Leaving Osric and Walo in charge of the animals, I said a hurried farewell to Redwald, interrupting him as he stood at the foot of the mast, supervising his crew unlace the great sail from its spar, ready to carry it ashore. I had already offered to deliver the captive eagle to the palace mews master on his behalf. But he had declined gruffly, saying that I was not a Frisian so he could not trust me to drive a hard enough bargain over the price.
‘I owe you an apology,’ I said.
He tilted his head to one side and gave me a knowing look. ‘You had your doubts about me, didn’t you?’ he said.
I felt my face go red. ‘That’s right. But you’ve done as you promised, and brought us back safe. I want to thank you.’
He clapped me on the shoulder. ‘That was just good business. I seem to remember that I was promised a bonus if you and all the animals got here in good condition. I’ll settle up with Osric and he can pay me from the rest of your silver hoard.’
He reached into an inner pocket, produced a small coin, and held it out to me.
‘You’d forgotten about your share from the sale of the Rhenish wine,’ he said.
The coin was the dinar with Arab script and Offa’s name, the same gold coin that my attacker had asked Redwald to change for silver.
‘That’s too much,’ I said. ‘Besides, I bought the wine with funds from the royal treasury. You should credit them with any profit.’
‘I’ll haggle with the treasury in my own time.’ He pressed the coin into my hand.
I had no wish to be rude so I slipped the dinar into my money belt. ‘I’ll spend it in Baghdad when my mission is over,’ I told him.
‘That coin will be a useful reminder,’ he said.
‘A reminder of what?’
He made a wry face. ‘That money has a very long reach.’
*
Aachen had altered while I had been away. Summer was the building season, and the royal precinct resounded to the constant tapping of hammers as teams of tilers crawled over the vast roof of the future banqueting hall. The web of scaffolding had been dismantled from the façade of the basilica and re-erected around the treasury. The arcade leading to Carolus’s private quarters was no longer an untidy muddle of bricks and paving slabs. Several houses on the fringes of the precinct had been torn down to make extra space for the royal building programme, and there was a new stable block I could not remember seeing previously. There was no time to take in any further details because my escort whisked me straight to the royal apartments and handed me over to the major domo, a plump, watchful man whose sharp eyes immediately took in the suspicious-looking package in my hand. It was early afternoon, a time when I knew the king liked to take a nap. Yet the major domo waved aside the guard who wished to check whether what I was holding was some sort of weapon and immediately brought me up the familiar broad staircase leading to the royal apartments. Without knocking, he eased open the door to the king’s private audience room and slipped inside.
A few minutes later he reappeared and held the door ajar. ‘The king will see you now.’
It was the same audience chamber as before, though in daylight it seemed even more spacious and airy than when candle-lit. Carolus was alone in the room. His slightly dishevelled appearance suggested that he had only just got up, and the silk cover of the couch he used as a day bed was rumpled. He yawned and stretched before addressing me, looking down from his great height.
‘I’m told that you’ve brought back two ice bears,’ he said.
I was reminded that the king’s long and successful reign depended partly on his excellent intelligence system that brought news from all parts of the kingdom.
‘Two ice bears, three gyrfalcons, five dogs, Your Majesty – and all of them white,’ I replied.
‘Dogs?’ Carolus grunted irritably. It seemed that being disturbed during his afternoon nap left him out of sorts. ‘I didn’t ask for dogs.’
‘They were available so I purchased them with surplus funds. I apologize if this went beyond my instructions,’ I said apologetically.
‘Any good for the chase?’ the king demanded.
He was passionate about his hunting, and I suspected that he was thinking of putting the dogs into the royal kennels.
‘I’ve been told that these dogs make excellent guard dogs and can pull sledges. But I heard nothing about hunting,’ I answered tactfully.
‘Not a lot of sledges in Baghdad,’ grumbled the king, ‘but I suppose we should add them to the list.’ Carolus’s gaze sharpened. ‘What about the unicorn? Did you bring one back?’
I took a deep breath. ‘No, Your Majesty. There is no unicorn.’
His eyebrows came together in a scowl. ‘My Book of Beasts states otherwise. Last month I was unwise enough to mention my hopes for a unicorn to my councillors, and one of them failed to hide his smirk. I dislike being thought a fool.’
Carolus’s ill-humour was making me nervous. ‘I meant only that there is no unicorn among the animals we brought back. The animal itself does exist of course.’
The shrewd grey eyes regarded me suspiciously. ‘Go on, but don’t try to hoodwink me.’
‘Your Majesty will recall you showed me the horn of an aurochs as proof that such an animal is real?’
‘Go on.’
‘Here is the proof that the unicorn exists.’ I held up the velvet-wrapped package. ‘I obtained this in the Northlands though no one could tell me where to find the living creature.’
‘Show me,’ ordered the king.
With a showman’s flourish I whisked off the purple velvet cover and offered the unicorn’s horn to the king. He took it from me and stood for a long moment, grasping the horn in his large, strong hand, turning it this way and that.
‘Remarkable,’ he said finally. A delighted smile replaced the scowl.
He whirled about, giving me a fright, and using the unicorn horn as a pointer, rested the tip on a deep-red gem set in the crosspiece of the great jewelled cross that dominated one side of the room.
‘Know what this is, Sigwulf?’ he demanded.
‘No, Your Majesty.’
‘A precious carbuncle. It represents the blood of Christ.’
He lowered the unicorn horn and turned to face me. ‘And where has God hidden the precious carbuncle to demonstrate its great worth?’ he demanded.
I shifted my feet uncomfortably. ‘I do not know, Your Majesty.’
‘In the skull of the asp or within the head of a dragon. That is where you find the carbuncle.’ He looked triumphant. ‘There are those who question that fact, just as they question the existence of the unicorn, but no more!’
He twirled the unicorn’s horn. ‘Sigwulf, you are to press ahead with the embassy to the caliph. You must cross the Alps before the snow closes the passes on your way south.’
‘And the aurochs?’ I ventured to ask. I noticed that he used the word embassy rather than mission. It seemed that my task had acquired extra status.
‘I’m still sending the aurochs as my giant beast, though it can’t match his elephant in size. You’ll be taking just a single one. My verderers could not trace another.’
He hefted the horn again. ‘But this I will keep with me. I will enjoy seeing the expression on the face of my doubting councillor.’
It was strange to see the king as elated as a child with a new toy. ‘Sigwulf, you’ve done well. I shall not forget the service you have rendered.’
I took it as a dismissal, bowed, and backed away towards the door.
‘Go and see Alcuin,’ were the royal parting words. ‘He will arrange all that is needed and can provide the necessary letters of introduction. And you’ll find he has an additional gift for you to hand over to the caliph.’