Wrestles polar bear

As he struggled to his feet, he caught sight of something pounding
towards him. It was massive, white like the snow, almost invisible. If not
for its dark eyes he would have missed it until it was upon him. He had seen
polar bears before, but even if he hadn’t, he would have known this beast
instantly. In the wastelands of the north, what else could it be?
Larten tore his shirt open, dropped the startled baby and leapt forward.
The bear was female, not as large as some he’d seen, but still taller than
Larten when erect.

***

Larten threw himself at the bear as she reared up on two legs and
bellowed at him. He was in worse shape than the sow, but he had a child to
protect and that gave him a slight, desperate edge. He didn’t care what
happened to him, but he wasn’t going to let this ferocious carnivore feast on
the hot, steaming innards of the baby.

As the bear wrapped her limbs round Larten, he dug for her eyes with
his thumbs. All vampires had hard, sharp nails, but Larten’s were longer and
more jagged than usual, since he hadn’t trimmed them while suffering with
a fever on the ship. The nail on his left thumb found the bear’s eye and
speared it at the first attempt.

The sow yowled and shook her head, snapping at Larten’s arm. She had
endured much pain in her time, but nothing like this. She had already
forgotten the promise of food. All she cared about now was killing the brute
who had hurt her.

Larten couldn’t afford a drawn-out fight. He knew that even with one
eye the bear would soon wear him down if he tried to spar with her. If he
didn’t finish her swiftly, he would die, and the baby too.
Ignoring the threat of the gnashing fangs, Larten dug the nails of his
right hand into the bear’s neck. The fur was thick and the skin was tough,
but Larten pierced both coverings and his nails sank into hot flesh and drew
blood.

As the sow howled and clawed at his back, Larten grabbed the fur on
the other side of the beast’s neck and pulled so that the skin beneath was
stretched tight. Opening his mouth wide, he latched on to her throat and bit
hard. He worked his teeth savagely from side to side, biting and chewing,
ignoring the pain as the bear’s claws cut deep into his back. Blood shot up
his nose and he almost choked. But he snorted it out and jammed his chin in
further, sliding his lower teeth left and right like a saw.

The bear spewed blood and her grip slackened. But Larten didn’t relax
— he wasn’t going to fall into the same trap that she had when she saw him
topple. He continued to chew until the sow collapsed, convulsed a few
times and fell still.

When it was over, Larten rolled aside, panting, warm for the first time
since he’d stepped ashore. His eyes were bright and he was grinning
horribly. He was going to die in this godsforsaken land, but at least he’d
squeezed in one last, decent fight. It was a pity the bear hadn’t been
younger and stronger — this would have been a good way to perish.
Perhaps he could find another to finish the job.

***

The Saga of Larten Crepsley: Palace of the Damned, Chapter 1