Meltwater (Fire and Ice)

expectantly.
    Magnus approached him. ‘Jóhannes?’
    The man got to his feet. He was the same height as Magnus. ‘Yes. You must be Sergeant Magnús?’
    ‘That’s right.’ They shook hands and sat down. ‘I’m very glad you called, Jóhannes, but I don’t have much time. Shall we order now?’ He waved
down a waitress. He ordered a salad, Jóhannes a sausage.
    ‘Good choice, this,’ said Magnus.
    ‘Yes, I think so,’ said Jóhannes. ‘I bring my classes here whenever I can.’
    ‘You’re a schoolteacher?’
    ‘Yes. Icelandic. Have you been inside recently?’
    Magnus smiled. ‘It’s one of my favourite places in this city.’
    ‘Mine too. Have you seen Gaukur’s Saga ?’
    Magnus nodded. ‘Yes, I have seen it.’
    ‘Remarkable, isn’t it? I can’t believe it’s real.’
    ‘Oh, it’s real, all right,’ Magnus said. A lot of people had gone to a lot of effort twelve months before establishing that. ‘I used to read sagas over and over when I
was a kid in America. It’s wonderful to see the real things here.’
    Jóhannes smiled. ‘I’m glad to hear it. I suppose you could say it has been my life’s work to bring the sagas to adolescent children.’
    ‘A noble thing to do,’ Magnus said.
    Jóhannes nodded. ‘I think so.’
    ‘Hi, Magnus.’
    Magnus looked up in surprise to see his brother approaching the table. Ollie’s face was grim. ‘Hi, Ollie, I’m glad you came.’
    Ollie nodded curtly and looked at Jóhannes with an air of insolence. Magnus could feel the schoolteacher bridle.
    ‘Let me introduce my brother, Óli,’ Magnus said in Icelandic. ‘This is Jóhannes Benediktsson. His father was a neighbour of Grandpa’s at
Bjarnarhöfn.’
    ‘Hi,’ said Ollie. Or was it ‘ Hae’ , the Icelandic greeting?
    ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Jóhannes,’ said Magnus. ‘Do you mind if we speak English? My brother doesn’t speak Icelandic.’
    ‘That will be acceptable,’ said Jóhannes in a precise accent.
    ‘What do you want, Ollie?’ Magnus said, catching the waitress’s eye. Ollie’s surliness irritated him, but maybe it was a sign that his brother was finally accepting that
Magnus was going to ask difficult questions, whatever Ollie thought.
    ‘I’ll take a Coke,’ he said, and sat down, crossing his arms.
    Jóhannes was watching Ollie with ill-disguised distaste.
    ‘I’ve read a couple of your father’s books,’ Magnus said to him. ‘But only recently.’
    ‘Let me guess,’ said Jóhannes. ‘ Moor and the Man and “The Slip”?’
    Magnus nodded. ‘I enjoyed Moor and the Man . It reminded me a bit of—’
    ‘Halldór Laxness?’ Jóhannes interrupted. ‘But not quite as good?’ He eyed Magnus suspiciously.
    ‘I was going to say Steinbeck.’
    Jóhannes smiled. ‘I’m sorry. I am a little sensitive about my father and his literary reputation. I have had a trying time recently. I lost my job two days ago, and I’ve
discovered some disturbing facts.’
    ‘Sorry about the job,’ said Magnus.
    ‘Thirty-one years I’ve been showing children the wonders of our literature. Thirty-one years.’
    ‘That’s tough.’ Magnus paused while the waitress delivered their meals. ‘So, what did you find out?’
    Magnus ate while Jóhannes told him about his trip to Búdir and the confrontation that the groom there had witnessed between Hallgrímur and Benedikt a few weeks before
Benedikt’s murder. Magnus listened closely. Ollie’s arms were firmly folded and a scowl was fixed on his face, the Coke in front of him untouched. But he was listening too.
    ‘So when I left Stykkishólmur, Unnur, who is my aunt’s niece, told me that you had done some investigating yourself last year.’
    ‘I have,’ said Magnus. ‘Like you, I spotted that Moor and the Man and “The Slip” both seemed to describe real events: the murder of Benedikt’s father
by Hallgrímur’s father, and then the killing of Hallgrímur’s father by Benedikt on Búland’s Head.’
    ‘I notice you don’t say murder,’ Jóhannes said.
    ‘I suppose I should have done,’ Magnus said. ‘It was murder, wasn’t it?’
    ‘It was revenge,’ said Jóhannes. ‘We were just talking about the sagas. My father was a good man. I think he thought it was his duty to avenge the murder of his own
father. You remember what Thorstein’s father tells him in “The Tale of Thorstein the Staff-Struck” just before the duel? “I would rather lose you than have a coward
son.” I often think of