In a sort of alternate-universe medieval Scandinavia, Halli Sveinsson grows up hearing the tales of the heroes, just like everyone else in the valley has for generations. The time of swords and bravado-filled quests is over, and this now-peaceful land has no need for great men, their feuds, or their weapons. But Halli loves the stories more than most children, which is not advantageous for the House leaders' second son. He spends his days concocting and carrying out tricks and practical jokes on his fellow descendants of Svein. His jokes get more and more outrageous and daring. One cup of bad ale served to the snide, swaggering Ragnar Hakonsson leads to disaster and a quest of revenge. With (the extremely fabulous) Aud of the House of Arne by his side (or sometimes far ahead of him--he's got rather short legs), Halli faces monsters, robbers, and angry villagers, and discovers the valley's ancient secrets.
So, yes, the character development is lovely as well (a good transition point). Halli's not a great person, really--the ultimate flawed child. In fact he can be repulsive. He takes a while to learn from mistakes and too often lets the glory of his own imagined heroism carry him into dangerous, disastrous situations. But, after making things as bad as they possibly could be and having to face unknown horrors, Halli learns and grows up some.
Each chapter begins with an excerpt from the story cycle of the ancient heroes, which is lovely and of course parallels the events of the coming chapter as good epigraphs do. Each Part (you know, Part I, Part II, etc.) ends with the story of each of Svein's visits to the Trow-king's hall. My favorite one is the end to Part II--Svein visits the three daughters of a farmer to see which one he might like to marry. He announces that he plans to go to the Trow-king's hall and asks what each daughter would like from the hall. The first asks for gold and silver to wear, the second for a new ladle and cooking pot to replace her broken ones, and the third for a moor flower to gaze at. Svein heads to the Trow-king's hall and returns with the gifts. He then says, "'You, the eldest, are clearly a vain sort of trollop, while you, the youngest, are appallingly fey. I'll pick you, the middle one, for your commonsense request'" (219-220). I was hoping and pretty sure that Stroud would go with that, but I was still pleasantly surprised when it happened. A nice little evil grin at traditional fairy tales there.
Heroes of the Valley has minimal world-building, but that's not an issue because its very scantiness adds to the valley-dwellers' ignorance of the world beyond the mountains. Besides, Stroud's genius and appeal lies in his additions to exisiting worlds, and, no matter the setting, in his characters' journey and his clever words.
Only thing that really bothered me--so the legendary monsters of this world are called Trows. But how on earth am I supposed to say that, Stroud?? Does it rhyme with "low" or with "cow"? My computer thinks it's a word.
Google search turns up T. Rowe Price, the definition of an archaic word, and... A mischievous spirit in Orkey and Shetland legend, similar to the trolls of Scandinavian legend. Is this the inspiration, Stroud? Can you tell us how to say it? (Okay, it doesn't bother me that much. It's fine.)
In short, Heroes of the Valley is another fabulous work by Jonathan Stroud. It's not as good as Bart or Lockwood, but better than Buried Fire. I would recommend it to anyone in middle school or older who likes fantasy and loves to laugh.