by Severin, Tim
I took it from Sulaiman and was surprised how light it was, much thinner than the heavy earthenware pots we had seen in Ifriquia.
‘Whoever made this does fine workmanship. The people living here must be very skilled craftsmen,’ I told him.
‘My men found at least a dozen similar fragments, all lying close together,’ said Sulaiman. ‘They believe that they were not made by any human hands, and this frightens them.’
I looked again at the delicate pot fragment. ‘I think we should go and judge for ourselves,’ I said.
Guided by one of the sailors we walked up the beach and over a low ridge to find ourselves on ground overgrown with rough grass and straggly underbrush. The sailor stopped at the edge of a circular patch some four or five feet across. Here the grass had once been pressed down flat though now it was beginning to grow again.
Scattered on the ground were several more fragments of the bowls. Most were the same size as the sample I had been shown. Others were larger, seven or eight inches across.
‘What do they remind you of?’ asked Sulaiman softly.
It was Osric who answered. ‘That looks to me like some sort of nest. Those fragments are bits of bird shell.’
I felt a fool for not seeing the truth sooner.
I stooped down, gathered up several larger fragments, and tried to fit them together into a single piece. The egg that they would have formed was enormous, more than a foot in length.
I looked up at Sulaiman. ‘What do your sailors think?’ I asked.
‘They believe they are the eggs of a rukh,’ he said. ‘A small one, but nevertheless a rukh. That’s why they’re scared. They are frightened that the creature might suddenly swoop down on us and pluck us away.’
Oddly enough, I felt cheated. In my mind I had already abandoned the quest for griffin or rukh. To find signs of its possible existence was unsettling.
‘Other creatures lay eggs,’ I objected. ‘Crawling creatures like the crocodiles we saw on the banks of the Nile . . . and serpents.’ After seeing a snake kill Walo, the sight of the huge eggs had sent a shiver down my spine. ‘If these are serpent eggs then the animal is huge and very dangerous. We should leave this place undisturbed.’
Osric disagreed. ‘These are bird’s eggs, Sigwulf. Serpents, crocodiles, turtles . . . their eggs don’t have hard shells. If Walo was here, he would tell you the same.’
Mention of Walo jolted me. I knew what Walo would have done. He would have known immediately that they were eggshell fragments from a gigantic bird, just as he had known that the mysterious black beak found in the whale’s phlegm came from a meat-eating creature. If he had been with us, he would have been thirsting to find the creature and learn more. The thought made me ashamed of my own timidity. If already I were responsible for bringing Walo to his death in Africa, soon I would find it even more difficult to live with the knowledge that I had chosen to throw aside the chance to carry out his last wish.
Standing there holding the pieces of a huge egg, I made my choice: I would locate a nest still in use by a griffin or rukh, take a couple of fledglings from it, and bring them to Baghdad and Aachen for all to wonder at. No one else need be involved.
‘Why don’t you and your men carry on attending to the ship,’ I suggested to Sulaiman, ‘I will see if I can find a rukh’s nest that has got complete eggs in it, or even chicks, and be back by dark. Then we can decide what we should do next.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Osric insisted. ‘Two people will cover more ground than one.’
The shipmaster did not argue. ‘If you’re not back by morning, my men will assume you have fallen victim to the rukh, and insist on leaving this place. I will not be able to prevent them.’
Without another word Sulaiman and his sailor headed back to the beach, leaving Osric and myself standing by the abandoned nest.
I gazed inland where the heat haze obscured whatever lay beyond forest-clad hills. I was thinking back to my search for the white gyrfalcons.
‘The griffin and the rukh are said to be like giant eagles. They build their nests among the mountain crags. Yet this creature lays its eggs on flat ground. That doesn’t seem right.’
‘Whether the creature flies or crawls or walks on legs, we would be wise to go cautiously,’ said Osric. ‘Let’s start by looking around for tracks.’
