The Adventures of Helgi the Viking

Word soon reached the Ericssons that Audun had recruited a team for the stickball match, and Thorgrim hastily put together a team of his own, comprised of himself as captain, his two brothers, and three of Eric’s heaviest bodyguards.

A fortnight before the autumn games, Audun decided that the small lake at Laugarbrekka was frozen hard enough for the first of several stickball practices. The men from Stapi—Helgi, Audun, Alf, Karl, and Jorund—swathed themselves in gloves, hats, and padded jerkins before setting out. Karl had volunteered as a reserve because Audun was finding it difficult to persuade Hedin.

By the time they had wound their way through the lava to Hellnar, collected Sam and Kormak, and walked up to the lake, wearing their bulky clothes, they were sweaty and exhausted. But Helgi appreciated how necessary the extra layers were as soon as he took a tumble on the ice.

They moved about on the ice for a while, gliding from one foot to the other, until they had gained enough control over their limbs to be able to skate at speed. Then they practised passing and shooting at the goal line in groups of two or three.

‘I’m going to mark you closely and try to win the ball,’ Audun told Helgi. ‘You’ve got to find some way of shaking me off, and remember, almost anything goes.’

Helgi gritted his teeth. He waited until Audun got near and then abruptly moved off in the opposite direction, using his body to shield the ball. Audun chased after him. Helgi made a wide loop to open up some space but again found Audun blocking him. He changed direction again but this time Audun flung himself at Helgi’s legs and brought him heavily down. The ball rolled away across the ice. A wild scuffle ensued as Helgi struggled to kick himself free and Audun hung on to his ankles. Then Audun let go and scooted away after the ball. Helgi scrambled up too but Audun got there first and struck the ball hard, so that it sailed high through the air and landed well past the goal line.

They skated over to retrieve the ball.

‘The Ericssons are much meaner than I am,’ Audun said breathlessly. ‘They won’t show you any mercy. But you’re quick on your toes, so maybe you’ll be able to outrun them. Now it’s your turn to tackle me.’

Helgi shadowed Audun, trying to predict which way he would dodge, but Audun was guarding the ball so closely that he could not get near enough to intercept it. His only chance was to throw his opponent off-balance. He hesitated for a moment, daunted by the size of the older boy, and then barged into Audun with his right shoulder and scrabbled for the ball. Audun simply shoved him aside with his elbow and changed direction, moving away from the goal line and blocking the ball from view. Helgi chased after him and thrust his stick at Audun’s legs—the blade hooked around his ankle so Audun slipped and landed on one knee. Before he could straighten up, Helgi skimmed past, collected the ball, and sent it speeding over the goal line. He punched the air with a delighted ‘Yes!’

Audun looked pleased and said, ‘You’re catching on!’

‘You could get seriously injured playing this game,’ said Helgi, examining a large reddish bruise on his shin.

‘There were a couple of nasty incidents at the games last year,’ Audun admitted. ‘One player didn’t wake up for a week.’

‘Why don’t you invent more rules to protect the players?’

Audun groaned and rolled his eyes skyward.

‘Every year, without fail, someone complains about the number of casualties and says “There aren’t enough rules!” But I say, “to a willing person, no injury is done”. If people want to risk death and injury in the pursuit of fame, then let them do so.’

Sam and Kormak, who had drifted over to listen, nodded their heads.

‘Stickball has to be a rough game, so the players can prove themselves. That’s why it has such a big following and the best players are so famous,’ Kormak explained.

‘Yeah. If you made the game safe, it wouldn’t be stickball. Facing danger is the whole point. You can’t be glorious in victory unless you’ve given everything to win,’ Sam said passionately.

Audun split the team into two sides, with Alf in goal, so they could play a relay game. Helgi’s side had to get the ball out of their half in under five seconds and were allowed one shot at the goal, after which Alf switched ends and it was their turn to defend while the other side mounted a counterattack. Helgi had tarred and sanded the soles of his boots to provide some grip, but he found that playing on an icy surface had a huge effect on the speed of the game. It required a lot of effort and concentration to stay upright, and mark the lightning movements of the rest of the players and not lose sight of the ball. Anticipating moves—reacting before dangers and opportunities arose rather than after the event—required reflexes of dazzling speed. Anyone who didn’t pass quickly enough was bundled by the opposition. Alf clobbered the attacking players mercilessly whenever they moved into the goal area. He received a heavy battering in return and grumbled to Audun afterwards that he’d need proper armour if he was going to take that many hard knocks and collisions.

Audun was delighted by the end of the first session. No one had been seriously hurt and the competition had sharpened everyone’s performance. To his own surprise, he found that he excelled in the position of captain and that everyone seemed to like and respect him. He enjoyed thinking up ways to blend the men into a harmonious unit and raise their standard of play.

