Sun in Glory and Other Tales of Valdemar

with anyone else at the holding.

Brock, she considered no threat.

Which was a mistake.

Because Brock treated everyone with kindness.

* * *

'You call that supple?! I could do better chewin' it! How could you be doin' this all your life and still be no damned good? You're pathetic.' Enric and Kern leaped back as she threw the piece of finished leather down at their feet. 'Pathetic,' she repeated and stomped away.

'Mean lady calls me names, too,' Brock sighed, coming out from behind the fleshing beam and picking up the hide.

Enric ripped it out of his hands. 'We ain't half-wits.'

'Mean lady calls me half-wit. Not you.'

'You are a half-wit!'

'Are you pathetic?'

Kern jerked forward, face flushed. 'You callin' us pathetic?'

'No. It hurts when people call names.' Brock looked from one to the other. 'Doesn't it hurt?'

'If your half-wit falls in a liming pit,' Aysa snarled as Jors caught up, 'my boys'll stand there and laugh.'

'You taught them that.'

'I'm all they got.'

'They're terrified of you.'

'Good.'

'Dory isn't.'

'You think one of my boys is stupid enough to pick up a weakling?' Aysa nodded toward the garden where Dory heaped cabbage into a basket. 'But she does what I say like the rest. If she doesn't like it, she can leave any time.'

While they watched, Dory lifted the basket, gave a little cry and let it fall.

Aysa snorted. ''Course that baby left her stupidly weak.'

Jors took a step toward the garden but stopped as Simen came out of the chicken house and hurried across to his wife.

'Simen! You get back to work, you lazy pig.'

His mother's voice froze him in his tracks. Then he shook himself, and began retrieving the spilled cabbages. 'Simen!'

He ignored her.

'This is your fault, Herald. Turning a woman's family against her.' Muttering under her breath, she strode toward them.

Dory looked up, saw her coming and stood, hands on hips.

'You think you can face me down, girl? Simen, get up!'

He stood.

'Now get back to work.'

He took a step forward and put his hands on Dory's shoulders. 'When I'm finished here, Ma.'

Aysa's mouth worked for a moment, but no sound emerged. Finally, she spun on one heel and stomped away.

The corner of Simen's mouth curled. 'You'd best help here, Herald. I wouldn't follow her right now.'

* * *

The river was low enough the next day.

The bridge took only a day longer to rebuild and for the most part involved fitting the original pieces back into place.

Jors stared the completed bridge in amazement. 'That's incredible.'

'Nothin' incredible about it, Herald,' Enric snorted. 'Damned thing goes out every other season. Easier to build it so it breaks apart clean.'

His bare torso red with cold, Kern shrugged into a sheepskin coat. 'Supports slip out so they don't shatter, logs end up in the same place, we float 'em back and rebuild. Any idiot can do it.'

'Trust me, I've crossed a hundred rivers-or maybe a couple of rivers a hundred times-but I've never seen anything like this.'

'Ma says it's not...' Simen paused, frowned, and looked up at the Herald. 'It's really good?'

'It's really good.'

The brothers exchanged confused looks and Jors had the horrible suspicion this was the first time they'd ever been praised for anything.

* * *

The next day while Jors was checking Calida's girth strap for the trip back to town, Dory came out of the house with a bundle. 'It's for Brock,' she said, folding back a corner. 'I want you to give it to him for me.'

At first Jors thought it was white leather. Made sense; they were tanners after all. Then he realized the leather had been cut and sewn into a fair approximation of Herald's whites.

Dory had clearly taken the pattern from his and sized it to fit Brock.

'I saw he didn't have none of his own.'

Oh, help. 'Dory, you know he's not...'

'Brother Herald! We go now? What you got?' His hands and Dory's together closed the bundle.

'It's a surprise,' Dory said, her cheeks crimson. 'For later.'

'Not for now?'

'No.'

'Okay.' He took Calida's reins and stood waiting patiently while Jors tied the bundle behind Gervis' saddle. :You seem upset, Chosen.:

:I can't tell her Brock's not an actual Herald while he's standing there. He'll say he is, I'11 say he isn't, and I'm not sure that in this place at this time, I'd win the argument.:

:You shouldn't argue.:

:Oh, that's helpful.:

:Thank you.:

* * *

The whole family went with them to the bridge. Jors didn't know why the rest came, but he was certain Aysa just wanted to make sure they were off her land. He wanted to say something, something that would convince them they didn't have to live inside the darkness of an old woman's anger, but before he could think of the right words, Brock hugged Dory.

And Simen. And Enric. And Kern.

Then he scrambled up into the saddle and, from the safety of Calida's back, took a deep breath, looked Aysa in the eye, and spoke directly to her for the first time. 'Why don't you love your babies?'

Her lip curled. 'I buried my babies, half-wit.'

He nodded toward the three young men standing to her right. 'Not them.'

She turned, looked at her sons, looked back at

Brock and muttered, 'Half-wit.' But there was little force behind it.

Jors had no idea he was going to do what he did until he did it.

* * *

'Jors, you hugged mean lady.'

'Yeah. I know.' Although he still couldn't believe it. 'Everyone else got hugged, I just...'

She'd pushed him away with such force that he'd slammed back into Gervis' shoulder.

'You are the bravest Herald. Ever, ever.'

'Thank you.'

Then she'd snarled something incomprehensible, turned, and stomped away.