Together we began to search the area. It was mostly scrubland with a few clumps of stunted trees among the tangle of thickets and rough grasses. We had been searching for perhaps an hour, circling the nest and checking the ground, when we found a second nest. This time it was in use. A clutch of half a dozen huge eggs lay on the ground. The undergrowth around the nest had been pressed down by a heavy weight, and the nest was less than an arrow’s flight from a small lake. A well-marked trail led through the undergrowth towards the water. Several more tracks indicated that the creature patrolled around the margins of the lake, and that worried me. Thoughts of crocodiles and water serpents came into my head.
Osric went up to the nest and laid a hand on an egg. ‘It is warm,’ he said. ‘The parent cannot be far off.’
He crouched down, listening, then touched the egg again. ‘I think I detect something moving. I believe the eggs will hatch soon.’
A tight knot of fear gathered in my stomach. I was remembering the terror I had felt back in the forest when the aurochs had appeared behind Vulfard and me. ‘We mustn’t be caught between the beast and its nest. That could be dangerous,’ I said.
‘If it is a crawling beast that comes from the lake, then we would be safer if we were off the ground,’ Osric answered. He pointed to a nearby grove of trees. ‘If we can get ourselves up into one of those trees, facing the nest, we should be safe, and have a good view.’
We made our way to the grove and managed to find a tree into which we could climb ten or twelve feet off the ground. Branches and leaves partially blocked our view, but the path leading to the nest passed less than ten feet away.
For an hour or two we crouched among the branches, tormented by insects and growing increasingly uncomfortable as the branches dug into us. Lying in wait for the aurochs, beside Vulfard, had been damp and tedious but more comfortable. My shoulder wound began to ache again.
We heard the creature before we saw it. It was the sound of a large animal coming towards us through the underbrush, moving confidently, a little clumsily. Once or twice I thought I heard the sound of a heavy footfall.
We clung to the branches, peering down the track.
The creature stamped past, very close. Osric and I were nine feet off the ground, yet the creature’s head was on a level with us. It was massive. I held my breath in case it turned its head and saw us. The eyes were bright and beady and the beak was a heavy, pointed spear and sharp enough to do serious damage. The body was covered with a heavy coat of dark brown feathery bristles. A glimpse of the massive claws at the end of its two scaly legs, thicker than my thigh, made me shiver. Each claw was nine or ten inches long.
The animal reached its nest, and stood there, peering about as if seeking an enemy. Then, squatting backwards, it lowered itself down to cover the clutch of huge eggs. Even when the beast was seated, the head on the snake-like neck was five feet above the ground.
Osric and I waited for the creature to settle before we cautiously climbed down and crept away, keeping the grove of trees between the beast and us.
After we had gone perhaps two hundred paces, Osric turned and looked at me. ‘That was neither griffin nor rukh. It cannot fly,’ he said. The wings had been little more than stumps.
‘It’s not in the Book of Beasts,’ I said. ‘There’s a creature called an ostrich which it resembles. But it is nothing like as big and massive.’
‘What do we do now?’ Osric asked.
‘Nothing,’ I replied. I had already come to a decision as we were creeping away from the giant bird.
Osric gave me a look that was full of understanding. ‘You’re thinking of Walo, aren’t you?’
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I nodded. ‘He was so certain that the Book of Beasts is correct and he died because of it. Today we’ve only learned that those huge eggs belong to a different beast, neither rukh nor griffin. That doesn’t prove that such creatures don’t exist somewhere else.’
My friend knew me well enough to understand what I had in mind. ‘So we report to Sulaiman that we failed to find the creature that laid the eggs.’
‘Exactly. Then the search for the rukh and griffin will continue, and even be encouraged. The sailors already believe they’ve seen rukh’s eggs.’
Osric considered before replying. ‘If we bring back news of that extraordinary creature we’ve just seen, Musa’s colleagues in the caliph’s library can add it to the Book of Beasts and from there it will spread far and wide.’ He treated me to a quick, conspiratorial grin. ‘But I agree with you: it is better that we encourage the search for the griffin in the hope that Walo’s trust will one day be justified. And I have a suggestion.’
I looked at him enquiringly. ‘What’s that?’