Helgi admired Audun’s approach. He knew just how to motivate people, by jokes, cheerful banter, and encouraging words. He never said anything to undercut Helgi’s confidence, even when he made mistakes. Sam and Kormak, who helped Audun to coach the less experienced players, were perhaps less kind. They tended to ridicule him for being physically small, but they had the utmost respect for Jorund, who was just as inexperienced at stickball, but older than they were and as tough as dried leather.

After a fortnight of intensive training, the players were hardened physically, knowledgeable in tactics, and had got to know one another well. They had become good friends. Helgi knew his team-mates were the best and could not be beaten. Audun stood at the head of the group. He had the authority to lead, whereas Helgi, the smallest and humblest player on the team, did not. Audun bore the responsibility for what had to be done and would reap the glory when they won. Helgi did not mind: he knew the lads would never have taken him seriously as a leader. He was painfully conscious of being regarded as the weak point in the line-up. He desperately hoped that he would not do anything to let the others down on the day, and practised very hard, driven more now by fear of losing the esteem of his friends than by fear of the Ericssons.

The day they were due to travel to the games, which was also the day before the feast of Winter Eves, Helgi got up early, packed a small bag, and checked through his equipment. He was about to fetch Kol and walk over to the Manor to meet up with the rest of the team, when Embla came into the room carrying two bulging haversacks.

‘What’s in there—food for the journey?’ Helgi asked hopefully.

‘I’m coming with you. I always wanted to see the games in the West Fjords, but my grandfather would never take me.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ Helgi said, with a frown. ‘We’ll be roughing it in a field for several days, and there’ll be dangerous fellows hanging about—pickpockets and ruffians.’

Embla regarded him icily. ‘Nonsense. Solveig’s going. There’ll be lots of families there.’

‘But there’ll be fighting—not just wrestling matches, but real bloodshed. Audun says stickball is like going to war.’

‘All the more reason for me to come,’ she said, opening one of the bags which was stuffed with medicines and bandages. ‘Every team needs a physician.’

Helgi scowled and said nothing. Embla’s presence would be an unwelcome distraction, but there was no stopping her once she’d made up her mind.

‘Is your father coming?’

‘No,’ Helgi replied, ‘he’s very busy at the moment, working out what needs to be done to repair the ship.’

‘I can’t believe you haven’t told him about your feud with the Ericssons.’

‘I don’t want to worry him. He’s got enough on his mind as it is.’

‘Just as well I’ll be there to cheer you on then. You can’t go off without any supporters.’ She threw on a long hooded travelling cloak and said briskly, ‘Well, I’m ready.’

They went to the stables and Helgi saddled up Kol, while Embla picked out her own horse, a silver dapple mare with white ankles and a white mane of double thickness, which she had ridden when she journeyed from her home in the north. Embla had named her horse Sokkadis, meaning ‘goddess in socks’, but usually called her Sokka for short. Helgi heaved the saddle onto Sokkadis’s back and Embla fastened the straps tight. Jorund joined them and they walked down to the main farm, leading their mounts. There had been a hard frost overnight and their breath came in clouds. Alf and Audun were outside in the yard, sorting through the saddlebags and checking off the camping equipment.

Hedin appeared in the doorway as they arrived. ‘Audun’s talked me into it,’ he said, picking his way across the frozen, ruttted mud with distaste. ‘Stickball isn’t really my thing. It’s a bit—well, rustic. If it were a straightforward contest of arms, it would be a different matter.’

‘You’ll be an asset to the team,’ Audun declared. ‘You’ve won such renown on your travels that simply having you with us will intimidate the Ericssons.’

‘He doesn’t look much of a sportsman,’ Jorund muttered to Helgi, ‘but at least we won’t be shorthanded if one of us gets stretchered off.’

‘Come to see us off, Embla?’ Audun asked cheerfully.

‘I’m coming too, as team supporter and physician. I’m not missing all the fun.’

Audun shot a questioning frown at Helgi, who shrugged as if to say ‘don’t blame me’.

‘Nothing you can say will put me off,’ said Embla. She set her jaw in steely determination.

‘I see,’ said Audun. ‘What do the rest of the team think?’

‘I’m not objecting,’ said Hedin, grinning at her. Embla scowled at him.

‘You’ll have to be responsible for your own safety during the match,’ Audun warned her.

‘As far as the game is concerned, you should look to your own safety,’ replied Embla.

As soon as Sam and Kormak arrived, they set off, following the path over the plateau which linked Stapi to Budir twelve miles further up the coast. The white snow-cap of Snaefell gleamed in the pale morning light and the bay sparkled brightly. They rode close to the cliff-edge, the horses stepping carefully over the slippery patches where many of the little streams, which ran down from the mountains, crossed their path, and tumbled over the edge into the sea below, had already frozen into ice. Then they came down off the cliffs and crossed Kamb Moor, a marshy plain which lay almost at sea level. A belt of sunlit water and a low bank of lava divided them from the sea. They passed a farmstead which lay between them and the mountains. For much of the journey, Helgi was absorbed in watching the mountainous ridges unfolding on his left. Snaefell marked the culmination of a whole chain of peaks that made up the backbone of the peninsula, dividing it in two.

