Sacred Ground

by Alex Archer

  Otherwise, the company would destroy them.

  Annja took a stroll around the camp. It was utilitarian and nothing more. She saw the latrine and the firewood pile. Each shelter seemed to have its own cooking fire inside where meals would be prepared. Apart from that, she spotted several long axes for chopping wood and little else.

  The forest stretched before her and Annja decided a little exercise might be a good thing. She felt a pull toward a certain section and ducked under the frozen pine boughs.

  A bit of snow fell on her head as she walked. She crested a small hill and the trees broke apart into another clearing that sloped down and away from her for some distance.

  This must be the place, she thought. Already she could feel the tug of something almost otherworldly. The unbroken snowfield before her looked like one continuous blanket of white.

  “Beautiful,” she said aloud.

  And then she heard the terrible growl behind her.

  Annja turned slowly to see a massive polar bear rearing back to stand up to its full height. It was only ten feet away from her.

  And it didn’t look happy.

  10

  Annja stood motionless as the giant polar bear swayed slightly on its haunches. She could see the sharp teeth in its mouth and the claws of its front legs loomed large in her vision.

  How in the world had this bear sneaked up on her? She frowned. She should have known better than to wander around so carelessly.

  She stared at the polar bear, willing herself to look right into its eyes. She’d never seen a creature like this up close before. Usually, she saw most of her dangerous animals from behind the safety of iron bars at a zoo. Not having some type of fence between them made Annja’s stomach twist into knots.

  The polar bear’s breath stained the air with mist as it stared at Annja. Clearly, she must have been trespassing on its land. But she was curious. Didn’t polar bears usually hunt closer to the water for their diet of fish? Or was this an anomaly of some type?

  The bear closed its mouth. Annja wondered if she would need her sword. She could draw it in an instant, but the last thing she wanted to do was kill the bear. Even worse, if the Araktak considered polar bears as sacred animals, she could be committing a grave cultural faux pas. They’d chuck her out of the dig site and all of this would have been for nothing.

  And Annja hated wasting time and effort on something only to see it falter.

  The polar bear came down off its haunches. Annja relaxed further but kept absolutely still. The bear could easily kill her if she wasn’t careful. She had to play this right.

  She could hear the bear inhaling and exhaling all around her as it seemed to sniff her scent.

  This close, she could smell the bear. It wasn’t a good smell by any means and it reminded Annja of a wet dog that hadn’t had a bath in weeks. She wrinkled her nose and tried to breathe less.

  The polar bear looked up at her again and then sat back, regarding her for some time. Annja spoke soothingly and the bear cocked its head to one side then the other. Maybe, Annja thought, this is something new for it, as well.

  The bear pawed at the ground in front of Annja and she looked down. In the snow, the bear’s claw had drawn back the blanket of white to reveal the hard dirt underneath. But Annja saw something else.

  Blood.

  She frowned. The bear pawed at the ground with its claw again and Annja saw a fresh streak near the snow. The bear was injured.

  Annja took a deep breath and then knelt down until her head was level with the dirty white creature.

  “You’ve got something in your paw, don’t you?” she said soothingly.

  The bear cocked its head to one side and let out something that sounded vaguely like a whine. Carefully, Annja reached out with one hand and then the other until she cradled its paw in her hands. Very slowly, she turned it over and then saw the wound.

  A piece of metal poked out of the bear’s claw, embedded in the soft padded fleshy part. Annja grimaced. It looked like part of a steel arrowhead.

  “No wonder you’re upset.” She bent closer to examine the wound. She could see that there wasn’t any sign of infection yet, so it must have only happened recently. Where had the bear managed to get such a thing trapped in its claw?

  She didn’t think anyone around here would be such a callous hunter as to leave their weapons lying about. But then again, this was a new part of the world to her.

  The bear grunted, snapping Annja’s attention back to the present. Annja smirked. “Sorry.”

  The piece of metal looked small, but she could see just enough poking out of the surface of the skin that would give her something to pinch and yank out. She looked up at the bear. “This might hurt. You sure you want me to help you with this?”

  The bear whined again. Annja took a deep breath.

  She reached into the wound and felt the bear jerk a little as the pain hit. Annja gritted her teeth, pinched at the exposed metal and then, as smoothly as possible, pulled the metal free of the bear’s claw.

  She fell back in the snow as the bear let out a long howl that made Annja fear for her life again. The bear rolled onto its back and howled over and over again.

  Annja got to her feet and the bear growled but then it got up and walked over some of the untouched snow. Once its wounded paw touched the cold snow, the growling stopped.

  Annja nodded. “Feels better, does it?”

  The polar bear stalked around for a few more minutes doing what looked to Annja like an attempt to wash the wound the best way it knew how. It was using the snow and its body heat to get water into the cut skin.

  After a few minutes, Annja found a log and sat down on it. The piece of metal in her hand really did look like part of an arrowhead. It had the appearance of one of the fancy steel-tip hunting arrows that sporting goods shops sold all over the world for bow hunters.