‘We return to that empty nest, gather up as many fragments of the eggshells as we can find, and bring them back to Baghdad. Let others draw their own conclusions.’
Chapter Eighteen
THROUGHOUT THE LONG, dreary voyage back to al-Ubullah, everyone on board was exhausted and dispirited. Walo’s grisly death continued to cast its shadow. Osric and I passed many hours in shared gloomy silence, and it was obvious that Zaynab had been deeply affected too. Quieter and more withdrawn than on the outward trip, her sadness revealed itself in the way she sat by herself in her customary place on the foredeck, staring out towards the horizon. Had the situation been different I would have gone over to talk with her and tried to ease the common sorrow. But Walo’s death served to increase my previous reticence. I was very much in love with Zaynab and it made me fearful that I would mishandle the situation with a clumsy intrusion on her grief. Again and again I told myself to wait until we were back in Baghdad. There I would find the right moment to reveal my feelings. With a lover’s stubborn blindness I pushed aside all thoughts that Zaynab was returning to her former life as Nadim Jaffar’s costly slave-singer. Somehow the obstacle would be overcome. All that mattered to me was that somehow I would find a way into Zaynab’s affections so that we shared the same feelings for one another, and together we would explore where it might lead. That heady prospect helped me endure the miserable ordeal of our homeward journey.
When we docked in al-Ubullah, the barid’s agents whisked Zaynab away to bring her more speedily to Jaffar’s home while Osric and I proceeded upstream to Baghdad by barge. There Jaffar’s steward was waiting on the quayside to bring us to meet his master.
*
‘I was losing hope of ever listening to my favourite singer again,’ said the nadim with a welcoming smile when we were ushered into his presence. Attended by a secretary, Jaffar received us in a small, open courtyard in his riverside palace where the steward had taken us straight from the docks. The nadim was evidently not due to meet the caliph, for Jaffar was no longer wearing black, but dressed in loose trousers of white silk, a long purple tunic, and a light cloak of the same colour trimmed with gold. Bare-headed, he was standing in the shade of a miniature pavilion of yellow-and-blue striped silk erected among the immaculately tended flowerbeds. Even here in the open air, I noted, the air was subtly scented with perfume and I wondered how soon Sulaiman intended to deliver his precious lump of whale phlegm to his patron.
Inside the carpeted pavilion were soft cushions and a tray with a jug and cups for guests, but Jaffar did not invite us to be seated. It was clear that he was in a hurry. ‘My young friend Abdallah will want to know how you got on with your search for the rukh,’ he said.
‘Your Excellency,’ I began, ‘we found traces of the creature, but not the rukh itself.’ I unfolded the length of velvet I was carrying and showed him the largest fragment of the eggshells Osric and I had gathered. ‘We came across what we believed was a rukh’s nest but it had been abandoned. Here is a piece from one of the eggs.’
Jaffra took the eggshell from me and examined it. ‘I shall give this to Abdallah, though I doubt it will settle his argument with the crown prince about the existence of the rukh. I expect there will be a deadlock.’
He beckoned to a waiting attendant and handed him the eggshell. His voice took on a more formal tone. ‘The Commander of the Faithful has instructed me to make the arrangements for your return to Frankia.’
Anxiously I waited for him to continue. A wild, irrational idea surfaced in my mind: maybe I could persuade Zaynab to come with me . . . that Jaffar would allow her to leave.
‘You will be attached to a return mission to the court of the King of the Franks,’ the nadim continued. ‘The mission takes a further message of goodwill from the Commander of the Faithful.’
There was a brief interruption as someone appeared at the entrance to the courtyard. He looked like a member of the vizier’s staff, anxious to call away his master. Jaffar flicked a dismissive finger and the man ducked back out of sight.
‘May I ask when the mission is expected to leave?’ I asked.
‘In three weeks’ time. There will also be gifts, among them another elephant. I am told that the previous animal he sent died before it had reached its destination.’