Audun led the way with Helgi by his side and Embla rode alongside Hedin, who was regaling her with stories about his travels. Helgi listened with interest at first. Every story featured some cunning strategem or deed of heroism on the part of Hedin. In a sea battle off Orkney, he and Gold-Harald had boarded a pirates’ ship and worked their way from bow to stern, in fierce hand-to-hand fighting. Between them they managed to dispatch a dozen ruffians before Gold-Harald was wounded in the side, and it was left to Hedin to clear the decks single-handed. Embla could witness the notches on his sword blade as proof. On another occasion a few of them had gone ashore to raid a hidden shrine where piles of silver had been left as gifts for the gods, but passing through the forest they were ambushed by a hoard of natives painted in blue dye and wielding battle-axes. Hedin had managed to hold them off just long enough to allow reinforcements to arrive from the ship. And so on. The more Helgi heard, the less he was inclined to believe and he grew irritated with Embla for being such an indulgent audience.

‘What do you think of Hedin’s stories?’ he whispered to Audun.

‘Good way of chatting up the ladies. I’ve lost count of the number of girlfriends he’s had. Makes you sick.’

‘What I mean is, are they true?’

‘If they are, it’s an impeccable record. The question is, can you trust the word of a man who lives under an assumed name?’

‘Hedin isn’t his real name?’

Audun shook his head and grinned wickedly. ‘His real name is … oops!’ He clapped his hand over his mouth to stop it slipping out. ‘He made me swear never to reveal it.’

‘Why?’

‘He was given a really embarrassing name that runs on Astrid’s side of the family—they’re Danish, you see. So he adopted an alias. There was a story going round about an intrepid raider called Hedin—you might have heard it. Anyway, your cousin decided to model himself on the hero in the tale. He used to be quite shy but when he changed his name, he became a different person altogether!’ Audun chuckled to himself. ‘Perhaps I should do that.’

‘Don’t even think about it!’ said Helgi. ‘This place is hardly big enough for one Hedin, let alone two.’

It was only a throwaway remark, but its effect on Audun was extraordinary. It struck him with the force of a blinding revelation. Suddenly he knew the solution to all his problems and he knew that if he took this momentous step, his dreary existence would be utterly transformed.

‘Helgi, when your father goes back to Norway, I’m going with him,’ he announced, hardly able to believe he had made this lightning decision.

Helgi’s face grew radiant with amazement and delight.

‘I’d no idea you were planning to come with us!’ he exclaimed.

‘Well, the idea only just occurred to me. I’d rather you didn’t mention it to anyone yet,’ Audun said hastily.

‘No—of course not.’

‘I think it would do me good to get away. Things haven’t been easy lately. I could do with a distraction … some excitement … a piece of the action.’ Audun fixed his eyes dreamily on the distant summit of the mountain which lay to their left.

‘There’ll be bucketloads of excitement with my father leading the expedition. You should hear some of Jorund’s stories! Not that I want to put you off,’ said Helgi.

‘This place is getting me down,’ grumbled Audun. ‘No matter how hard I work, I never seem to get anywhere. Solveig’s made it clear she wants nothing more to do with me, so what have I got to lose? If I go with you and your father, I’ll have a good excuse to leave. Arnor won’t be able to object, will he?’

‘Well, it’ll be great to have you along,’ Helgi said merrily.

After a mile or two of easy riding, they came into lava again. It took a long time to cross. The surface was a treacherous maze of slippery, razor-sharp ridges and craters, riven with cracks where heather and low shrubs sprouted and sea-grass waved in the wind, and in the end they were forced to dismount and lead the horses. The black-grey rock was riddled with tiny holes, which Helgi thought had been bored by worms. He explained his theory to Audun, that Icelandic worms were a special breed that had developed extra-strong muscles for tunnelling through all the lava that lay about, but Audun told him the holes were burst bubbles in the once-boiling mud, and that if Helgi wanted proof, he had only to go down south to see mud bubbling up through holes in the ground. Amid the lava rose a steep conical hill of black stones, which they rounded on the landward side. The trail led north of this volcano and inland towards a mountain not quite as high as Stapafell, called Axlarhyrna. Audun told Helgi that the games were held on the plain that lay beyond the lava at the foot of this mountain. The campsite was known as Leikskalar Fields, and the games were hosted by the owners of the farm at Oxl.

Helgi thought he could make out a path running around the shoulder of the mountain.

‘That path must lead to a mountain pass,’ he said. ‘Is it possible to cross the mountains at this point and come out on the north coast?’

‘Possible but not advisable,’ called Sam, who was just behind them.

‘Oh, not that old story!’ Audun said scornfully.

‘That pass takes you right past Skeggi’s Mound,’ Kormak told Helgi.

‘It’s better to take a different route, especially if it’s late in the day,’ added Sam.

‘Skeggi …’ murmured Embla, repressing a shiver. ‘Not the Skeggi? There was a fearsome berserk called Skeggi who terrorized the west of Iceland. But that was years ago: I thought he was dead.’

