The Adventures of Helgi the Viking

Audun was busy managing the hay harvest over the next two weeks because Arnor was away, but told Helgi that as soon as the work was done, they should meet to discuss strategy. The time passed slowly. When Helgi headed over to the Manor to look for him, he found Audun in one of the outhouses, rummaging through some crates of junk.

‘I’m sure I put it here last season,’ Audun muttered to himself.

‘What are you looking for?’ asked Helgi.

‘Ah-ha! Found it!’ cried Audun triumphantly.

He pulled out a long wooden stick, with a bent and slightly scooped head, and brushed away the cobwebs that streaked it. When he stood it on its tip, it came up to his nose.

‘And here’s my old one,’ he said, drawing out a slightly shorter bat, also curved at one end. ‘This one’ll be about the right size for you.’

He handed the stick to Helgi, who measured it against his nose and found it was indeed the right length. He weighed it in his hands and swung it experimentally. There was a wooden ball in the box as well.

‘Great! I’d like to try it out straight away,’ said Helgi.

They went outside and crossed the home meadow, then walked up to the sheep pastures where the grass had been nibbled shorter, making a smoother surface. Audun marked out a rectangle, with stones at the corners, to give Helgi a rough idea of the size of the pitch.

‘Imagine there’s a goal line at either end,’ he said, pointing with his stick. ‘The object of the game is to get the ball across the opponents’ goal line, using the stick or any part of your body. The other side has to stop you scoring. That’s all there is to it. There are six players on each side and each player has an attacking and a defending role. Attacking is when you try to win the ball or shoot it across the line, and defending is when you prevent the other side from getting near your line and scoring.’

‘So, I’ll be playing opposite Thorstein?’

‘Yes. Every player has an opponent that he has to mark—so you must watch where he is and what he’s doing and take him on when he gets possession of the ball. Almost anything goes when he’s got the ball—you can slam into him, pin him down, or use your stick to sweep the ball away or trip him up. Fighting with fists and hitting or jabbing him with your stick aren’t strictly allowed—you can get sent off the ice for that. You can kick or throw or carry the ball but only if you’ve lost your stick. A scoring shot has to be hit with a stick. It’s safer not to pick the ball up, because you’ll get heavily bundled by the other side if you do.’

Helgi took a swing at the ball and whacked it a long way over the line. Audun ran after it and hit it back to him. He moved to several different positions so Helgi could practise receiving the ball and sending it back in different directions.

‘That’s good!’ said Audun. ‘Of course in a real game, as soon as you get the ball, your opponent will bear down on you. You’ll have to make a split-second decision whether to pass the ball to another player who’s under less pressure or better placed than you, or whether to take out the opponent yourself. As soon as we’ve got our team together, we’ll have a proper practice, though to be honest, playing stickball is a bit like going to war—no amount of practice can prepare you for the real thing.’

A bit like going to war? What kind of game was this? A nightmare image flashed through Helgi’s head: the corpses of his fellow players strewn across the bloody ice, himself surrounded by enemies, the tallest one stepping forward, wielding his arm, the stickball bat flashing down on …

‘Can you think of anyone brave enough to join us?’ he asked Audun.

‘I asked Alf this morning.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He grunted and I took that to mean yes. He couldn’t very well say no, because he works for your uncle. So that makes three of us. We need another three players and at least one reserve.’

‘Hedin’s an obvious choice. He’s fought in dozens of battles.’

‘He’s away at the moment, but I’ll ask him when he gets back. He’s gone to visit friends at Lysuholl further up the coast. Have you ever been to the hot springs there? Hedin says it’s a great place to hang out. He likes to bathe in the steaming waters and chat up the girls when they bring their laundry down to the pool.’

They both sniggered, and then Helgi asked ‘What about Jorund or Karl?’

‘Jorund, yes. Karl’s a bit old, but maybe if we’re desperate.’

‘Are there any famous players?’

‘Ah yes!’ Audun counted them off on his fingers. ‘Hookblade-Bodi, Slasher-Brusi, Finn ‘the Walrus’ Karsson, Thorkel Clubber, to name just a few. All of them champions in the stickball Hall of Fame! Their exploits are the stuff of legend. It’s a pity none of them live locally …’

‘I can’t understand why we don’t play this game back home!’ exclaimed Helgi.

‘The lads we really want to have on the team are Sam and Kormak Ingolfsson. They live just along the coast at Hellnar where I grew up and they own a couple of fishing boats. They’re excellent players, and being brothers, they can anticipate each other’s moves. That’s where the Ericssons have the advantage over us, see. Why don’t we go over to Sam and Kormak’s now?’

Audun and Helgi strolled across the headland towards the bank of lava that divided Stapi from Hellnar. They crossed a small stream which ran straight over the side of the cliff in a little waterfall, and followed the coastal path, which twisted and undulated through rocky hills of grass-grown lava for over a mile.

‘Will we have a chance to practise on ice?’ Helgi asked Audun.

‘There’s a lake near Hellnar which freezes over in the autumn. At Laugarbrekka. We’ll go there once we’ve got a team together.’