‘I will do my best to ensure that the elephant survives the journey this time.’ Abram, our former dragoman, must have reported to the caliph’s secretariat what had happened to the first elephant. ‘It is unfortunate that my assistant, the man best suited for caring for animals, lost his life in Zanj.’
‘The health of the elephant need not concern you,’ Jaffar assured me smoothly. ‘The elephant will be given to the charge of experienced handlers. It is your experience of the route that will be valued. I would be grateful if you could give them the benefit of your advice during the journey.’
‘I will do everything in my power, Your Excellency.’
Out of the corner of my eye I was aware of another movement in the archway. A different staff member was hovering, clearly anxious that the nadim should conclude the interview and attend to other business.
The vizier treated me to a quick smile. ‘Prince Abdallah was telling me about that book you brought with you from Frankia, the one with animal descriptions. He found it fascinating.’
‘King Carolus had it specially prepared for the Commander of the Faithful. It lists all the animals we know of, with notes in Arabic as well as Frankish.’
‘Arabic and Frankish? Young Abdallah didn’t mention that.’
‘I took the book with me to Zanj and the caliph required that I place it in the royal library afterwards,’ I volunteered.
‘Then I’ll have the librarian send it over to me in due course. It will be a good text for the prince to study. As his tutor I believe he should learn something of your Frankish script.’
Jaffar gathered his cloak around him, making ready to leave. ‘I am sorry to hear about the death of your assistant,’ he said graciously. ‘A journey is often marred by mishaps, however carefully it is planned. With the help of God, your return to Frankia will be trouble free.’
Then he was on his way out of the courtyard, hurrying through an archway in a swirl of expensive silk, and leaving Osric and me standing in the exquisite garden. My friend cleared his throat with a small, strained cough.
‘Sigwulf,’ he said, sounding more serious than I could ever remember, ‘I will not be accompanying you back to Aachen.’
I gaped at him. All my life I had known Osric, right from the earliest days when he had been a slave in my father’s household. It had never occurred to me that he might choose to go his own way and no longer be my companion.
‘You’ve decided to stay in Baghdad?’ I blurted. ‘Why?’
My friend looked me in the eye. ‘I feel I have a future here.’
My head swam. ‘A future? How is that? You know no one. How will you find employment? Somewhere to live?�
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‘I hope to be taken on as a member of Nadim Jaffar’s household.’
‘As what?’ I demanded. I was so taken aback that I spoke more sharply than was justified.
Osric spread his hands in a gesture of apology. He knew he had shaken me. ‘I have some medical knowledge, or I could join Jaffar’s secretariat. As a senior vizier he needs a large staff. I could be useful to him.’
My thoughts were in turmoil. ‘Have you approached Jaffar about this?’ I demanded bitterly, my voice tailing away as I realized the truth.
The voyage back from Zanj had been long and sombre, overshadowed by the memory of Walo’s death. On most days Osric and Zaynab had spent many hours together, sitting on the foredeck and talking quietly.
‘Zaynab is asking Jaffar on your behalf, isn’t she?’ I said, trying not to sound accusing.
‘Sigwulf, I’m hoping you will understand my decision,’ Osric explained gently. ‘I feel more at home here in Baghdad than I ever did in Aachen.’ He gave a wan smile. ‘Even with the summer heat, the weather suits me better. I have fewer aches and pains than in the damp northern climes.’
‘And what happens if Jaffar will not add you to his staff?’ I demanded.
My friend’s answer was firm. ‘Then I will offer my services to the royal librarian. My knowledge of Hispania and the northern lands will help them in compiling maps and registers of foreign countries.’
‘Are you sure about this?’
Osric shifted on his feet, but his steady gaze held mine. ‘I’ve thought long and hard about the best thing to do. I would hate you to think that I am abandoning you, but I see my future here in the caliphate.’
‘And Zaynab? Is she in your future too?’ I knew I was sounding resentful.
Osric shook his head. ‘She’s less than half my age, more like a wise daughter that I never had. Remember that we share an experience of slavery and that makes one dream of a quiet settled life in charge of one’s own daily existence.
‘Yet Zaynab is still a slave,’ I said.