‘That’s the one,’ Sam said. ‘But he isn’t dead.’

‘He isn’t exactly alive either,’ added Kormak.

‘You mean he’s a ghost?’ said Jorund. ‘A mound-dweller?’

Sam nodded. ‘Skeggi was a robber who had to leave Norway when he was outlawed for the crimes he’d committed. He settled here and built a huge mound up on the mountain which he used as a storehouse for all the loot he’d stolen. He caused no end of trouble in the district, stealing sheep and attacking anyone who was out after dark. The people at Oxl had to move away while he was alive. Even now, none of the locals dare to cross the mountain pass after dark. They say that when Skeggi grew old, he was visited by his fylgja, his guardian spirit, who told him it was time for him to die. After that, he shut himself in his mound so he could keep guard over his treasure. By all accounts he’s still in there, watching over his hoard. Sometimes he leaves the mound at night and ambushes unwary travellers.’

‘Has anyone succeeded in breaking into the mound?’ asked Hedin.

‘Plenty have tried, but Skeggi doesn’t welcome visitors. Every now and then, some poor fool, tempted by the story of the treasure, will try to raid the mound. Occasionally, human remains turn up. The bodies are horribly mangled. But most people who go calling on Skeggi are never seen again …’

‘You’re not thinking of paying Skeggi a little visit, are you Hedin?’ said Audun, with a teasing, faintly malicious smile.

Hedin’s eyes flashed dangerously. He looked intensely serious.

‘Are you daring me?’

‘Don’t be daft! We’ve come here to take on the Ericssons, not to compete with the local ghoul in some bizarre wrestling-match.’

Everyone laughed and moved on, but Hedin lingered behind for a while, looking curiously at the mountain, before catching the others up.

It was midday by the time they emerged from the lava onto Leikskalar Fields. The encampment, which overlooked the sea, seemed to Helgi to cover a huge area, judging by the many woodfires he could see smoking and the large number of people milling around the booths, eating, shouting, and laughing. The field was covered with dry stone enclosures over which people had flung canvas and animal-hide roofs to make temporary homes. The smells of woodsmoke, roasting meat, and horse dung mingled in the air.

‘I never imagined it would be such a big event!’ Helgi exclaimed in astonishment.

‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ said Audun. ‘There’ll be parties tonight and the games start tomorrow and the festival lasts three or four days. Looks as if people are still arriving … The competitors come from all over the west of Iceland and they bring their friends and families so there’s a large number of spectators as well.’

‘Once we’ve found a place to camp, I’m going to explore,’ said Helgi excitedly.

They managed to find two unoccupied booths on the edge of the encampment. Parts of the walls had tumbled down and needed to be rebuilt before the roof poles could be fixed in place and oilcloths draped over the top. Embla chose to share with Audun, Helgi, and Jorund, and hung a canvas partition inside the shelter to give herself some privacy. They spread out the groundsheets and stowed their sleeping sacks and belongings inside. After they had unpacked, Audun took Embla aside and spoke to her in whispered conversation for a few minutes. Embla kept smiling to herself after that, but didn’t say what they had talked about.

They ate some of the cold provisions they had brought with them, rather hurriedly since everyone was keen to look around, and arranged to meet up at the lake later on. Helgi and Jorund went off together, and Embla ran after them, clutching a pair of ice-skates in her hand.

‘Audun wants me to carry a secret message to Solveig,’ she told them, breathless with excitement. ‘I wonder where Eric’s family have pitched their shelter? I hope Solveig’s brought her skates.’

‘I’m not going anywhere near them,’ Helgi said. ‘It’ll only cause trouble.’

‘It’s all right, I’ll go on my own if you’ll wait for me. Audun wants to see her tonight! He’s going back with you to Norway and he wants to say goodbye to her! I can’t believe it!’

‘If he’s decided to tell everyone, he must be serious about it,’ said Helgi.

They headed for the fair in the centre of the field, which was thronged with people strolling around and looking at the attractions. There were stalls selling hot food and drinks, fire-eaters, jugglers, and people singing and playing harps and flutes. It was all very jolly. Embla spotted Solveig at one of the stands, picking through a rack of winter clothes that were displayed for sale. She ran over and caught her friend by the arm. Solveig looked pleased to see her and they talked together for a while.

Helgi and Jorund waited for her by some horse pens which held a number of magnificent stallions with glossy steaming coats. Two men were leaning on the gate, keeping guard over the beasts.

‘Are these for sale?’ Jorund asked.

‘You’ll have to ask the owners,’ replied one of the men. ‘These horses have been selected and trained for combat. You can place a bet on the one you fancy, if you like. Come back and watch tomorrow morning.’

‘A horse-fight! Now that would be worth seeing,’ said Helgi.

They asked the men which horse had the best odds, and chatted for several minutes before Embla returned.

‘Solveig said she’d be at the lake but it won’t be easy to talk to Audun because Thorgrim will be around,’ she told them.

