Odin's Game

by Tim Hodkinson

  Audun cursed and Einar felt a thump as the other man deliberately shouldered his way past him. He smiled again as he took off after Audun once more.

  The ball continued to shuttle back and forth, up and down the pitch with neither side able to hit their opponents’ goal. All the players were out of breath now and steam rose from their sweat-plastered heads and clothing into the cold air like the smoke that drifted from the volcanic mountains to the north. Einar’s leg muscles ached and the bottom of his back felt stiff as an old man’s. He began to long for the sound of the horn that would signal a break.

  Gunnar broke free. Expertly controlling the ball before him with his bat, he crossed the halfway line and into Vididal territory. Einar put his head down and charged after him, desperate to be there to support his captain and help put the scores level. Gunnar, seeing two defenders in front of him, glanced right and spotted Einar in the clear. He held onto the ball just long enough to draw the defenders to him then, at the last minute, flicked it to his right. The ball shot across the ice to Einar and he, fighting to control his excitement, took control of it. He looked up to see there was no one between him and the defenders who stood before the goal.

  This time Einar felt it. There was no mistaking the touch of Audun’s bat as the Vididal captain crooked it round Einar’s ankle and yanked backwards, pulling his left leg from under him. Einar, yelling with consternation, crashed to the ice once again. The ball slid on.

  He landed heavily but was back on his feet in an instant. He stormed back towards Audun. The Vididal captain saw him coming and puffed out his chest.

  ‘What’s your problem?’ Audun asked.

  ‘You tripped me,’ Einar said. His throat felt very tight like it was bound in an iron slave collar and his voice was not much more than a harsh whisper.

  ‘Piss off,’ Audun said.

  Einar felt strange, like his head was too light for his body and the world seemed to swim before his eyes.

  ‘You’ll be sleeping in the barn with the dogs when my father takes your mother and her farm,’ Audun said, keeping his voice low so only they could hear.

  Einar was unaware that he had balled his right hand into a fist. He was as surprised as Audun when that fist smashed into the Vididal captain’s jaw. It was like someone had taken over his body and Einar himself was inside, not in control but instead watching what was happening through his own eyes. Audun stumbled backwards, his face a mask of confusion. Einar stepped forward and punched him again. This time Audun’s legs buckled and he dropped to a sitting position on the ice. Only dimly aware of the shouts of protest and outrage that erupted among the spectators, Einar swung his leg, kicking Audun in the face and sending him sprawling onto his back.

  Looking down and seeing Audun completely at his mercy, Einar felt as if he was in a dream. The shouting of the crowd and fellow players seemed very far away while everything around him appeared bathed in a strange, red hue. He had been very angry but it felt now like ice was flowing through his veins. All he wanted to do was hit and hit and hit the man on the ground until all was left was a bloody mess. As if noticing it for the first time, he caught sight of the bat in his left hand and began smashing it down, thumping Audun in the chest, the arm, the side. Audun, dazed, groaned and tried to lift his arms to protect himself but his movements were weak and ineffective. Einar tossed his bat aside and fell on him, straddling his chest and raining punches into his face.

  Then Einar felt arms around him and many hands grabbing him. He was hauled up and away from Audun. He let out a roar of frustration at being dragged away from the object of his hate but he could not fight them all. He was shoved down flat onto the ice and pinned there. Five men were on him and he felt like he was in a jumble of arms and legs while hands pushed his face onto the freezing ice. Einar cursed and spat but could do nothing about it. Gnashing his teeth he saw Audun lying a short way away, his once handsome face now little more than a blood-soaked mess. He was waving his hands in weak, vague circles above him as if still trying to fend off Einar’s assault.

  Approaching across the ice, his face the purple colour of heather in bloom, was Audun’s father, Hrapp the Goði.

  ‘You’re in big trouble, boy,’ Hrapp growled down at him.

