He felt so useless, tossing another log on the fire and ignoring the sparks it sent shooting to the sky.  The bed where his wife lay was lined with the furs of animals he had killed.  The hut had been built by his own hands before they were joined by the shaman’s words.  How dare they keep him from it.  It was his work, his doing that brought this all to be, why must he now stay away?

“Women’s business.”  His father said.  “I see your feelings in your eyes, but you are not needed there, now. This one day is for the women.  If you went there, she would only curse you for causing her pain.”

“But Father, surely she needs me.  I could help her bear the pain.”  He crouched on the ground, still staring at the hut.

“This pain is hers to bear and can only be lessened by those who know it.  The women will help her, they know what she feels.  You would only be in the way.”  He stirred the fire, causing more sparks to fly skyward.  “It’s a good night for a birth.  The sky is clear, the air is crisp.  It will be a strong child.”

“She thinks it is a girl.  She says it is not heavy enough to be a boy.  She wants to name her after her sister.”  The young man leaned back and looked up at the stars.

“Her sister was a good, strong child.  She would have grown into a fine young woman.  It would honor her spirit to name your child so.”

The screams were coming closer together, now.  The men sat up, anxious again.  The women at the door stood their ground, but clearly they wanted to rush inside, too.  It seemed like time stood still, even the fire grew quiet.   Then the world rushed back in as a new cry broke from the hut, softer and more pure.

The cry of a new voice, just come into the world. The wise women came out of the hut with a small, squalling bundle in her arms. They handed the new baby girl to her father, and she quieted.

“Look Father, my daughter is finally here.”  He held the baby aloft for all to see.  “Samantha, this is your home, your family, your village.”  And then he took her back into the hut. “And this is your mother, the most beautiful woman in the world.”  He sat down beside her on the bed. “Thank you, for giving me such a beautiful family.” He held both his wife and his child until they were all sound asleep.

The baby was born amidst screaming and blood. A battle raged in the camp, a night attack from the hills. Men and women screamed, fought and died. Merina, hair a tangled mess, lay with the newborn Karena on her chest. Tired after their own ordeal, they both slept.

The tent flap was thrown back and two men stopped short. They stared at the peaceful woman and child. Creeping to the bed, the taller, Garedal, lifted the child, who opened her eyes, but did not fuss. They gazed at each other, measuring, judging. Terian, on the other side of the bed, slit the woman’s throat. Garedal looked down, her eyes were open, staring at him in death.

“No survivors, no mercy.” Terian quoted their orders.

“I know.”

“Kill it, it’s just a girl.”

“No.”

Terian lunged for Karena, but Garedal held her high and backed away. The warriors glared at each other, the sounds of battle dying away in their ears. They circled the tent, stalking each other. One with murder boiling his blood, the other had a mother’s dying eyes haunting his soul. A sudden silence followed by a raucous cheer distracted them from their quarrel.

“It’s over, let it be.” Garedal sheathed his sword.

“You are weak.” Terian ripped the tent flap open and stormed away.

“But not heartless, brother.” He followed, catching up a blanket to wrap the babe in and secure it to his back.

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