Mamag yells out their names like numbers, lining them up from oldest to youngest; Rylen brings up the rear. Mamag scrubs dirt off his cheek by licking her finger. Tugging down his shirt-sleeves, he hides the bruises from the games he and his brothers play. Stronger, he wants to be stronger to fight them off and hold them back. When he takes lunch to Boban, he practices his swings behind the masonry, training himself for the day his brothers end up on the other side of his wooden sword. Then they’ll stop calling him weak, when he shows them all.