The Amber Seeker

by Mandy Haggith

  I bowed deeply. I could not help myself. I knew I was in the presence of power. Real power, not the steely control that people make by ruling over other people, enslaving them, and making grand buildings and structures of rules and rituals to prop themselves up. No, this woman embodied the raw power of nature.

  When she spoke her voice was deep and smooth as a river. The pilot translated. ‘The Greatmother welcomes you to this amber shore.’

  I wondered whether the Greatmother was the name of the woman or whether she in turn had referred to a deity. Perhaps both. It did not matter. We were blessed by the presence and welcome of a goddess.

  She spoke again. ‘The bears will expect gifts. Do you bring gifts for them? Are you ready for their judgement?’

  I looked at Ussa. To my surprise, she was trembling, her face a rictus. The old woman looked calmly at her, before turning her glimmering gaze on me. Ussa’s terror set me on edge, and yet I felt drawn to this majestic crone.

  ‘I have gold and silver,’ I said.

  ‘Are you ready for judgement?’ she repeated.

  I did not know what this meant. Glancing behind me I saw Toma and the slaves bunched together defensively between Ussa and me and the boat, as if ready to take flight.

  The old woman was waiting for an answer.

  ‘We are ready,’ I said.

  Ussa breathed out and took a small shuffle back, then stopped, as if pinned by the crone’s stare.

  ‘Give me the gem.’

  I turned my head and watched as Ussa reached inside her big white coat and produced the pebble of amber. She held it out to the crone, who plucked it from her palm and lifted it to the light, scrutinising it.

  ‘Who found this?’ The pilot’s voice followed hers like a coracle drawn on a current.

  Ussa gestured behind her and Og took a step forwards.

  ‘It has something within it. Come, look.’ She waved him towards her.

  He walked up the beach warily.

  ‘You are a slave.’ It was barely a question.

  He nodded.

  ‘Here is your freedom.’ She handed the pebble to him.

  He examined it closely, then quizzically looked up at the Greatmother.

  ‘Come.’ She turned on her heel and led us away.

  There were a dozen or so other people with her and they surrounded us. I realised they were carrying spears. They marched the three of us away, myself following the old woman, Og at my back and Ussa behind him. We were flanked on all sides by the armed retinue of the Greatmother. The pilot stayed on the beach with Toma, Li and Faradh, and when I looked back they were following us at a distance.

  *

  We were taken to a place of what I took at first to be natural mounds with flowers growing on them, but when I realised smoke was coming out of their tops I realised they were buildings entirely coated with turf. We were led into the largest of these. Inside, huge timbers arched over a big oval space. The smell inside was almost overpowering. I could not make out what it was.

  Then, as my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw that at one end there were three brown bears chained to massive wooden posts that held up the roof. I took them to be emblems of Artemis, proof that my quest for her sacred material was soon to be fulfilled. Two of the bears were adult, the third a cub. The biggest of the adults lay sleeping. The other, mangy and thin, paced backwards and forwards. The cub was sitting up with a branch of some sort held in all four paws, gnawing on it.

  Still, the smell could not be the musk of these bears alone. In one corner, two women were sifting a huge pile of flowers and leaves on a wicker framework, presumably a drying platform. I was reminded of the way my mother dried rose petals and lavender from her garden to put among her clothes during the winter. But this was flower-drying on a scale I had never imagined. From the mound a rich pungent aroma wafted.

  ‘The bears.’ The Greatmother was gesturing to them as if introducing us. She walked confidently forward and the pacing animal allowed her to approach it and stroke it between the ears. She touched a bald patch where it must have been rubbing against its post and it tossed its head away in discomfort.

  The sleeping bear woke, lifted its snout and turned its head towards us. The cub dropped its stick and trotted towards the Greatmother until stopped by its chain. It stood, straining at its limit until she approached it and fed it something from inside the folds of her coat. It gulped it down and clearly wanted more.