  Nine

  ‘By laws was our land built up. By lawlessness it will be destroyed,’ Skapti the Law Speaker said, his voice loud to make it heard by the crowd gathered before him above the noise of the buffeting wind. ‘Our forefathers settled this country to escape the tyranny of arrogant kings. We choose to live without a king to keep the peace because we know the price he demands in return is our freedom. But in order that our land does not descend into chaos we must keep the laws our forefathers laid down.’

  The people in the crowd nodded or murmured ‘Aye’ in agreement.

  ‘This court’ – Skapti spread his arms wide – ‘is here to uphold those laws, punish those who break them and provide restitution to their victims.’

  Einar heard a loud tut beside him and saw his mother shaking her head. Skapti heard it too and shot an angry glance in her direction.

  ‘Have you something to say, Unn?’ the Law Speaker demanded. ‘If so now is the time to speak up.’

  ‘Men like Hrapp are nothing but bullies,’ Unn said, her voice loud. She spoke to the gathered crowd as much as to Skapti. ‘They use the law to get what they want. They twist the law for their own ends. It’s not they who need protection. It’s the poor people who need protection from them.’

  Skapti shook his head but there were mutters of assent from the crowd around Unn. An equal number of people looked offended by the suggestion.

  They were gathered for the district assembly, the þing. All the landowners of the district met at a natural amphitheatre made from lava rock near the river. They were there to discuss and agree various matters on the running of the district and hear legal cases. Einar cursed his luck that his fight with Audun had happened at Dísablót because the assembly met four times a year and the sacrifice festival was one of those times. Had it happened a few days later, all involved would have had the long, dark winter to cool their heads and perhaps come to some sort of private settlement. As it was, Audun’s case would be judged with all parties involved still seething with anger about it.

  To make things worse, after his fight with Audun the Knattleikr game had been abandoned. Neither side satisfied, the rivalry would fester for another year. Everyone was talking about how in the meantime it could lead to more trouble.

  All in all, Einar was far from popular.

  He and his mother had been there all day, listening to endless tedious debates about who should be responsible for upkeep of the common pathways across the district and where farmers’ sheep or goats should be allowed to roam. All these matters seemed incredibly important to those involved but bored Einar to the point of pain. To make matters worse the þing was held in the open air, so he was freezing his balls off while listening to the unending arguments. At last, as the day began to wane, the topic for deliberation moved to Audun’s case against him.

  Audun stood beside his father. At the sight of him Einar could not help a half-smile creeping across his face. Audun’s face was puffed and bruised, both eyes blackened, one arm was in a sling and his shoulders were hunched as if he was trying to hug himself against the pain in his ribs.

  ‘Two lost teeth, a third cracked,’ Skapti iterated through the injuries Audun had suffered. ‘At least one broken rib, several bruised. Broken nose. Possible cracked arm bone—’

  ‘Oh get on with it!’’ Hrapp interrupted. He was doing his best to seem impatient but most knew that he was ashamed at the beating his son had taken. ‘We all saw what happened,’ he blustered. ‘You were there yourself, Skapti. We don’t need to go through all this formality. Can’t we just get to the settlement?’

  Skapti’s brows knitted and his nostrils flared. ‘Did you hear nothing of what I said about the Law?’ he said. ‘Have you no regard for it?’

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sp; Hrapp rolled his eyes and soon even Einar felt himself sharing the Goði’s frustration as witness after witness was called, each in turn telling roughly the same tale of what had happened during the Knattleikr game. The only difference seemed to be that those from Vididal seemed oblivious to any possible foul play by Audun while the Midfjord folk were as adamant that it had happened.

  Eventually all were heard and Skapti sat down on a nearby rock, his eyes gazing skyward as if looking for inspiration from the Gods. His forehead creased in a frown.

  The crowd fell into an expectant babble as folk discussed the case among themselves. Einar noticed that several men exchanged money and realised they were laying wagers on the outcome. Hrapp stood scowling. Audun glared in Einar’s direction. Einar tried to ignore them and looked around him instead. Beyond the gathered crowd the rugged, bleak countryside of Iceland stretched for miles in every direction, its green gorse and heather a mere skin over the black bones of the earth beneath. Rocks pushed through the soil in jagged pinnacles, creating magnificent natural castles, towers and walls. Skiffs of snow flitted through the air as winter seduced the land with a light caress that would soon turn to an iron stranglehold. It was harsh but it was magnificent. It was his home. Einar let out a deep sigh.

