The two teams met in the centre of the pitch. They formed two opposing semicircles while their captains slid into the middle. Skapti the district Law Speaker and Goði Hrapp met them there.
‘Good luck, lads. May the best side win,’ Hrapp announced loudly. Then he winked at his son, Audun. ‘And we all know which one that is, eh?’ he added out of the side of his mouth.
‘Come on lads,’ Audun said over his shoulder to his team mates. ‘Let’s wipe the floor with these goat fuckers like we did last year. It shouldn’t be hard.’
Hrapp nodded to the Law Speaker. Skapti raised the horn to his lips and let out a loud blast. The chieftain tossed the hard wooden ball high into the air and the game was on.
Gunnar and Audun went up against each other for the ball. Both men leapt as high as they could. They were fully stretched, right arms reaching to snatch the falling ball, their hands at the same height. Either of them might get it.
Then Gunnar swiped his bat. The long handle out-reached his opponent and there was a sharp crack as the face of the bat hit the hard wooden ball. The ball shot downward, smacking into the ice then skittering across it in the direction of the Midfjord team’s half of the pitch. A cheer rose from the local supporters.
Einar and the rest of the team scrambled to get to their positions. He just avoided colliding with the Flokisson brothers, Hegg and Vestein, as they rushed back to guard the goal. Bersi had already gathered up the ball. The Midfjord team was on the attack.
Crouched forward, Bersi advanced, pushing the ball along the ice before him with his bat. Gunnar darted ahead up the middle of the pitch, weaving through the Vididal defenders. Two of them spotted him and straight away turned to mark him. Einar realised with two men on Gunnar it would leave his team with one man free. He charged as fast as he could down the far right of the pitch, mirroring Bersi’s advance on the left. As he went he waved his free hand in Gunnar’s direction, hoping to catch his team leader’s attention without alerting the Vididal defenders.
A few paces past the halfway mark, a defender closed on Bersi. Bersi glanced up, scooped the ball up off the ice with the bowl of his stick and flicked it into the air. Still moving, he followed through with a tremendous smash from the bat. The ball shot through the air, passing high over the defender’s head to fall back to the ice almost at Gunnar’s feet. It was a perfectly judged pass, but Einar felt his heart sink. The two defenders were onto Gunnar already and he would be able to do nothing with it.
The instant the ball touched the ice Gunnar flicked his bat, sending it onwards towards Einar. Gunnar was not even looking at him so Einar was taken by surprise, as was everyone else. He quickly recovered and skated forward to meet the ball skittering over the ice towards him. He stopped its sideways trajectory with his bat then surged forward, shepherding the ball before him. Einar could not believe his luck. There was no one around him and he had a clear run to the Vididal goal. He chanced a look ahead and saw the look of surprise on the faces of the two Vididal lads guarding the goal.
The ice shot past beneath his shoes as he flew towards the goal. He was almost close enough to take a shot. Einar raised his bat, allowing the ball to run freely before he struck it.
Einar felt as if his left foot had stopped dead, somehow stuck to the ice. He was already mid-shot and immediately lost his balance. Instead of smacking dead centre the head of the bat hit the top right of the ball and his shot sliced left. The two lads guarding the goal sprang to stop it but it was already wide of the target. As Einar spun his arms to regain balance the ball skipped across the ice a mere cat’s whisker to the left of the goal.
The home supporters in the crowd groaned in unison. A blast from the horn sounded and Einar heard raised voices among the spectators.
‘Watch that stick, Audun Hrappsson,’ Skapti called out. ‘This is a warning.’
‘It was accidental!’ Goði Hrapp shouted.
Skapti shook his head. Audun skated by Einar, brushing past his right shoulder. He swept in an arc around him then turned and came back, approaching Einar but now with his back to the Law Speaker. As he passed by he patted the shaft of his bat, a provoking smile on his face. Einar realised now what had snagged his leg and made him miss.
‘Arsehole,’ Audun muttered as he skated off.
Einar glanced towards Gunnar and saw he was shaking his head. The sight of his captain’s disappointment was almost harder to bear than Audun’s cheating.
The Vididal team now had the ball. One of their goal warders scooped it up and smacked it up the pitch, sending it sailing high over Einar’s head. The Midfjord team scrambled to re-organise and turn attack to defence. Einar pumped his legs, following Audun as Gunnar had instructed. His chest burned with the sudden exertion and he could feel sweat running down his face. The heavy leather trousers and fur jacket he wore felt like there was a fire burning inside them but he knew he would be glad of their thick padding if he hit the ice.
One of the Vididal players caught the ball in the bowl of his bat while it was still the air. He surged forward, breaking away from the Midfjord defender beside him. Einar kept his attention on Audun who was racing after the team mate with the ball. As he got closer, Audun lithely switched direction, sliding to the right and going behind a defender from Einar’s team, whose attention was focused on the man with the ball. Audun shot ahead, overtaking his own player, shouting to him as he went by. Einar saw there was now no one between Audun and the Midfjord goal apart from Hegg and Vestein the goal guards. Audun’s team mate spotted this and flicked the ball forwards across the ice. Audun, without stopping, collected it with his bat and began pushing it before him towards the goal.