‘So are you coming back to watch the horse-fight tomorrow, Helgi?’ asked Jorund.

‘Definitely. After the match.’

‘I think it’s cruel and horrible forcing horses to fight just for entertainment!’ said Embla with a look of disapproval on her face.

‘But these horses are specially bred for fighting—it’s in their blood,’ Helgi argued.

‘I don’t care; it’s a barbaric sport—the horses get terribly injured and often die. They’re such beautiful horses too! And the owners get so worked up that they quarrel and then fights break out.’

‘But that kind of violence can happen in any kind of competitive sport,’ said Helgi. ‘I bet people use horse-fights to settle other grudges, like they do with stickball.’

‘That makes it even worse!’ Embla cried. ‘Harming an innocent animal just to even some petty score.’ She was trembling with outrage.

‘Well, I think it makes more sense to fight an opponent by proxy—through the horses—than fight him directly,’ said Helgi. ‘It would be useful to have a battle-animal that you could send out against your enemies,’ he added thoughtfully.

‘I couldn’t bear to see my pony suffer. How would you feel if you saw Kol maltreated in that way?’

‘Kol would make an excellent fighting horse. It was his idea to attack the Ericssons. He knew I wanted revenge and he carried it out on my behalf. I have to be careful what I think or say now if there’s a chance he might be listening. I never think of Kol as dumb or “innocent”; I respect him far too much. He’s my friend and ally.’

Embla laughed and said, ‘Helgi, sometimes you say the strangest things! I mean, I know Kol is intelligent and brave, but imagining him as your partner in crime is a step too far.’

The three of them headed off in the direction of the lake, Helgi and Embla still arguing as they walked past the arenas where the wrestling and weight-lifting contests would be held when the games opened the next day.

‘Oh give it a rest, you two,’ groaned Jorund.

‘What do you think of Hedin?’ Helgi asked him, changing the subject. ‘He’s offered to help my father.’

Jorund shrugged. ‘He could be useful. Knows all the right people.’

‘You were enjoying his stories, weren’t you, Embla?’

Embla laughed and looked away. ‘He’s quite entertaining.’

‘He’s always name-dropping,’ grumbled Helgi. ‘Have you noticed, Jorund? He’ll say, “as I said to Gold-Harald, after we met Edgar …” and then he’ll pause, and most of us won’t have a clue who he’s talking about, but the people who matter will think, “Ah, he’s on first-name terms with the King of England!” Ugh. It’s so annoying! I mean, we don’t go round bragging about when we fought Grjotgard’s men, do we, Jorund?’

‘Some men let their deeds speak for themselves,’ said Jorund.

‘Jorund is modest, Hedin is eager for fame, and Helgi’s notorious without even trying,’ said Embla in a sing-song voice.

‘Ha ha, very funny,’ said Helgi. ‘But seriously, Embla, do you think Hedin’s really done all those things he claims to have done?’

‘Of course!’ Embla replied. ‘He might have exaggerated his part in the stories, but it wouldn’t be in his interests to lie. Besides, he brought back all that treasure. He must have earned it somehow.’

‘My father thinks he can help us. Do you think he can be trusted?’ Helgi asked her.

‘Helgi! This is your cousin we’re talking about—of course he can be trusted! He’s joined the team, hasn’t he?’

‘Y–es,’ Helgi said slowly, ‘but he took a lot of persuading. If I had to entrust my life to Jorund here, or to Hedin, I know whom I’d choose.’

Embla nodded and Helgi felt relieved. He was glad she had more sense than those stupid girls who followed Hedin around everywhere, whispering and giggling.

The frozen lake had been marked out for the ballgames. A black line divided the rink in half and there were lines at either end where the goal posts stood. The ice was crowded; it provided a meeting place when it wasn’t being used for the games, and there was a party atmosphere. Torches had been lit around the banks, to provide warmth and light because the sun was already low in the sky. The skaters cast elongated shadows as they moved across the ice—some in pairs holding gloved hands, some as individuals; some staggering along and others gliding with effortless grace; toddlers with pink cheeks, bundled up in woollen coats and jumpers, shuffled along next to their parents; older children larked around in groups—pushing, sliding, and shrieking happily when they fell over.

Embla laced her little bone skates on over her shoes. ‘They’re a bit tricky. Once I’ve got the hang of them, we’ll look for Audun.’ She stood up unsteadily. Helgi, who was wearing his stickball boots, lent her his arm; she wobbled along beside him, gradually gaining confidence. The ice at the edge of the lake was uneven and creaked under their weight, making them giggle nervously. Its shiny dark-grey face was spotted with pale air-bubbles and rumpled and occasionally ruptured by the stalks of half-submerged water plants; but the centre of the lake, where the water was deep, had a smooth complexion and showed very few hazards.

It wasn’t long before Audun came skating over.

‘Will she see me?’ he asked Embla.

‘Yes! I think she’s sorry she turned you away.’

Audun’s anxious face broke into a smile of relief.

