Lord Asriel didnt a first. Lyra heard the snap of metal clips and a hiss as air rushed into a vessel, and then there was a silence. But the silence didnt last long. After a moment or two Lyra heard a fused babble break out:
cries of horror, loud protests, voices raised in anger and fear.
「But what—」
「—hardly human—」
「—its been—」
「—whats happeo it?」
The Masters voice cut through them all.
「Lord Asriel, what in Gods name have you got there?」
「This is the head of Stanislaus Grumman,」 said Lord Asriels voice.
Over the jumble of voices Lyra heard someoumble to the door and out, making i sounds of distress. She wished she could see what they were seeing.
Lord Asriel said, 「I found his body preserved in the ice off Svalbard. The head was treated in this way by his killers. Youll notice the characteristic scalping pattern. I think you might be familiar with it, Sub-Rector.」
The old mans voice was steady as he said, 「I have seeartars do this.
Its a teique you find among the abinals of Siberia and the Tungusk. From there, of course, it spread into the lands of the Skraelings, though I uand that it is now banned in New Denmark. May I exami more closely, Lord Asriel?」
After a short silence he spoke again.
「My eyes are not very clear, and the ice is dirty, but it seems to me that there is a hole iop of the skull. Am I right?」
「You are.」
「Trepanning?」
「Exactly.」
That caused a murmur of excitement. The Master moved out of the way and Lyra could see again. The old Sub-Rector, in the circle of light thrown by the lantern, was holding a heavy block of ice up close to his eyes, and Lyra could see the objeside it: a bloody lump barely reizable as a human head.
Pantalaimon fluttered around Lyra, his distress affeg her.
「Hush,」 she whispered. 「Listen.」
「Dr. Grumman was once a Scholar of this College,」 said the Dean hotly.
"To fall into the hands of the Tartars—" "But that far north?" "They must have peed further than anyone imagined!" "Did I hear you say you found it near Svalbard?" said the Dean.
"Thats right." "Are we to uand that the panserbj0rne had anything to do with this?" Lyra didnt reize that word, but clearly the Scholars did.
"Impossible," said the Cassington Scholar firmly. "Theyd never behave in that manner." "Then you dont know lofur Raknison," said the Palmerian Professor, who had made several expeditions himself to the arctic regions. "It wouldnt surprise me at all to learn that he had taken to scalping people iartar fashion." Lyra looked again at her uncle, atg the Scholars with a glitter of sardonic amusement, and saying nothing.
"Who is lofur Raknison?" said someohe king of Svalbard," said the Palmerian Professor. "Yes, thats right, one of the panserb)0me. Hes a usurper, of sorts; tricked his way onto the throne, or so I uand; but a powerful figure, by no means a fool, in spite of his ludicrous affectations—having a palace built of imported marble—setting up what he calls a uy—" "For whom? For the bears?" said someone else, and every-one laughed.
But the Palmerian Professor went on: "For all that, I tell you that lofur Raknison would be capable of doing this to Grumman. At the same time, he could be flattered into behaving quite differently, if the need arose." "And you know how, do you, Trelawney?" said the Dean sneeringly.
"Indeed I do. Do you know what he wants above all el