Einar put his head down and powered after him. Gunnar had told him to mark him and he could not let him score. He powered over the ice and soon he was within touching distance of the Vididal captain. Audun was looking forwards, starting to judge the right spot to target to defeat the goal keepers.
Einar reached out with his stick for the ball, arms outstretched and bending forwards as far as he could without falling. He was still just behind Audun and could not quite reach the ball but the distance to the goal was narrowing rapidly. All he had to do was get in the way long enough so Audun would be unable to take his shot before he ran out of pitch.
Audun caught sight of Einar’s stick and shot a glance to see who was behind him. He looked back at the goal. Einar shoved his stick forward at the ball again, careful to connect with Audun’s stick and not his legs. Hitting the player would result in a penalty against him. Wood cracked as the bats collided, smacking off each other as they both fought to control the ball. Einar looked up and saw that it was too late for Audun to shoot now and felt a rush of satisfaction. He had done his job.
At that moment Audun cried out. He stumbled, sprawling forwards onto the ice, his stick flying away from him as he landed. Einar, a wry smile on his face at Audun’s misfortune, slid forwards and collected the ball at his leisure. He passed it back to the goal keepers then turned around.
By now Audun was sitting up. He had both hands raised and glared in the direction of the Skapti the Law Speaker.
‘Oh come on!?’ he shouted. He seemed to be making some sort of appeal.
Skapti the Law Speaker let out a blast on his horn and play stopped. Audun’s father, Hrapp, stomped towards him.
‘That was a deliberate trip!’ Goði Hrapp thundered. ‘Everyone saw it. You were quick to accuse my son so what are you going to do now?’
Skapti frowned. ‘I could not see what was going on. The big lad was in the way.’
‘The big lad used his stick to trip my son,’ Hrapp said. ‘He knew Audun was going to score so he deliberately brought him down.’
‘What?’ Einar was astonished. ‘My stick never went near him. He fell over.’
Skapti looked at him for a moment, then at Hrapp. Then he seemed to make up his mind.
‘Einar Kjartinsson,’ he said in a loud voice, raising his forefinger to point at him. ‘Audun may or may not have tripped you before but it’s up to me to referee this game not you. I won’t have players taking matters into their own hands and trying to get their own back. Free hit to Vididal.’
The Midfjord team and supporters let out another collective groan. Einar was incredulous.
‘What?’ he shouted. ‘Audun fell! I had nothing to do with it!’
Skapti shot a stern glare at him. ‘Perhaps you want me to put you out of the game as well?’ he said.
Einar let out a heavy sigh. His shoulders sagged. ‘No,’ he said.
Skapti nodded. He raised his horn and signalled the game was on again.
The disgruntled Midfjord players lined up along the edge of the pitch, their breaths and sweat causing steam to cloud the cold air while Audun prepared to take his free shot at goal. As there was only one goal defender allowed for a penalty, Hegg joined his team mates leaving Vestein alone to try to stop the shot.
‘What in the Gods’ names are you playing at?’ Gunnar demanded.
‘He’s cheating!’ Einar protested, arm outstretched towards Audun who was placing the ball on the ice about fifteen paces out from the goal. ‘He deliberately fell. My stick didn’t touch him. And before when I had a shot at goal, it was him who tripped me.’
‘He’s playing you like my uncle plays his fidla,’ Bersi commented. Audun frowned. Bersi’s uncle was famous as one of the best players of that musical instrument in Iceland.
‘Perhaps Thord should mark Audun,’ Gunnar wondered aloud.
‘No!’ Einar voice rose in pitch. ‘Give me one more chance. I won’t let him do that to me another time.’
Gunnar thought for a moment, then nodded. ‘All right. But if he gets round you again I’m switching you for Thord.’
A hush descended on players and crowd and Audun prepared to take his free shot. He stood, legs shoulder width apart, side on to the goal, bat hovering behind the ball, looking now up at the goal, now down at the ball again. Vestein was half crouched, stick in both hands, legs wide apart so he was ready to dive in either direction. His face was a mask of anxiety. Knowing how hard the ball was, and how fast it moved when struck, Einar did not envy his red-headed team mate whose job it was to put himself between it and the goal.
Audun drew his bat back in a sharp movement, glancing to his left as he did so. Catching his look, Vestein leapt in that direction, sprawling sideways onto the ice so his body would block the path of the ball. The moment he sprang, however, Audun checked his swing. He changed stance a half-step then completed his swing. There was the crack of wood as the bat hit the ball and Audun chipped it to the right instead. Vestein was left lying in the wrong direction as the ball skittered across the ice and smacked into the goal stone with a resounding clack.
With the cheers of the Vididal supporters ringing round them, both teams returned to the centre of the pitch to restart the game. The horn sounded and the game was on again. Play flowed up and down the pitch as first Midfjord, then Vididal attacked, lost the ball and switched to defence. Neither side managed to score. This continued for some time. Einar stuck to Audun like his life depended on it, following the Vididal captain around like they were tied together with a rope. Audun began to show signs of irritation at this, something which Einar took pleasure from.
A Vididal player hooked the ball in Audun’s direction, just past the halfway mark. Audun went to collect it but being so close to him, Einar powered forwards, getting in front of the Vididal captain and collecting the ball before he had the chance. Einar whacked it back, sending it flying across the ice towards Bersi.
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.