‘Look over there,’ he said, indicating the far side of the lake. Helgi recognized the distinctive profile of Thorgrim Ericsson in his broad-brimmed hat and long coat. His brothers were slouching next to him; Solveig was with them and also a third person.

‘Hedin!’ exclaimed Helgi in surprise.

His cousin seemed to be the centre of attention; Solveig and the others were laughing at some anecdote he was telling.

‘What’s he doing, fraternizing with the enemy?’ Helgi wondered aloud.

‘What do you think he’s doing?’ snarled Audun, his upper lip curling in disgust. ‘He’s trying to chat her up, the creep.’

‘I’ll go and rescue her,’ said Embla. ‘You two keep out of sight.’ She skated off across the lake.

‘This is ludicrous!’ said Audun with a bitter laugh. ‘What hope have I got, if I can’t even say goodbye to her in public?’ They watched Embla and Solveig greet each other cheerfully and talk for a while. They compared iceskates and then Embla tugged at her friend’s arm. Solveig excused herself from the company and Hedin bowed graciously in return. The two girls skated off arm in arm, following the circumference of the lake. Audun and Helgi shadowed them until they were safely out of range of the Ericssons. Then the girls stopped and circled around.

Audun held back, as if his confidence had suddenly vanished and his legs were about to give way. Helgi had never seen his friend in such a state of anguish.

‘She wants to see you, Audun—otherwise she wouldn’t have come,’ he said. He gave Audun an encouraging shove. ‘Go on! Tell her about your plans to go abroad. Tell her you’ve been driven to desperate lengths by your sorrow.’

‘Desperate lengths,’ Audun echoed. ‘Right. Wish me luck.’ He took a deep breath and skated over. Embla whispered something to Solveig (who nodded) and retired to circle around and keep a lookout. Audun stopped before her about two steps away and Solveig went to meet him. As she listened to what he had to say, Solveig’s face became more and more serious and her eyes grew round and shiny with tears. Suddenly she flung her arms around Audun’s neck and burst into sobs. Audun almost toppled over in shock but steadied himself by grabbing hold of her waist.

Helgi smiled to himself and turned away.

He was curious to know whether Hedin was still consorting with ‘the enemy’, so he doubled back to spy on the Ericssons. He weaved in and out of the crowd, choosing the most densely populated parts of the ice as cover. He was so busy looking for Hedin that he almost crashed into Alf, who growled, ‘Watch it!’ Then he bumped into Sam and Kormak who seized an arm each and spun him round on the spot. They all fell over, laughing. Helgi forgot about the Ericssons and they spent some time horsing around on the ice, seeing how far they could skid, sometimes standing up, sometimes on their backsides, and whether being shoved in the back gave you an advantage.

Helgi had just broken Sam’s record for distance travelled gliding on one leg, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun round in fright—but it was only Hedin.

‘Helgi, have you seen Solveig?’

‘No, I thought she was with you … and Thorgrim.’

‘She went off with Embla,’ said Hedin smoothly. His pale blue eyes were scanning the ice. Helgi wondered just how friendly his cousin was with the Ericssons.

‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Helgi—I’ve had a word with Thorgrim already. I’m hoping you two can establish a truce after the game … Ah! There she is.’

He pointed out Solveig who was skating back towards her cousins. Thick strands of hair were twisted around her head in an elaborate crown, while the rest hung freely down her back. Hedin sighed languorously, cupping his hands as if imagining the rippling silver spilling through his fingers. ‘Is she a creature of this world, or a goddess?’ he murmured rapturously.

Sam and Kormak dissolved into a fit of sniggering. Hedin loftily ignored them.

‘She must be a goddess! The goddess of ice-blades! Such beauty should be celebrated in a verse.’ Hedin murmured some words to himself, his eyes set dreamily on Solveig.

‘I saw the moon gleaming, the stars streaming,
in her windblown hair;
a wild swan take flight, a flash of bone-white
on the brightening air.
A prow carved the wave-crest, and foam laced the curved breast,
when I saw her pass, over blue-grey glass,
dancing merrily—she stole a glance at me.’

‘I wish I’d thought of that,’ said Kormak, trying hard to keep a straight face.

Sam snorted loudly and stuffed his hand in his mouth.

Hedin cast a contemptuous look at him.

‘Did you just make that up on the spot?’ asked Helgi.

‘Of course. Any poet worthy of the name should be able to extemporize.’

‘Extempo-what?’

‘Speak in verse. Beautiful women and deeds of valour on the battlefield never cease to inspire me.’

Sam and Kormak cracked up, almost sobbing with laughter. Helgi found Hedin’s poem less amusing.

‘Could you make up some verses for other people we know, please, Hedin?’ begged Kormak, wiping tears from his eyes. ‘What about one in praise of Sam? He’s a valiant fighter. There’s nothing he likes better than a good brawl.’

‘Why pick on me?’ Sam protested, with a horrified face. Everyone laughed.

‘Do one for Audun then! He’s just coming over.’

