‘At least they can’t escape, whatever happens,’ Ohthere said quietly.
Just then there was a low growl close to my right knee. My heart flew into my mouth. One of the scavenger curs had come between us, hackles raised, and with a continuous, rumbling deep in its throat was keeping pace with us.
Ohthere’s hand shot down. He grabbed the dog by the neck, squeezed fiercely, and the growl suddenly choked off. We halted while Ohthere bent down, placed his other hand around the dog’s throat, tightened his grip and held it until the dog’s frantic thrashing stopped. Calmly he laid its corpse on the ground.
Meanwhile Walo had made himself comfortable. He was sitting inside the cage with his back against the bars, facing the ice bears. They were still lying on the ground, but were fully alert, heads up, their black eyes fixed on the intruder.
I was about to creep forward but Ohthere warned quietly, ‘Better keep our distance.’
Walo had pulled something from his pocket, and was holding it to his lips. A moment later I heard the same four notes he had played in the farmyard back in Frankia, softly repeated.
First one bear, then the other, rose slowly to its feet. But they did not approach him.
Unperturbed, Walo kept playing. I was aware that beside me Ohthere had turned and gestured urgently at Redwald to stay back.
After a little while Walo put the whistle back in his pocket. Then he began to crawl on all fours towards the two bears, sliding the trenchers across the ground in front of him.
When he was very close, well within reach of the slashing claws, he halted. He crouched even lower, his face almost on the earth, and stretching out his arms, pushed the two trenchers sideways, away from one another.
‘He’s making sure the bears don’t quarrel over their food,’ said Ohthere, barely whispering.
Walo straightened up, sat back on his heels and waited. For several moments nothing happened. Then both ice bears padded forward a step or two, lowered their muzzles and sniffed the offering. Another pause, and finally both bears began to feed on the blubber.
I breathed a sigh of relief, expecting Walo to leave the cage. Instead, to my astonishment, he crawled even further forward until he was right between the animals, then he turned and sat cross-legged. Out came his deerhorn pipe and he started playing his simple melody again. On either side of him, the two young bears gulped down their food.
Redwald tentatively came forward to join us and I overheard Ohthere make a comment to Redwald. He spoke in hushed tones, and it took me a moment to understand him. The word he used for a bear was one that I had not heard since I was a lad. My own Saxon people consider the bear to be a creature with mystical powers, so they often refer to it with respect and indirectly, not as a bear, but as a beowulf. Now Redwald had used the same word, saying that if he had not seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed that anyone could tame the beowulf. The hairs on the back of my neck rose in prickles: beowulf means ‘bee wolf’.
In front of me was my dream in Aachen – Walo seated between wolves and covered with swarming bees. According to Artimedorus, if bees appeared in a dream with a farmer, they foretold the successful outcome of an endeavour. For all others, it was an omen of death.
From a safe distance we watched until the bears had eaten their fill. Only after they had curled up and fallen into a contented sleep did Walo cease playing his pipe. Then he unfastened the cage door and crawled out to rejoin us. He seemed completely unconcerned, as if nothing unusual had happened.
‘I’d like to hire him to look after the bears. What’s his name?’ Ohthere said to me.
‘Walo. His father was King Carolus’s chief verderer.’
Redwald gave me a warning look, making it clear that I was to hold my tongue. Addressing Ohthere, he said, ‘Walo is not for hire. Sigwulf has already offered to buy your two bears. But they will surely die if Walo does not feed them. In which case, the best price you will get for them is the value of their pelts.’
I kept my expression neutral. By now I knew Redwald well enough to recognize when the Frisian was about to drive a bargain.
‘Ohthere, I suggest we make a deal,’ Redwald continued. ‘Walo stays on with you, looking after the bears until it’s time for me to take my ship back to Dorestad. In return you will receive a payment midway between the bears’ value alive and the price you would get for their skins.’
Ohthere considered for a long moment. ‘On one condition – if the bears die before it is time for shipment, then it is Walo’s fault, and I still get my money.’
‘Agreed!’ said Redwald. Turning to me, he said briskly, ‘This is a good moment to sort out with Gorm how we obtain the additional white gyrfalcon he says he can supply.’
Leaving Osric to explain to Walo his new duties, Redwald and I went across the road to where Gorm and his son were watching over the line of birds of prey standing on their blocks.
‘I have a reliable supplier who specializes in gyrfalcons,’ Gorm told us. ‘He usually brings at least one white gyrfalcon for the Kaupang market, but this year he is delayed. I don’t know the reason, and I can’t spare someone to go to find out, or bring back the birds he has caught.’
‘What about sending your son?’ suggested Redwald.
The bird dealer stooped and picked up the half-eaten body of a mouse where it had fallen on the ground beside a perch block. He held it out towards one of the merlins. The fierce beak snapped the bloody morsel from his fingers. ‘Rolf’s too young. The trapper won’t trust valuable birds to a boy.’
‘How far away does this trapper live?’ I asked.
Gorm scratched his chin. ‘His name’s Ingvar and he’s probably still in the high country where he does his trapping. That’s a three-day ride from here.’
Gorm’s skinny son was shifting anxiously from foot to foot. I caught his eye, and saw how eager he was to prove himself.
‘If this Ingvar really does have a white gyrfalcon, I’m willing to accompany your son and fetch it,’ I said.
I must have sounded too keen because Redwald immediately put in, ‘You’ll have to lower the bird’s price if Sigwulf goes to such trouble.’
Fortunately, Gorm accepted Redwald’s argument and after only a small amount of haggling it was agreed that Gorm’s son and I would ride to seek out the elusive trapper and bring back any birds he had caught. Osric had come across to join me and, stepping aside for a moment to confer, we quickly came to the conclusion that it was best if he stayed aboard ship to safeguard our silver hoard while I was away. In the meantime Ohthere could take in Walo so the lad could tend the ice bears. That would leave Redwald free to get on with his business in the market.
‘The sooner we start out, the better,’ I called out, turning back to Gorm, and almost immediately regretted my enthusiasm when young Rolf went off at a run, and within minutes reappeared dragging our mounts by their rope bridles. They were two of the small shaggy breed that we had seen pulling a sledge up from the landing beach. There were no stirrups and once seated in the plain leather saddle, my dangling feet nearly touched the ground. I wondered if the diminutive animals were capable of carrying us far inland.
*
I had misjudged them. They set off at a scampering gait – half trot, half run – that was ideally suited to the difficult terrain. Rolf led the way confidently and I had only to let my little mount follow him at the same jolting pace as it dodged and weaved around the bushes and boulders along a trail no wider than a footpath. Our route was directly away from the sea and our progress was impressive, though at times I felt my spine was being rattled out of shape. For the first few miles the land was level, a mixture of sour bogland with stands of willow and alder, and tussocky rough pasture. We saw scarcely a dozen houses – basic cabins with log walls, a turf roof, a shed or two, and a small fenced enclosure for sheep or scrawny cattle. We spent our first night at the furthest of them where the landholder’s wife recognized Rolf. She gave us a place to sleep in the hay shed, and provided a meal of hard cheese, bread and milk, together with a satchel of the same provisions for our onward journey. Her husband was away at Kaupang market, she said.