  Unn, thinking her son was impatient with the proceedings, tutted again. ‘You needn’t sigh like that,’ she scolded. ‘They’ll get to judgement soon enough and then I fear the price Hrapp will demand. If you’d kept control of your temper we wouldn’t be in this mess. You were always fighting as a boy. I thought paying Egil to teach you weapon fighting might have channelled your aggression but you can’t help yourself. That rage will be the death of you one day. Or me. It will certainly cost us both dear today. I blame your father.’

  Einar shot a glance at his mother. He opened his mouth but at that moment Skapti stood up. An expectant hush fell on the crowd. He looked around at them all, drew himself upright, shoulders back. It was time for judgement.

  ‘In legal terms, the facts of this case are plain,’ he said. ‘Most of us saw what happened with our own eyes so there is little to dispute in that regard. Einar Kjartinsson assaulted Audun Hrappsson. Audun probably acted in provocation—’

  Hrapp opened his mouth to protest but the Lawspeaker held up a hand to silence him.

  ‘—but the facts remain that Audun suffered physical damage in the fight,’ Skapti continued, ‘and the laws of our land are very clear that in such circumstances the victim is entitled to demand compensation from his attacker. As Einar suffered no injuries in the fracas, and he was the person guilty of the attack on Audun, he is entitled to nothing in this case.’

  Audun and Hrapp punched fists in the air and grinned in triumph.

  ‘Audun,’ Skapti continued, ‘as the injured party you can now name your compensation price. The Law states a range of penalties for each of the injuries you suffered and some of the amounts you can claim are high, particularly for the battering to your face, but’ – he held up a cautionary finger – ‘most people would hope that you will take into account that this was just a silly fight during a game where feelings were running high on all sides. And you were not entirely without blame. I must leave it up to you to decide, but if I was in your shoes I would be inclined to be lenient.’

  Audun’s grin widened. He looked at his father who clapped a hand on his shoulder as if in congratulation.

  ‘We have already calculated the compensation Audun deserves,’ Hrapp said.

  Einar noticed his mother had closed her eyes.

  ‘Name your price,’ Skapti said.

  Hrapp spoke. A gasp went through the crowd.

  Skapti’s dark eyebrows shot up towards his white hair. ‘You demand the maximum price possible?’ he said, his voice rising in astonishment. ‘Are you sure?’

  Hrapp nodded. Einar groaned. The compensation price was crippling; much, much more than either he or his mother could afford. He looked at her. Suddenly Unn seemed very old. She looked utterly crushed and his heart felt as heavy as a stone. There was only one way they could meet this debt.

  ‘I will have to sell the farm,’ she whispered, as if in disbelief. Einar knew what this meant to her. To lose the land she, a woman alone in a land surrounded by people of a different faith, had struggled so hard to hold onto for all her life must be utterly devastating. He felt his anger begin to rise again, not just at Audun but at the greed of his bully of a father, Hrapp.

  ‘I urge you to reconsider,’ Skapti said, raising his voice to be heard above the excited babble that had broken out across the gathered crowd.

  Hrapp shook his head. Audun smiled in Einar’s direction and Einar felt a cold sweat break out down his spine. His hands balled into fists at his side and he dug his fingers into his palm as he fought to control his temper. He had done enough harm already. At all costs he had to keep control and think.

  ‘If Unn and Einar do not have enough silver,’ Hrapp announced, ‘I am prepared to accept Unn’s farm land instead—’

  ‘That’s all you wanted all along!’ Unn wailed. Her voice was bitter with the agony tearing her apart inside. Einar could see she was on the verge of tears but fighting to hold them back, to remain strong in the face of her persecutor. He felt a stab in his chest as if someone had driven a red-hot blade through his ribs. This was all his fault. What could he do? He racked his mind trying to think of any options open to them.