Audun skated over with Embla on his arm and a blissfully happy expression on his face. ‘What’s so funny?’ he asked, beaming round at everyone.

‘Nothing,’ said Helgi, pulling himself together. ‘Hedin’s going to compose a verse to commemorate our deeds of valour tomorrow.’

‘He’s already made a love verse for Solveig,’ Kormak informed him.

Helgi winced and saw Embla do the same.

Audun’s eyes flicked towards Hedin, but he kept a level expression.

‘I daresay Solveig’s heard a lot of flattery and highflown nonsense over the years. She must be immune to it by now,’ he said coldly.

‘I heard that you spent most of the summer hanging around outside their gate, like a lovesick nanny-goat, until Thorgrim scared you off,’ Hedin retorted with a sneer.

Audun’s face flushed an angry red. ‘I’ll pay Thorgrim back for saying that, and you too, for repeating his words,’ he growled. He stepped forward and gave Hedin a violent shove which sent him sprawling on the ice. Hedin was back on his feet at once, and they began to circle each other slowly and watchfully, each waiting to see who would make the first move. A ring of spectators gathered round immediately to watch the fight.

Hedin pounced and made a grab for Audun, but Audun skidded sideways so he missed his target and almost lost his balance on the slippery ice. Audun caught him by the shoulder spun him round, raising his right fist to throw a punch, but quick as a flash Hedin gripped his arm, turned to face the other way and pulled him over his shoulder, throwing him to the ground. As he landed, Audun grabbed hold of Hedin’s leg and pulled it out from under him so he fell heavily on his back. Audun crawled over and tried to clamber on top of Hedin, but before he could pin him down, Hedin fended him off with a kick, rolled sideways and scrambled up onto his knees. He launched himself at Audun and the two of them grappled clumsily until Hedin fell sideways and Audun twisted his left arm behind his back, forcing him down. The crowd held their breath for several moments, waiting for Audun to press his advantage and end the fight. But suddenly Audun released Hedin and backed away. Hedin got to his feet and everyone gasped to see a knife gleaming coldly in his right fist. He held the blade pointed at Audun, and crouched, with bent knees and feet spread apart, shuffling a little from side to side as he slowly closed in. In his eyes was a look of cold contempt, as if he could hardly believe Audun had the nerve to rival him.

‘One of us has to back down,’ he said in a tone of quiet menace, ‘and we both know who.’

Audun smiled mockingly and said, ‘Play fair, Hedin. Put the nasty knife away.’

Hedin dived towards him. Audun’s hand flew to the knife at his own belt, but a second later Alf had grabbed Hedin from behind and immobilized him in a full armlock, and Helgi and Sam were hauling Audun away. Audun shook himself free, pushed through the crowd, and stalked off. Embla threw a murderous glance at them all and went after him.

Hedin extricated himself from Alf’s grip, pocketed the knife, and brushed down his clothes. Then, turning his pale eyes on Helgi, he remarked, with a strange smile, ‘Solveig’s beauty will be the cause of many men’s deaths.’

Helgi felt such a strong dislike of his cousin just then that he couldn’t stand his company any longer.

‘I’d better go after Embla,’ he mumbled, making his escape.

He found her standing lost and distressed in the middle of a vortex of whirling, shouting, and laughing skaters.

‘I can’t find Audun anywhere,’ she moaned.

‘Don’t worry, he’ll calm down. Look out!’ He pulled Embla out of the way as a couple of skaters sped past, narrowly missing them. ‘Can we go somewhere else? I keep expecting someone to crash into us.’

They skated to the edge of the lake, where Embla removed her iceblades. Then they sat on one of the low benches and watched the black figures criss-crossing and circling as the sun, a huge glowing fireball, sank towards the mountain. An ominous blood-red light flared across the glistening ice.

‘I’ve changed my mind,’ said Embla. ‘I don’t like your cousin at all.’

Helgi grunted and said, ‘I wasn’t expecting this to happen. Fighting the Ericssons, yes, but fighting among ourselves?—that’s crazy! Let’s hope it blows over. I don’t want to have to choose sides.’

‘I don’t know what Hedin thinks he’s doing, goading Audun like that,’ said Embla. ‘Audun’s horribly jealous and we’ve got enough trouble on our hands already with blood-feuds.’ She shivered and tucked a loose strand of fair hair behind her ear. ‘Are you nervous about tomorrow?’

‘Don’t ask me that,’ Helgi said uncomfortably.

‘I asked Solveig whether there was anything she could do about it. I hope you don’t mind.’

‘Embla! If Solveig talks to her brothers it’ll only make things worse!’ Helgi cried in a horrified voice.

‘That’s exactly what she said. They wouldn’t listen to her anyway. Thorgrim keeps laughing about how they’re going to “take you apart”. … Oh, I wish I could help you!’