  Ussa had wandered over to the flower sifters and idly stirred her hand among the petals, lifting a few to her nose and smiling at the women there, who stared blandly back at all of us. One of them began to drag a bench out from beside the wall, then stopped at a word from the Greatmother, pushed it back and instead took some skins from a pile net to the bench and laid them out on the floor just beyond the reach of the bears. Three deer hides, like puddles, several paces apart in a line. Then the Greatmother gestured to the three of us to sit, one on each skin.

  Og tugged me on the sleeve. He was proffering his piece of amber. ‘Look!’ He pointed at one end of it. ‘Put it to the light.’

  I took it from him and held it towards the doorway and examined it as I had been taught. It was a lovely shade of orange, flame-coloured, and slightly crazed. It was the shape of a small pear, and as I rotated the bulbous end I saw a fleck of something. I squinted, turned it a bit more and then I saw what it was: a little moth, tiny, perfect, trapped inside the stone. How long had it been there? How had it got in there? How was that possible? Had this solid once been liquid? Had it flowed and caught up this little insect and solidified around it, sealing it away? And if so, how long ago?

  I looked up. Og was beaming at me. The Greatmother watched us with a benign expression, as if approving of attention being paid to the amber. Ussa was frowning at the bears.

  I passed Og his amber and the Greatmother made it clear that I should sit on the leftmost hide. Og was placed in the middle, Ussa on the right. She seemed resistant to the idea of sitting, but the old woman was implacable and eventually she did as was required. I wonder now if she suspected what was coming.

  The crone said something to the two women and they brought handfuls of the plants they were drying. They strewed a sweet, green herb in a circle around Og. Then the younger woman scattered a ring of little pink clover flowers, like fluffy balls, around my mat. Finally, Ussa was surrounded by white petals – daisies perhaps.

  I asked Miki what was going on but the Greatmother said something to him. He put his finger to his lips to indicate I must not speak any more. ‘The bears will judge you.’ I handed over my gift of three silver coins and he passed them silently to the old woman, who tucked them away without reaction.

  JUDGEMENT

  The Greatmother ushered the two women away out of the hall, and closed the door behind them. She stepped across the room towards the bears and proceeded to loosen them from their chains, first the cub, then the sleeping adult and finally the pacing animal. The cub immediately ran to the sleeping bear and as the Greatmother undid its chain, it seemed to wake from its stupor. It cuffed the cub away, but so gently that the youngster simply rolled and ran back in to snuggle. Was this its mother, I wondered? But it was not motherly, and shoved the cub aside, so I concluded not. The cub ran to the other bear, gambolling and happy to play. The thin, pacing bear continued to march its habitual steps as if oblivious to the lack of chain, and it ignored the cub as it would a fly.

  The Greatmother had taken up a perch on a big wooden chair in the corner and was watching intently, holding an ivory wand in one hand. Miki stood behind her, ready to translate. But all my attention was focused on the bears: the creatures of Artemis!

  The cub returned to the snoozing bear and rammed its snout into its side with a grunting squeak. The big bear stirred again and the cub had to get out of the way to avoid being rolled on. Faced with the impassive back of the animal, the cub tried to make it rock, pushing with both front paws, but it was like trying to push a boulder and there
was no response.

  The cub then trotted over to the Greatmother, who patted it on the head, but when it tried to climb up onto her legs she pushed it down and gently kicked it away. So then it decided to come and investigate us.

  I was closest. It stepped warily towards my mat, sniffing. I sat stock still as it familiarised itself with my legs. Curious, it investigated my face with its snout. As damp nostrils touched my nose I breathed out, a tiny snort. The cub jumped back as if I had hit it, and eyed me, scratching at the deer hide. Then it turned aside and approached Og.

  He must have smelled good, because the cub stepped more confidently towards him, making a beeline for his pocket, where it turned out there was a stash of nuts. Og’s hand and the bear’s snout struggled for control of the pocket and soon the creature was literally eating out of one of Og’s hands, while with the other he scratched it between the ears. It was an instant friendship. It takes a slave to trust a slave, I thought.