  But who would shoot a polar bear in the paw? Or was that even it? Maybe one of the arrows had fallen or been broken. Perhaps the arrowhead had broken off and had been in the snow. And when the polar bear had come through, its weight had sent the metal into its claw.

  The bear wandered over to Annja and sat down next to her, its huge bulk rippling as it did so. Annja spoke quietly. “So, now we’re best friends. Is that it?”

  The bear grunted and nuzzled Annja’s arm. Annja frowned. “When was the last time you had a bath for yourself? Don’t take this the wrong way, but lord do you stink to the high heavens.”

  The bear grunted, heaving deep breaths out on to the frozen ground. Annja smiled and shook her head. Who would have thought she’d be seeing all this beauty while enjoying the company of a creature that could easily kill her?

  Life sure threw curveballs.

  The bear’s head suddenly turned back toward the direction Annja had come from originally.

  “Annja?”

  The bear growled. Annja patted its head. “Calm down. You don’t have to get upset.”

  Derek, Wishman and Godwin, along with several other men Annja didn’t know, broke through to the clearing and all of them stopped instantly. Their sudden appearance made the polar bear growl louder than before.

  Annja held up her hand to stop the group of men. “Don’t come any closer or he’ll get angry.”

  Derek’s eyebrows almost jumped off his head. “You’re all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Annja saw something like a smile play across Godwin’s face. Behind him one of the younger men raised a hunting rifle and was sighting down the barrel.

  Wishman saw the rifle and said several quick words that carried a clipped tonality to them. He was commanding the man to put his gun down. With a look of disbelief, the younger man lowered his rifle.

  Wishman came forward slightly. He looked at Annja and then at the bear. The bear regarded him but didn’t growl this time.

  “How did this happen?” Wishman asked.

  Annja shrugged. “I went for a walk when you all excluded me from th
e meeting. I found my way here and the bear surprised me. He was wounded. This was in his paw.” She held out her hand and showed the metal arrowhead fragment to Wishman.

  He frowned and then stepped back. This time he spoke to the bear and said several things that Annja didn’t understand. The bear, however, seemed to and with a single grunt, it took one last look at Annja and then lumbered off, leaving only its tracks in its wake.

  “Bye,” Annja said.

  She looked at Wishman. “Why’d you make him go?”

  Wishman shook his head. “He didn’t need to stay any longer.”

  “Says you.”

  Wishman ignored her and turned to face the group. “You have all seen what has happened here with your own eyes.”

  The men murmured their agreement. Wishman pointed back at Annja. “The great god Chunok has shown himself to the woman and she has been approved by his presence. She has shown her depth of spirit by caring for the wounded animal.”

  Derek took a calming breath. “I would have run away screaming.”

  Wishman nodded. “Many a man would have done just that. She did not. And so she has earned the respect of Chunok. And she has earned my respect, as well.”

  He turned back to the group and spread his arms. “This woman, this Friend of Bear, shall be welcomed in our camp. She will help us do what must be done to preserve our legacy and sacred traditions. Chunok has sent her to us and we will honor his choice by respecting her.”

  The men nodded, some of them less so than others, but Annja could see they were all impressed. Looking back on it, Annja was impressed, too. How had she managed to get herself into this situation?

  Derek and Godwin came forward. Derek helped Annja to her feet. “How did you do that?”

  “I don’t know. I just did it.”

  “Incredible. Simply incredible.”

  Godwin chuckled. “You certainly gave them something to talk about over the fire tonight.”

  “How did the meeting go?” she asked.

  Godwin shook his head. “There was a lot of outrage that a woman was coming into their camp. This is something the men consider to be sacred to them only. Women apparently aren’t accorded the same respect. Mr. Wainman argued your case, but in the end, it didn’t look like it was going to work.”

  “And you were coming here to tell me it was off?”

  Derek nodded. “Yeah. We were going to turn around and head for home only to find you out here doing the whole Dances with Wolves thing. Pretty damned impressive. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you might have staged the entire thing.”

  Annja shook her head. “Yeah, because I routinely try to get deadly animals to come and bother me. You should see my trick with great white sharks. That always leaves them wanting more.”

  “Well, the most important thing is they’ve accepted you.” Godwin shrugged. “Wishman says you’ve been chosen by Chunok, who is their most important god, so that’s pretty much law now.”

  “So, I’m good to go?”

  “In spades.”

  “Excellent. Does this mean I have one of those shelters all to myself, you know, being divinely chosen and all?”

  Godwin smiled. “Probably not. But I can put in a good word for you about letting you share the communal spittoon.”

  “Swell.”

  Derek looked around. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? All of this unspoiled nature. Gorgeous.”

  “Shame it’s going to be ruined by the drilling of the mine,” Annja said.

  Derek sighed. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve sold my soul to the devil. I used to be a lot more idealistic, I suppose. But then again, I can at least reconcile it by telling myself that you’ll help ensure the Araktak find a way to preserve their traditions.”

  “As long as I do it within four weeks.”

  “Exactly.”

  Annja glanced at Godwin. “So, what happens now?”

