Sun in Glory and Other Tales of Valdemar

He sounded so put out by it, Jors couldn't prevent a smile. :Never mind, Heart-brother.

Calida and her Chosen have been together for many years; when we've been together for that long, I'll hear you if I'm in Sorrows and you're in Sensholding.:

:I'd rather we were never that far apart.:

Jors wrapped one hand in Gervis' silken mane. :Me either :

:Sleep now, Chosen. It will be morning soon enough.:

* * *

When Jors opened his eyes again, weak autumn sunlight filtered into the stable. An attempt to rise brought Gervis in through the open door. He pulled himself to his feet with a handful of mane and, throwing an arm over his Companion's back, managed to get to where he could relieve himself.

:The old woman made them bury the child this morning.:

:They're only a day's ride from town; they can't wait for a priest?:

:The bridge is gone. The priest cannot come.: He pawed the ground with a front hoof and added. :I don't think the old woman would send for a priest even if he could come.:

:Do you know where they are?:

:Yes.:

Jors took a deep breath and, holding it, managed to swing himself up on Gervis' bare back. :Let's go, then.:

The tanners had a graveyard in a small clearing cupped by the surrounding oak forest.

When Jors arrived, the three men had just finished filling in the tiny hole. As Jors stopped, half hidden by a large sumach, Brock wiped the tears from his face on Calida's mane and stepped up to the grave.

'There is no priest. I will say good-bye to the baby.'

'I'm not listening to a half-wit say anything,' the old woman snarled. She turned on one heel and started down the hill. 'I only came to see the job was done right. Enric, Kern, Simen; back to work, there's hides to be sammied.'

Two of the three moved to her side, the third looked toward the young woman and hesitated. 'He was my son, Ma.'

'He was my son, Ma.' She threw it mockingly over her shoulder. 'Look around you, Simen. I've buried a son, two daughters, and a husband besides, and it don't make hides tan themselves. Stay and listen to the half-wit if you want.'

'Dory?'

She lifted stony eyes to Simen's face. 'Better do as your ma says,' she sneered.

''Cause you always do as your ma says.'

Scarred hands curled into fists, but they stayed at his side. 'Fine. I'll go.'

'I don't care.'

'Fine.' But when he turned, Brock was in his way.

Jors tensed to urge Gervis forward, but at the last instant, for no clear reason, he changed his mind.

'Stay and say good-bye.' A heavy shove rocked him in place but didn't move him.

'Stay.' And then gently. 'Say good-bye to baby.'

Simen stared down into Brock's face, then wordlessly turned back to the grave.

Brock returned to his place and rubbed his nose on his sleeve. 'Sometimes,' he said,

'babies die. Mamas and papas love them, and hug them, and kiss them, and feed them, and they die. Nobody did anything bad. Everyone is sorry. The baby wasn't bad. Babies are good. Good-bye, baby.'

'His name,' Simen said, so quietly Jors almost missed it, 'was Tamas.'

Brock nodded solemnly. 'Good-bye, Tamas. Everyone is sorry.' He lifted his head and stared at Tamas' parents standing hunch-shouldered, carefully apart. 'Now, you cry.'

Dory shook her head. 'Crying is for the weak.'

'You have tears.' Brock tapped his own chest. 'In here. Tears not cried go bad. Bad tears make you hurt.'

'You heard Aysa. She buried a son and two daughters. She never cried.'

'She is the mean lady,' Brock said sadly. 'You can't be the mean lady.' He opened his arms and, before Dory could move, wrapped her in one of his all-encompassing hugs.

Jors knew from experience that when Brock hugged, he held nothing back.

It was a new experience for Dory.

She blinked twice, drew in a long shuddering breath, then clutched at his tattered sweater and began to sob. After a moment, Brock reached out one hand, grabbed Simen and pulled him into the embrace.

'Cry now,' he commanded.

'I...' Simen shook his head and tried to pull away.

Brock pulled him closer, pushing Dory into his arms and wrapping himself around them both. Simen stiffened then made a sound, very like his son might have made, and gave himself over to grief. All three of them sank to their knees.

:These people need help.:

Gervis shifted his head. :It seems they're getting it:

* * *

With the funeral over, Jors pulled himself into something resembling official shape and sought out Aysa.

'Your son attacked a Herald.'

'His son just died. He was mad with grief.'

'You goaded his brothers...'

'To stand by him,' she sneered triumphantly. 'I never told no one to hit you. And now I'm givin' you and that half-wit food and shelter. You can't ask for more, Herald.'

Given that he and Brock were trapped on her side of the river, he supposed he'd better not. 'About the bridge...'

Without the bridge, there was no way back. The river wasn't particularly wide, but the water ran deep and fast.

'You come out here to stick your nose in on us, then you're stuck out here till we head in to town and we ain't headin' nowheres until them hides is done. We wasted time enough with Dory having that baby. You want to leave before that, then you and the half-wit can rebuild the bridge yourself.'

'That's fair. I can't expect you to drop everything and assist me.' His next words wiped the triumphant sneer from her face. 'I'll have them send a crew out from town.'

'You can't get word to town.'

He smiled, hoping he looked a lot more confident of the conversation's outcome than he felt. 'There's a Herald there and I already have. By this time tomorrow, there'll be a dozen people in the valley.'

'Liar.'

'Heralds can't lie, Ma.'

'Shut up!' Aysa half turned and Kern winced away as though he expected to be hit. Lip curled, she turned back to Jors. 'I don't want a dozen people in the valley! And it don't take a dozen people anyway. And the water won't be down enough tomorrow.'

'Then I'll have them come when the water goes down.'

'You won't have no one come. My boys'll rebuild.'

'Then the townspeople can help.'

'My boys don't need help. They ain't got brains for much, but they can do that. You let them know in town I'm hostin' you and the half-wit till then.'

It was a grudgingly offered truce, but he'd take it.

Jors wasn't surprised that Aysa'd refused help. The last thing she'd want would be her sons exposed to more people, to people who'd make them realize they were entitled to be treated with kindness. Over the next few days, while they waited for the water to recede, she proved that by keeping him by her side, keeping him from interacting