But by then Arn was already working on a brickworks. There was clay suitable for the task on the riverbank above the tannery on the eastern arm of the water, and it took Arn about a week to make his team of thralls understand how they were to shape the clay in wooden forms so that each piece was exactly the same size. He showed them how to bake the clay just as they baked bread, but for a longer time and at a higher heat using a bellows. Soon a new storehouse of brick began to rise next to the cookhouses. Arn took Erika on many tours around the building and up in the scaffolding to describe how they would be able to store ice from Lake Vänern to cool the brick chamber even during the hottest days of summer.

   In her evening prayers Erika constantly thanked God that He had sent them this prodigal son. Although he was not her son, he treated her like his mother, giving her days at Arnäs a light and a meaning that they had not had before. But to God she did not dare say what she thought every day, that Arn had come like an angel to Arnäs.

Eskil was ambivalent about Arn. He didn't really know what to make of this younger brother who suddenly rode into the castle courtyard one day on an ugly horse as if he had returned from the living dead, as miraculously as he had once been sent away, because of some alleged miracle.

   His first feeling had been strong brotherly love, for what Eskil remembered better than anything else in his life was the day when he and his younger brother were torn from each other outside the door of the longhouse. How he had run after the wagon in which Arn was taken away, and how at last he had collapsed sobbing in the wagon tracks, watching Arn in a haze of tears and road dust disappear forever, abducted on the orders of an incomprehensible God.

   When Eskil embraced Arn upon his return to the very place where they once had parted, his first impression was of a skinny, almost undernourished young man, until he felt the bearlike strength in Arn's arms when they were flung around his waist. Arn hugged Eskil so hard that he almost lost his breath. That had certainly been a moment of almost incomprehensible joy.

   But during the big welcome ale on that first evening, Eskil had already begun to feel uncomfortable for his younger brother. Arn didn't seem able to join in the celebration; he almost rudely shoved away his food, he drank ale like a woman, and in other ways he seemed to be a bit slow.

   An uneasiness seemed to settle in the air as father and elder brother drew back from Arn, and he in turn sensed their displeasure and sought instead the company of the thralls and the mistress of the estate. The retainers were the first to make faces, roll their eyes, and mockingly clasp their hands behind Arn's back. It made Eskil want to reprimand them, but he couldn't because he himself shared the feelings that the retainers displayed with their scorn.

   For a time the mood between them was neither light nor dark, and each minded his own business. Neither Magnus nor Eskil bothered to find out what Arn was working on with the thralls and cookhouse at the far southern end of Arnäs, since they seldom went there themselves.

   But some things were impossible to avoid noticing. For new sorts of meat were put on the table, and Eskil found most delicious a smoked ham that was not hard and dry and salty like the winter rations. This ham was so deliciously juicy that his mouth watered just thinking about it. And the other thing that was impossible not to notice was how Mistress Erika had changed, how she began speaking loudly and without embarrassment despite her ugly voice, and how she laughed and giggled at the table when she answered questions about the new things she could now present for both dinner and supper.

   Eskil was a man in favor of changes, just as he came to un derstand that his mother Sigrid had been as well, more so than his father. Changes that were good created wealth; if they were not good, then a different change was made. That's how it was and would remain at Arnäs; that's why their farm was better and bigger and richer than other people's farms where nothing was ever changed.

   For this reason Eskil could soon no longer tolerate remaining uninformed. He told Arn he would like to see what was happening, and Arn immediately expressed how pleased he was, almost elated, and he wanted to jump up in the middle of the meal to show everything to his older brother.

   What Eskil saw when they made their rounds caused him to change his fundamental opinion. Arn was in truth not slow at all; he knew exactly what he was doing. Eskil quickly admitted to himself that he had been unwise to judge him so hastily.

   When they went down to the thralls' quarters everything looked different because all the garbage had been mucked out, the way the cows' stalls were mucked out in the winter. They could walk around without worrying where they set their feet.

   At first Eskil said something in jest that he soon had cause to regret. He remarked that of course things looked better, but perhaps it wasn't much use letting thralls live more like real people.

   Then Arn explained quite seriously that the thralls were healthier now that all the uncleanliness was gone, that more of their children would survive, that healthy thralls were naturally much better than sick ones, just as living thralls were better than dead ones. He said that the contagion from sick thralls could also be spread to people, and thus cleanliness was of benefit to all. Then he explained his plans for the two waterways, how one would be kept clean, and how the latrine pits would replace using anywhere for a toilet, and how the shit could then be used as fertilizer and thereby do good instead of spreading disease.

   The seriousness with which Arn could speak of such base things as the thralls' shit made a twofold impression on Eskil. On one hand his words seemed funny as if they were a joke; on the other Arn seemed so boldly convincing that it made his head spin. Imagine that such simple measures, which even the thralls themselves could maintain, might really result in great improvements. Much would be gained with little work, and without the expenditure of a single silver mark.

   By the time Arn had finished leading him through the cookhouses and the new smokehouse, and explained the concept of the icehouse, Eskil was so taken by these inventions that he had tears in his eyes. For he no longer had any doubt. He was absolutely convinced that his brother, although not a man that dull retainers might respect, had brought a great and blessed knowledge with him from the cloister. And this knowledge would truly allow Arnäs to take great new steps forward. For it was indisputable that everything had actually stood still for many years. Things at Arnäs were better than at other farms, yet there had still been little progress.

   Eskil threw his arms around Arn, asking at once for forgiveness for failing to understand that his own brother really was his brother and his equal. Arn then had to console both Eskil and himself, because they showed great emotion. The house thralls who stood nearby stared at them in astonishment.