The Last Polar Bear

Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Jakte - chase

I remember the first time I saw Them. It was not long after Nanna's tale. I also remember the sick feeling of my betrayal, for I had caused it.

Her story had stayed with me and continued to conjure strange images of the bare-skin's face, twisted by the vivid imagination of a young björn: haunting features swam in the murky waters of my thoughts, always changing shape and form. The thought of them scared me, but my fascination persisted until it was too late.

I could sense them even before I heard the raging noise crashing upon us. It was my doing: my inner sight had given them power. They had heard my summons and followed its call.

The unnatural thunder of their skymonster beat within me, replacing the panicked flutter of my own heart. It came from the south, borne on the wind like some terrible omen. Its shadow fell on us, around us, the sheer power of its wings lifting the ice and whipping it into our eyes.

It circled in front and hovered to block our escape. Then I saw them. They sat inside the belly of the beast, like restless young, too eager to be born. They looked strange to me. Their skin was not like ours, but covered with a fur I could not comprehend, both bulky and cumbersome. One of the bare had a long object - smooth and shiny. When he leaned forward and pointed it at Nanna, the words of her story came flooding back and I finally understood.

'No!' I squealed.

But before my cry could even finish, the unspeakable force struck, twisting her sideways as she ran. She fought to keep her legs moving but it was no good. They became heavy and weak, eventually giving way to her bulk. Nanna crashed to the ice and slid to a gradual stop.

'Mother!' Tórbjörn cried, as we both ran to her. We called again but she did not reply. She breathed in quick, shallow gasps with her tongue lolling to one side. 'What's the matter with her? What did they do?' my brother asked.

We were helpless.

By now, the skymonster had settled only a few lengths away. I licked Nanna's face to try and make her get up but she did not move. I noticed a strange black claw sticking out of her neck, rising up and down with each short breath. 'Nanna, please...' I whimpered, but it was no use. The bare-skin were upon us.

They moved on two legs instead of four to show us their strength but they seemed clumsy, padding on the ice towards us. Being only small we proved no danger. Their bodies were covered in a strange, bright fur, like Solen's dying light. When they approached, Tórbjörn tried his growl to scare them but they did not seem to notice and caught him with a thin strip that ran around his neck. Tórbjörn tried to pull against it but it tightened, restricting any attempt to get away. I wanted to run but I could not leave Nanna or my brother. Where would I go? Without them I was nothing.

One of the bare settled by my mother, looking into her eyes and speaking to the others in a language I could not understand. He watched her breath slow to a steady rhythm whilst stroking her. I realised through my fear that his face and words were not those of attack, but those of calm. Another patted my head and gave me some food. It smelt like the sea but it was not fresh. I sniffed at it, suspicious of its odour, but Tórbjörn had already eaten his offering so I thought I would do the same.

The lead bare-skin then removed something from his fur and spoke to the smaller one of the three. They fell to the ground and began to lift Nanna's head. I went to them and cried not to hurt her, but they ignored me and placed a thick white mark around her neck. It was hard and smooth and clung to her fur. I tried to bite at it in order to stop them but to no effect. The smaller bare made a light heaving noise and the others copied him. He lifted me to one side talking his strange words as he did so. Rubbing my fur again, he offered more food but I ignored him - I wanted to know what they were doing to Nanna.

Tórbjörn's yelp distracted me.

He had been hoisted into the air, gathered in an awkward bundle by the thin strips that crossed around him. They were pinned together at the top by tightly wound circles that stretched under his weight. The third bare seemed interested by this. He stared at the object, said words to the small one and then lowered Tórbjörn, removing the strips. Then it was my turn. It felt strange, temporarily floating above the ground like a skydweller just before it lands, although as soon as I had become used to the feeling they returned me to the ice.

The leader removed the claw from Nanna and pushed something fine and sharp deep into her side. He pulled against it, filling it with the familiar gooey red of lifeblood. When he pulled it out he rubbed Nanna's neck and spoke softly, repeating a word he had used before when he touched the mark.

As quickly as they came, they left us.

The roar swelled in our ears as the skymonster lifted and fell upwards, retreating into the sky. It went back to the south, melting into the distant line of the tundâr. Nanna could still not move but finally recovered her speech. 'Are you all right?' I asked.

'Yes,' she replied. Her words were quiet. 'But my legs are asleep. My strength will return soon - do not be concerned.'

'What did they do to you, mother?' Tórbjörn asked, rubbing his head against hers. 'When you fell I thought your spirit had gone.'

'I am fine. It was not my spirit, I could see and hear all, yet I could not speak. I am sorry to have worried you.' With that, she stirred and sat up.

'What did they want with us?' I asked.

'I have heard of such things, but have never seen it with my own eyes. These are not like the others. They come to watch us and leave their mark.' She rubbed her neck on the ice trying to remove it but it held firm.

I looked at it closer. 'What does it mean?'

'I do not understand all of their ways, but I do know the stories of their mark grow.'

'Why did they not mark us?'

'As far as I have heard,' Nanna said, shaking her head to clear her senses, 'they only ever mark the mother, never her cubs.'

'Oh,' I said, puzzled. 'But they did not call it mark - they called it something else.'

Nanna looked at me. 'You understood them?'

'No, but I think the leader called it a strange name.'

'What was it?' she asked.

'It sounded like kølla.'