‘Not the bathing pool?’ said Helgi. ‘I thought that was a hotpot.’

‘It is,’ said Audun. ‘Bardur’s Pool never freezes, even in the depths of winter. But they have a cold-water lake too. I’m sure the farmer won’t mind us practising our skating there if we ask nicely.’

‘What kind of equipment will we need, apart from the stick and the boots?’ asked Helgi, swinging the stick as he walked.

‘It’s a good idea to wear thick layers of padded clothing and some protection for your shins. Birch-bark works well. And gloves of course. Some people wear helmets. You need to wrap up in as much body-armour as it’s possible to wear without reducing your speed, vision, and mobility.’

It really does sound more like a battle than a game, Helgi thought. It was the studied nonchalance of Audun’s tone that worried him. It told him that he could expect bruises, lacerations, and possibly even death.

They concentrated on the path now, clambering up and down the broken, rocky steps and sometimes stepping over deep clefts in the ground. When the path dipped, the sea was hidden behind black crests of lava, but sometimes the spiky peaks and waves of rock parted to reveal a stretch of azure blue, and whenever they climbed a hill or came to a small stony cove or inlet, the lava fell away altogether and the whole coastline came into view. The nearer mountain, Stapafell, maintained his gloomy watch over the lava on the landward side, with the snowy head of Snaefell occasionally peeping over his shoulder. Strangely isolated rocks, almost human in form, rose up out of the lava at intervals. Every time Helgi had to pass one of these misshapen guardsmen, he felt his skin tingle horribly. They were petrified trolls. The lava felt haunted to him.

The sea vanished from sight as the path descended between two high banks of grass, but a few yards further on they emerged onto a black shingle beach. Helgi knew there was a cave hidden among the rocks on their left. They passed Audun’s family home, a dilapidated fishing hut, built of rocks and driftwood and thatched with long sea-grass that waved in the breeze. Sam and Kormak lived in a similar wind-battered hut on the other side of the harbour. Fish were hung out to dry on racks in the open air. The brothers were sitting outside mending their nets but put their work aside when they saw Audun approaching, and got up to greet him. Sam had a round, freckled face, ruddy cheeks, and touselled hair the colour of straw; he was always getting into fights. Kormak was darker, tall and lanky, with a good-humoured, easy manner. He regarded everything as a bit of a joke. They were close in age, both a little older than Audun. Helgi had never spoken to them before but they knew each other by sight so there was no need for introductions.

‘Good catch today?’ asked Audun.

‘Not bad—till the net snagged on something and got torn,’ grumbled Sam. He gave Helgi a suspicious look, which suggested he’d heard all about the attack on the Ericssons. Helgi hoped his notoriety wouldn’t put them off joining the team. He hung back, leaning casually on his stick, and let Audun do the talking.

Audun explained that he was forming a team for the autumn games. He was offering them a chance to share in the glory because they’d all played on the same side before, and everyone knew they were the best players in the district.

Kormak looked interested. ‘Who would we be playing against?’

Audun told them.

‘Helgi’s on the team, is he?’ asked Sam.

Audun nodded.

The brothers frowned and exchanged glances. ‘Not interested,’ said Sam, speaking for both of them.

‘But you’ve played against the Ericssons before!’ protested Audun.

‘That wasn’t a grudge match,’ said Sam.

‘Surely you don’t want the Ericssons thinking you’re afraid of them? We’ve thrashed them in the past! Think of it, Sam: a glorious victory for us and a crushing defeat for the Ericssons!’

‘We haven’t beaten them in two years, they play so dirty,’ Sam reminded him. ‘If it was a straightforward contest, then fine. But this one’s bound to turn nasty.’

‘Even nastier than usual,’ added Kormak.

‘We don’t want to get involved in some stupid quarrel.’

‘Other people don’t see it that way,’ Audun said. ‘Alf joined up without making a fuss.’

‘That’s different,’ said Sam. ‘Alf works for Helgi’s uncle, same as you, so he could hardly refuse.’

Audun sighed in frustration. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d imagined. He glanced at Helgi, appealing for help. Helgi stepped forward, uncertain what to do and searching desperately for a strategy. He gave Sam a long, steadfast look, while he frantically racked his brains. Sam shifted a little uncomfortably under his strange eyes, which were fixed on him so challengingly, and shone with a dark glassy depth of blue. Helgi was surprised how quiet everyone had grown, almost as if they were waiting for direction. He let the tension mount for as long as he dared, before speaking in a voice of quiet resignation.

‘You see, Audun? It’s just as I said: no one around here apart from you and me has the guts to stand up to the Ericssons. But that doesn’t matter. I can fight my own battles.’

‘What will you do?’ asked Audun, sounding worried.

Helgi paused for dramatic effect, and then made a slow and chilling pronouncement, maintaining his intense gaze on the brothers all the time.

‘We’ll have no choice but to settle our differences by the sword. If I am killed, my cousin Hedin will avenge me. If Hedin is killed, then you will avenge him, Audun, since you and Hedin are sworn friends. And if you are killed, Audun, then …’

‘But Helgi,’ Audun cried in despair, ‘if you do that the whole district will be drawn into the quarrel! Everyone will have to take sides. Who knows where the violence and killings would end? Think of the tragic loss of life!’

