"This one will be a trouble maker, that's for sure!" the midwife said, wiping her brow. " I haven't seen a labor this long in sixteen years."
The mother-to-be groaned, writhing in the sweat-soaked sheets.
"Oh, kill me now," she moaned, "Just kill me. I hate men." Tears streamed down her face, "I hate them and I hate Cerdic most of all!"
The midwife patted the woman on the head, "Now you hush-up love, you love your husband very much. He's the greatest Saxon I know."
The woman sighed, wiping her damp blonde hair out of her face. "Oh, can I see him? Oh can't Cerdic come in here?"
"No," the midwife said, "No, he can't."
"Oh," the woman clutched again at the blankets, "I think it's coming!"
"Okay, now push love!" The midwife instructed, skillfully guiding the new life into the world.
"Oh, it's a beautiful boy!" She called.
The woman relaxed, grateful her pain was over, grateful she had a boy. Cerdic would be so pleased.
"Give me my son!" Cerdic yelled, pushing his way into the tent. "Oh, look at my boy!" The huge Saxon smiled, staring at his beautiful boy. His long blonde hair swung behind his back and his long fur robes bushed the floor.
"Oh, it still hurts!" His wife moaned, "Oh it feels like there's another."
"Now that will just be the afterbirth," the midwife coached, "Push it out, one more big push."
But one push didn't do it, for with that push, the midwife saw a tiny head.
"Gods almighty" she whispered, "You're having twins!" The midwife's mind reeled. The mother was not going to make it. She could barely push out that boy, another one would surely kill her. But not giving birth would surely kill them both. With a sigh, the midwife ordered, "Push it out honey."
The wife pushed with all her strength, and that was it. She fell back into the pillows, exhausted and closed her eyes.
The midwife took the new baby in her arms. It was a girl, and she was tiny. She wrapped the little girl up and placed her next to the boy.
Cerdic shook his wife gently, but she did not respond.
"Help her!" He yelled to the midwife, "Help her!"
The midwife took her pulse, but knew she was dead. The second baby had killed her. She lifted her eyes to tell this man, but when she met his, she knew she did not have to. She saw the rage, the anger.
"Get that second one away from me," He ordered. "I will kill him! I will kill that baby with my own hands! I don't care that he is my own son!"
"It's a she! She is your daughter!" The midwife screamed, holding the baby close to her chest. "I won't let you touch her!"
Cerdic raised his sword, his eyes menacing.
Where had the adoring husband gone? The loveable town favorite? This man was a monster. The midwife prayed silently for help to come.
"Cerdic!" a voice roared, bursting into the tent flap. "Do not touch that child."
"Who are you?" Cerdic roared, "Who are you who tells me what to do with my own child?"
"This girl is sacred. She is touched by the gods. You cannot kill her. It would bring ruin to your people." The man said. He wore a loincloth. His face was blue, and his hair was graying and wild about his face.
"You are a Woad!" Cerdic cried. "Get away from here! Go back to Briton before I kill you! Your witchcraft…"
"I am Merlin." He answered, "And there is a prophecy about your child." He paused before he continued:
"When the blood of the enemy mixes with the blood of the fallen, a covenant will be made. When the flames seal the pure to the corrupted, they will both rise. And the face of the world will be altered. Love will be found again in our hearts."
"Don't you speak to me about love, I have just lost my wife!" Cerdic cried, lunging at the baby. He stopped short when Merlin's dagger landed in his shoulder.
"This shoulder will always droop, to remind you of your heartlessness," Merlin said.
"Fine, I won't kill the baby," Cerdic muttered, "But I won't look at it. Take it away from my land. Take it with you."
Merlin nodded, "I will find her a home." He reached down and took the little girl in his arms. "And a name," he murmured.