Helgi got up to leave—he didn’t want to hear any more—but Embla pleaded, ‘Don’t go.’ She took his hand and closed both her hands gently around it. Helgi looked down at their joined hands and glanced at her shyly. His heart stood still; he hardly dared to breathe. What did she mean by this? After a moment, Embla turned his palm upwards and spread it open. She bent closer, peering at the fine lines etched on the skin, and traced them slowly several times with her finger. The light, tickling sensation made him want to shiver and scrunch up his hand, but he was afraid to move or speak.

Embla closed her eyes and began to murmur, as if reading someone else’s words aloud with difficulty, in a slow halting voice, with many hesitations.

‘Helgi, you are luckier than most men … for a gift has been conferred on you … It is your lot to climb higher and descend deeper … to see further and know more than most men … to move between the worlds … between the living and the dead … living and yet dead …’

‘What … what do you mean?’ Helgi gasped.

Embla dropped his hand suddenly as if recalled to the present. She rubbed her eyes, then stood up and walked away. Helgi felt confused and deeply disturbed.

‘What … what was that all about?’ he said angrily, nursing his rejected hand.

Embla’s face coloured and she gave an awkward shrug.

‘I read your hand,’ she said in a trembling voice. ‘Or at least I tried to. I stared at the lines and after a while I thought I saw letters forming before my eyes … words taking shape … but they didn’t make sense. They wouldn’t stay still. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have done it.’

‘I didn’t know you could prophesy!’ said Helgi, gazing at her in wonder.

At that moment, the setting sun flamed across the ice and dazzled him, altering his perception. Embla’s face and hair seemed kindled with light—transfigured with an awful beauty, like a gilded statue in a temple. He wanted to shield his eyes but he could not move or look away. While that moment lasted, it was as if he was seeing into her, seeing her as she really was, and he knew that she had spoken with authority. She had read his fate just as surely as she had once traced and read aloud the marks inscribed on her comb.

‘Tell me—tell me again what you saw!’ he cried, bounding over to her. Embla backed away, squirming with embarrassment.

‘No—please, Helgi, I’m not a fortune-teller. Really, I’m not.’ Tears welled in her eyes and she brushed them away impatiently. ‘I don’t know why I’m crying!’ she said, half-laughing.

‘You mean you were making it up?’

‘No, no, I would never do that!’ said Embla, shocked by the suggestion. ‘I’ve been feeling afraid for you and wishing I knew what lay ahead, but I’ve never been much good at predictions. And with so much on my mind, it’s easy to see things that aren’t there.’

‘What was it you saw then?’ Helgi asked her.

‘Your hand is written with lines—lifelines. When the lines are read properly, they reveal what was laid down for you at birth. The scratches are surface ripples caused by things lying in the depths of a person’s past. If a true seeress examined your lines, she’d be able to sound out the past events which are shaping your life now, and once she’d understood the obligations that rule your life, she could recommend a proper course of action.’

Helgi opened his palm and inspected it, but didn’t feel any the wiser. ‘So, er … what do you recommend?’

‘I can’t recommend anything, because it wasn’t a true reading. The words that came to me were just nonsense. Move between worlds, dead yet still alive … how can that be possible?’ Embla said, with a short, incredulous laugh.

Helgi couldn’t make sense of it either, though he had been convinced of its truth at the time. He wished he could recapture that strange moment of luminous insight.

‘What if it’s true?’ he asked her in a quiet voice.

Embla shot him a frightened glance.

Helgi laughed uneasily and said, ‘Are you telling me I’m going to die?’

‘No, no, of course not!’ said Embla firmly and sharply. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Helgi, I told you, it was nonsense. A person can’t be both living and dead … Look, just forget it—I was talking rubbish. Come on, let’s go back for supper—I’m getting cold, and I want to find Audun and cheer him up.’

She turned away and walked off in the direction of the encampment.

‘Embla, come back!’

She ignored him. Helgi ran after her, caught hold of her arm, and pulled her round to face him.

‘Look, Embla, maybe it came out garbled, but something did happen back there—I know you saw the truth. And you know it too. You’re just too scared to admit it.’

‘Let go of me!’ said Embla. She struggled, and her eyes grew wide with fear.

Helgi held her tightly by the wrists and shook his head, laughing. ‘No, not until you admit it!’

‘I told you—I couldn’t see clearly,’ Embla insisted, almost angrily. ‘But if it were true, it would only confirm something that I’ve known for a very long time, ever since we first met.’

‘Which is?’

Panting a little, she stopped struggling, and gave him a hard searching look.

‘Which is … that there is something rather unusual about you.’

Helgi waited breathlessly to hear what she had to say.

‘In fact, Helgi, I can truthfully say … that you are the oddest person I know.’

She snorted and collapsed in giggles.

‘Embla, stop mucking about!’ said Helgi, thoroughly annoyed.

Still laughing, Embla tore herself free and skipped away, dancing backwards and dodging sideways when he tried to catch her, until finally she broke away from him altogether and ran off.

Helgi could not understand how she could treat it as a joke. Some dark and terrible truth had been disclosed to them—how could she make light of it? Puzzled and infuriated, he set off after her across the darkening field.

Chapter 13