  “Nothing right away. There will be a welcome feast for you tonight. It’s in your honor. I believe you made quite an impact on them. Far better than the impact I made when I walked into their lodge.”

  “Oh?”

  “Some of them are quite upset that there’s a half-breed in their presence.”

  “You had nothing to do with your father’s decision to leave,” Annja said.

  Godwin shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I am a reminder of his decision. And rather than let them forget what happened, my mere presence serves to remind them of the clash between the old ways and the new. In a lot of ways it mirrors the situation with the company.”

  Derek clapped him on the back. “Relax, pal. As long as it works out in our favor, I think you’ll be fine, too.”

  Annja watched them go and then followed them back to the lodges.

  11

  The fire in the main lodge made the entire place almost too hot. The birch and pine logs crackled and popped amid the orange-and-yellow flames, sending a trail of smoke circling skyward out of the chimney hole.

  Annja huddled near the fire, warming herself. She hadn’t realized how cold she’d been during her run-in with the polar bear. It was almost as if she’d forgotten about the temperature while she was with the creature.

  Wishman sat nearby, watching her closely. She glanced up at him and smiled, but his eyes never blinked.

  “You realize that’s a little bit unsettling when you do that,” she said.

  He shrugged. “I am trying to understand you, Friend of Bear.”

  “You can call me Annja if it makes it easier.”

  He shook his head. “Chunok brought you to us and to the bear for a reason. It would be disrespectful for me to call you by another name.”

  “I guess I understand.”

  Godwin came and sat down nearby. He nudged Annja. “Is he bothering you?” he whispered.

  “Only when he stares at me, which seems to be all the time. What’s his deal? He said he was trying to understand me.”

  Godwin nodded. “It’s his role within the tribe. He’s kind of like the shaman or medicine man if you want to put it into Native American terms.”

  “And he does what, set the law down or something?”

  Godwin frowned. “We don’t really have laws per se. We have three ideas that we use as the basis for our system of government, such as it is.”

  “Like what?”

  Godwin scratched a few symbols in the dirt floor. “Maligait means things to follow or what must be followed.”

  “Which I assume means you already have a basic understanding of what that would refer to.”

  “Sure,” Godwin said. He kept writing in the dirt. “Then there’s piqujait, those things that must be done or things to do.”

  “And the third?”

  “Tirigusuusiit. Things that are not done.”

  “Interesting. And what happens if someone decides they don’t want to abide by these ideals?”

  “Then people like Wishman are called in to mediate the dispute and try to get the offending party to see the error of their ways.”

  Annja looked at him. “Otherwise?”

  Godwin smirked. “Well, it’s not like it was in the old times, now, is it? We’re not able to simply condemn someone to die because of their refusal to follow the ways. But there would probably be some sort of punishment. Hell, these days, maybe they’d even banish the offender. Just kick him out of the tribe.”

  “Does that happen often?”

  Godwin shrugged. “Only once as far as I know. When they kicked my father out.”

  “I thought you said he left.”

  Godwin shrugged. “That’s what he told me as a child. I guess he didn’t want his son to be embarrassed for his actions. When I grew older, I had a feeling that he wouldn’t have left as much as they would have ex-communicated him for marrying outside the tribe.”

  “Did Wishman intervene?”

  “I don’t know,” Godwin said. “Possibly. But marriage is a weird thing in Inuit culture. There’s a lot of polygamy and even o
pen relationships. Hell, even divorce isn’t unheard-of. Of course, this is all in relation to older times. Nowadays, most Inuit do as they see fit. Only the Araktak have really kept a firm hold on their people.”

  “So, if marriage is so fluid an arrangement, then why did your father pay such a steep price for what he did?”

  “He went outside the tribe. That’s taboo. Most marriages are arranged and he was supposed to marry the daughter of one of the tribe elders. But it didn’t work out that way.”

  Annja stared into the smoke of the fire, feeling herself grow drowsy. “Tell me about it.”

  “My father was supposed to go on his journey. When a male in the Araktak comes of age and has absorbed all the teachings, he is supposed to go out on his own and find himself. It’s sort of a spiritual journey. They go into the wilds and explore and commune with the spirits.”

  “I take it the Inuit are very much an animalistic-belief society?”

  “Absolutely. We believe that every living thing has a soul. I think someone once said that we, as a people, survive by eating the souls of others. It’s one reason why you’ll see so much respect for any animal or thing that we eat. Even when we hunt, there is great tradition and respect accorded to the prey.”

  “So your father went on his journey.”

  Godwin nodded. “He traveled for miles across the ice floes, stopping only to hunt for enough food for himself. But one day, his journey was interrupted by a noise he hadn’t heard before. And before long he’d tracked the source to a plane that had crashed in the delta.”

  “An airliner?”

  “No, nothing so big. Just a small Cessna or a Piper Cub, I don’t remember now. Anyway, there was only one survivor, a woman.”

  “Your mother,” Annja said.

  Godwin smiled. “My father couldn’t take a chance of moving her because she had a broken leg and to do so would have meant indescribable pain and suffering for her. So instead, he built a shelter for them both and then splinted her leg.”