Fights between bears were on, and the subjeuch ritual. For a bear to kill another was rare, though, and when that happe was usually by act, or when one bear mistook the signals from another, as in the case of lorek Byrnison. Cases of straightforward murder, like lofurs killing of his own father, were rarer still.
But occasionally there came circumstances in which the only way of settling a dispute was a fight to the death. And for that, a whole ceremonial rescribed.
As soon as lofur annouhat lorek Byrnison was on his way, and a bat would take place, the bat ground was swept and smoothed, and armorers came up from the fire mio check lofurs armor. Every rivet was examined, every lied, and the plates were burnished with the fi sand. Just as much attention aid to his claws. The gold leaf was rubbed off, and each separate six-inch hook was sharpened and filed to a deadly point. Lyra watched with a growing siess i of her stomach, for lorek Byrnison wouldnt be having this attention; he had been marg over the ice for nearly twenty-four hours already without rest or food; he might have been injured in the crash. And she had let him in for this fight without his knowledge. At one point, after lofur Raknison had tested the sharpness of his claws on a fresh-killed walrus, slig its skin open like paper, and the power of his crashing blows on the walruss skull (two blows, and it was cracked like an egg), Lyra had to make an excuse to lofur and go away by herself to weep with fear.
Even Pantalaimon, who could normally cheer her up, had little to say that was hopeful. All she could do was sult the alethiometer: he is an hour away, it told her, and again, she must trust him; and (this was harder to read) she even thought it was rebuking her for asking the same question twice.
By this time, word had spread among the bears, and every part of the bat ground was crowded. Bears of high rank had the best places, and there ecial enclosure for the she-bears, including, of course, lofurs wives. Lyra rofoundly curious about she-bears, because she knew so little about them, but this was no time to wander about asking questions. Instead she stayed close to lofur Raknison and watched the courtiers around him assert their rank over the on bears from outside, and tried to guess the meaning of the various plumes and badges and tokens they all seemed to wear. Some of the highest-ranking, she saw, carried little manikins like lofurs rag-doll daemon, trying to curry favor, perhaps, by imitating the fashion hed begun. She was sardonically pleased to notice that when they saw that lofur had discarded his, they didnt know what to do with theirs. Should they throw them away? Were they out of favor now? How should they behave?
{ Because that was the prevailing mood in his court, she was beginning to see.
They werent sure what they were. They werent like lorek Byrnison, pure aain and absolute; there was a stant pall of uainty hanging over them, as they watched one another and watched lofur.
And they watched her, with open curiosity. She remained modestly close to lofur and said nothing, l her eyes whenever a bear looked at her.
The fog had lifted by this time, and the air was clear; and as ce would have it, the brief lifting of darkoward noon cided with the time Lyra thought lorek was going to arrive. As she stood shivering on a little rise of dense-packed snow at the edge of the bat ground, she looked up toward the faint ligh