‘A warrior cares little for his life when his reputation is at stake,’ said Helgi in a dark and fatalistic tone.

Audun took each brother by the shoulder and spoke to them in an urgent undertone.

‘You see what he’s like? He may look small and weak but he’s absolutely implacable. He would sooner die than yield to his enemies. He’s already been outlawed once, you know—he had to leave Norway after quarrelling with the king. The stickball match is our last hope of containing the feud with the Ericssons. Otherwise, things could really get out of hand, and the consequences could be disastrous for everyone!’

The brothers looked worried. ‘Scuse us a minute,’ said Sam. They withdrew to talk the matter through in low urgent voices, with the occasional fearful glance in Helgi’s direction. After a few minutes, they returned with their verdict.

‘All right, you can count us in. But the match is as far as it goes. We’re not getting embroiled in any blood feud or vengeance.’

‘You won’t regret your decision,’ said Audun solemnly. They all shook hands and Helgi and Audun took their leave.

Once they had gone some way back up the path, and Sam and Kormak were out of sight and earshot, the two accomplices fell about hooting with laughter.

‘So I’m “small and weak”, am I?’ cried Helgi indignantly.

‘I don’t know why you’re complaining. Who said “size doesn’t matter” the other day?’ teased Audun.

‘You were laying it on a bit thick. They’re terrified of me now! They think I’m an absolute nutter!’

‘You shouldn’t find it too hard to live up to that reputation,’ said Audun drily.

‘Audun, you have dealt me a grievous insult by questioning my soundness of mind,’ said Helgi gravely, ‘and for that I must insist on satisfaction. Have at you!’ Helgi took a ferocious swipe at his friend with his stickball bat. Laughing, Audun parried the blow with his own stick and they battled with their mock-swords as they scrambled over the ruined walls of lava on the way home.

Helgi spent the evening polishing the stickball bat and hunting around for things that might serve well as body armour. Malachi was dozing by the fire and Gerda was showing Embla how to twist her hair and pin it in a knot at the back of her head.

Suddenly the door burst open. Helgi’s father and his uncle Arnor had returned from a trading journey thay had made to Reykjavik in the south. Halfdan was in uncharacteristically high spirits; he flipped his hat in the air with an expert aim so it came down on the peg and then he seized an astonished Gerda and danced her round the room. Her hair, insecurely pinned, tumbled down in a tangled mass of fuzzy grey ringlets. Finally he collapsed on a chair, out of breath.

‘A ship had come in from Norway,’ he said. ‘They bought all Arnor’s wool and we got some flour and timber for a good price.’

‘That wasn’t all though, was it?’ said Arnor, with a meaningful glance at his brother. ‘We heard some interesting news too.’

‘News from home? Good news?’ asked Helgi eagerly.

‘Yes!’ exclaimed Halfdan jubilantly.

‘What is it? Tell us!’ Gerda cried.

‘First, let’s crack open a cask! Gerda, fetch us some ale from the storeroom.’

Gerda hurried out and returned with a large pitcher. When everyone had a full measure, Halfdan raised his cup and solemnly announced, ‘To Earl Hakon and his warfleet. May he nobly avenge his father’s death!’ He threw back his head, downed the entire contents without stopping for breath, and slammed the empty cup down on the table. Apart from Arnor, who was looking quietly amused, none of the others had moved—they were all too stunned by Halfdan’s jollity. Then, they clinked their cups, echoed, ‘To the Earl,’ and drank.

‘It’s true,’ said Halfdan, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. ‘I heard rumours a while back that the people of Trondheim had taken Hakon as their leader and that he’s been gathering a great army from all eight shires. The latest news is that his ships have been making raids on King Harald’s and Grjotgard’s forces which are stationed further south in More.’

‘Has he won a great victory?’ asked Helgi.

‘Not a decisive one yet, but it’s only a matter of time until he does. The king’s army can’t occupy Trondheim with Hakon’s ships guarding the fjord, and they can’t advance any further north while he keeps sending out his fleet. Hakon will be looking for reliable men to join his campaign and to govern on his behalf in the north, men with a proven record of loyalty …’

‘And the most obvious choice would be … you?’ said Arnor, completing his thought.

Halfdan nodded and grinned at him.

‘But you can’t just expect Hakon to hand you everything on a plate,’ Arnor pointed out. ‘You’ll have to throw your lot in with him – go to him and offer him support.’

‘I know, I know! I shall go to him. If I could give him a ship—’

‘If you offer him that leaky old tub you arrived here in, he’ll laugh in your face,’ chuckled Arnor.

Halfdan waved his objection away. ‘I’ll get her repaired—I’ve got some money laid by. And when we get back, perhaps I’ll trade her for a warship. Hakon won’t make a move until the spring, so I’ve got a little time to make her seaworthy again.’ He smiled broadly round at everyone. ‘This news has given me hope at last. I do believe we stand a good chance of going home.’

Chapter 12