  The gift of nuts exhausted, the cub bored of Og and decided to explore what Ussa had to offer. The sound of nuts between teeth had caught the attention of both the other bears. The pacing animal had stopped and was staring towards Og, trembling at the extremity of its non-existent chain, nose twitching. The bigger bear tilted its ears back and forth, lifted its head and shifted its paws. Then it sat up like a dog, head raised, scenting the air. In one smooth move it was on its feet, its full bulk awesome and huge. It took a few steps until it was breathing over Og, who put his hands in his pocket and opened it out.

  ‘It’s empty, I’m sorry.’ His voice seemed very small.

  The bear huffed and Og flinched, but the big animal simply turned its back on him, licked up some of the herbs and padded away.

  At that moment the pacing bear broke free of its non-chain and was suddenly on top of Og, nosing in his pocket, rummaging him for non-existent food. He was pushed to the ground as the bear tore at his coat, its long claws scratching him greedily.

  ‘I’ve nothing for you. The cub got them.’ Og shoved the bear off. It gave way, surprisingly, as if disliking being touched and stood just out of arm’s reach with a look of shock in its eyes, staring at Og as if trying to make a difficult calculation. Then it lowered its head and took a mouthful of the scattered herbs, its long tongue rasping the floor as it scooped them up. Spotting the clover flowers surrounding me, it turned its attention to them.

  I sat frozen to my mat as the bear approached.

  Then Ussa said, ‘Get off,’ and we all, including the big bear, looked towards her. ‘Get off, get off, get off!’ The cub was clawing at her, standing with its hind legs firmly grasping her fur coat, its front legs pawing at her head, snout chewing her hair. She batted at the little creature with her arm, but it clung on. The biggest bear approached, sniffed the ring of flowers around her and its tongue swooped up a strip of them. Then it too was snuffling at Ussa. The poor woman screamed in panic, flailing, but her punches did not seem to remotely interest the huge animal, which remained placid, systematically smelling her, as if making up its mind where to take the first bite.

  I felt the hairs go up on the back of my neck and then something touched my cheek. Hot breath in my ear. My eyes swivelled and met those of the scrawny bear, too close. Far too close.

  Its tongue rasped across my face. Huge teeth. The smell almost made me swoon. I knew every level of fear. I could not breathe. I wet myself like a child. I do not think I cried out. I had no breath to call with.

  You know, because you are reading this, that I must have survived. But I had no such knowledge and I was certain of my doom. Those fangs were sure to take hold of my flesh. They were my destiny. I waited for the puncture, for the pain.

  I remember breathing out, then breathing in again and thinking, as the air flowed in to me, that this was my last breath. And then I breathed it out and felt strangely at peace.

  The bear licked me again and snorted onto my face. I inhaled the breath of the bear, savouring it, tasting the impossibility of this moment of life. I was light-headed, crazed with fear. The bear rubbed the underside of its snout across my head, side to side, pressing down on me with the weight of its head.

  I bent my neck and the pressure eased. A shout from Ussa jerked my attention sideways and seemed also to disturb the bear, which jumped aside.

  Ussa screamed again, a series of short shrieks, and then a long, high wailing. She was hunched in a ball. She had taken off her coat, and the cub was playing with it, trying to work out how to make this big, white inert bear respond.

  The big bear was batting at Ussa with its paw, like a cat playing with a mouse. Ussa’s hand was over one eye and I could see blood pouring down that side of her face. She was trying to mop it and her hands were bloody too. The bear huffed, and cuffed her again.

  ‘The bear knows you are guilty. What do you say?’ It was the Greatmother’s voice.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ Ussa was sobbing, hunched. The bear stood over her.

  The animal beside me licked up more clover flowers, then seemed to lose interest in me. It began munching on the greenery surrounding Og. He sat with his knees up to his chest, trying to take as little space as possible. The bear, ignoring Og completely, worked its way systematically around him, then joined the bigger animal beside Ussa.

  The cub was still playing with the coat but everyone else’s attention was riveted on the terrified woman, whose sobbing gradually abated. When she fell quiet, the big bear batted her again, as if shaking her awake, or prompting her to continue. It had blood on its paw, and as it stepped aside it left red claw prints among the white petals strewn around her, tinting the flower pool as though it were the white of a bloodshot eye.

