grey.
‘The sea air takes the shine off them,’ said Redwald, picking out a flat piece about two inches across, one edge smoothly curved. It took me a moment to recognize a scrap of tarnished silver, probably chopped from a silver platter.
Redwald rubbed it against the stone, leaving a second silvery streak, parallel to the first.
‘See any difference?’ he asked Osric who had been watching him closely.
Osric shook his head.
‘It takes experience,’ Redwald told him. ‘The mark from the coin shows good silver, more than nine parts silver to one of copper. I happen to know that the platter fragment is silver mixed with copper, three parts to one.’
He swept up the pile of broken silver pieces and dropped them into the pouch. ‘As I told you, Sigwulf, the Northmen don’t trust coins. If Ohthere sells you those bears, he’ll want most of his payment in broken silver. And he’ll probably expect a couple of pieces of worked jewellery, something bright and gaudy, that he can trade to the Finna in future.’
He began to wind the bandage back around the black stone. ‘It’s going to be a tedious job demonstrating to him that every one of your coins is genuine. I’m not looking forward to it.’ He grimaced. ‘But first we have to agree a price for those bears.’
*
Next morning, I set out with Redwald and Walo for our meeting with Ohthere. Osric had volunteered to stay onboard the ship and watch over our silver hoard. He claimed that his crooked leg was hurting after the previous day’s walk. But the truth was that he and I were both feeling guilty that Walo had not yet had a chance to get off the ship and see Kaupang for himself.
Once again Kaupang’s street was thronged with customers, and as we made our way through the press of people Redwald drew my attention to two brawny individuals loitering outside one of the small wooden houses.
‘Hired guards. Every year that same house is rented by a dealer in precious gems and metals.’
At that moment the crowd ahead of us hurriedly parted to allow a group of half a dozen men to stride through. They were armed with swords and daggers and their leader was a big, red-faced fellow with a truculent expression. Walo had fallen behind to examine some wooden trinkets on a stall and was in their path. Redwald hastily turned back, grabbed him and pulled him aside. After the group had disappeared into one of the taverns, Redwald explained quietly that the man at the head of the group was a minor jarl, a local lord. His companions were his retainers and it was wise to steer clear of such people as they took offence easily.
A few steps further on, Walo again needed to be rescued. He had halted in front of a display of skins and furs, and the stallholder snapped at him to stop fingering the merchandise. Redwald quickly intervened. ‘That’s a sealskin, Walo,’ he explained.
‘It is like a big otter,’ said Walo, stroking the glossy pelt.
‘He can handle it all he wants, once he’s paid for it,’ grumbled the vendor, an old man with a long, lugubrious face and a heavy scarf wound around his neck despite the warm day.
‘Where did those white skins come from?’ I asked him. In a pile of smaller furs were several pelts that were a soft, lustrous white.
‘Winter fox and hare,’ said the old man.
My hopes rose. ‘Can I obtain these animals alive?’
‘They’re no good to you, Sigwulf,’ Redwald intervened. ‘By the time you get the creatures to the caliph they’ll have turned back to their normal brown. The animals are white in winter only.’
‘How about this, then? Fit for a jarl’s cloak,’ coaxed the old man. Struggling with the weight of it, he unrolled a massive white bearskin. The head and paws were still attached. I had witnessed the injuries inflicted on a dog by the hooked black claws of a yearling bear. Now the huge teeth set in the gaping jaw of an adult made me shudder. There was no need to confirm with the old man that he had purchased the bearskin from Ohthere.
We found Ohthere himself on the edge of town, as before, staring moodily in through the wooden bars of the stout cage. The two yearling ice bears were slumped on the bare earth, eyes closed. They lay so still that it was difficult to tell whether they were even breathing. Just inside the cage’s heavy door was placed a wooden water trough. Beside it were two trenchers heaped with what looked like strips of yellowy-white pig fat with thick black rind.
‘They’re still refusing to eat,’ said Ohthere, his frustration evident. He had his wooden stick with him and put the tip between the bars of the cage and pushed one of the trenchers closer to the nose of an ice bear.
Both animals ignored him.
‘What are you trying to feed them?’ asked Redwald.
‘Whale blubber, from my own larder.’
‘You must be getting desperate,’ teased the shipmaster. It was obvious that the two men were on friendly terms.
The shipmaster turned to me. ‘Ohthere has a weakness for whale blubber and hoards the stuff like a child. Don’t know why. It tastes vile.’
Ohthere snorted. ‘Not everyone thinks so. Wait here a minute.’ He strode off in the direction of his leather tent.
Redwald peered in at the two ice bears. ‘Are you sure about buying them, Sigwulf? They look as though they’re not long for this world.’
‘I’ll have to take that chance. They’re the only ones available, and maybe we can find a way of making them eat.’
Redwald shrugged resignedly. ‘Leave the negotiations to me. At least I should be able to get them cheaply because they’re half-starved.’
‘I’ve already told Ohthere that they are for King Carolus,’ I confessed. ‘I’m afraid that will have put up the price considerably.’
Ohthere emerged from his tent holding a slab of something in his hand. We walked across to meet him as he held it up for our inspection. One side had a thick skin, dark and slightly wrinkled. The rest of it was pale yellowish-white, two inches thick, and resembled solid jelly.
‘Best whale blubber, air dried,’ he announced. ‘Here, try a bite.’
He took a sailor’s knife from his belt, cut off a small cube, and offered it to me.
I popped the piece of whale blubber into my mouth and chewed cautiously, not knowing what to expect. The taste was surprisingly pleasant. As I bit down, I felt the oil squeeze out and run down my throat. It was vaguely soothing and reminded me faintly of hazelnuts.
At that moment Ohthere gave an annoyed grunt. He was gazing over my shoulder. ‘What’s that idiot doing!’ he growled.
Alarmed, I swung round on my heel.
It was Walo. We had left him standing beside the bear cage and had failed to keep an eye on him. He had unfastened the heavy door to the cage, opened it, and was crawling inside on his hands and knees.
‘He’ll get himself killed,’ I blurted, and started forward. But Ohthere’s grip on my wrist stopped me. ‘Don’t rush and don’t shout. It’ll only upset them. We need to get close enough to speak to your man quietly and tell him to back out.’
He glanced at Redwald. ‘The fewer the better. Best you stay here.’
Slowly and deliberately Ohthere and I began to walk towards the cage. Walo was fully inside now, crouched on all fours, facing towards the two ice bears. To my dismay I saw that both animals had raised their heads and were staring at him. The gap between them and Walo was no more than four or five feet.
‘I suspected he wasn’t quite right in the head,’ Ohthere muttered.
Walo had turned his back on the bears and was pulling the door shut behind him. I was appalled to see him then put an arm out through the bars and push in place the peg that served as a catch. He was now locked in with them.