He continued； and then each bear spoke again。 It was a formula； a ritual faithfully followed。 Lyra looked at the two of them； so utterly different： lofur so glossy and powerful； immense in his strength and health； splendidly armored； proud and kinglike； and Iorek smaller； though she had never thought he would look small； and poorly equipped； his armor rusty and dented。 But his armor was his soul。 He had made it and it fitted him。 They were one。 lofur was not content with his armor； he wanted another soul as well。 He was restless while Iorek was still。
And she was aware that all the other bears were making the parison too。 But Iorek and lofur were more than just two bears。 There were two kinds of beardom opposed here； two futures； two destinies。 lofur had begun to take them in one direction； and Iorek would take them in another； and in the same moment； one future would close forever as the other began to unfold。
As their ritual bat moved toward the second phase； the two bears began to prowl restlessly on the snow； edging forward； swinging their heads。 There was not a flicker of movement from the spectators： but all eyes followed them。
Finally the warriors were still and silent； watching each other face to face across the width of the bat ground。
Then with a roar and a blur of snow both bears moved at the same moment。 Like two great masses of rock balanced on adjoining peaks and shaken loose by an earthquake； which bound down the mountainsides gathering speed； leaping over crevasses and knocking trees into splinters； until they crash into each other so hard that both are smashed to powder and flying chips of stone： that was how the two bears came together。 The crash as they met resounded in the still air and echoed back from the palace wall。 But they weren't destroyed； as rock would have been。 They both fell aside； and the first to rise was Iorek。 He twisted up in a lithe spring and grappled with lofur； whose armor had been damaged by the collision and who couldn't easily raise his head。 Iorek made at once for the vulnerable gap at his neck。 He raked the white fur； and then hooked his claws beneath the edge of lofur's helmet and wrenched it forward。
Sensing the danger； lofur snarled and shook himself as Lyra had seen Iorek shake himself at the water's edge； sending sheets of water flying high into the air。 And Iorek fell away； dislodged； and with a screech of twisting metal lofur stood up tall； straightening the steel of his back plates by sheer strength。 Then like an avalanche he hurled himself down on Iorek； who was still trying to rise。
Lyra felt her own breath knocked out of her by the force of that crashing fall。 Certainly the very ground shook beneath her。 How could Iorek survive that？ He was struggling to twist himself and gain a purchase on the ground； but his feet were uppermost； and lofur had fixed his teeth somewhere near Iorek's throat。 Drops of hot blood were flying through the air： one landed on Lyra's furs； and she pressed her hand to it like a token of love。
Then Iorek's rear claws dug into the links of lofur's chain…mail sark and ripped downward。 The whole front came away； and lofur lurched sideways to look at the damage； leaving Iorek to scramble upright again。
For a moment the two bears stood apart； getting their breath back。 lofur was hampered now by that chain mail； because from a protection it had changed all at once into a hindrance： it was still fastened at the bottom； and trailed around his rear legs。 However； Iorek was worse off。 He was bleeding freely from a wound at his neck； and panting heavily。
But he leaped at lofur before the king could disentangle himself from the clinging chain mail； and knocked him head over heels； following up with a lunge at the bare part of lofur's neck； where the edge of the helmet was bent。 lofur threw him off； and then the two bears were at each other again； throwing up fountains of snow that sprayed in all directions and sometimes made it hard to see who had the advantage。
Lyra watched； hardly daring to breathe； and squeezing her hands together so tight it hurt。 She thought she saw lofur tearing at a wound in Iorek's belly； but that couldn't be right； because a moment later； after another convulsive explosion of snow； both bears were standing upright like boxers； and Iorek was slashing with mighty claws at lofur's face； with lofur hitting back just as savagely。
Lyra trembled at the weight of those blows。 As if a giant were swinging a sledgehammer； and that hammer were armed with five steel spikes 。 。 。
Iron clanged on iron； teeth crashed on teeth； breath roared harshly； feet thundered on the hard…packed ground。 The snow around was splashed with red and trodden down for yards into a crimson mud。
lofur's armor was in a pitiful state by this time； the plates torn and distorted； the gold inlay torn out or smeared thickly with blood； and his helmet gone altogether。 Iorek's was in much better condition； for all its ugliness： dented； but intact； standing up far better to the great sledgehammer blows of the bear…king； and turning aside those brutal six…inch claws。
But against that； lofur was bigger and stronger than Iorek； and Iorek was weary and hungry； and had lost more blood。 He was wounded in the belly； on both arms； and at the neck； whereas lofur was bleeding only from his lower jaw。 Lyra longed to help her dear friend； but what could she do？
And it was going badly for Iorek now。 He was limping； every time he put his left forepaw on the ground； they could see that it hardly bore his weight。 He never used it to strike with； and the blows from his right hand were feebler； too； almost little pats pared with the mighty crushing buffets he'd delivered only a few minutes before。
lofur had noticed。 He began to taunt Iorek； calling him broken…hand； whimpering cub； rust…eaten； soon…to…die； and other names； all the while swinging blows at him from right and left which Iorek could no longer parry。 Iorek had to move backward； a step at a time； and to crouch low under the rain of blows from the jeering bear…king。
Lyra was in tears。 Her dear； her brave one； her fearless defender； was going to die； and she would not do him the treachery of looking away； for if he looked at her he must see her shining eyes and their love and belief； not a face hidden in cowardice or a shoulder fearfully turned away。
So she looked； but her tears kept her from seeing what was really happening； and perhaps it would not have been visible to her anyway。 It certainly was not seen by lofur。
Because Iorek was moving backward only to find clean dry footing and a firm rock to leap up from； and the useless left arm was really fresh and strong。 You could not trick a bear； but； as Lyra had shown him； lofur did not want to be a bear； he wanted to be a man； and Iorek was tricking him。
At last he found what he wanted： a firm rock deep…anchored in the permafrost。 He backed against it； tensing his legs and choosing his moment。
It came when lofur reared high above； bellowing his triumph； and turning his head tauntingly toward Iorek's apparently weak left side。
That was when Iorek moved。 Like a wave that has been building its strength over a thousand miles of ocean； and which makes little stir in the deep water； but which when it reaches the shallows rears itself up high into the sky； terrifying the shore dwellers； before crashing down on the land with irresistible power…so Iorek Byrnison rose up against lofur； exploding upward from his firm footing on the dry rock and slashing with a ferocious left hand at the exposed jaw of lofur Raknison。
It was a horrifying blow。 It tore the lower part of his jaw clean off； so that it flew through the air scattering blood drops in the snow many yards away。
lofur's red tongue lolled down； dripping over his open throat。 The bear…king was suddenly voiceless； biteless； helpless； Iorek needed nothing more。 He lunged； and then his teeth were in lofur's throat； and he shook and shook this way； that way； lifting the huge body off the ground and battering it down as if lofur were no more than a seal at the water's edge。
Then he ripped upward； and lofur Raknison's life came away