  The Greatmother sat watching, impassive. ‘Confess.’ Her voice was a bark, the pilot’s an echo.

  Ussa began jabbering. ‘I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I did it, I did it, I admit it, I killed him, I couldn’t stand it, I just couldn’t do it, so I killed him, but it’s all over now. It was a long time ago and nobody knew and it was best, no, no, I know it wasn’t best, I know it was a wicked thing to do but I was young and I’ve been punishing myself, I have, I know it doesn’t look like it but I have, I have, the guilt’s been there all along. I am sorry. I am.’ She broke down into sobbing again. I’ll never forget it. She was weeping tears of blood.

  The thin bear seemed interested in the blood on her hand and was sniffing at her. She must have felt its breath because she half-turned and beat at the bear’s head with her arm, flapping, screaming and swearing at it. The bear, frightened, opened its mouth wide and made a high growling sound backing off a little, but Ussa didn’t seem to notice and kept howling until the big bear cuffed her again.

  Ussa rolled over into a tight ball, arms covering her head, and no amount of shoving from the bear could gain any response. Whether she was unconscious or just playing dead, I couldn’t tell.

  Og and I exchanged horrified glances.

  The big bear nudged at Ussa a few times more but, getting no reaction, seemed to lose interest. It started licking up the white petals, then turned and looked at me, as if registering my presence for the first time.

  The hairs rose on the back of my neck as its little eyes focused in. Swinging its head, it paced towards me. With one bloody paw it knocked me down into a sprawl on my mat. I shrank into a defensive ball, my hands on the back of my head, elbows trying to shield my face. I felt the weight on the bear on me, its paws on my back, stroking my coat.

  The Greatmother spoke and the pilot said, ‘So, you are guilty too. The bear has judged you. Now confess.’

  As if the bear understood the words, it bounced me, shoving at me, trying to shake words out of me. But I had pride inside me as well as fear and I uttered only denial. ‘I’m not guilty. What is this? Guilty of what? I’m not guilty of anything.’

  With a blast of fury I threw it off and it stepped aside and licked up some clover flowers as if it had done nothing.

  ‘
You have soiled yourself,’ the Greatmother said.

  I could smell that it was true and my anger was fuelled by shame. I shouted at her. I don’t know what I said but I remember the old woman just shook her head and said, ‘Anger will not help you. Consider your words.’

  The big bear was staring at me again. Some part of myself realised that I needed to calm down, that my anger was a danger to me.

  ‘Enough.’ The Greatmother got off her throne, took a few paces and drew the bolt on a big wooden door beyond the roof pillars at the end where the bears had been chained. At the sound, the big bear began pacing towards the doorway, soon followed by the cub, at first dragging the white coat, then abandoning it as the smell of fresh air overcame everything else. The scrawny bear stood, as if trying to make up its mind, staring at the opening, then made a bolt for it and was the first through, followed by the scampering cub and finally by the big bear who padded out slowly, wearily, it seemed, as if the humiliation it had witnessed, or brought about, was just the latest in a long series of tiring and unpleasant ordeals it had had to endure.

  After the bears had left, the Greatmother closed the door behind them and faced us, sizing each of us up in turn. I sensed that the trial, if that is what it was that we were undergoing, was not over yet.

  INTERROGATION

  I find the next part of the experience difficult to write about it. I could leave you wondering but that would be cruel, wouldn’t it? Perhaps the time has come to be honest. It’s my only hope of redemption.

  Once the bears had gone, Ussa took her revenge. The Greatmother, via Miki, began an inquisition. I think I was at a disadvantage. I was bewildered by what is considered acceptable and what is sinful by these various barbarian tribes.

  Ussa looked ghastly. Her eye was streaming blood and she kept her hand over it as she ranted, which she did incessantly for what felt an age, hurling accusations at me and at people I had never heard of, casting blame around like a farmer scattering seed in every furrow hoping some of it will grow.