  Hrapp himself looked slightly discomfited. ‘However, there is an alternative we would consider,’ he said. The expectant hush returned to the crowd. When a reasonable silence had taken over Hrapp continued. ‘If Unn would consider becoming my wife, we could share ownership of her farm.’

  The people of Midfjord, Vididal and the rest of the district burst into excited babble once again. Astonishment showed on every face.

  ‘Never!’ Einar shouted. His throat was tight and it gave his words a harsh, angry tone that echoed around the lava rocks. ‘My mother is not some bed-slave to be bought and sold like farmland!’

  Skapti shrugged. ‘It’s a fair offer, son.’ The murmurs of assent from the crowd around him told Einar that many agreed.

  ‘Wait, wait!’ Einar held up his hand. ‘There’s another option.’

  The hush fell on the crowd again. Unn’s expression changed from dismay to one of dread and she reached out to grasp Einar’s left hand.

  ‘No, son,’ she breathed. ‘Don’t do it.’

  Einar shook his head and pulled his hand away from her. Skapti looked Einar in the eye and held his gaze for a long moment.

  ‘Are you sure you know what you are about to say?’ the Law Speaker said at length. ‘Once said it cannot be undone.’

  ‘I do,’ Einar straightened his back. Suddenly all was clear to him. The scowl that had crept over Hrapp’s face made him even more sure of what he was about to do. ‘The Law says that if a man cannot afford a compensation payment he can accept a sentence of outlawry instead.’

  ‘That is true,’ Skapti said, now looking at Einar with new respect.

  ‘I demand that right,’ Einar said. His mother sobbed beside him as if her heart had finally broken asunder. Hrapp cursed. Einar clenched his jaw, fighting to keep his resolution.

  Skapti nodded. ‘Very well.’ He held up one hand and the crowd lapsed into total silence.

  ‘Einar Unnsson, I sentence you to become an outlaw,’ the Law Speaker declared. ‘This sentence is temporary and will last for two years. During that time you no longer have the protection of the Law. You are outside society like a wolf and like a wolf any man you meet may kill you without fear of being prosecuted himself. You are banished. You must leave your home and you must leave this land. If you do not do this you will be hunted down and put to death. You are nothing in the sight of the people and the Gods. Leave now, and do not darken this land with your shadow until two years have passed.’

  Ten

  Einar looked around him, taking in the wide bay where white-topped waves crashed onto the black san
d of the beach. The white froth hissed and sucked as the sea retreated before coming back to claim another stretch of the land. In the little fishing settlement, rows of low houses huddled around the shore of the natural harbour and many small boats were drawn up on the sand. A long wooden pier jutted into the sea where a couple of larger ships were tied up. Women sat outside the huts on the shore, singing cheerful songs as they gutted herrings, their blades working in rhythm with the tune. There had been a bountiful catch and so much blood poured from the filleted fish that it gathered into a stream that ran down onto the beach. The fresh sea breeze now and again wafted the stench of fish guts to Einar’s nostrils. The thought occurred to him that this could be the last time he would look on this. He hoped the blood was not an omen for his journey.

  A little way offshore, a knarr waited, bobbing on the waves. The long, wide-bodied merchant ship had come from Norway laden with timber and other essentials for survival on Iceland's bleak landscape. Now it waited for the turn of the tide that would take it back south with a new cargo of arctic furs, seal skins and salted fish. The ship was at the edge of sight, everything beyond it disappearing into a cloak of grey mist that was as impenetrable as the future. Einar swallowed at the thought that Asmundarsson had owned just such a vessel.

  Dísablót was over. Next would come the dark, frozen days of winter and the feast of Jól. Spring would return and the Þorriblót would be held. As the days grew longer and warmer the folk would hold the great sacrificial feasts, the blóts, for Freya then Odin as midsummer came around, then harvest as the days began to shorten again and the great wheel of the year travelled full circle. The wheel would revolve two times before he would see his homeland again.